He was lowering the roof of the Aston Martin while talking on his mobile phone. Maybe he was arranging her flight home? Misery swept through her as she faced the devastating reality that he would never hold her in his arms again. She felt dizzy with grief, and as she walked down the front steps she lost her footing. Her startled cry rent the air, and she heard Vadim swear violently, saw him move towards her—and then there was nothing.
She came round to find that Vadim had laid her on the back seat of his car. She lifted her lashes and stared groggily at him, shocked by how grey he looked beneath his tan. His jaw was rigid, and for a moment something blazed in his eyes, before he moved away from her and leapt into the driver’s seat.
‘My violin!’ she cried, staring back at her violin and her suitcase, lying on the driveway as the car sped away. ‘Vadim, I can’t go to the airport without it.’
‘We’re not going to the airport,’ he informed her tersely. ‘I’m taking you to the local hospital.’
‘The hosp…? I fainted, that’s all.’ She sat up, and the wind whipped her hair across her face.
‘Women do not faint without a reason,’ he said grimly. ‘You’re as pale as death, you’ve barely eaten a thing all week, and you collapsed and would have fallen down a set of stone steps if I hadn’t caught you. I have a friend who is a doctor. Claude will check you out, and if he says you’re well enough to travel, then I’ll take you to the airport.’
His implacable tone warned Ella that arguing would be futile. How could she tell him that she had suffered an extreme physical reaction to the mental anguish she felt at the ending of their affair? He would guess that she was in love with him, and then her pride as well as her heart would be in tatters.
At the hospital they were met by a nurse, who whisked Ella off to check her blood pressure and requested a urine sample before ushering her into the doctor’s office.
Claude Arnot stood up from his desk and indicated that she should take a seat. She glared at Vadim when he dropped into the chair next to her, but his hard smile told her that he was staying for her consultation with the doctor.
‘Vadim tells me you have lost your appetite recently, Mademoiselle Stafford. Do know why that could be?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve been feeling a bit nauseous, but I suffer from occasional migraines, and I suspect I’m going to be hit by one any day soon.’
The doctor nodded. ‘Is everything else normal? Your periods, for instance? When was the date of your last one?’
‘I don’t really know.’ Ella frowned, trying to remember, and feeling ridiculously embarrassed at discussing something so personal in front of Vadim. ‘They’ve never been regular. In fact my GP told me it’s possible that I will need fertility treatment if I ever want children. But the demands of my career mean that I will probably never choose to have a family,’ she explained, with a faint catch in her voice.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the nurse, who handed the doctor some notes. He skimmed through them in silence. He would probably say that she was anaemic, Ella decided. She had forgotten to mention that her GP had prescribed a course of iron pills last year, when a blood test had shown that she was suffering from an iron deficiency. She wished he would hurry up. Sitting next to Vadim, breathing in the familiar sandalwood scent of his cologne, was torture, and she was in danger of flinging herself at him and begging him to take her to Prague with him.
She gave a start when Claude Arnot cleared his throat, and looked across the desk at him, puzzled by his sympathetic smile.
‘I hope your career is not too demanding, Mademoiselle Stafford,’ the doctor said gently, ‘because you are pregnant.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AFTERWARDS, Ella had no clear recollection of walking out of the consulting room. On the periphery of her shell-shocked mind she heard Vadim’s terse voice, asking if the test indicated when she might have conceived, and heard the doctor’s reply that she was about six weeks into her pregnancy.
It must have happened at Kingfisher House, right at the beginning of their affair, she thought dazedly, as Vadim gripped her elbow and whisked her back to the car. His thoughts were obviously on the same track, and as he fired the engine he said harshly, ‘That first time in the summerhouse, during the storm—I didn’t use protection. I assumed, since you did not say anything, that there had been no repercussions after my carelessness, but clearly that is not the case.’
He was white-lipped with shock, and Ella sank back in her seat as they sped back to the villa, trembling with reaction to the astounding news that she was carrying Vadim’s baby. The possibility had not crossed her mind. As she had explained to Dr Arnot, her periods had never been regular, but she had not bothered to seek a reason because she had assumed that, as she never planned to get married, she would never have children.
From the look of fury on Vadim’s face it was clear he did not welcome the news that she was expecting his child. A wave of protectiveness flooded through her, so strong that she placed her hands on her flat stomach. Poor baby! At this early stage it was technically only a cluster of cells, but to Ella it was a child that she and Vadim had created. Could their baby possibly know that it was unwelcome? The idea was so unbearable that tears filled her eyes, and love swept through her with the force of a tidal wave; love for the baby she had never expected to conceive, but who already aroused such a fierce maternal instinct within her that she knew she would give her life for her child.
But what was she going to do? How would she manage as a single mother? She could not realistically pursue a career as a soloist when it would mean dragging a young child around the world each time she toured, she acknowledged heavily. Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice that they had driven through the gates of the Villa Corraline until Vadim cut the engine, and her heart thudded frantically in her chest when he led the way into the house in a grim silence that shredded her nerves.
He had no right to be so angry, she thought rebelliously when he ushered her into the sitting room and followed her inside, closing the door with an ominous thud. He had admitted that her pregnancy was due to his mistake. He was probably furious because he believed she would demand a huge maintenance agreement for their child—but he had no need to worry, she thought fiercely. She wanted nothing from him. Somehow she would manage to bring up her child alone.
Vadim crossed to the bar and poured himself a large vodka, uncaring that it was only eleven a.m. His hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips, and he gulped the clear liquid down in one, feeling the alcohol warm the blood that had frozen in his veins. Ella had moved to stand by the window and sunlight danced over her hair, turning it into a river of gold that flowed down her back. She was so beautiful—but he could not bear to look at her, and he gripped the glass in his hand so tightly that it was in danger of shattering.
‘No wonder you were so desperate to leave France and go back to London,’ he bit out savagely. ‘I assume you weren’t going to tell me you are carrying my child.’
Startled by the accusation, Ella shook her head. ‘I had no idea I was pregnant,’ she defended herself.
‘How could you not have known?’ Vadim demanded blisteringly. ‘You must have known, and that’s why, out of the blue, you announced that you wanted to end our affair—because you didn’t want me to find out.’ He drew a ragged breath and fought to control the emotions that had been building inside him since the shocking revelation that Ella had conceived his baby.
‘Push me higher on the swing, Papa…’ Klara’s sweet voice echoed in his mind, and for a moment he saw her face with such crystal clarity that he felt he could almost reach out and touch her, hold her wriggling little body in his arms and tell her she was his princess. Grief pierced him like an arrow through the heart. Klara had gone, and he would never hear her laughter again. But now, amazingly, there would be another child—not a replacement for the child he had lost, but a precious gift he would treasure, a second chance at father-hood that he would not fail.
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br /> He stared at Ella, recalling the several occasions when she had stated that she did not plan to have children because she wanted to concentrate on her career, and a sickening suspicion crept into his mind. ‘Do you intend to go ahead with the pregnancy?’ he demanded coldly. ‘Or was the reason for your sudden decision to rush back to England so that you could have a termination?’ He ignored her shocked gasp and continued harshly, ‘You might not want this baby, but I do. I realise that nine months of pregnancy will interrupt your career, but I will compensate you financially, and from the moment the baby is born I will take charge of it. You will be able to have your life back.’
Ella opened her mouth, but her vocal cords had been strangled and no sound emerged. ‘You’re offering to…to buy the baby from me?’ she faltered at last, shock swiftly replaced by searing rage. ‘How dare you make the appalling suggestion that I would even think about ending my pregnancy?’ Her emotions were on a rollercoaster, and her anger died as quickly as it had come as hurt unfurled inside her. How could she ever have believed that she and Vadim were growing close when he could think that of her? It proved that he did not know her at all, she thought miserably.
But in truth his reaction to the news of her pregnancy had taken her by surprise. She had not expected him to want this baby. But she had seen the pain in his eyes when he had told her about the tragic loss of his daughter—she should have known that he would feel protective of the child she was carrying.
‘I might not have planned to have children, but I want this baby, and I will love it and be the best mother I possibly can,’ she said shakily. ‘If you want to be involved in our child’s upbringing, then I’m sure we can work out arrangements for shared access and…and visiting rights,’ she pushed on, her voice wavering slightly when Vadim’s brows drew together in a thunderous frown.
‘I have no intention of visiting my child,’ he grated. ‘I want to be a proper, hands-on father.’ The kind of father he should have been to Klara, instead of spending long hours at his office.
‘But…what will we do?’ Ella queried uncertainly, wondering if Vadim would demand that their baby should spend a few weeks, or even months, living with each of them in turn. An arrangement along those lines might enable her to continue with her career, she acknowledged. But she knew instantly that she would not be able to bear being parted from her child for even a day, and compared to being a mother her career was no longer the most important thing in her life.
‘I’m not sure how we’ll sort out the details,’ Vadim admitted. ‘All I know is that I am determined to take an active role in my child’s upbringing. Maybe we could continue with the arrangement to share Kingfisher House, so that the baby lives with both of us?’
Ella frowned, wondering if he meant that she and the baby would live in the caretaker flat, enabling him to see his child regularly while he maintained his bachelor lifestyle in the main part of the house. He had made it clear that he wanted his baby, but had made no mention of how he saw her future role in his life. He might bring other women back for the night, she thought, blanching at the idea of living next door to him, knowing that he was making love to a new mistress in the master bedroom where he had once made love to her.
‘That would be unbearable!’ she burst out, feeling sick with misery. ‘I want to live in my own house and lead my own life.’
Did the new life she suddenly seemed so keen on include dating other men? Vadim wondered furiously. He felt as though he had been kicked in the gut by her adamant refusal to share Kingfisher House with him. It seemed the obvious solution, which would enable them to both care for the baby, but Ella had sounded horrified by the suggestion.
What if she had a relationship with some guy and invited him to stay the night—or even move in with her? Jealousy burned like acid in his stomach as he imagined another man making love to her, and perhaps acting as a father figure to his child. The prospect was intolerable, and his resolve hardened.
‘I should warn you that if we cannot reach an amicable agreement on shared care then I will fight for sole custody of our child—and I will win,’ he said harshly.
Ella paled. He was deadly serious, she realised shakily. She had always known that beneath his charisma there was a ruthless side to him, and here now was proof of his lethal power. ‘You wouldn’t…’ she said shakily.
‘I can afford the best lawyers; and I can give our child a stable home, an excellent education—everything that money can buy,’ he listed harshly. ‘Whereas you…’ He raked his eyes over her slender figure. ‘You have admitted that you need to practise your violin for five or six hours a day, and playing with an orchestra means that you would be at work in the evenings. What do you propose to do with our child then? Leave him or her in the care of a babysitter? And what about when you are on tour—will you drag the baby around Europe with you?’
‘I don’t know!’ she cried, hating him for voicing exactly the same problems she had foreseen. ‘Despite what you think, finding out that I’m pregnant was a complete shock, and right now my world feels as though it has been turned upside down,’ she admitted huskily, brushing her hand across her eyes to wipe away her tears.
The betraying gesture tugged on Vadim’s conscience and his anger drained away—to be replaced with a strong urge to haul her into his arms and simply hold her, tell her that he would take care of her and their baby. But she had made it clear that she did not want his care. Pain lanced him, and he moved away from her, needing to put some space between them while he brought his emotions back under control. He who prided himself on having dismissed emotions from his life! That was a laugh, he thought savagely. Ella had got him so stirred up that he couldn’t think straight, and his normal cool logic had been replaced with a seething mass of emotions.
Ella was right. The news of her pregnancy had been a shock for both of them, and if she felt anything like him then she was beyond rational thought right now. They needed a breathing space, and whatever else was happening in his life the logical part of his brain reminded him that he still needed to go to Prague. His dedication to his business was still total, and iron self-discipline won over the urge to send one of his executives to the meeting so that he could remain at the villa with Ella.
‘We’ll continue with this discussion in a couple of days, when I get back from my trip,’ he told her brusquely, silently acknowledging that there was nothing to discuss. He had not expected to be a father again, but Ella had conceived his baby, and he was utterly determined to bring his child up and be the best father he could.
‘You need to sit down before you fall down,’ he growled, concern flooding through him when she swayed on her feet. She looked like a wraith; all wide, bruised eyes in a face the colour of parchment, and with a muttered oath he lifted her into his arms and strode out of the room and up the stairs. ‘I’ll tell Hortense to bring you something to eat,’ he told her, referring to the good-natured housekeeper and cook who worked at the villa. ‘Rest for a while—for the baby’s sake,’ he reminded her when she opened her mouth to argue, and took advantage of her parted lips to bestow a brief, stinging kiss that drew Ella’s instant response and left her full of despair as she watched him stride out of the room, the taste of him lingering on her skin.
Minutes later she heard the Aston Martin roar down the drive. The dramatic events of the morning had left her physically and emotionally drained, and she lay lethargically on the bed, feeling too weak to move.
She was still stunned that she was going to have a baby. It was unexpected and unplanned, but as the news sank in she felt a piercing joy at the prospect of being a mother. Her mind turned to Vadim’s threat that he would fight for custody of the baby, and her happiness dissolved. She sat up and instinctively placed her hand on her stomach, as if to protect the tiny speck of life within her.
As Vadim had pointed out, he could afford to hire the best lawyers, and there was a strong possibility he would win a court battle. Panic swept through her, destroying all rational t
hought. She would never hand over her child—never. All she could think of was to leave the villa before he got back from Prague and flee back to England. She would move out of Kingfisher House and go away somewhere, cover her tracks so that he could not find her, she decided frantically. And, filled with a sudden energy born of desperation, she jumped up, grabbed her violin and the suitcase that the maid must have rescued from the driveway after Vadim had driven her to the hospital, and raced down the stairs.
Vadim strode through the hotel lobby, trying to focus his mind on the take-over bid of a media company that he was about to clinch. The deal was an important one, hence his decision to personally attend the meeting to hammer out the last remaining details. But instead of profit margins all he could think about was Ella.
Ella and his baby. Thoughts of his unborn child eased the ache in his heart caused by the death of his little daughter so many years ago. He had mourned his wife too, but his grief at losing Irina had been mingled with a feeling of guilt that he had not loved her as deeply as she had loved him. He had cared for her, and had tried to do his best for her, but he had not felt the earth-shattering, volcanic eruption of emotion that the poets described as love.
In all honesty he had not believed that such a powerful love even existed, and if it did he had always been certain that he was not capable of it. But now, as he stood on the steps of the hotel and stared across the ancient city of Prague, he realised that his life was a series of dull black and white images without Ella.
Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence Page 16
