Staking His Claim

by Tessa Radley

Crossing to where she sat, he handed her a glass, then settled down beside her.

  Ella felt her pulse pick up. Partly due to anxiety, she knew, because of the discussion to come about Holly’s new family. But there was more to it. Sadness—obviously—because the time with Holly was drawing to an end. And beneath that was another layer: the unsettling edginess that Yevgeny always aroused in her.

  She focused on that layer of restlessness. When she’d first met Yevgeny, she’d have identified this feeling as...animosity. Now it had metamorphosized into something else. Still unsettling—but far from unpleasant.

  There was excitement...anticipation...and a hint of apprehension, too.

  Ella took a small sip of the bubbly liquid then set it down on the highly reflective glass side table. Mistake. Without the drink to focus on, all her awareness centered on Yevgeny.

  Her skin prickled and shivers spread through her.

  Oh, God.

  She shut her eyes.

  The music danced along her senses. Sweet. Pleasurable. Ella tried to focus only on that.

  It didn’t work...because listening to the music led to thoughts of the ballet earlier...which led her to think about the man who had invited her.

  Opening her eyes, she found herself impaled by Yevgeny’s startling stare. Her heart stopped, then resumed with a jolt.

  The silence between them had swelled to an expectant readiness.

  When Yevgeny reached forward and cupped her face with one hand, her lashes feathered down and Ella sighed softly.

  * * *

  To Yevgeny’s astonishment, the hand that cupped Ella’s cheek was shaking.

  White-hot emotions chased through him. Emotions so intense, so charged, he did not know what they signaled.

  All he knew was that it seemed right to kiss Ella.

  With great care he removed her glasses and set them down on the table beside them. Then, moving slowly, he leaned forward. His lips closed over hers. He tasted her gasp, and deepened the kiss. Ella gave a husky, raw moan and relaxed back on the sofa.

  Desire burned him.

  His heart thundered in his ears as he shifted his body across hers on the black leather and slanted his head to seal their mouths together. Beneath him Ella was soft, incredibly feminine. Still cupping her head, he feasted on the lushness of her mouth, devouring her. He could feel her heart thudding against his chest, and he knew she felt the intensity of this as much as he did.

  Ending the kiss, he slid his lips down along the skin of her neck, tracing the V neckline of the sexy dress with open-mouthed caresses until he stopped at the hollow between her breasts. He nuzzled at the lilac-scented valley.

  Under him, Ella shivered.

  And Yevgeny reacted.

  His thigh sank between hers, causing her dress to ruche up.

  The temptation was too much. He ran one hand along the soft skin of her inner thigh until he found the lace edge of her panties. He eased his fingers beneath the lace. Lifting his head, he watched her as his fingers roamed closer...closer.

  Ella was breathing quickly now, in soft, shallow gasps.

  He touched her.

  She was slick and already wet. Her back arched off the leather, and her eyes closed tight.

  It was his turn to moan.

  Withdrawing his hand, Yevgeny shifted off the sofa, so that he kneeled beside her.

  “Why are you stopping?” she whispered, her eyes still tightly shut.

  “You want me to carry on?”

  Gold eyes glinted at him through dark lashes. “Yes!”

  Sliding his arms beneath her, he hoisted her up and rose to his feet in one smooth move.

  Ella grabbed at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you someplace more comfortable,” he murmured. Then he bent his head and licked her ear, his tongue exploring the spiral shape. The moan that broke from her this time sounded wild.

  In the softly lit bedroom, he let her slide down his body and as soon as her feet found the carpeted floor, he unzipped her dress. He drew her out of the dress and lifted her onto the bed.

  He tore off his shirt and trousers in record time. A moment later, clad only in underpants, he joined her on the bed.

  Ella was wearing only wisps of black lace.

  Against the red satin of his bedcover, with her blond hair and pale skin, and the skimpy bits of black lace, she looked provocatively sensual.

  The low-cut cups of her wicked bra revealed curves he hadn’t known she possessed. Until now.

  He touched the indent of her waist, and traced the flaring outline of her hip. His hand rested on the rounded flesh of her bottom, then he stroked up along the groove of her spine. Her skin was like silk. Just touching her aroused him.

  “You are lovely.”

  For a moment uncertainty glittered in her eyes. “Hardly a supermodel. You’ve dated—”

  “Hush.” He placed his index finger on her lips to silence her. “Now there is only you. No one else.”

  It stunned him how right speaking those words felt.

  Only Ella?

  But he wasn’t ready to consider why it felt so right. Not yet. And not now.

  He stroked her stomach where only a few weeks ago a baby had rested. The emotions that flooded him were too complex to name.

  All he knew was that somewhere in that cocktail was gratitude. He sank his head down and kissed her belly, paying homage to her fertility and femininity.

  Then, slipping a hand under her, he unclipped her bra with a deft flick and brushed the lace aside.

  His breath caught.

  Ella’s breasts were full and high. The dark nipples stood proud. He touched them with reverent fingers. “Are they tender?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  His index finger traced a light blue vein beneath the taut, pale skin. This was life. This was the very essence of womanhood—and Ella’s nurturing of Holly.

  Her hands were on him now, stroking up his chest, along the apex of his shoulders and down his arms with soft, feathery caresses.

  Immediately he became aware of his body’s response to her touch. He was hard and quivering. Ella placed a hand on either side of his hips and pushed his underpants down his legs.

  As the full aroused length of him was revealed, he heard her breath catch.

  He flung his head back.

  Her fingers were sure and clever. She touched him in ways that drove him to the end of madness...then summoned him back.

  When he could take no more, he fell back on the bed and pulled her with him, the satin smooth against his skin. Pushing off the last remaining bit of lace, he gently eased two trembling fingers into her slick warmth. Her flesh stretched around him. He moved his fingers, fluttering them, seeking the hard nub that made her breath stop.

  When her breathing was ragged, her eyes wild, he shifted over her. With great care, he sank into her, then withdrew. Entered again. And pulled away.

  Her arms came round his back, and her fingers dug into his buttocks. “Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Stay with me.”

  “Show me what you want,” he demanded as passion ripped his heart apart.

  Ella didn’t hesitate. Within minutes she’d torn any control he’d had to shreds. He felt himself going...going...

  As Ella’s body clenched around him, he felt the first shudder. She arched beneath him, bucking and twisting, and he could no longer hold on as pleasure flooded them both in a torrent of sensation.

  * * *

  “Will you marry me?”

  Whatever Ella had expected him to say on opening her eyes this morning, it was not this.

  Her mouth dropped open. “M-marry you?”

  His face filled her vision as Yevgeny nodded slowly.

>   She rolled away from him and dropped her legs out over the edge of the bed. Her naked back to him, she pressed the scarlet cover over her bare breasts and scanned the floor frantically for some sort of clothing.

  “This proposal is a bit sudden.”

  Was this the point of the invitation to the ballet...and the romantic restaurant dinner he’d planned afterward? Had the whole evening been nothing but a staged seduction to get her to do what he wanted?

  Except a date to the ballet followed by dinner need not have ended up in bed. She’d been the one to veto dinner. In all fairness to Yevgeny, he’d only invited her to his penthouse at her prompting. Ella shook her head to clear the confusion and struggled to focus.

  Why had he asked her to marry him?

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer. But she sensed a distance between them that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  The idyll had been shattered.

  It had been such a beautiful night.... Ella had felt transported. From the moment the ballet had begun the magic had wound itself around her. As though she’d entered a hidden, undiscovered world of possibilities she’d never imagined. As for the night that had followed...

  Not once but twice he’d made love to her.

  The beauty of it had called to her. That feeling of exploring an intimate link she’d never dared dream existed. A moment of pure, blistering ecstasy. Then freedom. She’d encountered a facet of herself that she had never known—a facet that fitted perfectly, in fairy-tale fashion with—

  She shook her head again, her hair whipping around her face.

  There was no such thing as fairy tales—she of all people should know that.

  Behind her he spoke in a low voice that breached all the barriers she was rebuilding. “Come back to bed.”

  Oh, she was tempted. To give in, to give up all her tightly held defenses and surrender to pleasure.

  To the vision he offered.

  “Say yes, Ella. Come lie with me again. Make love. We have time.”

  That seductive purr...

  Then reality snapped in.

  He had time. She didn’t.

  She was supposed to be meeting Jo Wells and the family who hoped to adopt Holly in—she squinted at the clock beside the bed struggling to make out the numbers without her glasses—an hour. And all she had to wear was a skimpy black cocktail dress, which she couldn’t even find.

  She would also have to explain to the night nurse and to Deb—who would be arriving at her town house by now—why she hadn’t come home last night. The round-the-clock care she’d hired for Holly would mean the baby was fine.

  But she wasn’t.

  Ella fought the urge to bury her head in her hands and burst into uncharacteristic tears as shame swamped her.

  She’d almost fallen for it— This request to marry her could be nothing more than another ploy to get Holly.

  This was not about intimate connections. Or profound pleasure. Or even about any feeling for her. This was about Yevgeny getting what he wanted in any way possible.

  She’d do well to remember that.

  Still clutching the covers to her chest, she leaned forward and scanned the carpet. Finally she caught sight of a puddle of black. Her dress. Her bra and briefs were nowhere to be seen. Ella had a distant memory of Yevgeny taking off her glasses last night; she’d have to retrieve them from the living room in order to locate her underwear.

  For now she snagged the black dress with the tips of her fingers. In a smooth movement she pulled it over her head and shimmied it over her torso. It seemed absurd to protect her modesty now, but she no longer wanted to be naked in front of Yevgeny. Not until she’d worked out his motives.

  Turning her head, she looked at him, fully looked at him, and her heart contracted.

  He reclined against the pillows, the sun slanting through the window revealed his lips curved up in a sensual smile, while lazy appreciation still lingered in those glittering wolf eyes.

  Lust bolted through her.

  She wanted him.

  Again.

  Even though she suspected his motives.

  How could she still desire him?

  What kind of black magic had he unleashed on her? How had he managed to reduce her to...this? Never had anything interfered with her ability to think...to reason clearly...until now. He had her tied up in knots.

  And no doubt he knew it.

  It had been his plan.

  Suspicion cooled her ardor like a bucket of icy water.

  “No.”

  “No?” He raised a dark brow. “You don’t want to stay?”

  She flushed. “No—I can’t marry you.”

  * * *

  Ella emerged from the master bathroom, her purse under her arm. The transformation from siren to icicle was complete. Her makeup was perfect—and no doubt her underwear was back in place, too.

  Instead of looking at him where he lounged in the big bed, she pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced down at her watch. “It’s late—I have to go.”

  “Work. I suppose.” Yevgeny resisted the urge to roll his eyes skyward.

  “My work is important to me.” Her voice cooled. Finally she looked at him. “But this time it’s about Holly.”

  He started to pay attention. “Holly?”

  Ella was fiddling with pulling the neckline of the black dress straight. He bit back the urge to tell her it was fine. “I intended to tell you about it last night. But I got...distracted.” Her chin lifted a notch, signaling that he wouldn’t like what was about to follow.

  “Yes?”

  “Jo Wells found a couple she thinks will be a perfect fit to adopt Holly.”

  Yevgeny stiffened at that revelation. “I’m the perfect fit to adopt Holly,” he said unequivocally.

  “I saw their profile yesterday. They offer everything I asked for.” Ella swept her hair back behind her ear. “I’m meeting them this morning—” She broke off and glanced at her watch again. “In an hour.”

  Her stubbornness infuriated him. Fixing his gaze on her, he said softly, “I am absolutely committed to adopting Holly.”

  “It won’t work. We’ve been through this before.” She was talking so fast he didn’t even try to get a word in. “You’re a billionaire playboy. What do you want with a baby? You haven’t thought this through. What will you do with a growing girl? How will you provide the mothering model she requires? What do you know about the needs of teenage girls? This feeling of responsibility will pass.”

  “I will learn. Whatever Holly needs I will provide,” he said fiercely. “Whoever adopts her will also have to develop and learn about the needs she has—no one is a perfect parent from the start.” He paused for an instant. “Parenting is about committing to learn about the needs of children.” Something his own selfish mother had never made any effort to do.

  But Ella was already turning away. “I’ve got to get to this appointment—and I need to stop by my town house to collect some suitable clothes first.”

  He could not risk Ella allowing a couple to get their hopes up about adopting Holly—he was taking Holly. Nor could he take the chance that Ella would get it into her head to sign the consent to adoption. Twelve days had passed. She could do it now.

  “Then I will have to come with you.”

  She swung around, her face tight and closed—a world away from the woman who had responded so passionately to him last night...all through the night. A tight band settled around his chest.

  “I don’t want you to come. This is going to be hard enough without you there making it more difficult for me.”

  Yevgeny got out of the bed. Ella recoiled. Impatiently he reached for a pair of jeans slung over the blanket box at the end of the bed and dragged them on. Buttoning the fl
y, he said, “My intention is not to make it more difficult—but to make it easier—”

  “You’re not doing that!”

  “Ella, you should consider my proposal—”

  “No!” She warded off his reaching hands. “No. No. No. I’m not marrying you!”

  He wished she would stop interrupting him, stop rejecting him and stop pushing him away. She was making it so much more difficult...for both of them.

  “Ella. Listen to me. I am Holly’s father.”

  Eleven

  “What?”

  Ella’s eyes stretched wide with shock. Finally, anger set in.

  “What kind of stunt is this?” He’d tried persuasion, coercion—

  all with no luck. So last night he’d taken her to bed and, while she still basked in the warm, golden glow of his lovemaking, he’d asked her to marry him. Now this. Ella marched toward the bedroom door. “I don’t believe you.”

  His hand closed around her arm.

  “Wait!”

  Fury broke over her. She yanked her arm loose.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “This is no stunt. I am Holly’s biological father...I donated the sperm.”

  Frantically Ella searched his face, seeking something—anything—that would prove his claim a lie. Instead, she saw only calm, unwavering certainty.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  Holly’s father. Not her uncle...

  The dizzying discovery changed everything. And explained so much.

  Like exactly why he’d slept with her last night. And why he’d asked her to marry him...and why he just refused to give up in his pursuit to adopt Holly.

  A heavy weight sank over Ella, until it settled deep in her belly. He wanted Holly so badly—because she was his daughter.

  The queasy feeling in Ella’s stomach grew. Churned. Nausea rolled over her in turbulent, battering waves.

  Vivid images flashed through her mind. Yevgeny demanding to know where the baby was that first day in the hospital. Yevgeny bending over Holly’s cot, entranced. Yevgeny producing Nadiya as his fiancée so Holly would have the mother Ella demanded. Yevgeny’s fury whenever she’d tried to roadblock his efforts. And the picture that hurt most of all? Yevgeny kissing her...loving her...to get want he most wanted....