Paul. I practically raised Hillary for him, and I didn’t do a very good job. And so help me, I still love her and I’m fighting to keep Tanyafrom being messed up like my sister and myself. So I’m not feeling up to you this morning, Mikhail.”
“Shut up.” The command was unexpected, fierce.
She turned on him, hands clenched into fists. “You’re so like him.”
“Am I?” His answer was too quiet, so quiet, she could hear water drip from a stack of driftwood…plop, plop…
This morning, in the intimate dawn, he was even taller and more ominous than in his resort. A muscle clenched in his jaw, covered by stubble. His usually well groomed hair was waving, beaded with mist. His eyes were narrowed, dark gleaming pinpoints that burned her face, looked inside her fears and tore them out of her….
“I have to get work, Mikhail,” she said unsteadily. “I’m going to wire a friend for money—just enough to get us out of here. All I’m asking is two or three days in which you don’t call Paul.”
He was silent and she frowned. “I’m sorry that I’m too tired and on edge and that I can’t give Tanya what she needs, a wonderful home like your parents’, or like Jarek and Leigh’s. Not just now. But I will. I thought about it, and it just won’t work here. Hillary is one thing and Paul another, and together they are cruel, selfish people. I can’t risk what they could do to Tanya if you turned us in.”
Mikhail’s dark look took in her hunched shoulders and ripped down her body, heating it oddly, and then back up to her face. “You’re shivering and you’re wet.”
She laughed unsteadily, resenting the panic that had slipped through her. “Life has been hectic for the last six months. I had to have time to think this morning, Mikhail. Alone. You’re in my personal space, buddy. Shove off.”
“It’s a public beach, and not all that crowded either,” he said slowly, studying her.
He was standing too close and whatever pulsed hot and alive between them hitched up a notch until it burned Ellie’s skin and her senses tingled. “ You’re crowding me.”
“There’s always that between us, isn’t there?” he asked quietly as if to himself.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
But she knew exactly. If Mikhail was within striking distance, she had to tear at him, taunt him, anything to shake through that control. “If you weren’t so afraid—”
Now the fog seemed to stop moving, and the world stilled around them. “Of what am I afraid?” he asked very slowly.
The need to lash out at him was too strong. Right now, she was on edge and frightened for Tanya, and regretting that she had stripped her pride for a man who wasn’t likely to help her. Ellie ripped off her jacket’s hood and lifted her face to the damp mist. She didn’t want to let him into her inner thoughts, especially concerning him. “Forget it.”
“I am not afraid of Paul.”
“I know. You’re a match for him. He admires you. That’s why I thought—”
The mist seemed to hover, still and alert between them as Mikhail spoke quietly, “Then, of what am I afraid?”
What did anything matter now that she had bared her fears to him and had asked him for help? She might as well serve him a reality check—her opinion of him as a sensitive man. “Look. Your love life is no concern of mine. I haven’t got time or energy for your problems. But here it is—you got married, you got hurt and now you’ve wrapped yourself up in that resort so you’ll never be touched by life—and love. Oh, you love your family, of course, but you’ve sworn off women. You’re afraid to get involved. Anyone can see that.”
“Can they?” Mikhail asked darkly, studying her with that close, burning intensity that seemed to make the sand shiver beneath her sodden shoes. The waves seemed to slow and stop, the fog still and intimate, and Ellie could only hear the sound of her quickening heartbeat.
Then with a rough, reluctant sigh,
“Shut up.” The command was unexpected, fierce.
She turned on him, hands clenched into fists. “You’re so like him.”
“Am I?” His answer was too quiet, so quiet, she could hear water drip from a stack of driftwood…plop, plop…
This morning, in the intimate dawn, he was even taller and more ominous than in his resort. A muscle clenched in his jaw, covered by stubble. His usually well groomed hair was waving, beaded with mist. His eyes were narrowed, dark gleaming pinpoints that burned her face, looked inside her fears and tore them out of her….
“I have to get work, Mikhail,” she said unsteadily. “I’m going to wire a friend for money—just enough to get us out of here. All I’m asking is two or three days in which you don’t call Paul.”
He was silent and she frowned. “I’m sorry that I’m too tired and on edge and that I can’t give Tanya what she needs, a wonderful home like your parents’, or like Jarek and Leigh’s. Not just now. But I will. I thought about it, and it just won’t work here. Hillary is one thing and Paul another, and together they are cruel, selfish people. I can’t risk what they could do to Tanya if you turned us in.”
Mikhail’s dark look took in her hunched shoulders and ripped down her body, heating it oddly, and then back up to her face. “You’re shivering and you’re wet.”
She laughed unsteadily, resenting the panic that had slipped through her. “Life has been hectic for the last six months. I had to have time to think this morning, Mikhail. Alone. You’re in my personal space, buddy. Shove off.”
“It’s a public beach, and not all that crowded either,” he said slowly, studying her.
He was standing too close and whatever pulsed hot and alive between them hitched up a notch until it burned Ellie’s skin and her senses tingled. “ You’re crowding me.”
“There’s always that between us, isn’t there?” he asked quietly as if to himself.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
But she knew exactly. If Mikhail was within striking distance, she had to tear at him, taunt him, anything to shake through that control. “If you weren’t so afraid—”
Now the fog seemed to stop moving, and the world stilled around them. “Of what am I afraid?” he asked very slowly.
The need to lash out at him was too strong. Right now, she was on edge and frightened for Tanya, and regretting that she had stripped her pride for a man who wasn’t likely to help her. Ellie ripped off her jacket’s hood and lifted her face to the damp mist. She didn’t want to let him into her inner thoughts, especially concerning him. “Forget it.”
“I am not afraid of Paul.”
“I know. You’re a match for him. He admires you. That’s why I thought—”
The mist seemed to hover, still and alert between them as Mikhail spoke quietly, “Then, of what am I afraid?”
What did anything matter now that she had bared her fears to him and had asked him for help? She might as well serve him a reality check—her opinion of him as a sensitive man. “Look. Your love life is no concern of mine. I haven’t got time or energy for your problems. But here it is—you got married, you got hurt and now you’ve wrapped yourself up in that resort so you’ll never be touched by life—and love. Oh, you love your family, of course, but you’ve sworn off women. You’re afraid to get involved. Anyone can see that.”
“Can they?” Mikhail asked darkly, studying her with that close, burning intensity that seemed to make the sand shiver beneath her sodden shoes. The waves seemed to slow and stop, the fog still and intimate, and Ellie could only hear the sound of her quickening heartbeat.
Then with a rough, reluctant sigh,
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