by Cait London
Ellie wanted to run into the shadows and hide from what she already suspected was true. She’d lost a lifetime with her mother, and the years stood too firmly between them. She clutched the paper in her hand, shaking with emotions. “I’m leaving.”
“Try to forgive me, Ellie. Here…” Nora removed a locket from her throat and when Ellie didn’t move, she gave it to Mikhail. “That’s a picture of my parents, your grandparents and myself. I left it for you, but Paul sent it back.”
“Thank you, Nora,” Mikhail said as Ellie flew down the stairs.
She was shaking in the rental car when Mikhail arrived, easing into the car. When he opened his arms, she slid into them, her body shaking. “Do you believe her?”
Against her hair, his voice was deep. “Yes. But it is for you to decide.”
“Take me home, Mikhail.”
In their hotel room that night, Ellie didn’t eat, sitting quietly and watching the Boston city traffic snake beneath the window. She moved as Mikhail asked, allowing him to dress her for bed, to hold her in the night. During the cross-country flight, she stared at the clouds, her body in the seat next to his, but her mind far away.
At Amoteh that evening, he parked beside the cabin; Ellie had said she preferred it. Jarek arrived with dinner, and glanced at Ellie as she watched the ocean’s rolling waves. Mikhail shook his head and Jarek left silently.
“Do you want to talk?” Mikhail asked as he served dinner by candlelight.
Ellie pushed the food on her plate with her fork. “No.”
She’d gone within herself, keeping her pain from him. All he could do was to wait.
He wondered briefly if Kamakani’s curse still held, if he could lose her.
“I’d like to be alone,” Ellie said finally. “Do you mind?”
Did he mind? His heart was tearing apart, aching for her. “I understand. Here, this is yours,” he said as the locket and chain spilled onto the table, gleaming in the candlelight, a tiny tie between mother and daughter.
Her head bent as she spoke quietly. “You should know, Mikhail, that I don’t want children other than Tanya. That should disqualify me as wife material. You’re a man who should have a family.”
Another woman hadn’t wanted his children, and momentarily that pain ricocheted through Mikhail, then it swivelled into anger. “Stop playing the martyr. Have I asked you to do anything but marry me?”
Ellie’s gray eyes shot thunderbolts at him. “I’m not a martyr, and you didn’t ask.”
He smiled briefly at her lick of temper, the first emotion she’d shown since meeting Nora. “Then you will have to ask me. Good night.”
Outside the cabin, the sound of the waves slid against the night and Mikhail lifted his face to Strawberry Hill and Kamakani’s curse.
Had he lost Ellie? Had he pushed too far?
Ten
“Going somewhere?” Mikhail asked as he stepped out of the midnight shadows next to Ellie’s car. His deep voice held an ominous purr, as if he had been waiting for her.
The prickle of awareness that always caught her when Mikhail was near edged up her nape. Ragged with emotions and lack of sleep, Ellie had given up trying to wait until morning. She had to confront her father, to see his reaction to Nora’s claim. After four hours of pacing the cabin, she’d decided that nothing could keep her from Paul.
If Nora’s claim were true, then Ellie had lost a lifetime with a mother she’d thought deserted her…. And she had to know….
Mikhail towered over her, looking tough and foreign, his hair tossed by the salty wind, his jaw dark with stubble. He’d changed into jeans and black T-shirt beneath his brown leather jacket, his work boots scuffed and wide apart as if nothing could move him. Mikhail’s eyes gleamed as he looked down at her. Clouds slid by the moon, shifting shadows on his face, but not softening the harsh planes, the tight set of his lips, and the grooves beside them.
“How did you know that I’d be leaving tonight?”
His answer was too logical, too Mikhail. “You’re impetuous and you’re not one to wait.”
She clenched her fist so hard that the car’s keys bit into her palm. “I have to. You know I do. I have to see Paul. If Nora is right, then he’s—”
“He’s what he is—street tough, wrangling for power and money. Nora didn’t fit his plans. Or don’t you believe that?”
Ellie couldn’t rest until she knew—“I just want to face him, Mikhail.”
He smoothed her cheek with his fingertip. “You haven’t rested. This could wait until you’re—”
“Now, Mikhail. I have to know now. I’d rather be driving than awake and tossing in bed.”
He nodded, scanning the ocean’s black waves. “You could have called me.”
“I’ve got to do this by myself.”
His head went back, the tilt arrogant as he silently watched her. Then his hand shot out to capture her hair, lifting it away from her ear. “So you’re wearing them, then. Do you think of me?”
He was so much a part of her, her body tuned to his, feeling the tension riveting him in the moonlight. “You know that I do.”
His prowling finger slid down her cheek to her throat where the slender gold chain rested. He tapped the locket lightly. “You believe her?”
A ripple of pain shot through her; Paul was capable of separating a mother and child. “I don’t want to. I’ll know when I see his face.”
“Then take this with you,” Mikhail said roughly, and tugged her to him, his mouth hot and wild and promising—
He released her abruptly, and Ellie struggled for balance. Mikhail was frustrated, aching for her, and she—
She reached for his jacket with both hands and tugged. He didn’t move, then as if he moved at his own choosing, he stepped closer. “What?”
“You’re coming with me. I need you.”
“Do you?” Again the arrogance, a man whose pride had been nicked and needed salving.
“I want you to protect him. I’m not certain of what I might do.”
His head inclined slightly. “And you love him.”
She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his. “And you. I love you. But I’m so afraid. You should have that family, Mikhail.”
His expression softened and his lips returned her light kiss. “Can we not let the future take care of itself?”
The slight accent said Mikhail spoke his innermost feelings and she couldn’t help but love him more. “What if I’m the same as Paul, Mikhail? What if I have within me the potential to do what he’s done?”
He smiled and waggled her head as would a big brother, before opening the BMW’s door and easing her into it. “You don’t.”
In Paul Lathrop’s Seattle mansion, Mikhail leaned against the shadows of the office, his arms crossed as he watched Ellie battle with Paul. Magnificent in the predawn from the windows and the soft lamp lighting, and her anger, Ellie’s color was high, her eyes flashing, her body taut in a black sweater and jeans. She stalked across the office, her hair a storm as she moved, the tips catching the soft light.
It wasn’t in Mikhail’s nature to stand by while the woman he loved battled herself, the past and her father. And yet, he knew that Ellie would resent his interference.
That she would want to face Paul alone had hurt Mikhail.
That she needed him to be with her had eased that slight injury.
That she had grabbed him in the car before they entered the mansion and had kissed him desperately had made him go a little light-headed. “Hold me and tell me that you love me,” she’d demanded fiercely.
The impromptu make-out session in the front seat of his BMW left Mikhail’s body hard and humming and Ellie flushed and breathless. She had patted his cheek. “Thanks. I needed that. I can always count on you.”
He had groaned. “Yes. I am quite dependable. And I plan to finish what you just started.”
She’d smoothed back his hair that her fingers had rumpled and studied him critically. “I like sex wit
h you. Correction—I love sex with you. And I like that hungry sexy look you’re giving me now, because most of all you make me feel like a woman. But I also like other things. You’re a good friend, Mikhail. Thank you.”
“Are you going to pat me on the head, like everybody else does?” he had asked warily.
“It’s because you’re sweet and you deserve pats and hugs.”
He couldn’t help inviting, “You are most welcome to apply them in regions other than the top of my head.”
Despite her current mission, the drama of it, Ellie had laughed outright. It was delighted laughter, rich and full, and Mikhail wanted to hear more.
Watching her attack Paul now in the luxurious office, Mikhail smiled briefly. In effect, he was Ellie’s over two-hundred pound, six-foot-three good-luck piece. The idea pleased him; he realized he was smirking.
He shrugged mentally. As Ellie’s good-luck piece, he had a right to smirk happily, yet he stilled his expression. A street-savvy fighter, Paul was too sharp not to pick up nuances of weaknesses and to play them.
“Explain this.” Ellie slammed the paper Nora had given her onto Paul’s desk. He paled as he read it, tossing it onto his desk.
In his pajamas and robe, Paul looked old and tired, and behind him on the paneled walls was Tanya’s framed drawing. He looked at Mikhail in the shadows. “I’ve thought about this. You’d be an asset as a son-in-law. You can have her.”
“She makes up her own mind.”
“Do something, Mikhail. She’s out of control.”
“You’re on your own,” Mikhail answered coolly. Ellie had paid high prices for her father’s actions, and now she was battling her love for him.
Paul sighed tiredly, the lines and shadows of his once handsome face deepening. He took an antacid tablet from the large bottle on his desk and popped it into his mouth. “Do we have to do this now?”
“Why would you do such a thing? Why did you lie to me?” Ellie demanded rawly, standing in front of his desk, her arms crossed.
Paul studied her and looked past her to Mikhail. “You two are a pair, fighters and bulldogs, the both of you. She’s got more flash though. You just make certain you make your point. I should have seen it earlier.”
Ellie’s open hand hit the desk. “I want to know why you would do such a thing.”
Paul seemed to shrink within his satin robe. “I loved Nora. But I needed—she didn’t fit what I thought I needed. I was going up in the business and she couldn’t cope with what I expected of her. It wasn’t the first mistake, or the last, I made. But I couldn’t go back and undo it. There was no point.”
“Wasn’t there?” Ellie asked fiercely. “What about me? Didn’t I have the right to know the truth?”
He sighed tiredly and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. “You look like her, and you were a part of her. I didn’t want her to take you away from me.”
“You lied to me. You said she didn’t want me. Do you know how that affected my life? What about Hillary? Is that what you did with her mother, too?”
“No. Hillary’s mother knew I still loved Nora, and she really did not want her child. It was easy to buy her off—if only…” Paul’s eyes opened slowly as if weighted by years. “I was raised on the street, Ellie, dog eat dog. It was wrong, but I didn’t change when it came to Nora. I found a woman who resembled her, and who was what I needed. In my way, I hoped Nora would go on and find someone better. But I couldn’t let you go. I did what I had to do to keep you.”
Ellie’s voice vibrated quietly in the expensive furnishings. “You are not getting Tanya, and neither is Hillary. If you even think about coming close to Tanya, I will spread this story all over the papers and shed enough light on your deals to make you a business liability.”
Paul was silent, staring at her, as if haunted by another woman. “Tanya looks like Nora, too—what an ironic coincidence.”
Mikhail came to stand beside Ellie, watching her expressions war between love of her father and what he had done. Mikhail placed his hand on Ellie’s back, felt the taut muscles there, the quivering anger in her body for all the years she’d missed with Nora. “Shall we go? It’s enough for now?” he asked, anxious for her.
“It’s not enough,” she stated firmly, bitterly.
“For now,” he pressed, aching for her. “You can’t unravel the past within minutes.”
“I just have.”
She turned and walked out of Paul’s office, not stopping until she was in the car. When Mikhail entered and revved the smooth engine, Ellie sat rigidly in the shadows. “He wants to give me to you to make a business deal. How typical.”
As Mikhail drove, Ellie said, “I was proud of you. I really was. I expected you to charge in and try to fix everything. Then I would have had to handle the both of you.”
“But you did that nicely by yourself. I wasn’t needed.”
She took his hand and brought it to her lips. “Oh, you were needed, all right. Very much needed.”
In the aftermath of her struggle, Ellie began to drowse and then sleep, her head on his shoulder. But she never released his hand.
June sunlight spilled into the cabin as Ellie settled into sewing the new cotton sundress for Tanya. The old machine hummed smoothly, the material gliding beneath the needle.
This was Ellie’s special place—intimate, small and filled with love. A place to think and resolve, to put the past behind her.
Adjusting to her new life took thought. Paul and Hillary would have to resolve their own lives and mistakes.
Paul had been silent, and with quiet pain, Ellie placed the little sister she had loved inside her heart—apart from the bitter, hurting selfish woman Hillary had become. Ellie had set firm rules with Hillary, keeping her at a distance. The separation of an older protective sister from a younger one wasn’t easy; it hurt. But Hillary’s decisions were her own, and when it was time, Ellie would tell Tanya of her biological mother and the choices the sisters had both made.
Mikhail’s family had surrounded Ellie and Tanya with selfless love and understanding. Mary Jo held Ellie as she cried, understanding as only a woman could do as another moved through the passages of life and decision. Tanya moved easily between Mary Jo and Leigh and Bliss, thoroughly happy and carefree with the feminine blend, and obviously spoiled by the males—Fadey’s “little princess.” The Stepanovs’ plain, honest talk, passions and hugs, the friendly taunts between brothers, the impromptu macho contests and Mary Jo’s house rules for not breaking the furniture wrapped Ellie in a warm, beautiful life.
Fadey obviously delighted in Tanya and Katerina, showing them equal love. More than once, Mary Jo had hushed Fadey’s wedding plans for Mikhail and Ellie. But Fadey’s big bear hugs and grins said he couldn’t wait long.
Mikhail waited, too. He’d never again mentioned marriage, but the question was in his sea-green eyes and in his silence at times.
Ellie felt tears burn her eyes and left her sewing to stand, looking at the letters from Nora—ones she had returned as mother and daughter gently grew to know each other.
The cabin was quiet, shadowed by Mikhail’s love, and the new life before them. Understanding Ellie’s need for privacy as she bridged her past and her future, the Stepanovs often kept Tanya—delighting in her—while Ellie came to the cabin with its spoon wind chimes and the sound of the endless waves.
The door between their suites was no longer closed. The rooms were a small home littered with Tanya’s dolls and toys, a place for Ellie’s sewing where Mikhail would sit nearby.
But in this cabin, Mikhail and Ellie made love in the soft nights, and she’d changed as a woman, with a woman’s needs to make a home and to carry Mikhail’s child.
Ellie’s fingertip smoothed Nora’s round script. Mother to daughter. Daughter to mother, ties as endless as the waves sliding onto the shore.
But there were other shadows in the past that Ellie wanted to remove.
If Kamakani’s legendary curse was true, she’d d
ance before his grave, because she knew her heart, and her love for Mikhail. If there was a chance she could protect him from the painful past, she would….
He’d built the Amoteh, and if Paul forced him to, Mikhail would destroy it and build another competing resort. But that wasn’t likely. Paul had called several times in the past month, carefully wedging questions about Ellie and Tanya’s well-being into business. Those questions left no doubt in Mikhail that Paul was considering changing, to try to build some ties between his daughters and granddaughter—if he could. That was up to him.
In his office, Mikhail looked out the window and thought of Ellie, slowly sorting her past and coming to know Nora. It was a hard journey, the edges troubling; but Ellie was strong—strong enough to distance herself from Hillary and Paul. Mikhail could only try to understand, and to wait—not an easy task for a man in love.
Mikhail frowned as he noted Ellie’s mini-station wagon winding up the highway.
She never drove away from Amoteh—unless…
A half hour later, he found her car parked near the trail leading up to Kamakani’s grave. He made his way slowly up the path, realizing that women made their own passages and a man shouldn’t interfere. He could only wait and love….
Mikhail paused on the edge of the forest, watching Ellie as she slowly undressed, dropping her clothing to a blanket.
There in front of Kamakani’s grave, she stood tall, her arms raised to the sun, her body swaying, her feet moving gently over the lush grass.
It was an ancient dance, Mikhail knew, one that came from a woman’s heart. Amid the silky swirl of her hair, the earrings he had given her caught the sun, sending out shards of gold.
And then Ellie turned to him, her body pale against the green trees. Her eyes were huge and solemn, holding a woman’s wisdom and mystery. Her breasts were full and ripe and he’d known the pleasure of their soft weight, the taste. He’d known the curve of her waist, the jut of her bones, gentle flaring of her hips, the intimacy between her thighs, and the strength of her legs and arms.
