Staking His Claim

by Tessa Radley

  Ella closed her eyes. “Things changed.”

  She’d changed.

  And Yevgeny had noticed the change even as she’d started becoming aware of it herself. She thought back to their visit to that magical house...the day he’d kissed her for the first time.

  Ella placed her hands on his forearms, emphasizing their unity in the face of her sister and his brother. What they were doing was right. They both loved Holly.

  They would make this work.

  It had to.

  Her resolve hardened. “I’m sorry, Keira. I got pregnant for you originally. Then you and Dmitri decided you both needed time and space for yourselves. But now I can’t give her up. I’m her mother.”

  Saying those words freed something deep inside her. All the hurt of the past softened, eased and floated gently away.

  For the first time in many years, Ella felt...whole. At peace.

  “After my first baby died, I thought I’d never smile again...” Her voice trailed away.

  Behind her the rise and fall of Yevgeny’s chest slowed. His arms tensed into bands of steel around her.

  Keira’s face crumpled. “None of us could reach you.”

  “I’m happy now. Holly has brought me happiness. Please be happy for me— I don’t want to fight you on this,” she said to her sister.

  There’d been enough fighting. Against Yevgeny. Against herself. But she would fight no longer.

  “Keira, I haven’t discussed this with Yevgeny, but why don’t we talk about you and Dmitri becoming Holly’s godparents? That way, you can both have a significant part in her life.” When Keira’s eyes brightened, Ella started to think about the old saying that it took a village to raise a child. Holly would never be short of family. She glanced from Keira to Dmitri and finally to Yevgeny. “What do you all think?”

  Yevgeny nodded, his expression unfathomable.

  “We’ll discuss it,” said Keira. “But first I want to be matron of honor at your wedding.”

  Ella knew she should come clean and reveal there might be no wedding—she hadn’t yet given Yevgeny his answer, even though she’d told Keira and Dmitri they were getting married.

  Ironically, she now desperately wanted to marry Yevgeny—but there was still a stumbling block.

  He didn’t love her.

  Thirteen

  Red. Yellow. Green.

  The Christmas tree lights lit up Ella’s pale face.

  Holly was having her afternoon nap, and they’d finally seen Keira and Dmitri off after they’d stayed for Christmas lunch. Yevgeny had given the pair the keys to the Porsche and the freedom to stay in his penthouse. He would’ve done anything to get rid of them.

  Because he needed to talk to Ella.

  She’d announced to his brother and her sister that they were getting married—that she was keeping Holly. He should be pumped...everything he wanted was falling into place. But he didn’t like the quiet air that had settled around her like a shroud. It was a far cry from the happiness expected of a bride-to-be.

  “Ella, are you okay?”

  Her hands paused in the act of picking up the shredded wrapping paper that lay on the carpet, left over from the orgy of unwrapping that had taken place earlier. Holly had gotten a treasure trove of gifts. The eyes that looked up at him held confusion—with none of the honey-gold tones that indicated happiness. She pushed her glasses up her nose in the way she had when she was uncertain.

  “Do you think I’ve been too hasty?” she asked. “Holly was born for Keira and Dmitri—should I give her back to them?” The pain in her eyes was blinding. “It would give Keira the gift of happiness I intended all along.”

  “But what about you?”

  She stared at him. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” This lay at the heart of the matter, he realized. He came to stand in front of her. “What do you want?” Ella blinked up at him. “I think, for once in your life, you need to think about what you want. And go after it.”

  The bewilderment faded, and a strange expression came over her face. Her eyes flicked to him, then shot away. “That would be selfish.”

  “You deserve to be happy, too.”

  “It’s not just about me. There are other issues at stake here, too.”

  He placed his finger under her chin and tilted it so that he could see her eyes. They were guarded. “Like what?”

  “Like you.”

  He tried to read her, started to hope. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want you to feel obliged to marry me because of what my stupid pride caused me to say to Keira.”

  Had it been pride that had caused her declaration? He’d thought there’d been a lot of honesty—her love for Holly had shone from her.

  Yet now doubt shadowed her face.

  “You’re having second thoughts about giving Holly up?”

  She shook her head. “No, she belongs with you.”

  “You could belong with us, too. If you choose.” His finger trailed along her jawline and stroked her hair off her face as he’d seen her do so often in the past. He was no longer sure whether marriage for Holly’s sake alone would be enough for him.

  In the past few weeks his fears had changed. He no longer dreaded that Ella would abandon Holly someday, as his mother had abandoned his father, himself and his brother. He now feared that she would never be able to love him. Hell, she hadn’t liked him that long ago. His own arrogance had cemented that. At least the raw antagonism had diminished. He could make her laugh. He was certain she at least liked him now.

  But love?

  Not yet.

  He didn’t want to wait for her to fall in love with him—to live in uncertainty about whether it would come to pass even as he took her to his bed each night.

  He wanted her love. Now.

  But he didn’t want to put more pressure on her, either. This time he had to be selfless, this time he was putting Ella first.

  This was about Ella. It was her choice.

  “What do you want, Ella? What is your dream?”

  * * *

  Ella bit her lip.

  How to tell Yevgeny that her dream lay at the magical home he’d bought for him and Holly. She wanted to share that home with him and Holly—she wanted to share their future.

  Because she loved them both...more than anything in the world. Between the two of them, they’d taught her to love again. They’d brought her back to life.

  Yevgeny’s hands cupped her face.

  She met his gaze...and trembled inside.

  Could she risk revealing her dream to him? What if he ridiculed it? Or dismissed it? As quickly as they came the thoughts vanished. Once they’d come to an understanding about Holly, Yevgeny had shown her nothing but kindness. And passion. That thought swept in from nowhere and caused her cheeks to heat.

  “Let me tell you what I never dared dream of.” His voice broke into her thoughts. “I never dared dream that I’d one day have a family. You see, my family was a train wreck. My mother and father had a dysfunctional relationship and when my mother left, she used me and Dmitri to get what she wanted—financial support while she swanned around with her new lover.”

  Ella knew she should have suspected something like this; all the clues had been there. She should have worked out that he was the childhood victim of a bitter divorce.

  “Your mother got custody of you both?” she asked slowly.

  He nodded, his eyes vulnerable. “She took us away from Russia—to London. Until she decided she wanted to be young and unfettered again and ran off with her toyboy. My father came to fetch us—it was the first time we’d seen him in three years. She’d fed the court a bunch of lies, and he’d been barred from seeing us.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and took a
step forward. She wrapped her arms around this strong man, and leaned into him. She kissed his cheek.

  He dropped his face into the cleft formed by her neck and shoulder, and said so softly that she had to strain her ears to hear, “I never wanted to marry—to risk that happening to my child. I was not ever going to give any woman that kind of power over me.”

  Ella struggled to absorb what he was telling her. But he’d asked her to marry him. What did that mean? Was this regret for flouting his vow to himself?

  Probably.

  Ella knew exactly what to do. She had to set him free. Dropping her arms, she said, “And now I’ve gone and told both our families that we’re getting married. I’ll tell Keira it was a mistake.”

  “No!” He raised his head. The expression in his eyes caused her breath to catch in disbelief. “Ella, you don’t understand—I want to marry you. That’s the dream I never dared to dream. I love you.”

  To Ella’s horror, she felt tears prick.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  That caused her to smile through the tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally cry this much. But these are tears of relief—and joy. You see, I love you, too.”

  At that, Yevgeny’s arms encircled her and crushed her to his heart.

  * * *

  “Are you happy?”

  “Me?” Ella turned her head to smile at her fiancé. Yevgeny’s arm rested around her waist as they stood on the wide veranda of their dream home taking in the view they’d be seeing every day in the new year. “I’m walking on clouds—life couldn’t be better.”

  The sale of the house had gone through. In a few days they would be moving in.

  Everything in her world was going right.

  Ella glanced down at the stroller beside them, where Holly was quite comfortably ensconced. For now. In years to come Ella knew Holly would tear around the gardens, explore the trees...and play on the swing Yevgeny intended to build. Perhaps there would be a younger sister. Maybe a brother, too.

  A hand cupped her chin. Instantly her pulse quickened. Yevgeny bent his head and sealed her smiling lips with a kiss.

  When he raised his head, she said, “Did you ever imagine this could happen between us?”

  “I’ll tell you a secret.”

  She tipped her head back, waiting for him to continue. “Yes?”

  “I used to think you were an icicle. I didn’t think the man had been born who could melt you.”

  “No secret.” She laughed. “I knew what you thought of me. But you once told me you never could resist a dare. Was that how you viewed me? A challenge to defrost?”

  “It never crossed my mind. I have to say that I must be incredibly blind because you’re the warmest, most passionate woman I’ve ever known.” He ran a finger over her bottom lip. “You’re not angry?”

  “I’d be hypocritical if I was.” Ella paused, then grinned. “You see, I thought you were a bully—I called you Bossy Big Brother.”

  “I’m not a bully!”

  “Ah, but I thought you were. I thought you controlled every aspect of your brother’s life, and that was why the poor thing was so irresponsible.”

  Yevgeny swung round and leaned against the balustrade. Placing his hands on her hips, he drew her closer. “What can I say? I admit it. I did pull him out of too many scrapes.”

  “I did the same with Keira. It was easier to sort her mistakes out for her than let her learn to do it herself.” She grinned at him as she allowed her body to rest against his. “At least we won’t make those mistakes with Holly.”

  “I have no doubt there will be others to make.”

  Ella looked up at him, aghast. “Good grief. I hope not.”

  “But don’t worry. Like her mother, I know she’s ticklish—under her feet.”

  “How long have you known that?”

  He paused. “I’ll tell you something else I know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The night I discovered Holly was ticklish, I overheard your promise to our daughter that you’d find her the best mother in the world. If you ask me, I think you’ve done that.”

  Her heart stopped. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “And it’s perfectly true. Come here my wife-to-be. Let me show you again how much I love you.”

  This time when his mouth closed over hers, he was in no hurry to end the kiss.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Up Close and Personal by Maureen Child

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  One

  “Laura, I know you’re in there!”

  Ronan Connolly pounded on the brightly painted blue front door a few more times, then paused to listen. Not a sound from inside the house, though he knew too well that Laura was in there. Hell, he could practically feel her, standing just on the other side of the damned door.

  Bloody hardheaded woman. How had he ever thought that quality attractive? Now that attractive hardheadedness had come back to bite him in the ass.

  Seconds ticked past and there was no sound from within, which only irritated him further. He glanced at the sunshine-yellow Volkswagen parked alongside the house—her car—then glared again at the still-closed front door.

  “You won’t convince me you’re not at home. Your bloody car is parked in the street, Laura.”

  Her voice came then, muffled but clear. “It’s a driveway in America, Ronan. You’re not in Ireland, remember?”

  “More’s the pity.” He scrubbed one hand across his face and rolled his eyes in frustration. If they were in Ireland right now, he’d have half the village of Dunley on his side and he’d bloody well get her to open the damned door.

  “I heard that,” she said. “And feel free to hop onto one of your private planes and go back to Connolly-land anytime you feel like it!”

  If only he could, Ronan thought. But he’d come to California to open an American branch of his business and until Cosain was running as it should, he was going nowhere at all.

  At the moment though, he was tired, on edge and in no mood to be dealing with more females. Especially one with a head as hard as Laura’s.

  He had spent the past six weeks traveling across Europe acting as bodyguard to a sixteen-year-old pop star whose singing was only slightly less annoying than her attitude. Between the girl and her grasping mother, Ronan had been more than ready for the job to end so he could get back to his life. Now that he was back, he’d expected peace. Orderliness. Instead…

  Grinding his teeth together, he took a long moment or two and counted to ten. Then did it a second time. “Whatever the hell you want to call it, Laura, your car is here and so’re you.”

  “I might have been out,” she shouted. “Did you ever think of that? I do have friends, you know.”

  The Connolly temper lifted a couple notches inside him and Ronan was forced to fight it back down.

  “But you’re not out, are you?” he asked, entirely reasonably, and he gave himself points for it. “You’re here, driving me to distraction and making me shout at a bloody closed
door like I’m the village idiot turned loose on his own for the first time.”

  “You don’t have to shout, I can hear you,” she said, her voice carrying nicely through the door.

  Laura Page lived on a tidy street in Huntington Beach, California, in one of a dozen town houses built to look like a Cape Cod village. When he’d first seen her place, he’d thought it charming. Now he glared at the building as if it were to blame for his current situation.

  A cool ocean breeze shot down the narrow street and rattled the limbs of the nearly naked elm tree in Laura’s front yard. Roiling gray clouds overhead promised a storm soon, and he hoped to hell he wasn’t still standing on this bleeding porch when it hit.

  “Your neighbors can hear me, too,” he pointed out with a brief nod at the man clipping his hedge with enough vigor to whittle it into a toothpick. “Why not open the door and we can talk this out. Together. In private.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  He laughed shortly. That would be a first indeed, he told himself. A more opinionated woman he had never met. In the beginning, he’d liked that about her. Too often, he was surrounded by smiling, vacuous women who agreed with everything he said and laughed at the lamest of jokes just to ingratiate themselves with him.

  But not Laura.

  No, from the first, she had been stubborn and argumentative and unimpressed with his wealth or celebrity. He had to admit, he had enjoyed verbally sparring with her. He admired a quick mind and a sharp tongue. He’d admired her even more once he’d gotten her into his bed.

  He glanced down at the dozen red roses he held clutched in his right hand and called himself a damned fool for thinking this woman would be swayed by pretty flowers and a smooth speech. Hell, she hadn’t even seen the flowers yet. And at this rate, she never would.

  Huffing out an impatient breath, he lowered his voice a bit. “You know why I’m here. Let’s get it done and have it over then.”

  There was a moment’s pause, as if she were thinking about what he’d said. Then she spoke up again. “You can’t have him.”