by Paula Roe
“My earrings!” Yelena said suddenly. Then to Alex, “Can you hold Bella?” and just like that, the baby was suddenly in his arms.
God, she was so tiny! He blinked, awkwardly clutching her to his chest like an oddly shaped piece of delicate china. Bella gurgled and gnawed on one fist, a thin line of drool slowly dripping from her mouth.
He shifted her minuscule, yellow-jumpsuited weight and studied her with a frown. Large, brown puppy-dog eyes fringed with thick lashes stared up from a round, cherubic face. Abundant, curly dark hair capped her head, her tiny mouth stretching into a wide grin, still full of baby fist and drool.
She was a miniature version of Yelena.
Something fluttered inside, making his breath catch, prompting a darker frown. Yet when Bella kept grinning at him and two tiny dimples appeared on the baby’s cheeks, his heart skipped a beat.
The sight that greeted Yelena’s return stopped her in her tracks, stuttering her breath. Alex cradled a tiny gurgling Bella in his powerful arms. And they were grinning at each other.
Oh, my Lord. The perfect picture sent a slice of yearning into her very soul, her heartbeat engulfing her heavy swallow. She blinked. What am I supposed to do with that? “Alex?”
When his eyes swung to hers she nearly crumpled at the dazed expression there. A mixture of awe, delight…and something else, something she recognized but did not want to name because then she’d have to acknowledge it. And worse, deal with it.
Longing. Her conscience overrode common sense at the worst possible moment.
She dropped eye contact and reached for Bella. “Pam and Chelsea are waiting. Shall we go?”
But when he remained still, staring at her with Bella still in his arms, a spurt of panic erupted.
“Alex?” Yelena said softly.
Inscrutable eyes studied her, as if he wanted nothing more than to crawl into her mind and read her thoughts. She returned his gaze steadily, unblinkingly, even as her whole body inwardly trembled.
“She could have been ours.”
No bitterness, no accusation. Yet the pure simplicity of his statement made every cell in her body weep.
Anguish threatened her composure: ruthlessly she choked it down. “I know.”
He sighed, severing the moment as he firmly handed Bella over. “Let’s go.”
For a week, construction on two marquees had been underway, and now the results of everyone’s hard work was clearly visible. Inside the main entrance, fake trees sparkled with tiny lights and a canopy of dark blue silk dotted with tiny diamantés gave a starry effect. A small pond and miniature waterfall had been built and, surrounding it sat massive toadstools with assorted fake bugs and critters as big as cats. Children squealed and shrieked and adults gasped as they discovered replicas of popular Aboriginal folklore creatures scattered amongst the scenes—a platypus in the pond, an emu grazing behind a tree. Koalas hid in the branches and kangaroos grazed lazily on the long painted scrub.
The back of this scene opened up to a huge, carpeted area, where long trestle tables were laden with a veritable feast, the local cuisine mixed in with Diamond Bay’s offerings. Chelsea had dubbed this area the ‘party tent,’ where a bunch of local bands were setting up their equipment.
As Yelena watched the flow of guests arrive, she realized most of the small but fiercely strong community had turned up.
Which hopefully meant it was going to be a roaring success.
To her right, at the back of the marquee, her daughter commanded the attention of a handful of women. She chuckled, watching the way Chelsea kept on touching Bella’s hand, how Pam gently patted her back. A baby had an amazing ability to bring out women’s mothering instincts.
Most, that is, except Maria Valero’s.
She blinked, burying that thought away. Now was not the time to dwell on things she couldn’t change.
She glanced over at two reporters filming their segment intros. The press was here; the guests were arriving. With a smile she watched a bunch of excited Aboriginal children run full tilt through the marquee, laughing as their squeals of delight filtered outside.
“Looks like it’s going to be a hit.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin as Alex’s seductive breath washed over her shoulder.
She swiveled to meet his eyes. “You doubted my skills?”
His smile spread slowly, creasing his eyes in mischievous glee. “Not in the least.”
As they exchanged a silent look she sensed a ground shift. As if something had changed in some deep, profound way.
“We’re talking about the party, right?” she said slowly, her eyes flitting back towards the arriving throng.
“Of course.”
She avoided his gaze, nervously pressing one hand to her abdomen before flicking a long curl over her shoulder. It obviously proved too much of a temptation because Alex retrieved it, twirling it around his finger in deep concentration.
The look in his bright blue eyes made her knees buckle. “You’d…” She swallowed and tried again. “You’d better go and attend to your guests.”
His mouth spread into a grin. Then to her astonishment he took her hand, kissed it and bowed low like a gallant courtier. “Of course. I’ll be back.”
Yelena watched him go, smiling as guests continued to arrive. Pam mingled with natural ease, talking to employees and their families, local business owners, even Yelena’s contacts from Sydney and Canberra.
She spotted Chelsea shyly chatting to the waiter who had caught her eye a few days ago and her smile widened.
Then a broad figure cut through the crowd and that smile froze in place.
“Carlos!”
From his vantage point across the room, Alex watched his enemy greet Yelena with a smile and a hug. Yelena’s obvious joy at her brother’s presence sliced Alex’s insides. But his veins iced over when he caught Carlos’s complacent smirk, a look that said he knew and fully accepted his sister’s worship as his God-given right.
Yelena’s eyes sought his, yet he met her curiosity with a raised eyebrow and a shrug. The grateful smile she shot him dug in the knife just a little more.
She won’t thank you after tonight.
Swallowing that bitter pill, he grimly reconnoitered and moved forward.
“What are you doing here?”
He heard Yelena’s happy exclamation then saw her brother’s mouth curve. Yet those dark eyes remained wide and alert. “Is that any way to talk to one of your guests, cigüeñita?”
Her smile faltered. The nickname “little stork” had annoyed her ever since tenth grade, but her irritation only amused Carlos.
“I got an invite in the mail. I would’ve expected at least a phone call,” Carlos said casually as she grabbed him a drink from a passing waiter. The gentle yet obvious rebuke wrinkled Yelena’s brow.
He took a gulp of his drink, gagged then choked it down. “What the—?”
“Iced tea. Yandurruh is an alcohol-free community.”
“Great. Another reason why I hate the Outback.”
That was Alex’s cue. He stepped up behind them. “We have a fully stocked bar at Diamond Bay if you prefer, Carlos.”
“Alex.” Carlos slowly turned and they both went through the motions of shaking hands.
Yelena glanced from one man to the other, studying them closely. They were both tall and strikingly good-looking. But where Carlos had that Antonio Banderas, swarthy-romantic-screen-idol look, Alex’s appeal was infinitely more subtle. From his short-cropped hair to the strong, stubbled jaw and piercing blue eyes, his appearance reminded her of powers barely leashed, of treacherous waters lurking beneath his cool, controlled exterior.
Seeing them together was palpably uncomfortable to watch, like witnessing two rival politicians exchange pleasantries just before they ripped each other to shreds.
“I’d kill for a real drink,” Carlos said gruffly as they broke the handshake.
Yelena winced at his word choice, noticing the dark clouds passin
g over Alex’s face.
“I’ll show you the way,” she said quickly, linking her arm in his. As they walked away, she chanced a backwards glance.
Pam and Chelsea had joined Alex and as she watched, Alex’s gaze landed on Bella.
His mouth curled up, his finger going out to stroke the baby’s soft cheek.
Carlos frowned down at her. “You all right?”
She nodded, releasing her tight grip on his arm. He glanced back and his frown deepened.
They silently made their way through the night until they reached the security gate that signaled the perimeter of Diamond Bay property. Yelena keyed open the gate and led Carlos through.
“Nice place,” Carlos mused as they followed the path through the lush vegetation. “Must’ve cost billions to develop.”
Yelena ground to a halt, forcing Carlos to stop, too. “Tell me what happened, Carlos.”
“About…?”
“Between you and Alex. You were business partners. You were friends. And now—”
“What’s he said?” Carlos efficiently flicked a small leaf from his sharp collar.
“Nothing. He refuses to talk about it.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Carlos raised one perfect eyebrow before turning back to the path. With a growl of annoyance, Yelena followed.
“Well, look who his father is—a man who went from poverty to topping Australia’s rich list. Of course he’s not going to tell you he screwed up.”
They finally reached the sweeping courtyard of Merlot, Diamond Bay’s most popular wine bar.
Yelena grabbed his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. “What do you mean, ‘screwed up’?”
Carlos sighed and crossed his arms. “Sprint Travel isn’t doing well.”
What? Why hadn’t Alex told her? “How? Management? Capital? Advertising?”
“Lots of things I won’t get into.” It’s over your head so don’t worry about it, his look said. Yelena’s eyebrows ratcheted up at the barely veiled insult. “I’ll have to take it to the courts.”
“You’re going to fight him for the company?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know this, considering all you’re doing for him.” His expression tightened before quickly smoothing out. “I have no choice,” he added matter-of-factly. “Sprint Travel can’t survive with Alex Rush at the helm.” He gave her arm a pat for good measure. “And Alex will do anything to get the upper hand with the business. Including—” he dropped his gaze, unable to meet her eyes “—using you to get to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Carlos gave her a hurt look. “I’m just looking out for you, Yelena. I’ve dealt with men like Alex before. He’ll stop at nothing to get what they want. Now, are you coming in for a drink?”
She shook her head slowly, then watched Carlos shrug, pity and regret on his handsome face. That couldn’t be right. Alex wasn’t like that. And he wouldn’t withhold that kind of information.
The realization that this was much bigger than she’d first thought lay like fiery leaden chains across her chest. It followed her as she left Carlos and went back to the party, dogged her steps as she put on her happy face and mingled with the guests while she looked for Alex.
She found him in front of a camera, being interviewed for a national news channel. On first glance he appeared relaxed and confident with one hand in his pocket, one gesturing as he talked. Yet even from this distance she could tell he was out of his comfort zone: the rigid jaw and shoulders, for one. The small tight lines around his mouth. Even his casual, wide-legged stance. The body language in all his press footage said the same thing: “I’d rather be somewhere else.”
“…one final question, Mr. Rush,” the female presenter was saying. “How are you coping now, nine months on from your acquittal of your father’s death?”
Every muscle in his body appeared to stiffen. His hands clenched, eyes narrowing to forbidding slits.
Yelena stepped forward. “Hello, Val. You do know a person can’t be acquitted for something they were never charged with?” She casually glanced around. “I thought Mark was on this piece.”
Val Marchetta shrugged her thin shoulders and tilted her head, an affected gesture meant to encourage confidences. “They sent me instead. Fancy seeing you here, Yelena.” The icy smile mirrored in her wide, perfectly made-up eyes.
“Yes. Excuse me,” she said, smiling politely. “Alex, could I see you for a moment?”
She took his arm, smiled again at the now-frowning Val then firmly led him away.
“You didn’t have to rescue me,” he said tightly as they kept on walking.
“Just think of it as preempting a possible awkward moment.” She threw a brief glance back over her shoulder. “And when Val puts the pieces together, our business relationship will no longer be private.”
Alex shrugged. “It had to happen eventually.”
They were finally outside, pausing in a corner where brief shadows gently merged, cooling the early evening. The dozen questions teetering on her tongue all dissolved into a soft murmur of surprise when Alex swiftly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Purpose immediately melted into divine pleasure. His hands held her face, trapping her mouth in a sensual prison and with a half sigh, half groan, she kissed him back.
For minutes they indulged in the simple, erotic pleasure of sharing mouths and tongues, oblivious to the party in full swing inside, to the people walking and mingling not two meters away. Minutes in which Yelena forgot what she’d marched over to say, forgot her exchange with Carlos…hell, she even forgot her name at one point.
When Alex finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless and heavy eyed.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked, voice husky.
“I can’t.”
“I didn’t ask if you could. I asked if you wanted to.”
More than you know. “Alex, I’m working. Did you talk to the press—the other press?” she added.
He sighed. “I did. So did Pam.”
“No hiccups? Everything’s going smoothly?”
“From what I can see.” But at her look, he paused. “Except..?”
“Carlos.”
“Ahh.” Slowly he released her and took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Did you invite him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
To show you how manipulative and selfish he is. “Because I know how much he means to you.”
The look on her face was inscrutable. “He’s been making accusations.”
“About?”
“Sprint Travel’s on the rocks.”
“It is,” he said slowly.
She sucked in a breath. “You’re paying a small fortune for B&H to represent you and you fail to tell me this? Are you crazy? Or do you really not care what I’m trying to do here?”
Alex’s expression tightened. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, how I wish people would stop telling me that! This is why you and Carlos had a falling out, right?”
“Yes.”
“But—” she crossed her arms “—that’s not all.”
Alex seesawed between two truths while his gut pitched. He wanted her to see the real Carlos, not just tell her. Why should she believe him over her flesh-and-blood brother?
“It’s—”
“Complicated. Right.”
This was not going well.
“If you could just give me some time to—”
“Was the other night just a way to get back at my brother?”
He had to hand it to her, she had style. She delivered that question so calmly she could’ve been inquiring about the weather. Impassive face, straight back. Yet through the businesslike façade, Alex knew he’d hurt her.
Damn. “Yelena.” He moved to take her hand but she just stepped back, one eyebrow raised. He squelched a frown, guilty as hell. “That
night, it was just you and me. I was thinking of nothing else, had no ulterior motive except pleasure. Yours and mine.”
He’d never wanted someone to believe him more at this moment. Even after all those months of speculation and repeated interrogation by the cops, Yelena’s belief meant everything right now.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
For one stupid, insane moment it was revenge. Not now. He couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t bear to see the hurt in those wide depths. A disgusted murmur echoed in his throat, self-loathing rising up to choke him.
As the silence and growing distance thundered between them, the cheerful sounds of the party breezed by on the cooling air, paradoxically highlighting the moment with almost vulgar emphasis.
His tongue refused to work, words sticking inside his mouth. Yet at her raised eyebrow, he finally settled on “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Really?” she got out, her frosty look now glacial. “Wow. Imagine if you tried.”
“Yelena—”
“Don’t, Alex. I can’t…” She shook her head firmly. “I need to feed Bella and put her to bed.”
Then she was gone.
Eleven
On swift, urgent feet, Yelena clicked into the main marquee, yet just as she was about to enter, a jagged sob caught her throat.
Mortified, she quickly stepped back, swallowing that horrible vulnerability down. You can’t cry. Not here, not now.
Sheer willpower forced back the tears, sent steel into her composure and determination into every muscle. With a quick toss of her head she stepped inside.
It took under a minute to find her daughter, the center of attention in a bunch of cooing women. Despite her swirling thoughts, Yelena managed a smile. Pam had Bella cradled securely over her shoulder, doing that familiar, slow step-sway dance every mother did to comfort a baby.
She moved forward.
“It’s getting close to six—time to feed Bella,” she said, careful to ensure Pam knew she was there before putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
Pam turned and smiled. “I hope you’re coming back to the party.”
Yelena nodded. “I’ll see how it goes. The staff seem to have things under control.”
