Free Instinctive Male by Cait London Page B

pancakes, he could feel Ellie thinking, tick-tock. She ate slowly, methodically, and then, as if sensing her mother was upset, Tanya came to sit on her lap. “You kissed my mommy,” she accused Mikhail, frowning at him. “Why?”
    “It’s a thing people do when they like each other,” Mikhail said gently.
    “A man tried to kiss her once like that, and she hit him and made him go away. He didn’t like me and she said she didn’t like him anymore, but they were married once. He wanted her, but not me, and she said it was ‘a package deal.’ She said I was more important than anyone like him.”
    “But I like you.” Mikhail bent slightly to kiss the little girl, who obviously needed reassurance. When he offered his arms, Tanya came into them, snuggling sweetly against him and sitting on his lap.
    With her little body cuddled against him, Mikhail knew that he would do his best to protect her from Hillary and Paul. In Ellie’s place, he would have done the same thing.
    “Here,” Tanya said, offering her doll, which he cradled in his other arm.
    Over Tanya’s head, Mikhail met Ellie’s soft gray eyes. Sadness lurked there, and fear that tore at Mikhail’s heart. He couldn’t bear to see her fight alone, and he knew the cold, cruel and treacherous dangers of Paul and Hillary.
    “So are you coming to work for me or not?” he asked gently as he slid a finger through Ellie’s hair, wrapping the silky length around his finger and studying the naturally sun-lightened shades.
    He saw no reason to hide his fascination with her from his family. The Stepanovs did not keep secrets, they freely shared their moods and feelings with each other.
    “Absolutely not. You’re a disaster.”
    Her snit delighted him—they both knew that kiss had changed the war to a different level, a sensual one, tit-for-tat, hunger meeting hunger. “Think about it.”
    She arched an eyebrow. “And did you check out my references?” she asked tauntingly, referring to the list of places she and Tanya had lived in the last six months.
    “Of course.” It was a sad trail, from small cabins to motels, from one job to another, and Mikhail realized how much it had cost Ellie to finally come to him.
    She turned to look at the pancakes Fadey had placed in her plate, slathering them with butter. Fadey patted her shoulder. “Eat. Mikhail has offered you a job. You have a warm home for your child and good food. We are family. We laugh, we love. How much better can life be?”
    Ellie did not look up, and her hand shook slightly as she lifted her fork. “I’ll think about it.”
    A child needing reassurance when her parent was troubled, Tanya eased into Ellie’s arms. She cuddled the little girl close, kissing her hair, and Tanya’s small hand stroked Ellie’s face. “What’s wrong, Mama? Don’t you like it here? You get that sad look when we have to leave.”
    Ellie kissed Tanya’s hand and rocked her. “You’d like to stay, wouldn’t you, pumpkin?”
    “I want to be with you,” Tanya stated firmly, and pressed her face against Ellie’s throat, her arms tight in a hug.
    “Always,” Ellie whispered adamantly, her voice uneven.
    Mikhail couldn’t resist smoothing Ellie’s shoulders, comforting her. She had fought alone long enough.
    A man deeply touched and his emotions visible, Fadey sniffed just once and roughly wiped his eyes with his napkin. “This little girl says she doesn’t know her grandpa. While I am sure he is a fine man, I would like to be her grandpa, too. What do you think, eh, little one? I need some little girls to sit on my lap and to hug. Poor Fadey. Grandpa Fadey, eh? That is what you call me, eh, Tanya?” he asked cheerfully.
    Clearly excited, Tanya remained where she was, looking at Ellie, who nodded. With a whoop, the little girl squirmed out of her lap and ran to Fadey’s open arms. “Grandpa Fadey!”
    “Hey. And Grandma Mary Jo, of course.”
    “Of course,” Tanya said with Stepanov-like arrogance.