Instinctive Male (12 page)

“I always knew you two had a thing for each other. I never understood it, but I knew that it was there by the way you kept digging at him. Now you’re using him and he’s going to lose his precious resort. Daddy said so. Or maybe he’s using you. Maybe he’s just the same as dear old Dad
and needs you to make him look good. That’s what Daddy thought—that you made him look good…because you were classy and I wasn’t. He wasn’t proud of me. He didn’t want me around until now that I’ve got a chance to bring in a man with money and power…. And Tanya is going to cinch the deal for us…. I need a drink. Come on, Freddie—”

Mikhail blocked Hillary’s path toward the Amoteh. “No.”

She pointed to the sprawling resort. “Dad owns that, you know. I get free Mignon International accommodations wherever I go, and free drinks.”

“Not here, you don’t. Consider the Amoteh and grounds off-limits.” Mikhail caught the open hand Hillary sailed at him. “You may leave now.”

“You’ll be sorry…both of you,” Hillary shot at Ellie as she climbed into the SUV. She slammed the door and roared out of the parking lot, headed for Amoteh.

“There you have it,” Ellie said quietly. “Family loving time, Lathrop style. I’ve got to see about Tanya.”

“She’s at my parents and Jarek knows that Hillary is around. She’s safe, Ellie.”

She was shaking and pale, as she watched the SUV drive toward a local tavern and pull into the Seagull’s Perch parking lot. “It’s good she’s got someone with her. She needs someone to take care of her. When Hillary hurts or she’s mad, she drinks.”

Love and the frustration wrapped in her quiet words. Mikhail caught her chin and turned her cheek for his inspection. “You’re bleeding.”

“Leave me alone,” Ellie ordered bitterly as her hand pushed his away. “Don’t touch me.”

Mikhail stilled, feeling as though a sheet of ice had slid between them. Locked in the past moments, Ellie did not turn to him, did not let him comfort her. She stood shaking and in pain and she didn’t want him to touch her, this woman he adored, whose smile filled him with pleasure, whose tears made him ache.

Her eyes held him, soft and damp with pain she could not release, her lips trembling and vulnerable. The past held her, cold and bitter, and he was helpless against it.

“I have to go to my daughter,” she whispered desperately as she began moving toward the wooded path leading to the Stepanovs. “I have to know that she is safe.”

Mikhail stood in the cold wind, watching Ellie run over the path.
In her pain, she had not turned to him….

T
hat night, after Tanya was asleep, Mikhail knocked on the door to Ellie’s suite. When she opened it, he towered over her, his expression grim. His white dress shirt hung open, and his hair was rumpled as if he had been running his fingers through it.

“Let me see your face,” he ordered, framing her chin between his thumb and finger and tilting it to the light. A fierce hot wave of unspoken anger hit her as his eyes glittered, green as emeralds.

“I’m not hurt.” She stood rigid, unused to a caring touch.

“How many times have you been hurt and no one took care of you?” he demanded roughly as his thumb smoothed the small injury.

Memories of past pain flashed by Ellie as she closed her eyes to him. Her pride was slipping away, humbled by his attention. “I’m not a victim. I never have been. The only thing that matters in this is Tanya’s safety.”

“Of course,” he said more gently as he smoothed her cheek. She was beginning to understand that his big hands conveyed his emotions better than his words. When he cherished and enjoyed any of the craftsmen’s work, a flower, or a child, his fingertips traced and his eyes followed the flow. Now he had focused on her, his touch gentle, explorative.

“Mikhail?”

“What?” His deep voice was uneven and harsh and she knew what he needed, to hold her and to protect her. She sensed him waiting to be asked.

When her lips moved and the words she wanted didn’t come, Mikhail’s expression tightened, a shadow crossing the stark masculine planes. He nodded and closed the door between them.

After a sleepless night, endlessly replaying Hillary’s bitterness, the fear that Tanya would be taken, and haunted by the pain in Mikhail’s expression, as if he’d taken a slap, Ellie braced herself to face him.

At eight o’clock in the morning, Mikhail was unapproachable—cool, crisp and businesslike, a man of steel, and not the lover she had known. While going over schedules and plans in his office, Ellie attempted to break through that veneer. “I’m sorry that I involved you in this, Mikhail.”

His angular face was all shadows and planes, a muscle contracting in his jaw as he slashed a signature across papers. She ached to smooth the slight shaving cut on his cheek.

Was he regretting making love with her?

Those dark green eyes pinned her and Mikhail leaned back in his chair, studying her. He tossed his pen onto the papers. “Anything else?”

There was so much she wanted to say, but Mikhail’s expression wasn’t encouraging. Just below the cool surface, he was simmering with anger. “I…no, thank you.”

The muscle in his cheek contracted and his lips tight
ened. He picked up the pen and began studying the paperwork on his desk, clearly dismissing her. “Then we both have work to do, don’t we?”

As Ellie walked with Tanya on the beach later that day, her mind was on Hillary’s violence and Mikhail.

Mikhail’s head had gone back as if taking a slap when she’d said, “Don’t touch me.”
She’d hurt him.

She was ashamed of what he had just seen, of Hillary, the little sister she had always tried to protect, drunk and abusive. It wasn’t easy for Ellie to blend her life with Mikhail’s, to understand that he needed to protect her. A sensitive, emotional man beneath his steel exterior, Mikhail as a person with needs and unexpected vulnerability was new to her.

On the beach, sandpipers scurried in a zigzag line and waves tipped by foam caressed the sand. Seaweed, dark green against the brown sand, shifted almost sensually with the kiss of the water.

Ellie inhaled the salt scent into her, listening to the gulls, and she should have felt a measure of peace—she didn’t. She felt as if Chief Kamakani’s curse still prowled the land he hated, and danger lurked nearby. Ellie briefly scanned the shore and the pier and higher on a boardwalk, near the piers lashed together with cable, a big man stood—Lars.

Poised against the blue sky, he seemed to be watching Tanya. Lars had already proven to be a dangerous man, and only a few people were on the beach in the late afternoon. Ellie hurried Tanya up the rough wooden steps to Amoteh’s tourist street, where there were more people. Filled with artists’ seascapes and colorful bouquets of stat-ice and wind chimes made from seashells, the shops were still open and Tanya was delighted to enter the toy store.

Caught up in the little girl’s excitement over a miniature tea set, Ellie forgot about Lars and enjoyed the cluttered store. The owners, elderly sisters, chatted about weather and toys and Ellie purchased a small teddy bear for Tanya.
The sisters were still chatting happily as Ellie left the store, Tanya holding her hand.

The cheerful sisters eased Ellie’s tension, and she forgot about Lars as she stopped to talk with Lisa Peterson, a maid at the Amoteh. She’d just bought material for her daughters’ Easter dresses, and missing her own sewing, Ellie admired the delicate rosebuds on the fabric.

One glance told her that Tanya was gone and fear electrified Ellie. Hillary wasn’t above kidnaping…. “Tanya!”

From two stores down the street, Tanya answered immediately. “Mommy!”

Hurrying toward the sound, Ellie’s heart froze as she saw Lars holding Tanya, a lollipop in the little girl’s hand. “Put her down,” Ellie ordered fiercely.

“He’s going to show me some puppies, Mommy, but I said I’d have to ask you first,” Tanya said as Lars seemed to debate releasing the child.

Every nerve in Ellie’s body prickled as Lars’s expression changed to defiance.

“Put her down now,” Ellie ordered again, surprised that she could sound so cool and firm when fear and temper were raging inside her.

Lars’s small eyes narrowed as he glanced around the street to find several people watching them. He lowered Tanya to the ground, none too gently. “You’re pretty small to be ordering a man around, but then I ain’t no Mikhail Stepanov either to let a woman run my life, Ms. Lathrop of the fancy, la-di-da money. You’re the same as any other woman, and don’t you forget it.”

“Leave us alone,” Ellie said quietly, fiercely.

Lars leered down at her, and her anger vibrated, almost throwing her against him. “Well, now. Stepanov’s woman has a temper, don’t she? I’ll bet you’re a real she-cat—”

“That’s enough.”

Lars glanced around once more as if considering his options, and then shrugged. “We ain’t done, lady,” he said before walking away.

Ellie shook as she knelt to gather Tanya into her arms, and to throw away the lollipop. “Don’t you ever, ever go with that man again, or take anything he gives you.”

When Tanya blinked and tears came to her eyes, Ellie regretted showing her fear. She hugged Tanya close, and looked up to see Lars watching them over his shoulder. “I’ll get you candy, Tanya, but never take any from someone you don’t know.”

“He said he knew you.”

“Well, he does, but he isn’t a man I like,” Ellie stated fiercely.

Rita, the waitress at the Seagull’s Perch, stopped and studied Ellie. “Everything all right? I saw Lars talking with your little girl. You look just like your sister, Ellie—she was talking to Lars at the Seagull. I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. He’s had a longtime grudge against the Stepanovs, and it’s no secret that—”

Rita glanced warily at Tanya, who was watching with wide eyes. “Mikhail isn’t just playing games, Ellie.”

“Mikhail plays games,” Tanya stated adamantly. “He plays with me.”

Ellie held Tanya on her hip, still caught in the fear of seeing Lars holding her. Hillary was capable of anything to get her way, and she’d been talking to Lars…. “Did you hear what they said, my sister and Lars?”

“Only that she’d make it worth his while. Did I say something wrong? You just went white.”

Ellie was already moving up the wooden steps to the Amoteh, hurrying Tanya along. Then Mikhail stood in front of her, and Tanya ran ahead to him. “Mikhail! I got a new teddy bear at the toy store.”

He lifted her into his arms and kissed her cheek, but his eyes held Ellie’s. “What’s wrong with Mommy, Tanya?”

Tanya looped an arm around his neck and looked solemnly at Ellie. “She’s mad at me for talking to the man. I just wanted the sucker. She threw it away.”

“Lars,” Ellie said quietly. “I probably overreacted. He’s talked to my sister.”

“I know. Henry, the bartender, called me.” Mikhail kissed Tanya again, but his eyes never left Ellie. They agreed silently that Hillary would use the resources at hand, and Lars had added a potential new dangerous dimension. “Let’s go inside and you can tell me what you saw in the store, okay? You know what?” Mikhail asked Tanya. “I have a sucker in my office shaped like a strawberry just for you. Then I have a meeting to attend, and Grandma Mary Jo wants you to come to dinner.”

An hour and a half later, Mikhail came to dinner at the Stepanovs’. He wore a taut, brooding look. His knuckles on his right hand were bruised, proving to Ellie he had met Lars. When she looked at his hand, Mikhail shrugged and spoke quietly. “It’s what he understands. I think it would be wise for Tanya to visit Mother’s family in Texas. She was planning a trip anyway. Paul is coming in a few days. He won’t be sweet.”

Over dinner, the month-long trip to Mary Jo’s family in Texas was quickly arranged, while Fadey would stay and meet the rising orders for Stepanov furniture. Since Tanya already had her favorite doll and her day-bag of clothing with her, whatever else she needed would be purchased.

The Stepanovs carefully avoided commenting about the scratch on Ellie’s cheek, though Fadey had caught her chin and turned the injury to his inspection. He kissed the small wound. “There. Get better, little one. You let my Mikhail care for you, eh? He’s a good boy, you know.”

She’d managed a wobbly smile, because Mikhail had looked so fierce and angry with her.

Delighted with the tiny teacups and saucers that Mikhail had purchased from the sisters, Tanya bubbled with excitement. She carefully served water from the tiny teapot into the cups.

“Delicious,” Fadey exclaimed as he watched Mikhail stare at Ellie, and her blush rise.

Her hand shook as she lifted the tiny tea cup to her lips and avoided Mikhail’s dark, searing look.
Don’t touch me,
she’d said and hurt him, a man who needed to comfort and to hold her.

A graceful woman, sensing tension and skilled at soothing her family, Mary Jo smiled at Ellie, who was now holding a sleepy Tanya. “Well, Tanya, darlin’, if we’re going to get up early to see all those cows and horses, then we’d better get going—Come on, Mama. You both should stay the night here if we’re getting an early start. Tuck your little girl in. Goodness, you don’t look like more than a girl yourself.”

Ellie cradled Tanya as she slid into sleep, and then lay quietly, listening to Mikhail and his parents talk in the living room.

In her world, tender emotions weren’t exposed. Worn by her scene with Hillary and fear for Tanya, Ellie regretted not taking what Mikhail offered, the comfort of his arms. How badly she’d wanted to step into his arms…but the past had tangled around her. Giving herself into someone else’s care seemed like a bridge she couldn’t cross easily. Too exhausted, she slid into sleep, holding Tanya close….

She awoke to see Mikhail outlined in the doorway, and then the door closed, just as he had shut her away from him.

Ellie gathered Tanya closer, nuzzled the girl’s fragrant hair, and ached for Mikhail’s arms around her.

Mikhail tossed the telephone records onto Ellie’s desk. “Paul and Hillary have been calling, and you didn’t see fit to tell me.”

Her office was small and cluttered and feminine, splashed with color and daffodils, and he felt like a barbarian striking out at her. In the two days since Tanya and his mother had gone, Ellie had withdrawn from him, her
eyes shadowed as she worked long hours trying to prove herself. The telephone records said she had made several calls to her family, and their calls had been erratic. Whatever was going on between them, she’d cut him out….

He had given his heart to her, and she didn’t trust him.

“You’ve been busy,” Ellie said evenly.

“Yes, of course. I always am at this time of year.”

“I mean that you’re taking time to check on me. It’s private, Mikhail. More threats, more anger. Typical Lathrop stuff. I’ll deal with it. And don’t you ever fight with Lars again. There are other ways of handling him.”

Mikhail thought of the scene in the Seagull’s Perch—Lars had swung first, and Mikhail had finished the bulkier man easily. Lars wouldn’t admit to anything, nor was he a man to take a warning; he made no pretenses—he hated the Stepanovs.

“The situation with Lars is old and bitter and not of your making…. You said, ‘I’ll deal with it,’ not
‘We’ll
deal with it.”’

“I just don’t want you or your family hurt. Hillary is one thing, but you know Paul. He’s playing the waiting game. He’s offered me a job.”

She was leaving.
His body tensed as though taking a blow. “And?”

“If I leave you now, there’s no one to cover my plans, to follow them through.”

How could she leave him? Mikhail fought anger and pain. “Don’t let that stop you. We’ll handle it.”

“You’re angry.”

“Yes. But that doesn’t change this—” He reached to tug her up into his arms, and in his frustration took her lips in heat and hunger. She gasped once, tensed to resist, and then her hands were in his hair, holding him as he wanted.

Aware of her body softening into his, Mikhail broke the kiss and studied Ellie’s drowsy eyes, her swollen lips. He ran his hands down her body and then back up, releasing
her quickly. “So it was always there for us. Just this, if no more. Have a nice day.”

Ellie’s expression darkened. “You, too, Mikie. And by the way, Lars isn’t your problem. He’s mine. I’ll talk to him about Hillary.”

Ellie had no conception of how brutal Lars could be—he’d abused his wife and son. “No, you won’t. Leave Lars to me.”

Her head tilted and the strands of honey blond swirled along her cheek. “I’ve been managing without you for quite a while.”

“We both know that you need me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Because you need me?”