by Paula Roe
“I’m your client.”
She shifted her weight, one long leg thrust forward aggressively, tilting those hips in one slow, suggestive motion. Alex’s breath caught in sharp appreciation.
“Tell me, if it weren’t for Pam and Chelsea, would you have hired me?” Yelena said.
If it weren’t for Carlos they both wouldn’t be here. “No,” he said curtly, arousal doused as resentment began to bubble up inside. He swiftly stood. “What have you two been talking about?”
“Well, naturally she asked what I did for a living so pretty soon she’ll put two and two together.” She paused, shaking her head. Alex watched a small strand of hair escape her ponytail and settle on her shoulder. With an impatient sweep, she shoved it back.
“I also get the feeling she thinks you and I are—” she paused, her hand fluttering up to her necklace “—conducting some kind of secret liaison.”
“I see.”
When he moved out from behind his desk, Alex noticed the way she put weight onto her back foot, unsure and unsteady. As if poised for a quick exit.
Yelena never backed down from an argument. Which meant something else had unnerved her, something that went beyond mere discomfort at his mother’s assumptions. Was he finally getting to her? Just as satisfaction curled his mouth into a grin, a dark alternate thought thinned it.
“Being romantically linked with a suspected murderer embarrasses you.”
Yelena eyes widened at the hint of disgust peppering his flat statement. “No! How could you possibly think that?”
“So what’s the problem?”
“You have to stop lying to her.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am not lying.”
She snorted, unperturbed by his mounting irritation. “Lying by omission is still lying. I get enough of that from my bro—”
Appalled, she snapped her mouth shut…not quick enough.
“What’s Carlos done?” He growled.
What on earth was she thinking? Their eyes deadlocked, both unwilling to back down until Yelena finally conceded.
“Nothing. He’s said absolutely nothing to me for months. This whole silent treatment you’re giving him isn’t going to solve the problem, you know.”
“What makes you think there’s a problem?”
“Do not treat me like an idiot, Alex. There’s a problem.”
Instantly, the temperature dropped. “That’s none of your business.”
“Rubbish. Not only will this impact on Sprint Travel and this campaign, but he’s my brother—your business partner.”
He shot her a look. “What happened to your ‘no personal questions’ rule?” He slowly crossed his arms. “Can’t have it both ways. Or—” he let the words trail off, one eyebrow raised “—are you deliberately trying to pick a fight?”
His voice dipped into a shockingly intimate timbre. Immediately her body started to tingle with anticipation, heart rate thumping.
His mouth tweaked. “You always loved a good, long—”
“Alex!”
“Argument.” Now he was grinning at her outright. They were having a serious discussion and he was amused?
Infuriated, she tried to pull herself together. “Maybe I’m getting sick and tired of all your weird looks.”
“What weird looks?”
“As if you can’t stand me one moment but the next, you want to…”
“Kiss you?”
He crossed the room too quickly for her to register his intent and when his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, surprise rendered her immobile.
She pointedly stared at his hand then coolly met his eyes. “Do not touch me.”
“Why not?”
Her heart accelerated as her cheeks became warm. “Because you’re being unprofessional.”
He gave a mocking snort. “So you can feel it.”
“Feel what?”
He slowly ran his palm up, curling long fingers around the soft part of her forearm to gently hold her prisoner. “How it is between us. How it’s always been—even when I was off-limits and dating your sister.”
She yanked away, severing the moment. “Don’t you dare bring that up!”
“It’s true.”
Yelena took a step back, then another. “But it didn’t make it right.” She stuck her hands on her hips, guilt and desire now burning her face. “Do you know how many times I wanted to tell Gabriela about us? And every time I psyched myself up to it, she’d bounce in with a stupid grin on her face, telling me how happy she was. I hated myself for lusting after my sister’s boyfriend. What we were doing was wrong.”
His eyes darkened. “All you and I did was share a few kisses—we did nothing immoral.”
“Maybe not in your mind. But every time I was with you—” I was so damn happy, yet so miserable because you made her happy. “Oh, forget it,” she bit off and whirled away, stalking to the door.
Yet just as her hand slapped on the cold wood, she paused. Her feet itched to storm out that door, her fingers falling to clench the polished handle as if it were a lifeline. But the damage was done. She’d not only flung open the gate to their past, she’d blithely charged on through.
With reluctance dogging every second, she turned back. “Alex…about Gabriela.”
“What?” He’d grabbed his mobile phone from the desk and was absently checking his messages. “Did she ever manage to sign Jennifer Hawkins to her agency? I knew she was angling for her.”
At Yelena’s silence he glanced up. “What? She’s returning to modeling? She’s back in town? She’s getting married?” At this last one he gave a snort, part amusement, part skepticism.
“No.”
That small word had a truckload of seriousness behind it. His smile faltered, then froze. “What?”
Yelena fingered her necklace and swallowed, the huge lump passing under her skin and down her throat. “Gabriela’s dead.”
Seconds passed like a yawning chasm, deathly silent yet loaded with meaning.
His entire face tightened into incredulity. “You’re kidding.”
“Would I lie about something like that? It was never officially announced so there’s no way you could’ve known.”
“When?”
“In March. She called me from Spain on Christmas Eve, right after we…you and I…” She trailed off guiltily. Parked in his father’s driveway, making out like two teenagers. Half-clothed, his hot mouth on her body, frantic kisses full of hope and promise for the future before she’d breathlessly begged him to stop. We have to tell Gabriela—she deserves to know.
“She called me on my way home, desperate for help,” Yelena continued. “I tried calling you at the airport but you’d switched your phone off. Then when I landed in Madrid, I kept calling—your mobile, your house. Finally I got some security guy but he wouldn’t let me speak to you.”
“So you stopped trying.”
It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact. The truth of it hacked off a little piece of her heart. She had just given up.
“I called for a week,” she admitted, “but you’d imposed a complete communication blackout. I even told them I was from Bennett & Harper PR, but nothing. I thought you’d…” To her embarrassment, her voice wavered.
Alex’s hands went to his hips. “You thought I was breaking up with you?”
“Wouldn’t you?” she countered. “I’d left without warning and ended up with Gabriela in a bunch of tiny, off-the-grid towns, some with barely enough sanitation, let alone phone towers. When we finally got to Germany in early March, I found out about your father—a few weeks after you’d been cleared. Then Gabriela’s issues, her death, overshadowed everything else.”
She held his gaze until he finally glanced away, dragging a hand over his eyes.
“I didn’t know. My life has been—” He stopped, dropped his gaze and exhaled forcefully. “I’m sorry about your sister. How did she…?”
“Car crash. She was…” Impulsive. Reckless. Selfish. �
��Gabriela,” Yelena finished lamely with a small smile and a shrug.
“And your parents haven’t issued a statement?”
“Not through my lack of trying.” At his look, her breath caught in her throat, the past and the present mingling to form a heavy mantle of resentment that threatened her composure.
“That’s not right, Yelena.”
“Yes, well. Gabriela’s always been the crazy one—she was the reason we immigrated in the first place. This is just another example of my parents trying to avoid scandalizing the sacred Valero name at any cost.”
Her phone went off, intruding on the moment. Quickly she glanced at it. “It’s late. I have to go.” Ignoring his frown, she pocketed the phone. “I have to feed Bella at six.”
She shoved the door open but paused with her hand on the knob. Slowly she turned, fixing him with a steady look. “I’d appreciate you keeping this news to yourself.”
At his silent nod she gave him a grateful, fleeting smile. “Thanks. And could you talk with your mother? Let her know why I’m here?”
Again, another nod.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
Then she turned and walked out the door.
Five
Yelena keyed open her suite door and shuffled inside. The cool air hit her face, a wonderful relief against her hot, burning cheeks.
“Jasmine?”
The nanny popped out from the kitchen with a smile, a clean baby bottle in one hand. “Bella’s been up for a few minutes. She’s a precious little thing, that one.”
“She is.” She smiled, and the cloying pressure slowly released like a steamer set from boil to off.
“She looks exactly like her mummy, too, all curly dark hair and beautiful skin. I’ll bet those gorgeous brown eyes will steal a few hearts.”
“I’m counting on it.” Yelena grinned as she laid her bag on the glass-topped table. “Before I forget, Jasmine—do you have an invoice for me?”
Jasmine looked confused. “Mr. Rush didn’t mention anything about billing you.”
Oh. Another revelation in this great, surprise-filled tsunami.
Telling Alex about Gabriela’s death had been the right thing to do. And now that guilt no longer weighed on her mind, she could focus more clearly on other things.
Like this campaign.
The pleasant yet confusing hour she’d spent with Pam had only exacerbated her curiosity. Oh, it wasn’t anything obvious: Pam was a passionate gardener, encouraging her to smell and touch at every opportunity. But every so often Yelena got that odd, uncomfortable feeling. It wasn’t anything Pam said, but rather what she didn’t say.
It happened every time William Rush’s name was mentioned.
For the second time today, a terrible thought surged up but she quickly squashed it down. From one who’d spent years keeping a lid on her emotions, she recognized the same in Pamela Rush. Yet, she acknowledged slowly, some secrets should be kept at all costs.
As the nanny tidied up the last of the dishes, Yelena checked her phone for messages. One from Melanie, wishing her good luck. One from Jonathon, reminding her to check in tomorrow morning. And curiously, one from Carlos—a curt directive to call him back.
He sounded angry.
Yelena placed her phone on the table. She wasn’t in the mood for angry, not after the day she’d had.
Pulling the tie from her hair, she ran her fingers through the heavy mass then vigorously rubbed her scalp. She not only had to deal with Alex and all the anxiety his presence entailed, but now there was this strange family tension, something obviously personal that floated below the surface.
Normally she’d question everyone involved, uncover the truth, work out their needs then provide the best possible spin. But something about this situation grated. She’d handled her share of contentious people and their issues but it had never felt quite so personal before.
That ruffled her normally cool composure. Could she be impartial when she still remembered how it felt to have Alex’s mouth on hers, his hot breath sending shivers of desire across her skin?
“I’m off.” The nanny was at the door, one hand on the knob. “I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”
Yelena managed a genuine thank-you but when the door clicked shut, the smile she’d been holding quickly slid away.
With a sigh she padded into the bedroom, her eyes fixed on the crib in the corner. She peered over the edge, holding her breath, but what she saw took the last of it away.
Her baby, her gorgeous girl, blinking sleepily. She’d made a fist and was gently sucking on it with tiny baby grunts, her other hand tightly grasping the rubber end of her brightly colored pacifier.
That’s right, bella. Whatever makes you comfortable in this strange sounding, strange smelling place. You hold on to it.
She sifted through her work priorities as she changed and fed Bella then settled her back down. As she backed from the room, leaving the door open a bare inch, she glanced back to the living area, to the pile of files on the table, to her iMac ready and waiting to boot up. In the bedroom, she could just hear Bella’s tiny settling sounds before she got herself off to sleep.
Her heart wrenched, no less painfully than it had a thousand other times before. Bella, the love of her life, in one room. In the other, her work, the tangible result of her achievements and symbol of her independence. Two opposites, yin and yang tied together to make a whole.
I need a hot shower. The desire was sudden and immediate and she stripped off, leaving the clothes where they fell, then stepped into the enormous bathroom.
She’d checked out the room before, but the opulence of this piece of interior design still took her breath away.
The bathroom dwarfed her bedroom at home, the large sink big enough to bath Bella in. Above, the last rays of the sun streamed in through the huge skylight. The shower on the left boasted plain glass doors, twin showerheads and a half wall of frosted glass bricks.
But it was the spa bath that held her attention. Fashioned like a miniature eternity pool, the blue marble spa ended at the amazing view of Ayers Rock and the red desert soil. One-way, tempered double-glazed glass, she recalled from the brochure in the sitting room.
On the bright-blue marble counter sat a dozen top-end beauty products—creams, lotions, cleansers. Next to it, a golden basket of bath items. With a grin, she selected a green bath bomb and sniffed.
The gorgeous smell of lemongrass and orange sent her toes curling in pleasure and she glanced up to catch her reflection in the large mirror. All these beautiful things, these amazing smells were a temporary distraction. She stared at herself, tilting her head left, then right.
You’re twenty-eight. You’re successful, you’re driven, you’re direct. Yet would she have the guts to approach Alex with her concerns about Pam?
It would take timing and subtlety. She’d have to be nonthreatening and put him at ease, something she guessed would be a monumental task.
A flash of apprehension slithered across her face, settling in her dark-brown eyes fringed with long lashes. They were Valero eyes—her father’s, Carlos’s. And Gabriela’s.
The door’s tinkling chime shattered the moment and she quickly grabbed a robe before turning from the mirror, leaving the wisps of dread clinging to the ornate bathroom tiles.
Chelsea Rush stood at the door, eyeing the corridor nervously over her shoulder. “Can I come in?”
“Uh…sure.”
As Chelsea scuttled past, Yelena gently closed the door. She gave the girl a few moments to fiddle with the decorations, to murmur appreciatively at her iMac then gracefully fall into the huge cream leather sofa.
“I see Alex put you in the Big-Shot Room,” the girl finally ventured.
Yelena perched on the sofa arm and smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s our superspecial executive suite for visiting sheikhs, rock stars, prime ministers. I heard one of the Rolling Stones trashed it once and Dad sent him the bil
l. The bathroom’s awesome. And you get freebies.”
“So I saw.” Yelena moved to the seat. “Must be great living in a place like this.”
“Alex and Mum love it.”
“And you?”
Chelsea shrugged. “It’s better than Canberra. Our house felt like a mausoleum.”
The house William Rush died in. “What about school? Your friends?”
She watched the teenager’s mouth thin. “I’ve had tutors since January.”
“Ahh.” Not exactly a full answer but Yelena let it go. “Can I get you a drink? Soda?”
“No, thank you.” Chelsea continued to look around the room, avoiding Yelena’s eyes until she lit upon Bella’s empty bottle on the dining table. “You have a baby? Here?”
“I do. Her name’s Bella.”
“Cool. Mum loves babies—she’ll probably offer to baby-sit, so watch out.” Chelsea grinned. “How old?”
“Five months. She was born on the eighteenth of March.”
“I’m a Pisces, too! March fourth. That’s funny.” She paused then said casually, “Can I ask you a question?”
Despite Chelsea’s nonchalance, Yelena knew it wasn’t going to be any ordinary question. Still, she tucked her legs beneath her and sat back, deliberately casual. “Sure.”
“Did you mean it about those fashion show tickets?”
Yelena nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Why?”
Yelena looked her straight in the eye, smiling. “You remembered my favorite designer. That tells me you’re pretty hooked.”
“But you don’t know me.” When Chelsea’s brow furrowed, her confusion clear, Yelena swallowed. What could she say that wouldn’t break Alex’s request for confidentiality? “I mean…you’re Gabriela’s sister and all—”
“Exactly.” Yelena thankfully grasped the straw. “And I know what it’s like when no one else gets what you love. It’ll be a fun way to get to know each other. Believe it or not, it’s been a while since I got out.” At the teenager’s continued silence, Yelena said softly, “But if you think your mum won’t approve…”
“No, it’s not that,” Chelsea said, her gaze skittering away. “I just…well… Alex told me and Mum he’s hired you to handle the press. So why would you want to…why are you—?” She scowled, as if annoyed by her lack of eloquence.