Hold Me Tight: Heartbreakers (18 page)

Alexi frowned and rubbed his index finger up and down beneath his lips. “Hmm.”

He crouched to scratch off the names of the appliances on the floor and scribbled new ones.

“Alexi, I do not like how you—”

He stood and looked down at her, then leaned back against
the counter. “What’s the matter? Can’t you keep up, Sterling?”

“You’re determined to—”

He bent to kiss her again, this time nuzzling her cheek with his and whispering in her ear, “You’re all rosy and warm, just like when you—”

This time Jessica grabbed his shirt with both fists. “You think you can get away with anything, don’t you?”

“I like to think so,” Alexi stated mildly, reaching to ease a strand of her hair behind her ear. He bent to nibble on her lobe. “What are you going to do about it?”

He hadn’t shaved. His brilliant blue eyes were dancing with humor, the lines beside them crinkling, and there was that devastating grin, a boy at play tormenting a girl. To add to that image, Alexi reached out to tug one of the braids he’d fashioned for her earlier.

Alexi could be sweet, like when tugging her onto his lap to braid her hair. Or he could be tormenting, like now.

She could either retain her dignity, or she could—Jessica shoved her hands into his hair and tugged his head down for a kiss that she hoped would stun him. Then
she,
the champion in their tussles, would walk away…. Alexi was in for a big lesson at Jessica-school.

She had never come after him, but now nothing could stop her. She slanted her mouth on his, fusing the fit, then arched against him. Alexi’s arms tightened around her, lifting her slightly until their stares met. “You’re getting very physical and demanding, aren’t you, Sterling?”

“Can’t you keep up, Stepanov?” she asked huskily, and bent to gently nip the side of his throat, his earlobe. Hitching higher, she wrapped her legs around him. She watched Alexi, pleased that he’d seemed shocked at her play. She’d never played in sex before, teasing, demanding, taking that first initiative—

Alexi’s hands cupped her bottom and, carrying her, he walked to their bed, turned and fell backward with her on top of him.

He lay quietly beneath her, watching, waiting.

“It’s daylight,” she said, weighing the hours until dark against her need for Alexi.

“We’re losing it,” he reminded her.

Jessica sat up astride him. She tugged off her overlarge sweat jacket, the overlarge sweater, all battered and worn, courtesy of Alexi’s limited clothing. She began to unbutton his large flannel shirt and his eyes darkened into silver slits as she peeled it away, revealing her sports bra.

He was already aroused, layers of fabric separating them, and yet he hadn’t touched her. The tiny lines around his tightly pressed lips said he was fighting the sensual taunt. There was nothing more challenging that a sensual battle with Alexi—it served to stoke her own hunger. The incredible freedom to expose her needs to Alexi, to know that she could control the pace, that he would always wait for her fullest pleasure, astounded her.

Jessica slowly slipped out of her sports bra and tossed it aside. She smiled at Alexi and rode that slight movement of his rising hips. “Oh, oh, got to go,” she said, and put one leg out, her toes reaching for the floor.

She loved this game—hunting, chasing, teasing Alexi, because she knew it would always end the same. She laughed as Alexi reacted instantly, tugging on her wrist. He toppled her gently in the opposite direction, flat on the bed, and pinned her with his body. “You think so, do you?”

His hand ran down to the bow in her sweatpants, tugging it free and easing away the pants and the thermalwear beneath it. Cupping her briefly, Alexi ran his fingers along the elastic of her briefs and stroking her gently, found the liquid, intimate warmth. Jessica caught her breath, the cords of her body tightening, her skin heating, that melting hunger that needed feeding. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she forced herself to breathe quietly. She could already feel the riveting storm, feel herself traveling into the tight, passionate tunnel, spiraling upward—

With a grin he said, “Oh, oh, got to go,” repeating her tease.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said as her own hands began to work, her body already undulating to the heavy pressure of his.
In a flurry of hands and open mouths and hunger, Alexi was soon undressed. He let her turn him easily, his hands cupping her breasts as she rose over him, already accepting his fullness, bending to the pleasure of his kiss, tasting the heat and hunger rise desperately, feverishly in him.

One tug of his mouth’s suction and Jessica let go the quiet scream of pleasure, her body already tightening, bunching for a release.

But Alexi wanted more, demanded more, making her wait until their bodies were slick with sweat, every heartbeat racing. Suddenly, Jessica could no longer wait, freeing the pleasure, letting it burst within her, through her.

Later she lay within Alexi’s arms, her body tangled with his, her cheek against his shoulder. He stroked her back, nuzzled her head, and as his heart slowed its race, he kissed her damp forehead.

Whatever had been bothering him loomed, almost palpable between them.

Then Alexi was untangling their bodies, rising from the bed, almost as if he couldn’t bear to touch her….

Naked, broad shoulders gleamed in the dim light outlining his body as Alexi slid into his jeans and walked into the kitchen.

Puzzled at his change of mood from playful to sensual and then to brooding, Jessica slowly drew on his flannel shirt and followed.

She found Alexi, his hands braced on the counter, looking out at the thin line of brilliant orange separating the night sky from the black waves. “Alexi? What’s wrong?”

S
he wore another man’s ring.

Jessica considered what they had to be “temporary.”

And Alexi wanted everything!

Alexi stiffened as Jessica’s open hand smoothed his back and she asked again, “Alexi?”

He turned to her abruptly. Alexi considered Jessica’s vulnerable, concerned expression, her cheeks flushed by their lovemaking, her lips swollen from his kiss. She looked like a child, mussed from sleep, in his overlarge flannel shirt—until he noted her long, smooth legs, legs that had wrapped around him, her body gloving his, making them one.

She hid so much of herself from him—those tight little inner emotions. When she touched his mother’s china, it was with reverence and fear of breaking the pieces. But it was more than that, as if she were storing memories to last long after she’d left him.

What would Jessica do if she knew how deeply he already loved her? That each time they made love, he thought about his own child growing within her?

Uncertain in his frustration, Alexi rapped at her. “You bought a new shuttle bus, complete with handicap facilities. You bought wheelchairs and other medical necessities for those who needed them. You donated to the clinic.”

She frowned, her hand upon his chest now, smoothing the area over his aching heart. “Yes, I did. Willow has a new van, and I needed the shuttle so that I could carry more people on outings. Corporations donate for tax deductions. It serves everyone.”

He caught her wrist, capturing it just as he wanted to do with the woman, to keep her by his side. To make his life with her. “Does that mean you’re staying? You live here, work with me every day, and when I’m tending bar, you’re at your desk, working.”

“I don’t see the problem, Alexi.”

“You wouldn’t. You’re on an extended vacation, right? What if I want more than this month? Or six months. Or forever. What then?”

His gut tightened painfully as Jessica paled and her hand moved away; another man’s emeralds glittered in the dim light. The demand that he’d pushed back too often surged roughly to his lips. “What am I to you?”

Alexi could barely breathe; her answer was too long in coming, too thoughtful.

“Well, you’re definitely not my fun-time guy—except when you want to be. You can be charming, boyish and most of all unpredictable. Top that off with bossy, arrogant, swaggering, macho, brooding, whatever, and I guess that would be you. I doubt that anyone knows just exactly what a pain in the butt you can be, Stepanov.”

“You know what I mean.” He ran his hand through his hair. Jessica let him into her life just that bit, and then the doors slammed shut.

“This is all so beautiful,” Jessica whispered unevenly. “I’m discovering all sorts of things about myself, Alexi. It’s terrifying to discover that I want a man so badly that I’d forget where my obligations lie…that I am tempted to drop a promise to a man who helped me survive.”

Alexi frowned and crossed his arms. Unlike the lover of a short time ago, he seemed formidable, foreign and dangerously on edge. “Your obligations are to yourself, to what you feel.”

“No, you don’t understand what Robert did for me. On his deathbed, he asked me to see to Howard, to help him. I said I would. I—Robert was the father I never had. He was my mentor and my friend—”

“I know.” He’d been wrong to push her, and seeing her torn between her obligation and what Alexi wanted hurt him, as well. Putting aside his needs, Alexi reached to gather her into his arms. He picked her up and carried her to the big rocking chair, easing to sit with her. Jessica reached to take the soft throw from the back and spread it over them, covering his bare shoulder with the cloth on one side; on the other, she rested her head. She sighed unevenly, dabbed the cloth at her damp eyes and settled against him. “I could stay like this forever.”

The wooden chair began to creak as Alexi rocked her. For the moment he gave himself to the peace of having Jessica in his arms. But he knew he would want more than “temporary.” “That’s your decision.”

While Alexi was out at the Seagull’s Perch remodeling the storage room, Jessica lay on the house’s floor, next to Tanya, gardening books spread open in front of them. The mid-March winds howled around the corners of the house, snug now with the renovations. Baby Sasha was in her Moses cradle, sleeping until her next feeding—a bottle of her mother’s breast milk. Meanwhile, Ellie and Mikhail were enjoying a romantic dinner at the Amoteh.

According to Viktor, mid-March was the perfect time to plant potatoes and they had, just today. The huge garden space had been plowed and tilled, waiting for vegetable seeds. Jessica had known how to cut “seed” potatoes, keeping an “eye” in each section and letting them dry somewhat before planting.

She’d missed the simple rhythm of life that she’d known as a child, the planting of a garden and watching it grow. She missed hanging sheets on a sunlit clothesline, and the new one
that Alexi had built was perfect. So perfect that she’d stood between the lines of sheets, crying so that he couldn’t see her.

Discovering her there, he’d seemed so angry—his thumb testing the dampness on her cheek. And then Alexi had tugged her into his arms, holding her tight and safe where she could hear the comforting beat of his heart.

“Temporary” was a big word. Maybe he felt, as she did, that this beautiful time together was only a slice in time.

She had made two brief necessary visits to her office in Seattle, and Alexi had insisted going with her. Of course, he’d concealed his purpose to protect her against Howard with the need to secure various hardware—any of which could have been ordered through catalogs or online. In her house, Alexi—a man raised on a Western ranch and used to big expanses of sky, water and land—was restless and uncomfortable. While watching him put aside his needs to see to her safety, Jessica knew that her home was back in Amoteh, in the cozy house they were remodeling together—in the gleaming floors, the big, wide Stepanov bed….

Tanya brought Jessica back to the present; the girl’s small finger traced a picture of pansies. “Pansies are happy, aren’t they? Like little faces? Viktor said his wife liked pansies, especially deep purple ones. Grandpa Fadey says that we are going to grow lots of raspberries and that I can pick them and that Grandma Mary Jo says that I can help her make his favorite-ever cookies.”

The cycle of life was here in Amoteh, changing seasons with the Stepanov family, with Alexi….

Years ago, Jessica had left a dirt-poor farm, a family who didn’t care—and she was never going back. What would Alexi think of a woman who couldn’t bear to see her parents again? Who could never go home? She didn’t want to give him the ugly pictures of that life, so different from this one.

Baby Sasha stirred and mewed lightly, and Jessica rose to change her diaper. Tanya began cutting pictures out of the catalogs to paste onto paper for Viktor.

Cradling the baby against her, smelling that sweet scent, Jes
sica heard the doorbell. Tanya, eager to show her parents her handiwork, sprang up to follow Jessica to the sunroom.

It would be beautiful, Jessica thought as she passed through the spacious room, the cool, practical, pebbled linoleum perfect to counterbalance potted herbs and seedlings, not ready for full sun. With the baby in her arms and Tanya at her side, Jessica opened the door.

On the back deck, the tall, cool blonde with artfully tossed long hair slowly took in Jessica’s hair; it was twisted and lightly secured by a gigantic clip on top of her head. The blonde’s cool, dark brown eyes roamed down Jessica’s sweater, stained a little by the baby’s last feeding. The picture-perfect woman, dressed in an expensive sweater and designer jeans and high-heeled boots, took in Jessica’s paint-stained bib overalls and the hole in her left sock.

“Is Alexi here?” the woman asked in a low, husky tone. “I was told he lived here.”

“He’s at work—”

The woman’s look was disdainful as she looked at the baby and down to wide-eyed Tanya who was clinging onto Jessica’s leg. “The girl definitely isn’t Alexi’s. She’s too old and he was quite busy over three years ago. Are these yours? Are you his—housekeeper?
Is the baby Alexi’s?
”

Jessica adjusted the infant’s flannel blanket around her head. However, Jessica could not adjust her rising temper, and perhaps jealousy, as easily. “It’s too cold at the doorway for the baby. You’ll find Alexi at the Seagull’s Perch.”

“I heard he bought it,” the woman pressed. Behind the carefully emphasized and beautiful eyes, a female shark stirred, ready to bite. “His cousin, Mikhail Stepanov, said I’d find him here. Are you certain he isn’t here? I’m Heather Pell. You may have seen my pictures in magazines—if you read them—or the society pages. We used to be engaged. I married someone else, but now I’m divorced. We—Alexi and I—were very close.”

And we will be again, so make plans to be ousted, baby,
was the underlying statement.

Mikhail always knew what he was doing: it was likely that he sent Heather to the house so she could see Alexi was in
volved with another woman. Jessica didn’t appreciate the favor, not when she was dressed for remodeling and painting.

“No, these aren’t his children and I haven’t seen your picture—anywhere. He’s at the tavern. Thank you for that information. Goodbye.” Jessica closed the door and stood still, stunned by the woman’s sudden appearance.

“Gosh, she’s beautiful,” Tanya said admiringly. Then she sneezed. “She smells yuck.”

“Yes, she is pretty and that ‘smell’ is probably one-thousand-dollars-a-half-ounce of Parisian perfume.” On her way to feed the baby, Jessica saw herself in the mirror—mussed hair, a shiny, clean face; she wore paint-stained bib overalls and eau d’enfant. Only months ago she had looked like a tired, brittle businesswoman trying to conceal the drain on her energy and pushing for more…

Heather Pell was an exciting, gorgeous femme fatale on the hunt. Would Alexi still find her attractive? Of course he would. What man wouldn’t drool at the woman’s sexual power, those long legs, that mass of blond hair?

Heather had hurt Alexi badly. After three years, he was still angry—still moody when Jessica and he had met. Back then, she’d experienced firsthand his bitterness and resentment for women who looked somewhat like Heather.

Jessica couldn’t let that happen to him again.
Jessica had protected a corporation for years. Now she decided to save her lover from a woman who devoured men and cast them aside for a bigger catch.

Her breath caught with the next thought: she’d never been jealous before and she’d just gotten a big, wide, red blast of that unsettling emotion. All because of Alexi.

At closing time Alexi glanced at the woman who had just entered the tavern. He did a double take and knew he was in trouble. Jessica wore that slinky female expression that shielded a determined angry one—if he was reading correctly those narrowed green eyes emphasized by mascara and the glossy set of her lips.

When a man’s intended came strolling in to find another
woman all but spreading herself on the bar in front of him—he was in deep, dangerous water.

Just divorced, Heather had come hunting him for an obvious reunion—she wore the platinum engagement ring that had cost Alexi a small fortune. And she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I’m free now. It was all a mistake and I’m so sorry. We can pick right up where we left off—”

Jessica placed the Amoteh Resort’s wine and dinner basket on a table with a thud and took off her coat. She wore a formfitting, long-sleeved gray sweater and tight black jeans. She gripped the basket and, in her red high heels, walked slowly toward him.

Jessica was dressed to do business of a feminine kind and he wasn’t certain just how this scenario would end.

Across the polished bar from Alexi, Heather wore a slinky, slip-like lacy beige dress that showed her cleavage. She didn’t turn as Jessica walked slowly toward the bar; Alexi had moved behind it, putting distance between Heather’s clinging body and his own.

The click of Jessica’s heels against the floor sounded ominous.

Alexi breathed quietly; either Jessica would believe that he hadn’t touched Heather or she wouldn’t. His pride kept him from saying the same.

“Alexi…Heather,” Jessica said, and Alexi felt the chill rise up his nape.

“Heather was just leaving,” he stated quickly, moving in to defend himself.

Jessica’s smile didn’t go to her eyes. “Your cousin, Mikhail, informed Heather that you might be at home. She came to visit you there. Too bad you were here and she had to walk all the way back to her car and then drive here.”

Alexi groaned silently. Jessica was just getting warmed up. Mikhail would have to pay for sending Heather to the house and not to Alexi first. Jessica might never have known that his ex-fiancée had visited—and exited his life forever.

Heather flashed the diamond ring in front of Jessica. “How does it feel to come in second best?”

“You mean, Alexi?”

“Whatever.”

Alexi inhaled sharply, uncertain of Jessica in this dangerous mood—but he knew that he had to head off trouble between the women. Heather knew how to ruin lives; she knew how to invent situations and tell lies.

Jessica glanced at Alexi and ordered pleasantly, “Stay out of this. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

The tough businesswoman was back and, despite the signs of danger, Alexi had to admire Jessica. He swept out a have-at-it hand, and she nodded.

“You need your butt kicked, Heather,” Jessica said too pleasantly. “You hurt Alexi badly.”

Heather’s smile didn’t reach those cold, sharklike eyes. “You don’t have what it takes to keep a man like Alexi satisfied, little miss housewife.”

“Heather, watch it,” Alexi warned. He was too familiar with Jessica’s green eyes narrowing, with the temper behind them.

“You stay out of this.”