by Cait London
And we will be again, so make plans to be ousted, baby, was the underlying statement.
Mikhail always knew what he was doing: it was likely that he sent Heather to the house so she could see Alexi was involved with another woman. Jessica didn’t appreciate the favor, not when she was dressed for remodeling and painting.
“No, these aren’t his children and I haven’t seen your picture—anywhere. He’s at the tavern. Thank you for that information. Goodbye.” Jessica closed the door and stood still, stunned by the woman’s sudden appearance.
“Gosh, she’s beautiful,” Tanya said admiringly. Then she sneezed. “She smells yuck.”
“Yes, she is pretty and that ‘smell’ is probably one-thousand-dollars-a-half-ounce of Parisian perfume.” On her way to feed the baby, Jessica saw herself in the mirror—mussed hair, a shiny, clean face; she wore paint-stained bib overalls and eau d’enfant. Only months ago she had looked like a tired, brittle businesswoman trying to conceal the drain on her energy and pushing for more…
Heather Pell was an exciting, gorgeous femme fatale on the hunt. Would Alexi still find her attractive? Of course he would. What man wouldn’t drool at the woman’s sexual power, those long legs, that mass of blond hair?
Heather had hurt Alexi badly. After three years, he was still angry—still moody when Jessica and he had met. Back then, she’d experienced firsthand his bitterness and resentment for women who looked somewhat like Heather.
Jessica couldn’t let that happen to him again. Jessica had protected a corporation for years. Now she decided to save her lover from a woman who devoured men and cast them aside for a bigger catch.
Her breath caught with the next thought: she’d never been jealous before and she’d just gotten a big, wide, red blast of that unsettling emotion. All because of Alexi.
At closing time Alexi glanced at the woman who had just entered the tavern. He did a double take and knew he was in trouble. Jessica wore that slinky female expression that shielded a determined angry one—if he was reading correctly those narrowed green eyes emphasized by mascara and the glossy set of her lips.
When a man’s intended came strolling in to find another woman all but spreading herself on the bar in front of him—he was in deep, dangerous water.
Just divorced, Heather had come hunting him for an obvious reunion—she wore the platinum engagement ring that had cost Alexi a small fortune. And she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I’m free now. It was all a mistake and I’m so sorry. We can pick right up where we left off—”
Jessica placed the Amoteh Resort’s wine and dinner basket on a table with a thud and took off her coat. She wore a formfitting, long-sleeved gray sweater and tight black jeans. She gripped the basket and, in her red high heels, walked slowly toward him.
Jessica was dressed to do business of a feminine kind and he wasn’t certain just how this scenario would end.
Across the polished bar from Alexi, Heather wore a slinky, slip-like lacy beige dress that showed her cleavage. She didn’t turn as Jessica walked slowly toward the bar; Alexi had moved behind it, putting distance between Heather’s clinging body and his own.
The click of Jessica’s heels against the floor sounded ominous.
Alexi breathed quietly; either Jessica would believe that he hadn’t touched Heather or she wouldn’t. His pride kept him from saying the same.
“Alexi…Heather,” Jessica said, and Alexi felt the chill rise up his nape.
“Heather was just leaving,” he stated quickly, moving in to defend himself.
Jessica’s smile didn’t go to her eyes. “Your cousin, Mikhail, informed Heather that you might be at home. She came to visit you there. Too bad you were here and she had to walk all the way back to her car and then drive here.”
Alexi groaned silently. Jessica was just getting warmed up. Mikhail would have to pay for sending Heather to the house and not to Alexi first. Jessica might never have known that his ex-fiancée had visited—and exited his life forever.
Heather flashed the diamond ring in front of Jessica. “How does it feel to come in second best?”
“You mean, Alexi?”
“Whatever.”
Alexi inhaled sharply, uncertain of Jessica in this dangerous mood—but he knew that he had to head off trouble between the women. Heather knew how to ruin lives; she knew how to invent situations and tell lies.
Jessica glanced at Alexi and ordered pleasantly, “Stay out of this. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”
The tough businesswoman was back and, despite the signs of danger, Alexi had to admire Jessica. He swept out a have-at-it hand, and she nodded.
“You need your butt kicked, Heather,” Jessica said too pleasantly. “You hurt Alexi badly.”
Heather’s smile didn’t reach those cold, sharklike eyes. “You don’t have what it takes to keep a man like Alexi satisfied, little miss housewife.”
“Heather, watch it,” Alexi warned. He was too familiar with Jessica’s green eyes narrowing, with the temper behind them.
“You stay out of this.”
Jessica spread her hands wide on the smoothly polished bar and looked at them. Then her eyes met Alexi’s before moving to lock with Heather’s. “Here’s how I see it. You’re starting to wear around the edges a bit, those little fine lines that a model can’t afford. Or a status wife who gets replaced with a newer model. You probably made a killing on the divorce. But it’s a hard, cruel world out there and now you want someone to take care of you—Alexi is good at that, isn’t he? Taking care of a woman, making her feel safe? Supporting her when she’s feeling down and out?”
“I need him,” Heather admitted unevenly, with a ring of truth. A woman desperate for help and admitting defeat, Heather’s eyes pleaded with Jessica. “I’m not used to handling my own—I lost most of what I got in the divorce. There’s a monthly allowance—but Alexi always knew what to do when I needed him. I need him to tell me what to do now.”
Though Heather’s unexpected truths startled Alexi, Jessica didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve got a lot of resources you haven’t tapped. And you’re ready to get out there on your own—without following a man’s orders. Listen, I’ve been remodeling the house with Alexi and I can tell you, he isn’t always right. Not a clue sometimes. You know how to relate to the camera, Heather. You could teach that skill to other models or speakers doing television spots. There’s a whole thing about clothing and makeup when doing interviews, isn’t there? You could run your own company.”
Heather’s understandable fear of unwanted wrinkles quickly cleared her frown. “You’re right. Alexi doesn’t have a clue sometimes. Neither do the other men I’ve depended on. Sure, I’m pretty and smart, but no one sees just how intelligent I am. Gorgeous can’t last forever, you know. My class and brains will go a long way. I know a photographer who is always grousing about the models not relating to the camera, about not being able to open up. I was like that. I had a friend hold a camera on me night and day and I studied angles and got more comfortable—”
“See? It took brains to think of something like that.” Jessica leveled a don’t-interfere look at Alexi who was frowning at the “he isn’t always right” and “not a clue” comments.
This time when Heather’s eyes lit, it wasn’t with anger. It was with hope. “I think I just might be able to pull off some sort of tutoring or school. Alexi, you should have told me that sooner.”
“He probably had his mind on other things, like setting up a house for you, the marriage picture and babies and all that.” Jessica shrugged and Alexi caught her “I’m winning this one” smirk before she said, “You know how men are.”
“Yeah. Right. Men,” Heather said as she tugged on her coat. “They’re always thinking of themselves. I’m out of here. I’m selling the ring, Alexi.”
Stunned at the unexpected sisterly interaction of the women, Alexi gave his go-for-it hand gesture; locked on her dream, Heather hurried out of the tavern. He studied Jessica, who w
as leaning back on the bar, braced by her elbows. He tugged her hair lightly. “I love it when you smirk.”
“Uh-huh. You were desperate. You should have seen your face when I walked in. A real picture of a guilty man caught in the act.”
“I was trying to get rid of her. She wasn’t buying, and Heather can be real trouble when she’s mad—she flies right past reason and dives into revenge. There are people around here that I don’t want hurt. Shanghaiing a male troublemaker like Lars Anders is a bit different from a woman who can cry all sorts of things…. So you were protecting me. Fighting for my honor?”
“Something like that. Mikhail and Ellie picked up the children and he left this—I just thought you might want to share…or something.” Jessica pushed free of the bar and, with slow, swaying hips, walked to the door. She locked it securely, flipped the Closed sign and picked up the Amoteh’s wine and food basket. She walked to the stairs leading up to the tavern’s second floor.
“Tell me you’re not jealous,” he said, testing her, enjoying pushing her just that bit to cause her to ignite—because she did so beautifully.
Jessica stopped and ordered huskily, “You owe me, Alexi. Pay up.”
This time, the knowing smirk was his as he followed her swaying hips up the stairs.
“You just yelled,” Alexi said briskly as they stood in the kitchen. “All I said was to hold the head of the ceiling fan steady while I adjusted the supports for it in the attic.”
“And I said I was doing just that. I had to yell. You were in the attic at the time and you’d just yelled down at me. How could you hear me over your yelling, if I didn’t yell?” Jessica forced the words down to a too-quiet tone. “You are the most irritating person on the earth. I do not know why—yes, I do. I am determined not to let you get the best of me…. Do you hear me, Alexi?”
Concentrating on his work, Alexi took one of the fan’s paddles from the box and rose on the step stool to attach it to the installed motorized head. “Hand me another.”
Jessica grabbed one and slapped it into his waiting hand. “Back to what we were talking about before you escaped up the ladder to the attic. I get the feeling that every time you do not want to discuss money, you find someplace to hide, like in the crawl space working on plumbing. If you want the tavern, there is no reason why you can’t borrow money from me—temporarily. You’re just being stubborn. Or if not me, then borrow from one of your family.”
He held out his hand for another paddle. “You just don’t give up, do you? Go turn on the electricity—the right switch this time.”
She didn’t like the reminder that she had almost killed her lover. When Jessica came back into the room, she was prepared to argue her case. “It’s mid-March, Alexi. Only a few days ago your friend, Miss Pell, came to see you. Tourist season is coming, and if you had ownership now, you could make those changes you wanted, like making that upper room suitable for an apartment.”
He watched the fan’s blades circle slowly, then stepped up on the ladder again. “Hand me the lightbulbs. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to live in that apartment.”
“But the view is gorgeous. The sunsets over the ocean—”
“It is. Perfect for an office. I don’t want a home office—work interfering with life.”
“I’m managing both right now. Multitasking is a part of business, Alexi.”
“But you’re temporary, aren’t you? You’re taking an ‘extended vacation,’ aren’t you?” Alexi screwed in the lightbulb she handed him. “I made a down payment to Barney last week. He’s going to stay on until this house is livable. Open the box that Fadey brought this morning. It’s for you.”
Jessica studied the slowly rotating blades, her thoughts circling her, as well. She loved every inch of the old house that had seemed to come to life. With the help of the Stepanovs, Alexi and she had almost finished the construction basics in the house. Every job, from drywall to painting and finishing the oak baseboards, had been an exciting adventure—and they’d made love on the new flooring, in the new bedroom—in that big sturdy Stepanov bed—and in the sleeping bag out on the deck….
She couldn’t put off life forever, and Howard’s frustration and anger was rising. James Thomas’s daily communications omitted Howard—which probably meant that a critical situation was brewing. She would have to eventually deal with Howard. To give the necessary appearance of a return to business, she’d made known her tentative plans to return to the office at the end of March—only two weeks away.
Each day was sweeter and more frightening.
Alexi wasn’t the kind of man to let another threaten her; he would take action and that could endanger him. She had to protect Alexi and Sterling Stops, yet keep Howard pacified.
How could she ever leave this beautiful old house, even for a short time? She’d grown to love it so, and the whole Stepanov family, and the babies, Katerina and month-and-a-half-old Sasha. Then there was Mary Jo—almost a mother—the sisterhood of the younger women…. They’d wrapped her in a blanket of love, until she’d almost forgotten the harsh realities of her life.
Was she so wrong to leave her own family years ago, to make a life for herself away from the grasping tentacles that could destroy her?
Distracted by the decisions she needed to make, Jessica pulled her gaze away from the almost-hypnotic movement of the fan’s blades.
She found Alexi’s startling blue eyes watching her.
“Where were you just now?” he asked quietly as he smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek back into the bandanna covering her head.
The decisions she had to make were hers alone. She couldn’t involve Alexi. “That fan style doesn’t suit the clean, modern lines of the kitchen.”
She looked at an unopened box sitting in the living space. “I can’t open that box. It’s from your father, mailed to Fadey. Why didn’t you tell me about the tavern? And I don’t think I like that ceiling fan’s style in this room. We should put this one in the bedroom and get one that doesn’t have bulbs for the kitchen. What? You made a down payment on the tavern?”
“That took a while to register, didn’t it? I have already moved the fan once because you didn’t like it in the sunroom. Not again. You looked shocked. I wasn’t exactly stripped when I sold the ranch. I knew enough to put some in reserve. I have money and I just sold a few investments, Jessica. And what I don’t have, I’ll earn. I like remodeling and building, feeling a structure take life in my hands, and I can do both. Danya doesn’t want to manage the ranch and it’s up for sale. My brother has said that he is looking at Amoteh, to be with family. Maybe he’ll want to go into business with me, either at the tavern or in building. Now open the box.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d moved ahead with the deal, something you wanted so much?”
“Ellie’s baby was coming. She was in false labor and then the real thing. You were in full swing, taking charge, bossing me around, shuttling your people in that new van, and at night you dropped into bed. I thought it could wait. You seemed so excited and happy, my little ramrod. And then you were tied up with business. Time just went by. It didn’t seem important.”
“It was very important. Here I was thinking of ways to get to you, to make you see reason, when you—I wasn’t too tired to—”
“Find me wherever I might be and make love? In the shower? On the floor in the kitchen?”
Jessica couldn’t explain her overpowering need to make love with Alexi—rather, she could and had surprised herself. Her biological need to create a family was running almost fever high—thanks to Ellie and Mikhail’s astounding love—the beauty of it had reached out to snare her. When Alexi had cradled newborn Sasha close to him, his expression tender, Jessica had known that he was meant to be a father.
Was it so bad to want everything? How could she possibly see herself fulfilled as a woman in love, who was loved, wanting what every other woman had wanted before her—
Except her mother. And Jessica deeply feared s
he would fail the commitment of a mother to a child, just as her mother had failed….
“You just looked at me with that look—and you were there—and Alexi, I am not going to be distracted from the current topic.”
“Then you admit—I can distract you. You love me and you want me. You need me.”
“Yes, all yeses. I admit everything. I’m guilty.” She shook her head and leaned back from the tug of Alexi’s hand on her braid. “You have money,” she repeated. “Here I have been worrying about you getting your dream, and you were—”
Alexi’s head went back, his eyes narrowing. Jessica had become familiar with that expression of pride and disdain of a male who did not want financial help from a woman, let alone his lover. “I am capable of handling my finances. Do you think that I would ask the woman I love and want to marry to support me? Open it.”
“Marriage? Love? Alexi, I—”
He sighed roughly and his words had the old-fashioned phrasing that said he was deeply touched. “I am emotional. Yes, I love you and I want to marry you. It just came out wrong. I’m sorry for that, but not that I want to marry you.”
Shaken by his admission and uncertain that she could give Alexi what he deserved, Jessica looked away from those brilliant blue eyes that saw so much.
Alexi tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly. “Open the box,” he whispered and lifted it to her.
Jessica placed the box on a table and opened it carefully, exposing a small patchwork quilt, beautifully embroidered with designs. She carefully lifted the edges aside and inside rested a large flat, obviously old, covered basket.
“My mother’s,” Alexi said, and eased the quilt and basket from the box. “She had just started this quilt when she passed. She asked me to give it to the woman I love. These are her needles and embroidery things.”
