Cait London - Instinctive Male

“When I have decided.”

That arrogance grated; she had stripped away her pride, coming to him, asking for his help, and now he held her on tenterhooks, just as Paul would do. The men were too much alike, hard, impenetrable and looking for what a bargain could do for them.

And looking up at Mikhail from her vulnerable position in bed did little to soothe the nerves he had always scraped. Ellie clamped her lips against the words she wanted to let fly at him, and Mikhail’s narrowed eyes said he had read her silent message.

He reached to push a button on the wall intercom. “Georgia? Would you come here, please? There is a little girl who wants to meet you. Perhaps she would like to see your kitchen and eat those croissants you’ve just made. And please put together a breakfast tray for two, please—a carafe of coffee? I’ll be having breakfast in here with the girl’s…mother.”

“You could leave and give me a moment of privacy,” Ellie whispered in a furious tone she didn’t bother to disguise.

“No. You’re the one asking, not me. I would advise you to be civilized and to wait until the child is out of hearing distance before you yell.”

“Me? Civilized? Don’t you dare—”

Mikhail’s smile was brief and contained genuine humor, a notice that he had once more scored a hit. Then ignoring Ellie’s frown, he walked to crouch beside Tanya, explaining the collection of shells in the pottery bowl.

Georgia, a plump woman wearing a white apron and a hairnet that crossed her forehead, arrived with the tray. Mikhail replaced the previous tray with the fresh one, and the scent of aromatic coffee and fresh croissants cruised the room.

In a heartbeat, Georgia had won Tanya’s confidence, and they left the showroom, leaving Ellie alone with Mikhail. He poured two cups of coffee from the carafe and leaned against a tall dresser, watching her.

Watching her like a big predator, assessing, waiting. She could feel him trying to put her together, like a puzzle. Then there was something else in him, brooding and male and resentful.

That look pushed all her buttons, her anger leaping. He’d seen her without her pride, inferred her poverty by the hole in her briefs. Ellie sprung from the bed, tossing back the covers. “Tanya is not used to very many people, and I don’t like you taking control of her. She gets frightened when she’s away from me too long.”

“And you resent that she isn’t in your control, dependent upon you. She isn’t a baby. She’s a young child with a natural need to have playmates other than you.”

That Tanya could be swayed so easily did bother Ellie. She walked to the tray and took the coffee cup he offered, splashed with the Amoteh’s strawberry logo. “I know she needs playmates. But we haven’t had time to settle in before they found us and we had to move again.”

“You’re angry with me. Why?”

Because he looked too rugged, as if he could withstand any fight, and because—“Do you think I actually like asking you for help? You’re determined to make me squirm, before you turn me down. Oh, I know the routine. Paul likes to play that game.”

She was shaking with anger, the scenes with her father too familiar. He would ask all the questions, make her answer, and then, when he was tired, he refused her needs. The whole process had served to humiliate her, even as a child. Emotional baggage? Yes, but she couldn’t allow that treatment again.

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