Billionaires: The Daredevil: Claimed for Makarov's Baby / Defying the Billionaire's Command / Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL

Now Erin felt completely wrong-footed. ‘You sound...’

Golden-brown eyebrows winged upwards. ‘What?’

She shrugged, unsure how much to say and unwilling to threaten this tentative truce. But last night seemed to have opened up a new channel of communication and maybe it was time to start dealing permanently in the currency of truth. She’d seen the trouble subterfuge could cause and if their uneasy partnership of shared parentage was to have any kind of future, then they needed to be honest with each another. And if sex was off the agenda, they could concentrate on the other stuff. The important stuff.

But that didn’t stop her from being curious. From wondering what made him tick.

‘You make it sound as if you think every physical relationship will end,’ she said.

‘That’s because they do. And if they survive, they are invariably riddled with infidelity. And there’s no need to look at me quite so disapprovingly, Erin. I’ve never made any secret of my cynicism. You should know that better than anyone.’

‘I do.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s just I’ve never known why.’

‘It wouldn’t take a genius to work it out.’ His voice roughened. ‘Don’t they say that the first relationship you observe is the blueprint for your own life?’

‘You mean your parents weren’t happy?’

‘No, they weren’t,’ he said, but he quickly followed up his answer with another question, as if eager to change the subject. ‘Though I suppose your childhood was all milk and honey and picnics on the weekend?’

‘Well, that’s what my parents were aiming for,’ she said, watching as he picked up his riding crop to twist it between his fingers. ‘Only, my perfect childhood didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. If ever we had picnics, then the sandwiches were jam and the bread was stale, because there was never enough money to go round.’

‘Why not?’

She sighed. ‘Because my parents were impossible romantics. They’ve spent their lives following the demands of their hearts, but never bothered listening to their heads. They live in Australia now. They went there after seeing a documentary on ostrich farming and decided to start up a farm of their own. They were seduced by big blue skies and a hot sun and the idea of being close to the earth—without stopping to think that a little bit of farming experience might be a good idea before they actually channelled all their savings into it.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What happened?’

She shrugged. ‘What everyone told them would happen, only they were too stubborn to pay any attention. They lost all their money and the farm was repossessed—and now my mother has had the bright idea of making silver jewellery, at a time when mass-market products are in the ascendancy, so nobody is buying hers. They are currently travelling around New South Wales in a camper van, selling her wares in markets and barely making enough money to make ends meet.’

He was silent for a minute. ‘And what do these two impossible romantics think of Leo?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Do they mind you having a child out of wedlock? Are they close to their grandson?’

She shook her head. ‘No, they’re not close to him—at least, not geographically. We email and talk via the internet once a week, but it’s not quite the same thing. They can’t afford to come to England and I was only able to afford to fly out there once. That was...’ She hesitated.

His eyes narrowed.

‘That was another reason why you decided to marry Chico, wasn’t it? So that you could afford to visit them more often?’

‘That’s right.’ His perception surprised her. ‘I thought they’d be pleased but they...’

‘They what?’

His unfamiliar interest in her personal life was beguiling, but it was making her think about stuff it was better to avoid. Her parents had wanted her and Tara to marry for love because they believed in love. She did not. She believed in providing security and protection for yourself because love was flaky and unreliable. It made people make stupid, random decisions like going off to the other end of the world, fuelled by nothing but a pipe dream, just as they had done.

But once she had believed in love, hadn’t she? She had been sucked in by that meaningless fairy tale, just like everyone else. She’d misinterpreted her boss’s relaxed attitude towards her and thought it might be something else. Her feelings for him had bubbled away, getting hotter and hotter. By the time he’d kissed her that night in his apartment, all her immunity had gone—and she realised too late that she could never get it back again. Before, she had been Erin his trusted aide...and afterwards?

Afterwards, she had been just another woman he’d bedded. Just another woman he couldn’t wait to see the back of, scrabbling around on the floor to locate her scattered underwear. But at least she had one thing to thank Dimitri for. With one stroke he had effectively destroyed the love myth which had been building up inside her. As she’d walked home that morning, wearing last night’s clothes, she had vowed she would never be like her parents.

Never.

She shook her head. ‘They think that babies should only be the product of love. And even if that patently isn’t true—I don’t want that kind of love.’

‘You don’t want love?’ he echoed slowly. ‘Why not?’

‘Because it takes over your life.’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘I’ve seen what it does to people—the way my parents allowed it to dominate their lives, so that nothing else really mattered. I’ve seen it break hearts and cause jealousy. It’s nothing but a con. A way of justifying desire, that’s all. Now who’s the one looking shocked? What’s the matter, Dimitri? Do you think all women are programmed to lose their hearts to a man?’

He didn’t take the bait. ‘Going back to your parents, do they know I’m the father of your child?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Nobody does, except Tara.’

‘So why not? Why the desire for secrecy? You could have taken the story to the press,’ he observed. ‘You could have earned yourself a nice little payout without having to resort to a sham marriage.’

‘I would never do that,’ she said fiercely. ‘That kind of cheap publicity is the last thing I would inflict on Leo.’

He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘But there was another reason for your discretion, wasn’t there, Erin? Because if you’d gone to the press—I would inevitably have found out and that was something you didn’t want to risk, did you?’

Erin stared at him as the silence seemed to expand the space between them. She heard the hurt and the anger in his voice, knowing both were justified, and the stab at her conscience was almost more than she could bear. ‘You’re right,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I wanted to keep him hidden away from you.’

She hardly dared look at him to see his reaction, but she knew that to avert her gaze would be the act of an emotional coward. She wondered if she had imagined that brief, hard flare of sadness in his eyes, when she had been expecting the full force of his anger.

‘It’s history now,’ he said abruptly as he glanced down at his watch. ‘It’s nearly eight o’clock. Are you coming to watch me ride?’

Erin hesitated. The conversation had left her feeling raw and exposed—but what else was she going to do if he went off to ride with the Sheikh? Sit alone in her suite while crazy thoughts circulated in her head—or take a solitary breakfast while all those silent servants watched her?

‘Only if you promise not to take any unnecessary risks.’

‘Ah! So you do care?’ he taunted.

‘Only because if you’re going to meet Leo, I’d like you to meet him in one piece.’

A sharp rap on the door put an end to any further talk and a robed servant led them through the corridors to the vast stable complex, which was situated on the eastern side of the palace.

The sun was already warm as two grooms led a pair of magnificent stallions out into the yard—one golden and one black. Erin thought they looked like textbook versions of equine perfection with their coats gleaming in the brightness of the morning light. In the far distance she could see the Sheikh making his way towards them, his usual phalanx of servants surrounding him. She noticed that he was wearing his robes, not jodhpurs—and wondered how on earth he could ride in them.

Dimitri moved towards the horses and she watched his every step, wishing she weren’t so shockingly aware of his muscular body and the sun gilding his thick hair. She wasn’t surprised to see him jump onto the golden horse, which seemed to echo his own colouring, but wondered why the two men briefly shook hands before the king mounted his own ebony stallion. For a few moments she watched as they trotted the horses round and round the yard. Dimitri was clearly trying to gauge the temperament of his mount and even a novice like Erin could see that the animal was powerful and strong. A flicker of apprehension ran down her spine. He’d given her all that spiel about having learned to ride in the Russian army and how brilliant the teaching had been, but he hadn’t actually mentioned how long ago it was since he’d last ridden.

She could see the Sheikh leaning across to say something to him and the quick flash of anticipation in Dimitri’s eyes made Erin stiffen. Because she knew that look. It was the same look he used to wear when poised on the brink of some monumental deal. The same look which usually heralded a long night spent drinking, or playing cards. It was a reckless look, edged with danger, and it took her right back to a place where she used to be frozen with fear, just wondering what the hell he was going to do next and imagining the worst.

She knew then that he had just accepted a challenge from the Sheikh—who just happened to be one of the world’s most accomplished horsemen. The stupid fool was going to race against a man with way more experience than himself.

Her first thought was one of anger, because he’d told her he’d changed. He’d said he’d become Mr Respectable and she knew now why she’d found it so hard to believe. Because it wasn’t true. Respectable men didn’t race a temperamental thoroughbred they’d never ridden before, did they? They didn’t take their life in their hands—especially when they hadn’t even met the son they’d made so much fuss about meeting.

She wanted to dash over to stop them and she did actually take a step forward before sanity prevailed. Because what good could she do in a land where the king was hell-bent on racing a man desperate to buy some of his oil fields? Did she really think that either Dimitri or Saladin would listen to her?

She watched as they lined the two horses up at the edge of the gallops, sensing the excitement in the restless stallions as they strained forward. Suddenly, one of the servants fired a loud starting pistol but barely had Erin recovered from her startled reaction, when the two men took off at a furious pace.

Barely able to breathe, she watched as they galloped past, two gleaming streaks of ebony and gold—their hooves pounding the ground like thunder. The Sheikh was ahead by a margin which was gradually increasing and for a moment she thought that Dimitri was going to do the sensible thing and just let him win. But she hadn’t factored in his highly competitive nature. She could see the determination on his face as he pressed his thighs hard into the animal’s flanks and she could read the hungry tension in the Russian’s body as he crouched over the horse and urged it forward.

He was coming up closer to the man ahead of him, and then closer still. He had almost caught up with the king of Jazratan as they rounded the bend but now both horses were going at a breakneck pace. Please just let him be safe, prayed Erin as waves of emotion too complex to comprehend twisted her heart and stomach into knots.

The two men were now almost neck and neck and Erin saw the Sheikh glance over at the Russian as he tightened his own reins. She could see the strain and exhilaration on both their faces as they urged their mounts on. She could see the servants at the finishing line trying to position themselves, crouching down in an attempt to visually work out what was going to be a photo finish.

But as they approached the line the Sheikh’s horse reared up as if something had spooked it and to Erin’s horror she saw Saladin slipping down the side of the horse, as if in slow motion.

For one heart-stopping moment she thought the king was about to disappear under the pounding hooves to certain death when Dimitri drew close to the frightened animal. Collision seemed inevitable and Erin froze as the Russian reached out, somehow anchoring Saladin to the ebony horse while grabbing the other reins and managing to bring both animals to a shaky halt. Her knees grew weak. She felt the rush of relief, which was quickly replaced by one of anxiety as she saw the look of pain which briefly distorted Dimitri’s features as he held on to the Sheikh as if his life depended on it.

And then grooms, servants, bodyguards came running out from the yard towards the two men and all hell broke loose.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I’VE NEVER SEEN anything so reckless. Or so...so...stupid,’ said Erin, her voice trembling with rage and fear as she held a golden goblet to Dimitri’s parched lips. ‘Here. Drink this.’

From his prone position on the velvet divan, Dimitri winced. ‘What’s in it?’

‘Nothing stronger than water. And it’s good for you. Which I suppose means you don’t want it.’

He winced a little as he shifted his position on the divan. ‘Are you angry with me, Erin?’

‘Too right I am.’ Unwanted emotions were exploding like fireworks inside her and she gritted her teeth as she registered the ashen colour of his face. ‘You could have died out there!’

‘But I didn’t.’

‘That’s not the point,’ she said stubbornly.

They were back in the palace after an incident which had clearly rocked all the spectators and left everyone in the palace reeling as they considered how much worse it could have been, if Dimitri hadn’t prevented Saladin from falling beneath the hooves of the galloping horse. But the Sheikh had emerged from the incident unscathed and it was Dimitri who was hurt. Dimitri who had winced with pain after the doctor had examined him and ordered a full-body X-ray. With Erin at his side he had been taken to the nearby hospital and given the all-clear, but the bruising was bad and he’d been told to take it easy.

Erin had stuck to his side like glue and accompanied him back to his suite and soon after their arrival Saladin had turned up, still in the same robes he’d worn while riding. His face and hair had been covered in fine dust and he had looked dark and very sombre—but his gratitude had been heartfelt as he’d thanked Dimitri.

‘I owe you,’ he had said in a low voice. ‘I owe you my life. And that means that we are now as brothers. Do you realise that, my friend?’ And then he had embraced the Russian with a powerful bear hug, which had made Dimitri wince again, before sweeping out, his retinue following closely behind.

‘You told me that you didn’t do that whole danger thing any more,’ Erin accused as she held the goblet of water to Dimitri’s lips and made him drink another mouthful. ‘You said you were respectable these days. You made out like you were a changed man. That you didn’t drink vodka any more—’

‘Which I don’t.’

‘Or embrace danger just for the sake of it.’

‘Which I don’t.’

‘Oh, really?’ She glared at him. ‘So what was that all about out there? How long since you’ve ridden?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘So what made you think you could take on one of the most celebrated horsemen in the world and win?’

‘I did win.’

Erin glared. ‘Only because the Sheikh nearly fell.’

‘Exactly.’ Dimitri stretched his long legs in front of him and through his half-closed eyes he subjected her to a mocking stare. ‘And if I hadn’t stopped to assist him, then I would have won by a much greater margin. We both know that.’

‘Why accept the challenge in the first place when anyone else would have defined it as reckless?’

‘Because I wanted to,’ he said flatly. ‘And because I’m doing business with a powerful man who might have considered it a sign of weakness if I had refused, thus putting the deal in jeopardy.’

‘Your business deals are more important than your life, are they, Dimitri?’

‘They are important,’ he said, his voice suddenly cooling. ‘They are a quantifiable success, unlike most other things in life.’

There was a soft rap on the door and Erin walked across the room to answer it, frustration simmering away inside her. Who was it this time? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone and let him recover?

She didn’t know who she expected to find but she was surprised to see a robed woman standing on the threshold—maybe because this was the only other woman she’d seen since she’d arrived in Jazratan. Petite and slender and wearing a silvery veil, which provided the perfect backdrop for her lustrous ebony hair, she was holding a small pot in her hands. Rather surprisingly, her smile was confident and she didn’t appear in the least bit shy.

‘The Sheikh has sent me,’ she said, in the loveliest accent Erin had ever heard. ‘To minister to the esteemed Russian who today risked his life to save our beloved monarch.’

Erin’s hackles started rising; she couldn’t help herself. Was she imagining the gleam in the woman’s doe-like eyes or the anticipatory curve of her soft smile as she looked over towards where Dimitri lay on the divan? A whisper of apprehension washed over her skin. No, she was not.

‘What do you mean, “minister”?’ she questioned, more sharply than she had intended.

The woman’s smile grew serene. ‘This rare cream has many healing properties,’ she said softly. ‘It is made from the fire berries which grow in the foothills of the mountains to the far north of our country and after I have applied it the Sheikh’s saviour will feel no more pain, and the bruising on his skin will disappear as if by magic.’

Erin wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or just a powerful sense of something territorial, but she knew that no way was this gorgeous young creature going to start slapping cream all over Dimitri’s chest. A thought occurred to her. It came out of nowhere but for some reason it stuck firmly in her mind and wouldn’t seem to budge. Did Saladin realise that she and the Russian weren’t having sex—had Dimitri told him that? And was he sending this luscious woman to Dimitri’s suite as some primitive way of thanking him? Nothing would surprise her about an autocratic king like Saladin, who ruled a country where the opposite sex seemed almost invisible.

Coolly, she removed the pot from the woman’s hands and smiled at her. ‘Thank you so much for taking the time to bring this, and please convey our deepest gratitude to His Royal Highness,’ she said. ‘But I think Dimitri would prefer me to minister it.’

She closed the door in the woman’s startled face and turned around to see the faintest glint of humour lighting Dimitri’s eyes, before he winced again—as if it hurt to attempt to smile.

‘You meant it, didn’t you?’ he said weakly as she began to walk across the room towards him. ‘You’re going to apply the cream yourself.’

‘I did,’ she said. ‘And I am.’

‘Be gentle with me, Erin.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘The look on your face does not suggest gentleness.’

Putting the fire-berry potion down on a table beside the divan, she began to unbutton his silky riding shirt, aware that it was clinging like damp tissue paper to the sweat-sheened muscles. She told herself that this was exactly the reason why she had gained a first-aid certificate and remembered the need to remain completely impartial. To treat him as she would treat anyone else requiring medical assistance. But the moment she began to massage the cream into the honed torso, she understood the challenge that impartiality presented. Dimitri’s eyes were fully open now and there was a mocking light in their depths, as if they were asking a silent question which she didn’t dare interpret—let alone answer.

Her fingers slid over his chest. It was sheer torture to touch him with this near-intimacy, even though she was doing her best to concentrate on the healing aspect and not on how delicious it felt to glide the cream over hard muscle covered by silky skin. But when he shifted his jodhpur-covered groin, it took all her determination not to be distracted by the distinct bulge there. Yet she couldn’t look away, could she? She couldn’t just stare at the wall. Instead, she focused intently on the bruises he had suffered and not the soft sigh which escaped from between his parted lips.

She continued to massage him, working intently and silently until she saw some of the tension leave his body. She put the pot down and went off to wash the cream from her hands but when she returned to the divan, she stared at his torso with a feeling of disbelief.

‘Good grief,’ she said faintly. ‘Just look at that.’

Erin had spent years working for Dimitri, but she’d never seen that look of genuine astonishment on his face before, as he followed the direction of her gaze. And no wonder—for the bruises had reduced dramatically. The livid purple marks which had stained the golden skin had faded several shades lighter.

His eyes narrowed. ‘What the hell happened? Did you wave a magic wand or something?’

She could see the flicker of a pulse at his temple. She saw the gleam of his torso and suddenly her throat grew dry. ‘It must have been the potion,’ she managed.

His gaze mocked her. ‘Is that what it was?’

Erin stood there, knowing she ought to get the hell out of there while she still could, but something was keeping her rooted there—as if her feet had been superglued to the spot. Her heart began to pound. Was it the magnificence of touching his half-naked body after all this time, or just the memory of how it had felt when he was deep inside her? She shook her head slightly, trying to erase the image from her mind, only the image was stubbornly refusing to budge. She swallowed. ‘Perhaps you need to rest now.’

‘Perhaps I do.’

He stretched out on the divan, his body outlined against the rich velvet and brocade cushions, but she noticed that his eyes were only half closed. She could see the icy glint of blue from between the thick lashes and she felt as if he was observing her. Watching her. Waiting to see what she would do next. She knew she ought to turn and walk away from him. She knew a lot of things, but the thing she knew above everything else was that she wanted to kiss him. To lose herself in his arms and shudder with pleasure. And it wasn’t going to happen. She swallowed. There was a whole stack of reasons why intimacy would be a bad thing, and none of those had changed. But she was still standing there, wasn’t she? Standing there feeling conflicted while she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and longed for what she knew she shouldn’t have.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ she questioned stiffly.

He gave a slow, watchful smile. ‘Like what?’

The tension shimmering between them was now so intense that Erin felt as if a single word or movement would shatter it, but his expression gave nothing away. He was a contradiction, she realised. He was stubborn and proud and angry with her for keeping Leo hidden from him, but he still wanted her. She could read it in the smoky smoulder of his blue eyes and the tension in his body. He wanted her, but he wasn’t going to act on it. Instinct told her the next step was all down to her. That the ball was in her court. She had turned him down last night and his pride would not allow him to be turned down again. If she wanted him, then she was going to have to reach out to him. Still she hesitated, because wasn’t this yet another way of Dimitri exercising his power over her?

‘I think you’ve had enough rehydration and fire-berry potion for the time being, so I’ll let you rest,’ she said, even though the words felt as if they might strangle her.