by Olivia Gates
He raised the food to lips that had gone numb, unable to taste anything as he chewed. Swallowing was an even harder feat, pushing the food past the blockage in his throat. All the time he could feel Kassandra’s gaze on him, scorching layers off his inflamed skin. It took what was left of his control not to turn to her, ask for her intervention.
But she didn’t intervene. She didn’t make a single move, as if she was trying to blend into the background to make them all forget she was there.
While that was what he’d asked her to do, now that he had the girls’ full attention and interest, he would have given anything for her to dilute their focus. Which was pathetic, since this was the opportunity he’d badgered her for, what he’d been dreaming of for so long.
Inching closer now that they literally had him eating out of their hands, the two girls started handing him their favorite toys as more evidence of their acceptance, naming each one to show off their knowledge.
It became clear the second time they waited after naming something that they were waiting for him to provide the Russian equivalent. And so it started, a game of translation.
The Russian word they loved the most was the one for doll. They both kept giggling and reiterating, “Kukla...kukla!”
They then moved on to testing him. One of them presented a coloring book and the other the crayons. When he colored a pony in a color scheme that was different from all the examples in the colored pages, they got more excited, and tried to emulate him in other books. After a while, dissatisfied with their own results compared to his impeccable ones, they reverted to the name-and-translate game.
Suddenly Eva seemed to realize she’d forgotten a vital issue. Then she pointed at herself and said, with a great sense of importance, “Eva.”
Not to be outdone, Zoya immediately pointed to herself and said, “Zoya.”
Then they both pointed at him, demanding he reciprocated the introduction.
He struggled to make his voice sound as normal as possible. “Leonid.”
Not expecting them to be able to say such an abrupt name, they both surprised him by repeating accurately. “Leonid.”
Swallowing past the growing pain in his throat, he felt the urge to complete the introduction, even when he knew they wouldn’t understand the significance. “Ya tvoy Papa. This is also in Russian. It means ‘I’m your father.’”
Feeling terminally stupid for speaking in such long sentences, and in two languages, too, when they at most only knew a few dozen words in English and maybe also in Greek, he smiled shakily, waiting for their attempt at the word.
This time they almost gave him a heart attack.
Getting to the heart of what he’d said, they both pointed at him and chorused, “Papa.”
* * *
By now, Kassandra had gotten used to her heart’s erratic function. Since Leonid had appeared on her doorstep, it had been stopping periodically before it stampeded out of control in compensation.
From the moment the girls hadn’t run to welcome him as they did anyone who entered their home with her, she’d known.
They’d at once realized he wasn’t just a friend or an acquaintance, but someone on a totally different level from anyone they’d seen before. Far more important than even Kassandra’s family. Someone on par in importance to them with Kassandra herself.
Kassandra had bated her breath, dreading that Leonid would botch this, knowing from their instant recognition of his significance to them that it would hurt them. But Leonid had proceeded to provide one shock after another, everything he’d done and said sensitive and inventive. He’d followed no known path with the girls, and soon had them so engrossed in his presence, they’d forgotten to include her.
What had at first rattled her with chagrin and jealousy had gradually become incredibly emotional, as she watched something she’d always dreamed of but never believed would come to pass. The girls with their father, the only other person who should love them as completely as she did, behaving as if they’d known him all their lives. She couldn’t have interacted with the trio had they asked.
Hours could have passed since they’d become immersed in one another. She’d lost track of self and time as she’d watched them. She’d even lost sight of her memories of the past and everything that had led to this situation. All she could see was her girls delighting in their father, and him appearing to delight in them back.
And then came their fervent proclamation that he was their “papa.” Just as her stalled heart sputtered into a forced restart, Leonid stopped it again, saying so deeply and gently, “Yes, you brilliant girls, I’m your papa.”
Before she could draw a breath, before she passed out and spoiled everything, the girls threw themselves at Leonid.
A surprised laugh issued from him as he hugged tight the small, robust bodies of her daughters. Kassandra reeled, trying to make sense of this.
She could only think the girls had always realized other kids had papas while they didn’t. Then they had seen Leonid and simply recognized him as their own papa. Once they’d approved him through their own brand of testing, and he’d validated their belief, they’d accepted him in their own unique way.
No, they’d more than accepted him. They’d claimed him.
It was funny she’d think of this specific term, what he’d already used about them. But nothing else described what was happening in front of her eyes. It was a claiming. Declared and accepted, on both sides.
Leonid, who’d been doing everything right to put the girls at ease, from body language to expression to tone of voice, now rumbled with unfettered laughter as the girls attacked him with their zeal. But what he did next had her slumping back against the couch in a nerveless mass.
He sprawled flat on the ground, letting the girls prowl all over his great body. Thrilled by his action and the invitation it afforded them, they drowned him in hugs and kisses before launching into examining every inch of his very-different-to-hers body and clothes, acquainting themselves with the details of that new powerful entity they’d made their own.
Then she started to worry again. That this would still end badly, that Leonid would be appalled or fed up by their level of enthusiasm and attention. Would he decide he’d made a mistake coming near them and withdraw? Then she scolded herself for worrying. She should hope for that to happen so he’d leave, let them return to their contented status quo. As for the girls’ psyches, they were young enough that if he disappeared now, no matter his impact on them, they’d soon forget him.
Just as she’d come to this conclusion and was pulling herself up to intervene, he looked up at her from his flat-on-his-back position on the floor, covered in toddler limbs and laughter, with a grin she’d never seen on his face before.
“Any help here?”
Okay, that didn’t look like the face or attitude of a man who was regretting anything. His call for help seemed to be part of the game, maybe his way of including her in it.
Forcing her feet to function, she approached the merry mass on the ground made up of the beings who mattered most to her. Leonid once, and her girls forever.
She stopped over them, her lips quirking involuntarily at the infectious gaiety at her feet.
“What help does the unstoppable future king require?”
Eyes that had haunted her for the past five years flashed azure merriment up at her, the stiff stranger of the first two encounters gone. “I have no idea. But I can tell you that if you don’t do something and they don’t let me up, you may have to let me spend the night right here on the ground.”
“Take heart. In a worst-case scenario, they’ll keep you there until they fall asleep. Once they do, I can get them off you and you’ll be free to get up.”
Eva pulled his face toward her to show him another toy, a miniature lion. After he told her it was lev and she dutifully
repeated her own version of the word, Zoya pointed to her cat Shadow, who’d come to join the fun with Goldie. After he told her both the word for cat and their breeds in Russian and she did the same, he swung his gaze back to Kassandra.
“Do they usually use you as a mattress or am I getting special treatment?”
“You’re the one who made yourself one. But then, I’m nowhere as big and comfortable as you are.”
She knew that from extensive experience. Going to sleep spread over him after long, depleting nights of excruciating pleasure.
Thankfully, he wasn’t the man he’d been. That man would have latched on to that comment, teasing and provoking her. That man had been raging wildfire, while this new man was a bottomless ocean. His unexpected behavior with the girls was just another depth to him she hadn’t thought could exist.
He broke eye contact when the quartet of girls and cats demanded his attention. Then one duo was climbing off him only for the other to climb on. With only the cats to contend with, he sat up, with them roaming his lap. Eva and Zoya called him to another part of their playroom, and he looked at her again, seeming to find some trouble rising to his feet.
Her heart gave a sick lurch. It appeared his injuries had never fully healed, as she’d once feared. He hid it well, but now that she was looking for evidence of it, she could see his gait wasn’t normal. After sitting on the floor for so long, it was harder for him to conceal.
Not that she was about to feel bad for him. He’d never needed or even tolerated her empathy. The best she could be was civil, and it was only for the girls’ sake.
After he followed the girls to their sandbox in the adjoining enclosed terrace, he looked back at her.
“So you enlisted The Savage Sarantoses and the Big Bad Russian Wolf’s help to...deal with me.”
Not knowing what to make of his attitude, if he was angry about her siccing them on him, or taunting her about her effort’s failure, she arched an eyebrow. “Should’ve saved my breath. They turned out to be neither savage nor big and bad. You neutralized them as if by magic.”
His lips twitched as he kneeled where the girls indicated at the edge of their sandbox, clearly unconcerned by the damages his handmade suit would certainly suffer.
With a shovel in hand, he slanted her another glance that set her insides quivering. “No spells were involved. But I applaud your effort. It was a very sound strategy. That it didn’t work doesn’t make it any less so.”
Was he...entertained by her struggle against him? Teasing her about its futility? If he was, it was a more understated form of provocation than anything he’d ever exposed her to. And whether she was more susceptible now, or he was more potent, it was far more...unsettling.
“Join me in building a castle for our princesses?”
For several long seconds she could only stare at him. It had just dawned on her.
Eva and Zoya were actual princesses.
When one daunting eyebrow prodded a response from her, she made herself move. She came down on her knees far enough from him to keep her agitation at manageable levels, but close enough to work with him, if need be. The girls flitted between them, handing them tools, then climbing inside to make their own little molds as she and Leonid started collaborating on something intricate.
Trying to focus on what they were doing, she said, “I’ve never attempted anything elaborate, since their appreciation takes the form of destructive admiration. Then they’re crestfallen when my creations crumble.”
He shrugged those endless shoulders. “I’ll try to make them realize how to preserve it, but if they level it or it’s time to replace it, I’ll make them understand I’ll build them another. In time, I’ll teach them how to build their own.”
“You seem certain you can get all this across.”
“I am. They’re extremely intelligent and very receptive.”
She almost blurted out that while they were indeed intelligent, she’d only seen this level of receptiveness directed at him. But she held her tongue. The admission would only complicate matters further.
From then on, there were stretches of silence between them as they worked, with Leonid taking the lead, creating a castle that looked like a miniature of a real one in every detail. Then, true to his conviction, he curbed the girls’ appetite for destruction, encouraging them to expend their excitement in making flower and animal molds to surround it.
Then it was time for the girls’ dinner, and he pounced on the chance to feed them, insisting on handling the soup part. He managed to complete the task with even less mess than she usually did. And he’d turned the whole thing into another game, pointing to kitchen articles with each spoonful, getting names in English, correcting and translating what the girls didn’t know. The girls competed to provide answers, and get Papa’s attention and appreciation.
An hour after dinner, two hours after their bedtime, the girls lost the fight to prolong their wakefulness to remain with Leonid. And they again did something unprecedented. Instead of turning to her, they went to him, arms raised, demanding to be picked up. At once complying, he gathered them in a secure hold, where they both promptly dozed off.
Without a word, she led him to the nursery, where he placed them, one after the other, in their cribs. She stood with bated breath, waiting to see what he’d do next as he remained standing over them, his eyes wells of mystery in the dimness.
At length, he bent and kissed them. Each girl gave a contented gurgle at his tender caress before assuming her favorite sleeping position.
Straightening, he led the way out of the room, then headed straight for the door. He didn’t look her way until he’d opened it and stepped outside.
“Thank you for tonight.”
With that, he turned and slowly walked down the steps. In a minute, he climbed into his car and drove away.
Closing the door, she automatically armed her security system, turned off the lights and headed to her room.
It was only after she’d gone through her nighttime routine and slipped into bed that she let it all crash on her. Everything he’d said and done all through the evening, everything about him.
Nothing made sense anymore.
For two years, the last thing she’d wanted was Leonid near again. Now, she was forced to face the truth.
She’d wanted him to come near tonight. So much that his pointed avoidance of her had felt like a knife in her gut. It still twisted there now.
She might have been able to handle it if she’d had any hope he would stay away from her altogether. But after this incredible first meeting between him and her...his...their daughters, she knew there was no hope for that.
Leonid would be in their lives. If everything she’d felt from him toward the girls tonight was real, and she couldn’t doubt it was, she could no longer deny him, or them, that reality.
Which meant he would be in her life, too, maybe even forever.
The only man she’d ever wanted.
When he’d long stopped wanting her.
Four
A rewind button had yanked Kassandra back into her worst days—only with an even darker twist. For this time, it wasn’t Leonid discarding her, leaving her desolate and then disappearing. He was now planning to stay around forever.
After she’d thought she’d been cured of any emotions she’d felt for him, she’d woken up today with her resolve to stay neutral pulverized. It had taken him exactly four hours last night to show her how self-deluding she’d been, how susceptible to his magic she remained. How pathetic she was.
If only he’d lived up to her expectations, had been the unfeeling entity he’d been with her, with the girls. It would have given her ammunition to stop him coming near them again. It would have saved her from stumbling back into the abyss of longing. But he’d been...perfect.
Wo
rse, they’d all been perfect together. It had been like she’d watched scattered pieces of a vital whole finally clicking together. She of all people recognized and realized the significance of what she’d witnessed. Her very self had been built around a tight relationship with her father as much as her mother. She knew exactly how wonderful such a relationship could be, how essential a loving paternal influence was. And just by being wonderful with the girls, he’d snatched away her last weapon against him, that of his potential disruptiveness to the girls’ psyches and lives. Now she had to let him be the girls’ father, as she could no longer doubt he truly wanted to be. She had to let the girls have him as the other half of their world, while trying to preserve her sanity with him around. But now that she’d discovered her unilateral fixation with him had never weakened, she had no idea how she’d achieve that.
Dwelling on that terrible fate had to be postponed. Now she had work to do, far more than usual since she hadn’t worked a lick since he’d reappeared. The summer line wouldn’t approve itself and put itself into production.
Walking into her design house’s new headquarters, she concentrated on being attentive and friendly with each and every one of her employees. She’d done it wholeheartedly so many times she could do it on autopilot now.
Reaching her office, she thought she’d escaped with her turmoil undetected, anxious to plunge into work, the only thing that would ameliorate it. But the moment she entered, she knew salvaging her schedule would have to wait. Right there in her sitting area were three of the people her staff knew to let into her private space without question.
Her best friends.
It should have been a shock to find them here, as dropping by her office on a whim was no longer something they did with her on the other side of the continent. It should have at least been a surprise. It was neither. Seemed Leonid had depleted her reserves for shock and surprise for the foreseeable future.
