by Bella Rose
Chapter Two
Courtney was having trouble breathing. She sat behind a huge urn filled with flowers and draped in ribbons. She wasn’t too embarrassed to admit she was hiding. She was at a wedding reception full of people and she was trying her best to crawl into a hole and pretend that the whole thing was over because it had disaster written all over it.
What in the hell was Mikhail Krachenko doing here? He was dead. Her father had told her that he was dead. He’d been killed in some mob deal gone wrong nearly ten years ago. He couldn’t be alive. Except he was. And her whole body was still tingling in excitement just from the knowledge that he was alive!
“Courtney, what are you doing back here?” Monique stood a few feet away, hands propped on her narrow hips and a frown on her face. “You’re being stupid. At least your escort was hot. Did you even see mine? The guy is hideous! The only thing that will get that man some pussy is his bank account. I swear!”
“Monique, please go away?” Courtney begged. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Is this about that nonsense with your father and Creighton Kemper?” Monique half turned, standing on her tiptoes and not even being shy about seeing if she could peer around the reception hall to see who was there. “I don’t see Creighton, although you know he’s here. He would have to be, right?”
“Monique!” Courtney moaned. “Please?”
Monique actually reached down and grabbed Courtney’s arm. “That wedding planner hell bitch has demanded that all bridesmaids report to that column over there because we have to do that stupid dance with the bride and groom and our escorts.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Courtney said quickly.
“No you sure as hell aren’t!” Monique argued. “You’re not getting out of this that easily!”
“I can’t dance with him!”
“Ooo! Want to switch?” Monique’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll go along with that scheme.”
Courtney was dragged to her feet. She wobbled on her heels, feeling genuinely ill, but knowing that it was more psychological than anything else. Her father was here somewhere. So was that asshole Creighton. And now Mikhail was here too and she had no idea what to do about it.
“There!” Monique looped her arm through Courtney’s. “Just follow along and I’ll get you to the rendezvous point.”
It took Courtney no time at all to spot Mikhail. In fact if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was actually searching for her amidst the crowd. He looked the same. Sort of. The man was huge! He took up all the space in a room. His shoulders were broad, his waist slim and tapered. His ass was hard and round and pretty damn well perfect. He looked as if he worked out, and there was just something about him that reeked of male power. She would bet that nobody in his life argued with him. Ever. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. Right now they were utterly focused on her with an intensity that made her shiver from head to toe.
“He was supposed to be dead,” Courtney whispered. “How is it possible that he’s even here?”
“Who?” Monique wanted to know. “Wait. Do you actually know that guy?”
MIKHAIL WATCHED COURTNEY mince her way to the dance floor. It almost looked as if the other young woman was dragging Courtney over. The two of them had their heads together and were whispering at a frantic rate. What were they saying and why the hell did he care?
The other girl was taller, slimmer, and bonier than Mikhail liked. In fact if he was to try and describe the perfect woman, he was pretty certain he would have been describing Courtney to a tee. She was tall with long athletic legs and hips that had just a bit of a curve to them. Her breasts were full and perky, and she had a way of carrying herself that made her entire body sway with a little invitation. Her long hair had been pulled up into a bun on top of her head, but Mikhail could see it was still the color of warm honey. And those eyes were still as enchanting as ever.
“So, we’re supposed to get partners, right?” Courtney’s friend attempted to grab his hand. “I think I’ll claim you.” The woman stood up and batted her eyelashes right in his face. “You want to get lucky tonight?”
“Not with you,” Mikhail said flatly.
The woman was floored by his response. He could tell that she didn’t get turned down often. It was also very apparent she was making a valiant effort on her friend’s behalf. She grabbed his hand again. “My name is Monique. What’s yours?”
“Monique.” Mikhail gave her his sternest frown. “I’m not going to say this again. I want to talk to Courtney, so step off before I go ahead and embarrass the shit out of you when I make a scene.”
Monique’s mouth dropped open, but to her credit she stepped back. Mikhail reached for Courtney. Her fingers meshed smoothly with his as though they had spent no time apart. Regardless of anything she might say, her body remembered his. Mikhail wondered if that even mattered.
The dance began. Around them the guests were all jockeying for a position to see the bride and groom sashay around the floor. Mikhail wondered if Courtney had been trying to avoid dancing with him because she believed he didn’t know how. Maybe she thought he was still that low-life kid from the wrong side of the tracks who didn’t know a thing about acting polite in public or not, embarrassing himself with his ignorance.
“Let’s dance, shall we?” He raised Courtney’s knuckles to his lips and heard her breath hitch in response.
COURTNEY WAS GOING to die. He didn’t feel like a ghost. She’d thought briefly at the ceremony that he might be some kind of bizarre doppleganger, but he had known her name.
“They said your name was Mike.” The words popped out suddenly and she felt like a moron.
He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
She forced herself to focus on the conversation and not the amazing way he carried himself on the dance floor. This was not the sixteen-year-old boy who hadn’t had a clue how to behave in public. This was a man in command of everything. “Last night. You didn’t show up to the wedding rehearsal. The wedding planner kept calling you Mike.”
Mikhail snorted. “That woman has her head so far up her ass she wouldn’t know any of our names if she was paid to.” He made a sound of mock horror. “Oh wait. She was.”
“You’re different,” Courtney observed quietly. “Although you’re alive. Maybe you’re not really you.”
“Alive?” He looked confused.
They took another turn around the floor, and Courtney could see her father from the corner of her eye. He was craning his neck, trying to see whom it was she was dancing with. This was not going to end well. That was the only thing that Courtney knew for certain.
“What are you talking about?” Mikhail pressed.
She could actually feel the force of his personality as he probed for information. Wow. This was the same guy, but he was very different. It was actually sort of a—well, it was a major turn-on. The commanding way he held her, the way he smelled, and even the way he gazed at her as though she were the only woman on earth. It was all surreal and very flattering. Courtney couldn’t ever remember feeling like she was the sole focus of someone’s attention the way she did with him.
A tingle started somewhere below her belly and began to sent tendrils of warm excitement shooting through her body. She tried to keep her countenance serene, but it was becoming a struggle to pretend she was unaffected by Mikhail’s presence.
Courtney sucked in a deep breath. What had they been talking about? Oh right. He was alive. “My father told me that you got killed in some gangland brawl or something.”
“What?”
The word was so loud that it ricocheted off the walls inside the reception hall and made just about everyone nearby turn around to stare. Courtney looked around, feeling embarrassed. “You don’t need to make a scene. It’s not a big deal.”
“Your father told you that I was dead and you don’t think that’s a big deal.” He curled his lip, looking scary. Odd, but that turned her on even more. She was obviously out of
her mind. She should have been running the opposite way by now. The man was looking positively scary.
MIKHAIL WAS ALMOST certain he was about to blow his top. He could actually see that bastard Piers-Cameron watching him dance with Courtney. The guy had the audacity to act upset by it. As if Mikhail should be ashamed of himself still, to be seen with Piers-Cameron’s daughter. Even though Mikhail was the one with more money, more social standing, and more clout than the uppity bastard would ever admit.
Feeling reckless, Mikhail twirled Courtney right over to her father’s side. The old man blanched as he realized what was about to happen. Then Mikhail stopped moving and put his arm loosely around Courtney’s shoulders. “I just heard the most fascinating story, Gordon.”
“Is that right?”
It was odd, but good old Gordon didn’t even bother to pretend that they didn’t know each other. Usually when his friends were around he pretended that he had no idea who Mikhail was. The two of them had been “introduced” so many times that Mikhail had long ago lost track.
“Courtney shared with me that you told her all those years ago that I was dead.” Mikhail didn’t bother to change the flat tone in his voice. He wanted Gordon to know that this pissed him off. “But don’t worry. I’ve disabused her of that ridiculous notion.”
“I’m sure she’s thrilled.” Gordon smirked. “Although she looks ill. Courtney, why don’t you let Creighton take you home?”
Mikhail caught a glimpse of Courtney’s expression. She went absolutely ashen faced at her father’s mention of Creighton Kemper. Why?
“After all,” Gordon said with an obvious boast in his voice, “the two of them are engaged to be married. I’m sure Courtney would like some time alone with him.”
“Is that right?” Mikhail couldn’t help it. He dropped Courtney’s hand and stepped back. “Then far be it from me to stand in the way of two lovebirds. That would just be low of me, don’t you think?”
Gordon’s expression darkened. Mikhail thought about his revenge. It had absolutely nothing to do with Courtney. It was about Gordon Piers-Cameron. It was about a ridiculous and vindictive action done to a young man who had been trying so hard to leave his questionable roots and connections behind. Gordon would pay. But Courtney wasn’t a part of this. She was nothing.
“Courtney.” Mikhail gave a little bow. “Thank you for the dance. I think I’ll leave you to your fiancé now and be on my way.” He didn’t even bother to hide the dismissive cant of his expression. “I have more important things to see to at the moment, and I do believe poor Creighton is headed in this direction now anyway.”
The last thing Mikhail saw before he turned away was the look of horror on Courtney’s face. If she was engaged to the man, why did she look so sickened by the idea of being anywhere near him? And why did Mikhail care? This wasn’t his problem. At least, Courtney wasn’t his problem. And if she was happily married to Creighton Kemper and settled far away before the shit hit the fan, that was all the better.
Chapter Three
“How could you?” Courtney snarled at her father. “Engaged? I’m not engaged. You promised!”
“Well, now I’ve changed my mind.”
It disgusted Courtney to see how her father pandered to the people around him. He was so busy smiling, nodding, and waving to make sure that he was seen and acknowledged by everyone who mattered, that he completely failed to see what was right in front of his damn face.
“I’m not marrying Creighton,” she said slowly. “I’m not going to do it.”
“Yes. You are.” Her father turned and she could see the arrogant set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes. “You haven’t done a damn thing for this family since you were born. Now I’m telling you that you’re going to marry Creighton, or we’re all going to be so far up a creek without a paddle that it won’t matter what you want.”
Wait. What? Courtney tried to wrap her mind around what she was hearing. “Are you saying we’re in trouble?”
“Shut up.” He actually said the words through his totally fake smile. “We don’t talk about such things in public.”
“So it’s true!” She felt sick to her stomach. “You’re marrying me to Creighton because his family is richer than Midas.”
“You need money to survive, pumpkin.”
“No.” She hated that notion, and she especially hated that people assumed that about her. “I don’t. You do. So why don’t you marry Creighton.”
Her father took her arm, making a big show of the daddy-daughter thing and even giving some sweetie-pie looks to the people around them just before he pinched her beneath her arm and dragged her back behind the potted plant where she had hidden earlier.
Gordon Piers-Cameron grabbed her face and held on so tightly that her eyes started to water from the pain. “Look here, you ungrateful little bitch!” he snarled. “You are going to marry that twit, and then you are going to use whatever funds you gain to put capital back into our company so it doesn’t collapse.”
“Why would I do that?” she asked belligerently. “Because you’ve been so kind to me over the years? Or maybe because you lied to me about Mikhail!”
“Don’t be foolish!” Her father totally brushed that off as though it didn’t matter at all. “He was a nobody. He is still a nobody, and he will always be a nobody. You’re too good for him. You know it. That’s why it was so easy to convince you that he was gone for good. Somewhere in that hard head of yours, you knew it was better that way.”
Courtney stared at her father, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. “I cried myself to sleep every single night for over a year! I loved him. I wanted to be with him. And you told me that he was dead and I would never ever see him again! You broke my heart!”
“Then your heart was stupid,” her father retorted. “And it’s best that I told it what to think then, just like I’m going to do now.”
* * *
Mikhail had already decided long ago that weddings sucked. Today’s was just sucking far more than he ever could have anticipated. Who would have thought that he would see Courtney Piers-Cameron, have a little tête-à-tête with her father, and then feel as though he’d been gut punched because he was told that the stupid woman had gone and gotten engaged to some milksop idiot?
“You’re in a bad mood,” Toby observed as he approached Mikhail’s right shoulder. “Might I ask what has you looking so dark and broody? Keep this up and you’ll have all the bridesmaids over here ready to rip your clothes off.”
“All of them but one,” Mikhail grunted.
Toby raised his brows. “Having lady troubles? Mikhail? No! I’ll never believe it.”
“Do you know anything about Courtney Piers-Cameron?”
Toby shrugged. “Other than the fact that she and my wife went to college together? Not really. Why? Should I try to find something out for you?”
“No.” Mikhail should not care about this one way or the other. He should be consumed with his plans. They were finally coming together, and he had no time for ridiculousness with an old flame.
“In other words, yes,” Toby said with a laugh. “I can’t say that I’ll remember to talk about your romantic problems with my wife on our honeymoon, but I’ll certainly try to mention it if something comes up.”
“Gee, thanks.” Mikhail suddenly realized something. “Has she always been around?”
“Courtney?” Toby frowned. “I guess. You didn’t go to school with the rest of us”—Toby lifted his hands—“Believe me, I don’t consider that a failing of any kind.”
Mikhail chuckled. That was one reason he had always liked Toby. The guy was about as unassuming as the rest of his peers were snooty. And oddly enough Toby had more money, was more successful, and had more friends than the rest of them combined.
“I knew her a long time ago,” Mikhail said softly. “I just never thought I’d see her again.”
“Was that…?” Toby seemed to be putting the pieces together in his head.
“Holy shit! That was the chick you had the hots for all those years ago?”
“If that’s what you call it, then yes.” Mikhail hated the idea that he was some kind of lovesick puppy-dog-eyes, star-crossed moron. “Although I prefer to think of it as being led around by my teenaged hormones instead of my good sense.”
“Hey, no judgment from me,” Toby assured him. “I get it. Women make fools of us all.”
“Which is why I’m going home before I do something else I’ll regret in the morning,” Mikhail informed his friend. “Congratulations and all that shit, man. But I’ll just catch you when you get back from your honeymoon.”
“Dude, you’re leaving?” Toby looked alarmed. “The photographer and that wedding planner lady are going to kill me if you’re not around for pictures.”
“Didn’t we do that earlier?” Mikhail was almost certain there had been a bunch of that crap at the church. And Courtney had skillfully managed to avoid him the entire time.
“Just go.” Toby heaved a giant-sized sigh. “I’ll just pretend you’re off screwing some chick you just met. Nobody would question that excuse.”
Mikahil laughed, mostly because it was true. “Later!”
Leaving Toby behind, Mikhail headed for the front of the hotel. Fortunately he’d gotten a room for the night because he was tired and more than ready to crash in front of the television for the night.
COURTNEY TRIED TO tug her arm out of Creighton’s grasp, but he was too strong. He twisted her wrist and pinched, silently warning her to stop. In the meantime he was busy smiling and waving to the reception guests flooding the big hotel ballroom.
“Stop squirming,” he said through his teeth. “Or I’ll break your arm in front of all these people.”
“I’ll scream,” she said bitterly.
“They’d just think you’re crazy.” Creighton laughed and gave an exaggerated wave to a local judge along with a big fake helping of his toothy smile. “My father is a senator and owns one of the largest electric cooperatives in the state. Nobody is going to believe a word against me.”