Christmas Tsar (Blood and Thunder 1)

by Susan Stephens

  “Only little things,” she explained.

  “You didn’t tell me you’d bought presents.”

  “But these don’t count, because they’re only small. Well, aren’t you going to open them? You can’t expect Santa Claus to bring the reindeer all the way out here only for you to ignore his lovely gifts.”

  “You bought these for me?”

  “Yes.” She shook the gaudy red stocking. “Take a look.”

  “Mints?” Alexei’s frown deepened as he brought out the packet of mints.

  “For your polo ponies? Come on—hurry up.”

  He hummed as he reached inside again. “Glow corks?” Angling his chin, he stared at her in bemusement.

  “So you can find your vodka in the dark,” Amber explained.

  “Excellent.” Nodding, he concealed a smile as he put the glow corks to one side. “I take it they form a set with the light-up ice cubes?” The next thing out of the stocking.

  “Belt and braces?” Amber agreed solemnly.

  “Build my own yacht?” Alexei queried, finding it even harder to smother a smile as he brought out the next small gift.

  “It’s always good to have a spare,” Amber assured him.

  “And last, but not least…” He delved inside.

  “The billionaire bath duck,” she announced as he brought it out. “You do love your bath,” she observed, “and this duck is a billionaire by day and a vigilante crime fighter by night, as you can tell from his uniform—”

  Reaching for her wrist, he caught her close. “You do know I haven’t got you anything else, don’t you?”

  “Mouse is enough. I don’t want anything else.”

  “Of course you do,” he argued. “You need a good man—someone who appreciates you and who can give you all the little things you need.”

  “I don’t need little things,” she assured him with a steady look and an attempt at humor, but there was hurt behind her eyes.

  The day rolled out like the most perfect Christmas Day, if they could just forget that it was a moment in time and not forever, Amber thought. They swam and they sunbathed and ate all the lovely food the chef had prepared for them, and then they made love as if there was no end in sight and only endless, perfect now.

  It was suppertime when perfect got tarnished.

  They had decided to dress for dinner and were loading the trolley in the galley before taking it onto the deck, where the beautifully set dining table was waiting for them. Alexei had chosen her dress, a slim column of silver silk. He looked like a film star in exquisitely tailored taupe linen pants and blue shirt. He’d just wheeled the food trolley onto the deck, when he remembered something.

  “I almost forgot to give you this,” he said as he plunged a hand into his top pocket.

  Of course her mind went into a spin. What is he going to pull out? For a moment, she was floating, but then she crashed down. The thick wad of banknotes in his hand choked off her exclamation of pleasure.

  “Your wages,” he explained.

  For a moment, she couldn’t compute what he was saying. Her wages for what?

  Alexei frowned when she remained frozen and made no attempt to take the money from him. “You are a crew member on board Russian Thunder, aren’t you?” he pressed.

  “Yes,” she agreed on a dry throat.

  “Then, take it,” he insisted. “There’s holiday pay, and whatever else.” His frown deepened when he saw her expression. “You’re being treated exactly the same as all the other crew. I always give them a good Christmas—”

  She would have preferred him to slap her in the face. It might have woken her up faster. “Of course I’m a member of your crew,” she agreed, battling hurt and humiliation.

  “Come on, take it,” Alexei insisted impatiently.

  No chance. She tucked her hands out of sight behind her back.

  “Don’t be silly, Amber. There’s pride, and then there’s foolishness.”

  “Well, maybe I am foolish,” she agreed as she backed away from the dining chair Alexei had pulled out for her. “But I don’t want your money, and I’m sure you can find a better use for it.”

  Thrusting it into her hand, he brought his face close. “What makes you think you’re better than everyone else, Amber?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” she fired back. “That’s not how I think.”

  “Then take the money,” he repeated.

  “You take the money—” And shove it, she wanted to say, but she had a better idea. “Take that money and make sure it gets to the women you saved. Let them have a decent Christmas.”

  “That’s all taken care of, as I’ve already told you.”

  “Okay.” Taking the money from him, she laid it at the side of her place setting. “I haven’t earned this and I don’t want it, but there must be something those women need, or something for them in the future going forward.”

  “Where are you going?” Alexei called after her. “Amber, come back here!”

  She had started to run. When was she going to get it through her thick skull, that she would never mean more to Alexei than good sex? And she didn’t run back to her luxurious apartment on the upper deck of his superyacht but to her staff cabin in the bowels of the ship.

  ~o0o~

  Would he ever understand women? He could guarantee a man would take the money, thank him, and that would be the end of it. But a woman? Oh no. A woman had to analyze and emote and suspect, and do all those things while looking as if he’d just insulted her. He had only wanted to pay Amber the money he owed her—a fair wage in his world—for putting up with him, if nothing else. He guessed the salary for a cub reporter at Hard News would be derisory, if they paid her at all. Maybe that had something to do with her outrage. But was it enough to make her run from him?

  Amber had never run from anything in her life, as far as he could tell, so what was she running from now?

  Descending to the lower deck, he noticed the lack of natural lighting and lousy air-con. There was no excuse. Cruise ships had virtual vistas on the inside cabins and air-con that worked. When was the last time he’d been down here?

  He hammered on the door of her cabin. “Amber, let me in.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her.

  “Then, you can settle in for the night.”

  He rested his brow against the door. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Try me.”

  He could kick the door in—

  And piss her off even more?

  He slid down the door and sat with his back resting against the smooth, cool wood, in a narrow corridor he must have been in once, if only when he inspected the ship when he first bought it. Now it could do with a refit. “Amber! I need you to open that door.” She’d be the one to organize a refit. Fuck it, she was probably the only one who could organize his life. “Amber!”

  “Go away,” she repeated angrily.

  “Let me in, or I’ll take the door from its hinges.”

  “You’d use violence?” she exclaimed.

  “I was thinking a screwdriver?”

  There was a long silence, and then she opened the door. He felt wretched to see she’d been crying. Her hair was a mess, and her dress was rumpled. She looked adorable. “Can I come in?”

  “Better if I come out,” she snapped tensely. “There isn’t room in here for two of us.”

  “So I see,” he agreed, peering inside. “Looks as if we’ve got a major refit due down here. Maybe you could handle that for me?”

  “Me?” She looked at him suspiciously. “If that’s your way of saying sorry—”

  “That’s my way of saying if you feel you haven’t done enough to earn that money, I’m sure we can sort that out. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Somehow, he was inside the cabin, and there were only inches to spare between him, the bed, and the door, and with Amber in the mix, that was really tight.

  “Alexei! No.” She glared at him when he slipped the
dress straps from her shoulders.

  “Positively no?”

  She narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t move, and her eyes were darkening a little more with every passing second. “You know I can’t,” she said.

  “Can’t what?” he asked, backing away.

  “Can’t resist you—fuck it!” she hissed on a thwarted breath.

  He laughed with relief. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “For you, maybe,” she said as she stepped out of the dress.

  “This…thing we have is inconvenient for both of us, I know. Unfortunately, I feel the same way about you,” he admitted, “so why fight it?” His mouth tugged in a faint smile as he kissed her, and within moments, her fingers were laced through his hair.

  “Perhaps if I knew the first thing about you,” Amber said later when they were lying entwined on her far too narrow bunk, “I could understand you better, and be more sympathetic.”

  “More sympathetic? I’d like to experience that.”

  “I don’t just mean sex,” she said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  She looked at him with surprise. “Seriously?”

  He kissed her again, tasting her lips, lingering, and loving being close to her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to let her a little way in. She was in the space-saver position, lying on top of him, with her chin resting on her folded arms. Her gaze was serious as it steadied on his face. “Tell me everything,” she said.

  He laughed softly. “That’s a lot of talking.”

  “Okay, so start with your first memory.”

  He didn’t have to think hard to recall that, because it was still so vivid. “Sitting in a basket saddle on the back of a horse with nothing around me but space. I was alarmed to start with, but my grandfather was riding next to me, talking to me all the time, so it was okay.”

  “On the steppes of Russia,” she said. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes as if trying to picture the scene. “Where were your parents?”

  “Dead,” he said flatly.

  “How?”

  Amber met his warning stare steadily and with determination. “Yes, how?” she repeated.

  “Rival gangs. My father was a petty criminal.” He paused and exhaled heavily. “When things heated up, my mother smuggled me out of the city and took me to my grandfather’s in the country. But then she went back to my father and paid with her life.”

  “She must have loved your father very much, and you,” she said.

  “Much good it did her,” he remembered bitterly.

  “So that’s why your life of horses and justice is all intertwined?” Her eyes sparked as she fit another piece of the jigsaw into place.

  “Maybe,” he agreed. He didn’t want to say any more, but she was still curious.

  “And your grandfather?” she pressed.

  “Was the most wonderful man—he shaped my life. He was a good man, a widower, but an old man when I was orphaned. That didn’t stop him taking me in and raising me like a son. He worked on my homework each night with me after a long day’s work in the fields, and he lived long enough to see me join the forces. I only wish he’d lived long enough to see the multinational corporation that grew from the oil that was discovered on his land.”

  “You must have loved him very much.”

  His face softened briefly, remembering. “I went back when he needed me when oil was discovered. He needed my strength then, not my love.”

  “Everyone needs love, Alexei.”

  “Not me, evidently.”

  “Or perhaps you’re frightened to love, because everyone you loved as a child was taken from you—”

  “Spare me the amateur psychology.” He moved abruptly, startling her. “I’m a hard man in a hard world, Amber. Don’t try to make me out to be something I’m not.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t be in the least put off. Rolling over to face him, she rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “Do you still have a home on the steppes?”

  “I have homes everywhere.” And stayed nowhere for long.

  “I’d love to see your home on the steppes one day. I know that’s not possible—”

  A tense silence fell between them, which she broke.

  “So you live here on Russian Thunder.”

  “As restless as a Cossack on the plains.” He huffed a humorless laugh.

  He was always moving. It was the only way he could find peace. The only home he could remember was with his grandfather, and he would never recreate that.

  “So, these other homes?” she said, perhaps in an attempt to lighten his mood.

  “Covered in dustsheets, for all I know.” All of them were fully staffed, and all of them neglected by him, though they could be made ready for him at a moment’s notice.

  “So with all those properties, you’ve got nowhere to call home,” Amber observed, frowning.

  “I’m not exactly suffering,” he said dryly.

  “No,” she agreed, and with her keenest observation yet, she said, “You’ve got everything and nothing.”

  He hummed as he swung into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

  “Tell me more about your grandfather,” she begged, coming to sit at his side. “He sounds like a wonderful man.”

  The pain of loss came flooding back. He shrugged it off and replaced it with anger—anger was always easier to handle than the pain of knowing he couldn’t bring his grandfather back to enjoy what should have been his.

  “The stress of the growing business killed him—that, and the vultures circling. My grandfather wasn’t equipped for the cutthroat, big-city world of high finance. People thought I was young and no threat, and they could walk over me and take his money.”

  “I imagine they learned their mistake.”

  “My grandfather’s training made me strong,” he agreed.

  “His love saved you. Your mother’s love saved you.”

  “You don’t know anything about it,” he flared.

  “You feel you’ve let them down, when nothing could be further from the truth. They’d be so proud of you, Alexei, and what you’re doing with your money—with your life. You do so much good. You just don’t see it.”

  “I damage people,” he said coldly.

  She made an impatient gesture. “Wallow in self-pity if you must—never settle down, because, yes, you might fail. Never love again, because you might lose that love. Never risk your heart. Yes. That’s the safest route for you to take.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know this. You’re a good man, but if you can’t see that, there’s no hope for me.”

  “For you?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “You can’t even see how I feel about you—because you won’t allow yourself to see.”

  She had exposed his Achilles’ heel, and she had been merciless about it. It was time for Amber to understand that he wouldn’t change, and that he let no one in. He stood up, and so did she, and she was dressed before him. “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, opening the door. “You are.” She stood back. “Good night, Alexei.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was business as usual the next day. The skeleton crew had returned from their Christmas break. The lines were cast off, and Russian Thunder, bustling with activity, set sail. Encouraged by fair weather and a following wind, they headed for Isla Celeste.

  Amber was dressed immaculately in her uniform, ready to start her official duties for the day with her hair neatly tied back. There was plenty for her to do, but that didn’t stop her thinking and grieving for Alexei. People probably thought he was the last person on earth to feel sorry for, but she did feel sorry for him because he refused to change.

  He shunned all affection, she mused as she set out his coffee tray. And who was she to come on board Alexei’s yacht and try to make him fit the mold she thought he should fit?

  She hadn’t slept
last night after throwing him out of her cabin. She hadn’t wasted her time either. She’d propped Mr. Mouse up next to her laptop and had written her first article, which she’d delivered to Hard News this morning before starting work. Part One told the exciting tale of life on board a billionaire’s yacht. It was the sort of thing that fascinated her. She’d write the next installment when they reached Isla Celeste and she was introduced to the other part of Alexei’s life: his life in polo. Whatever she wrote, she would never betray his trust. He’d confided in her, and she valued that. She would perpetuate the myth of a mystery man who had sprung full-formed from the wild steppes of Russia. Any more detail and she might inadvertently put him in danger.

  Anything more and her heart would be in even more danger than it was already, she thought as she lifted his tray of coffee to take it to him.

  ~o0o~

  He was on the phone when Amber arrived on deck. He’d been lounging at the dining table, making a call too important to break off and look at her when she arrived. He pointed to where he wanted her to put the tray. He sensed Amber’s silent rage as he cut the call and finally looked at her. “Amber…”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I missed you last night.”

  “Would you like me to pour the coffee, sir?”

  “No,” he snapped, irritated by her manner. “I would like you to look at me when I speak to you.”

  “Is that an order, sir?”

  “Stop this. I don’t know what happened last night, but I do know you’re overreacting again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Amber—”

  “My apologies, sir, but I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.”

  He swore viciously in Russian. “You’re about as apologetic as a—”

  “As a mouse, sir?”

  Her tone had changed from studiously polite to seriously scathing. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing, sir. Can I get you anything else?”

  “I’d like Amber back, please.”

  She finally snapped. “Then don’t shout in my face, don’t order me about, and don’t point when you want something done. For once, try to treat me like a human being with feelings rather than a cold stone god like you. Whether I’m crew or just your latest fuck buddy, I refuse to be subjected to any more of your—”