by Tessa Radley
Yet instead of challenging her claim, he countered, “And you think you’re any less selfish?”
“What do you mean?”
“Christmas is coming.” He gestured to the small tree standing in the corner of the waiting room. “And you’re going to send the baby you gave birth to away to a foster home? Her first Christmas will be spent as an orphan. Alone. I will not allow it. I am calling Jo Wells now—I don’t care how she arranges it, but that baby in your arms is going home with me. No baby should be alone at Christmas.”
Five
Bringing the baby home was the most ill-considered thing she’d ever done, Ella decided ruefully the following morning.
She’d given up trying to get the baby to sleep an hour ago—after a night spent mixing formula and warming bottles and not a wink of sleep. A glance at the large white clock on the ivory-patterned wallpaper revealed it was already seven-thirty Monday morning. Normally she’d be in the office already, her emails read and answered. She’d be about to fetch the single cup of coffee she’d allowed herself each day during her pregnancy. Made from a fragrant, specially ground blend she favored, it was a must to kick-start her day.
This morning she hadn’t even fired up her laptop...much less thought about coffee.
Ella was exhausted.
But it was worth it....
She’d refused to allow Yevgeny to all but kidnap the baby and take it away with him. Once that happened he would never let the baby go. She knew that. The only way to stop that from happening had been to take the baby home herself...and the sacrifice was probably going to kill her.
At the very least, it was going to break what was left of her heart.
She gazed wearily at the tiny girl-monster lying on the plump couch beside her.
“Don’t you think it’s time for a nap?”
The baby stared back at her with round, wide-awake eyes.
Ella sighed.
She had no idea what she was doing but the few tips from a willing nurse that she’d scribbled down on the legal pad before leaving the maternity unit had been a godsend. At least the baby wouldn’t starve—she’d just finished a bottle. Yet it had only reinforced how much Ella didn’t know. After all, she hadn’t attended parenting classes or read any books on child rearing during the pregnancy because that had been Keira’s department. She’d only read the manuals about the dos and don’ts for the period the baby was growing in her stomach, none of which were of any help now.
Thank heavens she’d called an agency to engage a nanny before leaving the hospital yesterday. The agency hadn’t been able to send someone at once, and Ella had wished she hadn’t been so hasty in telling Yevgeny that she was taking the baby home, but pride hadn’t let her back down.
How much trouble could a baby be?
She closed her eyes, thinking about the night past...trouble didn’t even begin to describe the experience!
And after today there were still eight days to go before she could sign the adoption consent.
Ella didn’t even want to contemplate it.
Opening her eyes, she gazed down at the baby, who was now wiggling her legs. Ella knew her biggest challenge was going to be maintaining a healthy distance from this child. What she didn’t need was to form an attachment to a baby she had no intention of keeping. She’d hoped that the baby would spend most of the time asleep—after all, that was what had happened at the maternity unit.
But it certainly hadn’t played out like that last night....
Since they’d gotten home to Ella’s cozy town house, most of the baby’s waking time had been spent in her arms. It seemed to have forgotten what sleep was. Ella had walked her up and down for what seemed like the whole night...to no avail.
Her cell phone beeped.
Ella reached for it and squinted at the hi-tech screen.
The messages had started early this morning—from colleagues and clients who had no idea of the baby’s arrival on Friday evening, and thought this would be a normal work Monday. Ella knew she faced a flood of calls and emails...and that she ought to divert them to Peggy, her assistant...but right now she was too tired to move—or to think of anything.
Except sleep...
The baby chose that moment to burp.
As tired as she was, it was impossible not to smile. Ella forced her face straight. This was not the way to maintain a healthy distance. She shifted her attention back to the cell phone. Another message beeped through.
Then it rang.
It was the childcare agency she’d contacted yesterday to let her know the nanny had been dispatched.
Ella sighed with relief as she killed the call. Wrinkling her nose at the child, she said, “Sleep is on its way.”
She’d have to summon the energy to call the office, check that Peggy had canceled all her meetings for the day, and then she could crawl into bed. It was the stuff fantasies were made of....
The nanny turned out to be a short, energetic woman named Deb Benson. Within half an hour she’d restored order, unexpectedly leaving Ella feeling inadequate. She was used to making decisions, doing deals, dispensing advice, but as far as babies were concerned, she was a rookie. It was hard to accept how inept she was. Explaining the situation to Deb had also proved to be difficult—so, too, the fact that the baby didn’t yet have a name. Yet Deb hadn’t even blinked.
It made Ella wonder what it would take to faze her.
A lot more than a baby created for a couple who’d decided to give her up...and a surrogate mother who avoided cuddling her.
But it was for her own protection, Ella reminded herself as she made her way to the sleek white-and-silver home office where she spent much of her out-of-office time. Yet once barricaded in the familiar space, Ella struggled to concentrate. It wasn’t the fact that she felt different—heck, it would’ve been impossible not to! Her stomach felt soft—no more gym-hard abs. Her breasts were swollen, tight and aching.
Having the baby had changed her body—and now, little as Ella wanted to admit it, the infant was changing her life.
Her silver laptop sat on the smooth, white desk. Ella flipped it open. She forced herself to call Peggy.
When she put the phone down she found that her ears were straining to hear what Deb was doing. She stared blindly at the screen in front of her. Against her will she found herself using Google to search “baby names” and faced with pages of websites. Most popular girls’ names of the seventies...eighties...nineties...noughties...and beyond.
There were websites for flower names, for foreign names. Her mind boggled.
Lily. Rose. Petunia.
With a click of the mouse the next webpage opened.
Manon. Jeanne.
Another click.
Eleni. Roshni.
Ella clicked back to the first website with the botanical girls’ names.
Or Holly.
The sound of the doorbell was an unwelcome interruption. Scant seconds later the door to her office burst open, and an even more unwelcome male presence filled the doorway.
“You’ve hired a nanny!”
Determined not to give Yevgeny more advantage than surprise had already afforded him, Ella shut the computer lid and rose to her feet. He dwarfed her. She swore silently. Next time she would wear heels.
“Of course I have.” She met his outraged gaze as calmly as she was able. “I have a job to get back to.”
“You’re due maternity leave.”
Ella shook her head. “I work for myself, so any leave I take is scheduled long in advance. This time I only allowed myself a few days off.” And that had been next week. When the baby was supposed to arrive—not long before Christmas. “Anyway, I wasn’t keeping the baby, remember? So I certainly didn’t need maternity leave.” And now, since Keira’s bombshell,
Ella knew she definitely didn’t want to be sitting around with time to think.
His eyes glittered with disbelief. “And none of that has changed since bringing the baby home?”
She struggled with another wave of weariness and searched for words to explain her feelings to the man watching her as though she were some two-headed alien.
“How can it? I have to work.” She stared back at him. Attack was the best form of defense. “You employ women—some of them might even be executives.” Although she doubted it. Men like Yevgeny Volkovoy didn’t take women seriously enough to give them significant responsibility. One only had to look at the women he dated—models, socialites—to see that. Although she had to admit that Nadiya had shown more spunk than Ella would’ve expected from one of his conquests—certainly more than Yevgeny wanted. “I can only imagine what you’d say about a woman who planned to be back at work, then decided to take several months off instead.”
He blinked, and Ella saw the truth of her argument register.
He shrugged.
“Maybe.” Then he added, “But I would’ve understood. Eventually.” Putting his hands on his hips, he tilted his head to one side. “And that argument doesn’t apply here—you are your own boss.”
“Which means I can’t just disappear from the office—I need to carefully plan the times away and arrange for someone to cover for me.” And most important, she wanted to avoid becoming too attached to the child. “I want to go back to work.”
“So when do you plan to do that?”
“As soon as I can.” Ella didn’t say “tomorrow,” which was what she fully intended—so long as her body obliged and the fatigue that was starting to make her feel dizzy wasn’t too much of a factor.
“And dump the child you haven’t even given a name on the nanny?”
Ella stifled a yawn. “Holly will be perfectly happy.”
“Holly? Holly?” He reared back. “You’ve named the baby?”
“Obviously.”
He looked surprised. “Just now? To prove me wrong?”
“Not to prove you wrong! I picked her name earlier.” She wasn’t admitting to those minutes of scouring websites—after all, she couldn’t even fathom what had driven her to do a Google search for baby names. It was all too uncomfortable to absorb. And why did he think she’d done it merely to prove him wrong? Let him think it had been an arbitrary name plucked out of the air. “You shouldn’t assume an importance you don’t have in my life.”
But instead of causing Yevgeny to puff up with annoyance as she’d intended, her comment made him laugh.
“Bravo,” he said.
Ella stared. Tiredness must be befuddling her. Because with his white teeth flashing and laugh lines—which she’d never noticed before—crinkling around his eyes, he caused her breath to hook in her throat. In the wickedly sparkling eyes, Ella got a glimpse of his appeal. This must be the reason women hung around him like bees around a honeypot.
The man looked devastating.
And all because she’d tried to put him in his place!
She couldn’t help smiling back.
But his next words wiped the smile off her face.
“I came expecting to find you ready to beg me to take her away.” His light eyes grew cloudy. “I should’ve known you’d hire a nanny.”
He’d expected her to fail at the first hurdle.
That stung!
Because even though she’d hired a nanny to keep the baby at a distance, deep in her heart she knew he was right. She had failed. She was dangerously ignorant about babies, and it didn’t help that her ignorance came because she’d never intended to have children of her own. It only served to underscore her secret, deeply held conviction that she would make a terrible parent.
Mostly his criticism stung because the truth of it was Ella wasn’t accustomed to failure. Whatever task she undertook she saw through to the bitter end.
And arranging for the baby’s adoption would be no different—once she’d had a good-night’s sleep and gotten herself back to normal.
But Yevgeny only saw a woman he didn’t particularly like, so he wrote her off as useless—like he’d written most of her sex off. He was definitely archaic... She’d dearly love to see him taught a lesson. Tempting as it was to daydream that she might be the woman to do that, Ella knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be her. Some other woman would have to have the pleasure of taking him down a peg or two...one day. How she’d love to see the arrogant Yevgeny grovel.
“Didn’t you come to see Holly?” she asked, too exhausted to get drawn into another of their fiery exchanges.
“Thanks to the nanny, she’s probably been fed at least.”
Annoyance surfaced, exacerbated by the mind-numbing weariness. Did he believe she would neglect the baby? Just because she didn’t want a child didn’t mean that she’d ever see it harmed. No, not it...her. Holly was a little girl. Ella sighed inwardly. It was hard enough to keep her distance to stop an attachment forming; she didn’t need his cruel barbs. “I looked after her all night. The nanny only just arrived.”
“Then I’d better go check on her.”
Ella ground her teeth, and turned her head to stare blindly at her computer screen. Unable to help herself she blurted out, “None of the intending parents’ profiles Jo Wells left at the hospital fit what I’m looking for.”
It got so quiet, she thought Yevgeny must’ve already gone, that he hadn’t heard her.
That might be for the best.
She turned her head, glanced over her shoulder.
Yevgeny stood as unmoving as a marble statue on the office’s threshold, his pale eyes hungry and intent.
Waiting.
This was what he’d wanted to know, wasn’t it? But Ella refused to hold out false hope. “Jo has already brought another batch of portfolios for me to look at. There should be at least one set of suitable parents there.”
“You’re choosing them tonight?”
She shook her head, flinching inwardly at the thought of what lay ahead. Glimpses into the lives of strangers desperate for a baby. And not just any baby—the baby she had helped create.
More hopeful faces would smile out of the pages at her—with carefully picked words detailing their dreams. Each set of parents hoping they would be the chosen ones. And if she liked more than one set, it would only get harder. After meeting the couples, she’d have to choose one couple over the other. Right now she couldn’t face the mountain that lay ahead.
“I’ll do it tomorrow.” She turned away from the intensity that radiated from him, back to her laptop.
A moment later his footsteps receded. After the door closed softly behind him, Ella’s shoulders sagged. She could barely concentrate on the letters on the screen in front of her. Giving in, she rose and went to sit on the love seat beneath the window, her computer perched on her stomach. Much more comfortable.
For the next few minutes, she’d see what appointments she could reschedule...then...then, she’d go see what Yevgeny was doing. See if she could hurry him along. Once Yevgeny had departed, she’d be able to relax. She’d go lie down in her bedroom.
And welcome the sleep her body craved.
* * *
Yevgeny pushed the door to Ella’s office open with the flat palm of his hand and reentered the room. One glance caused him to pause.
The icicle had fallen asleep.
He crossed the room with silent steps, his footfalls muffled by the pile of the pale gray carpet until he stood beside the sofa.
Yet, instead of an icicle’s cold clinical perfection, Ella’s skin held a very feminine rosy flush. Her hair feathered across her forehead, the sharp-angled bob nowhere in evidence.
She looked younger. Prettier. Softer.
Yevgeny shrugged the illusion away.
Her laptop, angled across her midriff, was in danger of toppling off. She’d been working. Of course she had.
What had he expected?
That she’d been mothering? He suppressed a snort of disgust. The baby was where he’d just left her—in the arms of the nanny. His mouth compressing, he lifted the computer gently off Ella’s stomach and set it down on her desk. Turning back, he took in the uncomfortable way she was draped over the small couch. Her feet, one hooked over the other, dangled over the edge and her body was skewed so that her bottom cheek was pressed against the white leather cushions. It definitely didn’t look comfortable.
Bending over, he lifted her feet and laid them straight along the couch. Instantly they slid back over the edge. He stilled, fearing she might waken. But she didn’t stir.
The way her body was twisted suggested she was going to wake with a God-Almighty crick in her neck for sure. Yevgeny didn’t know why it was bothering him, but he couldn’t leave her like this. When he’d first arrived, she’d looked tired with gray shadows rimming her expressive eyes. Leaving aside her lack of motherly instincts, Ella had been through a lot in the past few days. She’d given birth to the baby that her sister had given up. She’d had to cope with deciding the baby’s future.
She must be worn out.
The first flicker of unwilling sympathy for her stirred within him.
He might not agree with the decisions she was planning, but he could appreciate how stressful it must be. He knelt and scooped her up against his chest. She made a tiny mewing sound, and her lashes fluttered. Then she burrowed in against his shoulder.
She smelt of a soft, old-fashioned scent.
Lilacs...
Yevgeny bit back a curse.
Straightening to his full six-foot, three-inch height, he strode out of the glossy white-and-gray office. At the end of the carpeted corridor a door stood ajar. With one foot, he knocked it wide to reveal what was clearly the main bedroom in the town house.
What a difference.
While white once again dominated, it wasn’t the glossy white of leather and lacquer that he’d seen in the rest of the house. No reflective glass and silver mirrors in here. This was...