“I’m the mother. The legal birth mother. I get to make the decisions.”

The eyes he’d been admiring only minutes earlier gleamed in a way that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

“So I have the final say in who will adopt the baby,” she continued, “and it won’t be an arrogant, unmarried Russian millionaire!”

“Billionaire,” he corrected gently, and watched her smolder even as his own anger bubbled.

“The amount of money you have doesn’t change a darn thing. She’s going to a couple—a family who wants her, who will love her. That’s what I intended when I agreed to be a surrogate for Keira, and that’s what I still want for her. End of story.”

A challenge had been issued. And he fully intended to meet it.

Ruthlessly suppressing his own hot rage, he murmured, “Well then, it seems I’ll just have to get married.”

It had been worth the temporary flare of temper. Yevgeny watched with supreme satisfaction as Ella’s mouth dropped open.

War, Yevgeny suspected, had been declared.

Dear Reader,

When the year is drawing to a close, but the new year has not yet arrived, Christmas should be the time to spend with family and friends.

But it doesn’t always happen that way. And that’s the case for Ella, the heroine of Staking His Claim, who looks all set to spend the holiday all by herself—yet she hasn’t even considered that she will be alone. She’s been too busy working to think much about her own happiness.

Then a baby and a tall, dark hero called Yevgeny change everything. And poor Ella faces the hardest choices she’s ever had to make.

For Ella and Yevgeny, the holiday becomes a time of hope, new beginnings—and a new life together.

I hope you enjoy Ella and Yevgeny’s story as much as I enjoyed piecing it all together.

With love,

Tessa Radley

www.tessaradley.com

PS Don’t forget to friend me on Facebook!

About the Author

TESSA RADLEY loves traveling, reading and watching the world around her. As a teen, Tessa wanted to be an intrepid foreign correspondent. But after completing a bachelor of arts degree and marrying her sweetheart, she became fascinated by law and ended up studying further and practicing as an attorney in a city firm.

A six-month break spent traveling through Australia with her family rewoke the yen to write. And life as a writer suits her perfectly—traveling and reading count as research, and as for analyzing the world… well, she can think “what if?” all day long. When she’s not reading, traveling or thinking about writing, she’s spending time with her husband, her two sons or her zany and wonderful friends. You can contact Tessa through her website, www.tessaradley.com.

Staking His Claim
Tessa Radley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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One

“You’ve decided to do what?”

It was Friday afternoon, the end of a grueling workweek, and Ella McLeod desperately wanted to put up her swollen feet… and relax.

Instead, from the depths of the sofa in her town house living room, Ella bit back the rest of the explosive reaction that threatened to erupt. She hoped wildly that her sister’s next words would settle her world back on its axis so that the nasty jolt of shock reverberating through her system might just evaporate.

As if the sight of Ella’s swollen belly prodded her conscience, Keira’s gaze skittered away and she had the good grace to look discomforted. “Dmitri and I have decided to go to Africa for a year.”

Ella shifted to ease the nagging ache in her lower back that had started earlier at the law chambers. Keeping her attention fixed on her sister fidgeting on the opposite end of the sofa, she said, “Yes, I understood that part—you and Dmitri plan to work for an international aid charity.”

Her younger sister’s gaze crept back, already glimmering with relief. “Oh, Ella, I knew you’d understand! You always do.”

Not this time. Clearly Keira thought this was a done deal. It was rapidly becoming clear why Keira had dropped in this evening. And Ella had thought her sister’s anticipation about the baby’s imminent arrival had driven the surprise visit….

How wrong she’d been!

Gathering herself, Ella said slowly, “I don’t quite understand the rest. What about the baby?”

The baby.

The baby in her belly that Keira had been so desperate for. Keira’s baby. A baby girl. Keira and Dmitri had been present at the twenty-week ultrasound when the baby’s sex had been revealed. Afterward the pair had gone shopping to finish buying furnishings for a nursery suitable for a baby girl.

Yet now that very same baby girl suddenly appeared to have ceased to be the focus of her sister’s universe.

“Well—” Keira wet her lips “—obviously the baby can’t come with.”

It wasn’t obvious at all.

“Why not?” Ella wasn’t letting Keira wriggle out of her responsibilities so easily. Not this time. This wasn’t the course of expensive French lessons Keira had grown tired of… or the fledgling florist business that Ella had sunk money into so that Keira would have a satisfying career when the one she’d chosen had become impossible. This was the baby Keira had always dreamed of one day having.

When Keira bit her lip and tears welled up in her eyes, a familiar guilt consumed Ella. Before she could relent—as she always did—she said, “Keira, there’s no reason why the baby can’t go with you. I’m sure you’ll find people in Africa will have babies.”

The tears swelled into big, shiny drops. “What if the baby becomes ill? Or dies? Ella, it’s not as if this is a five-star beach resort. This is aid work in a poverty-stricken part of Africa.”

Refusing to be drawn into her sister’s dramatics, Ella leaned forward and tore a tissue from the box on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa, then passed it to Keira.

“Do you even know what kind of infrastructure exists? You could ask whether a baby would be safe.” But Ella suspected she was fighting a losing battle when Keira failed to answer. She tried again. “If it’s so unsafe, then what about your own health? Your safety? Have you and Dmitri thought this through? Do you really want to be living in a war zone?”

“It’s not a war zone,” Keira denied hotly. The tears had miraculously evaporated without a dab from the tissue that drifted to the carpet. “Credit me with some sense. It’s Malawi. The country is stable—the people are friendly. It’s poverty and illiteracy that we will be fighting.”

So much for Keira’s claim that it would be impossible to take a child there. But Ella knew she’d lost the battle; Keira had already made up her mind—the baby was not going with her.

“So what will happen to the baby?”

Silence.

Keira’s eyes turned pleading, just like those of Patches, the beloved spaniel from their childhood.

“No! It is not staying with me.” Ella made it a statement. A firm statement. The kind she used when delivering an ultimatum to opposing counsel.

Keira opened her mouth.

The baby chose that moment to kick.

Ella squeezed her eyes shut and suppressed a gasp at the hard jab against her ribs. Perspiration pricked at her forehead. She rubbed her side.

Thrusting the pain away, she opened her eyes and said to her sister, “Have you spoken to Jo about your new plans?” Ella suspected Jo Wells, the social worker who had been involved in helping arrange the paperwork side of the adoption for Keira and Dmitri, would be as floored as she was by Keira’s change of heart.

“Dmitri is right. We’re too young to become parents,” Keira said, sidestepping Ella’s question. “We haven’t even been married a year.”

Drawing a deep breath, Ella said slowly, “A bit late to come to the conclusion that you’re not ready to be parents.”

Nine months too late to be precise.

Ella patted her own swollen stomach and watched mercilessly as Keira flushed.

“This baby is due next week. All your life you wanted to get married, start a family… that’s why you did an early childcare course.” It was why Ella was now stuck across the sofa from her sister like a stranded whale with a bulging belly. “How can you walk away from your child now?”

She had a nasty suspicion that she knew what—or rather, who—was behind the change of heart. Dmitri’s big brother. Yevgeny Volkovoy.

Bossy big brother. Billionaire. Bigot.

Ella couldn’t stand the man. He’d been furious to discover that Dmitri had gotten married without his say-so. He’d caused poor Keira endless tears with his terrifying tirades. Only by signing a post-nuptial agreement that allowed Keira the barest of maintenance in the case of divorce, and skewed everything in favor of the Volkovoy dynasty had Keira escaped his ire. Ella’d had a fit when she’d learned about the contract—and her alarm had grown when she read the terms. But by then it had been too late. The marriage was a done deal.

And Keira hadn’t asked her for her expertise… or her help.

Of course, Yevgeny hadn’t been in favor of the baby plan, either. Ella had known from the moment he’d switched to Russian. Dmitri had gone bright red—clearly he’d been less happy with Big Brother’s opinions.

Now it sounded like Big Brother had finally gotten his way and managed to persuade Dmitri that he wasn’t ready to become a parent.

Shifting again to ease her body’s increasing discomfort, Ella tried to stem the emotions that were swirling around inside her. Disbelief. Confusion. The beginnings of anger. None of this cocktail of emotions could be good for the baby. And, even though Ella had never had any intentions of having her own child, she’d taken great care of this one. She’d eaten well—going to great lengths to cut out her four-cups-a-day coffee habit—she’d even shortened her workday and made certain she’d been in bed by ten o’clock each night. She’d even taught herself to meditate so that the baby wouldn’t be contaminated by her stressful workday thoughts.

All because she’d wanted to make sure the baby was perfect. Her gift to Keira.

A gift Keira was now returning. Unborn, rather than unwrapped.

How did one return a baby, for heaven’s sake? A baby that was a week away from becoming a live person?

Which brought Ella to…

“You’re not leaving for Africa before the baby is born.” She made it a statement. “There will be decisions that have to be made before you go.”

Panic turned Keira’s eyes opaque. “No! I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t handle those decisions. We’ve already booked our tickets. You’ll need to make the arrangements.”

“Me?” Drawing a deep shuddering breath, Ella went cold. “Keira, this is a baby we’re talking about—you can’t just walk away.”

Her sister’s gaze dropped pointedly to Ella’s very round stomach. “You’re still the legal mother—the adoption doesn’t kick in until twelve days after the baby’s born. You know that, Ella. Because you told me so yourself.”

Of course she knew it. Knowing stuff like that was part of her job as one of the most respected family lawyers in Auckland. But the knowledge was only just starting to sink in that Keira was planning to leave her holding the baby!

“Oh, no!” Shaking her head, Ella said emphatically, “The only reason I lent you my body was so that you could have the baby you always dreamed of having. This is your dream, Keira. Your baby.” My nightmare. Then, in case it hadn’t sunk in, she added pointedly, “Yours and Dmitri’s.”

“It’s your egg.”

“Only because you can’t—” Ella bit off the words she’d been about to utter.

Too late.

Keira had gone white.

Driven by remorse, Ella propelled her colossal self from the sofa and reached for Keira. Her sister was as stiff as a wooden block in her arms. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s the truth.” Keira’s voice was flat. “I don’t have eggs or a uterus—I can’t have children.”

“So why—” Ella almost bit her tongue off. She tightened her hold around her sister.

“Don’t worry, you can ask. No, I’ll ask for you. ‘Why are you doing this? Why are you going to Africa without the baby?’ That’s what you really want to know, isn’t it?”

Ella inclined her head.

“I’m not sure I can explain.” Keira shrugged out of her hold.

Given no choice, Ella let her sister go.

While Keira gathered her thoughts, Ella became aware of the stark silence that stretched to the breaking point between them across the length of the sofa. A silent divide. It might as well have been the blue-green of the Indian Ocean that stretched beyond Australia all the way to Africa that yawned between them… because her sister had already retreated mentally farther than the arm’s length that separated them.

Then Keira started to speak. “This is something both Dmitri and I have to do.” The blank, flat stare she fixed on Ella was a little unnerving. “I have to find myself, Ella. Find out who I am. All my life I wanted to teach little children—and have my own houseful of kids at home.” Her eyes grew more bleak. “But things didn’t go according to plan.”

“Keira—”

“I loved my job at Little Ducks Center—”

“Keira.” The pain in her sister’s voice was unbearable.

“Don’t!”

But Keira carried on as if she hadn’t heard. “I couldn’t work there after the car accident… after I found out the truth—that there never would be any babies.”

“Oh, honey—”

Keira ducked away from Ella’s enfolding arms.

An unwelcome sense of rejection filled Ella. Followed by emptiness. Instantly she scolded herself for her selfishness. She shouldn’t feel hurt. Keira was suffering.

Yet, despite all her empathy for her sister, the most important question still remained unanswered: What about the baby? The baby I helped create to fulfill your dream? “But Keira, you will have a baby now—and you have a husband who loves you.”

Wasn’t that enough?

Eyes softening, Keira admitted, “Yes, I was very, very fortunate to find Dmitri.”

Ella hadn’t been so sure of that in the beginning. In fact, she’d foreseen nothing but heartbreak ahead for her sister. The arrival of Yevgeny Volkovoy in Auckland had been big news. Not satisfied with inheriting millions from the hotel empire his father had built up, the Russian had expanded the dynasty by building up the best river cruise operation in Russia. In the past few years he’d expanded into ocean cruise liners. With the planned expansion of Auckland’s cruise ship terminal, it was not surprising to learn that Yevgeny intended to secure Auckland as a voyage destination. What had been surprising had been learning through the newspapers that the Russian had fallen in love with New Zealand—and planned to relocate himself permanently. He’d sent his brother to New Zealand to secure corporate offices and staff them for Volkovoy Cruising’s new base. At first Ella had been less than impressed with the younger Volkovoy. With all the Volkovoy money Dmitri threw around, Ella had considered him spoiled and irresponsible. Nothing fortunate in that. Yet there was no doubt that he loved her sister… and thankfully he’d lost that reckless edge that had worried Ella so much at first. But heading off to Africa without the baby was not the right thing for Keira.

The baby…

Ella’s hand crept to her stomach.

Mindful of how much her sister hated it when she nagged, Ella tempered her outrage. “You can’t just leave a baby for a few months… or even a year… and hope it will be there when you get back.”

“I know that, Ella.” Keira’s brows drew together. “Don’t try to put the guilts on me. I’m not ready for a baby—neither of us are.”

Ignoring her sister’s unfair accusation, Ella tried to fathom out what Keira’s response meant. Did she intend to give the baby up for adoption? Shock chilled Ella. Had her sister thought this through? She would hate to see Keira suffer when it one day came home to her what she’d lost. Perhaps Keira needed to be reminded of that.

“If you’re thinking about giving the baby up for adoption, just remember it’s not going to be easy to find a surrogate again if you decide you want a baby when you come back from Africa.”

She certainly wouldn’t be doing it again. She shouldn’t even have done it this time. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb decision. That’s what came of making decisions with her heart rather than her head.

Keira flicked back her pale silver hair. “We can do what Yevgeny suggested when we first talked about you being our surrogate—put our names down to adopt a baby.”

She’d known Dmitri’s high-handed brother was behind this!

The ache in her lower back that had been worsening all day, intensified. It wasn’t worth arguing with Keira, pointing out that putting down your name didn’t guarantee a baby because so few became available for adoption. And when one did, the legal mother had the final say. She alone could choose whichever couple she wanted—there was no waiting list, no way to predict who she would choose.

But right now Keira’s future plans were not her concern.

“And what about this baby?” Ella knew she sounded angry. But, damn it, she was angry. Yevgeny made her blood bubble—even when he wasn’t present. Just the mention of the man was enough! “You can’t just dump it—”

“I’m not dumping it—You’re the legal mother. I know you’ll make the best decision for the baby.” There was an imploring expression in her sister’s eyes that caused the hairs at the back of Ella’s neck to stand on end.

Oh, no! Keira had planned to leave the baby with her and come back to claim it. Panic prickled through her. “I can’t keep the baby.”

Keira’s eyes teared up again. “I know I shouldn’t have expected you to. But you always wanted the adoption of the baby to us to be an open one. So I hoped you would consider…”

“No!” Panic swamped Ella. “We have a surrogacy arrangement—”

Keira was shaking her head. “But Ella, you explained we can’t actually adopt the baby until after you sign the consent to give her up on the twelfth day. As the legal mother, you’re entitled to change your mind—but so are we.”

She’d explained the legalities too well to her sister. Ella swallowed a curse. “You can’t change your mind—because I can’t keep this baby.”

A wave of sick helplessness engulfed her.

Keira sighed. “We already have. We’re not ready to raise a child. I don’t even want to think about the decision you’re going to have to make, but you have to do what you feel is right, Ella. It’s your body, your b—”

“Don’t tell me it’s my baby!”

Keira looked doleful. “I think I always knew deep in my heart that you wouldn’t agree to keep her, and I’ve made peace with that. Even though I had so hoped…” Her little sister’s voice trailed away.

Dear God.

Did Keira not know how much this hurt? What she was asking? The pain that pierced her chest was sharp and unforgiving. And guilt made it worse. Ella wished she could burst into tears… weep and wail. But she couldn’t. Instead, she fought for composure.

She’d always been the adult in their relationship. No doubt Keira had known all along she would agree to sort everything out.

Her heart was racing, and her head had started to pound. The ache in her back seemed to be growing worse by the minute. Ella knew all this couldn’t be good for the baby. She had to calm down. Think of the baby. She drew a shuddering breath… counted to five… and exhaled slowly.

Pulling a cloak of assumed indifference around herself, Ella said with every bit of dignity she could muster, “I have a job—a demanding job. I don’t have time for a pet, much less a baby.” Ella would’ve loved a pet—a cat. But she didn’t have time to care for any living thing.

Keira was staring at her again, her bottom lip quivering.

Ella refused to feel one bit guilty. She was not going to be left holding the baby; she couldn’t keep it. That had never been the plan. The baby had been conceived for Keira—and Dmitri—to parent. This was not her baby.

Lifting her hand from her belly, she said, “Then we’re in agreement. I have no choice but to give your baby up for adoption.”

“If you see no other way out.”

Before she could reiterate that this was not her preference, that the baby was Keira and Dmitri’s responsibility, to her horror Ella felt the warm, wet flood as her water broke.

Keira’s baby girl was not going to wait another week to be born.

Night had already fallen by the time Yevgeny Volkovoy strode into the waiting room set aside for family visitors on the hospital’s first floor. He didn’t notice the calming decor in gentle blues and creams lit up by strategically placed wall sconces, or even the soft-focus photographs of Madonna-like mothers cradling babies that hung on the wall. Instead, his focus homed in on where his brother sprawled across an overstuffed chair while watching a wide-screen television.

Fixing startlingly light blue eyes on Dmitri, he demanded, “Where is he?”

“Who?” Dmitri swung a blank look up at him.

“The child.”

“It’s not a boy… it’s a girl,” his brother corrected him even as the soccer game on the television recaptured his attention. “I told you that after the ultrasound.”

Yevgeny suppressed the surge of bitter disappointment. He’d been so sure that the ultrasound had been read wrong. He should’ve known! For almost a century his family had produced boys… there hadn’t been a girl in sight. How typical of Ella McLeod to give birth to a girl. Contrary creature.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. I want to see her.”

Retracing his steps out of the family room he emerged in time to see his sister-in-law appear through the next door down the carpeted corridor. Yevgeny strode forward. Nodding at his startled sister-in-law as he passed her, he entered the private ward beyond.

Keira’s icicle sister was sitting up in the bed, propped up against large cushions.

Yevgeny came to an abrupt stop. He had never seen Ella McLeod in bed before.

The sight caused a shock of discomfort to course through him. Despite the fact that she barely reached his shoulder when she was on her feet, she’d always seemed so formidable. Stern. Businesslike. Unsmiling. Even at family occasions she dressed in a sharp, formal fashion. Dark colors—mostly black dresses with neck scarves in muted shades.

Now he allowed his gaze to drift over her and take in the other differences.

No scarf. No oversize glasses. No makeup. Some sort of ivory frilly lace spilled around the top of her breasts. She looked younger… paler… more fragile than he’d ever seen her.

The icicle must be thawing.

Yevgeny shook off the absurd notion.

As though sensing his presence, she glanced up from the screen of a slim white phone she’d been squinting at. Antagonism snaked down his spine as their eyes clashed.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Where is the baby?”

He’d expected to find the child in her arms.

He should’ve known better. There wasn’t a maternal bone in Ella McLeod’s frozen body. No softness. No tender feelings. Only sharp, legal-eagle eyes that she usually disguised with a pair of glasses—and from all accounts, a steel-trap brain. According to the rumor mill her law practice did very well. No doubt her success came from divorce dollars siphoned off men with avaricious ex-wives.

Ella hadn’t answered. A haunted flicker in her eye captured his attention, but then the fleeting expression vanished and her focus shifted beyond him. Wheeling about, Yevgeny spotted the crib.

Two strides and he stood beside it. The baby lay inside, snugly swaddled and fast asleep. One tiny hand curled beside her cheek, the fingers perfectly formed. Her lashes were impossibly long, forming dark curves against plump cheeks. Yevgeny’s heart contracted and an unexpected, fierce rush of emotion swept him.

It took only an instant for him to fall deeply, utterly irrevocably in love.

“She’s perfect,” he breathed, his gaze taking in every last detail. The thatch of dark hair—the Volkovoy genes. The red bow of her pursed mouth.

A smile tilted the corners of his mouth up.

Reaching out, he gently touched the curve where chin became cheek with his index finger.

“Don’t wake her!”

The strident demand broke the mood. Turning his head, Yevgeny narrowed his gaze and pinned the woman in the bed.

“I had no intention of waking her,” he said softly, careful not to disturb the infant.

“It’s only a matter of time before she wakens with you hovering over her like that.”

“I never hover.” But he moved away from the cot—and closer to the bed.

Ella didn’t respond. But he’d seen that look in her eyes before. She wasn’t bothering to argue… not because she’d been swayed by his denial, but because she was so damn certain of the rightness of her own opinion.

The woman was a pain in the ass.

The polar opposite of her sister, she was the least motherly woman he’d ever encountered—with the single exception of his own mother.

Maybe it was as well she wasn’t cradling the baby; she’d freeze the little bundle if she got close enough. Ella was ice to the core—he’d been mistaken to imagine a thaw.

“Dmitri called to tell me you’re planning to give up the child for adoption?” No discussion. No consultation. She’d made a life-changing decision that affected all of them, by herself. It was typical of the woman’s arrogant selfishness.

“Then you must’ve heard that your brother and my sister have decided not to adopt the baby.”

Was that irony buried in her voice? He couldn’t read her expression. “Yes—Dmitri told me at the office.”

“At the same time that Keira was visiting me.”

This time he definitely detected an edge. But he was less concerned about her annoyance than discovering the fate of the oblivious newborn in the cot. “So it’s true? You intend to give up the baby just like that?”

Her chin shot up three notches at the snapping sound his fingers made. “I will take care of the arrangements to find a new set of parents as soon as I can.” Ella glanced down at the phone in her lap, then back at Yevgeny. “I’ve already left a message for the social worker who’s handling the adoption proceedings for Keira and Dmitri, notifying her of their change of mind and requesting that she get in touch with me ASAP.”

“Of course you have.” It certainly hadn’t taken her long to start the process to get rid of the baby. Anger sizzled inside him. “You never considered keeping her?” Not that he’d ever allow the child to stay in her care.

She shook her head, and the hair shrouding her face shimmered like the moonlit wisps of cloud outside the window. “Not an option.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

She stared back at him, managing to look haughty and removed in the hospital bed. So certain of the rightness of her stance. “Identifying suitable adoptive parents from Jo Wells’s records is the only feasible option.”

“‘Feasible option?’“ Was this how his own mother had reasoned when she’d divorced his father and lied her way into sole custody, only to turn around and abandon the same sons she’d fought so hard to keep from their father? “This is a baby we’re talking about—you’re not at work now.”

“I’m well aware of that. And my main concern now is the best interests of the child—exactly as it would be if I was at work.”

Yevgeny snorted. “You’re a divorce lawyer—”

“A family lawyer,” she corrected him. “Marriage dissolution is only a part of my practice. Looking after the best interests of the children and—”

“Whatever.” He waved an impatient hand. “I’d hoped for a little less business and a little more emotion right now.”

From the lofty position of the hospital bed she raised an eyebrow in a way that instantly rankled. “You don’t transfer skills learned from business to your home life?”

“I show a little more compassion when I make decisions that relate to the well-being of my family.”

She laughed—a disbelieving sound. Yevgeny gritted his teeth and refused to respond. Okay, so he had a reputation—well-deserved, he conceded silently—for being ruthless in business. But that was irrelevant in this context. He’d always been fiercely protective of those closest to him. His brother. His father. His babushka.

He studied Ella’s face. The straight nose, the lack of amusement in her light brown eyes—despite her laughing mouth. No, he wasn’t going to reach her—he doubted she had any warmth to which he could appeal.

Giving a sharp, impatient sigh, he said, “You’ve got blinkered vision. You haven’t considered all the feasible options.”

For the first time emotion cracked the ice. “I can’t keep the baby!”

Two

Ella’s desperation was followed by a strained silence during which Yevgeny looked down his perfectly straight nose at her. Something withered inside her but Ella held his gaze, refusing to reveal the fragile grief that lingered deep in her most secret heart.

But she wasn’t going to keep the baby.

And she’d hold firm on that.

For her sanity.

Finally he shook his head. “That poor baby is very fortunate that you will not be her mother.”

The contempt caused Ella to bristle. “I agreed to be a surrogate—not a mother.”

“Right now you’re the only mother that baby has—you’re the legal mother.”

God.

This was never supposed to have happened. She stuck her hands under the bedcovers and rested them on the unfamiliar flatness of her belly. After so many months of having a mound, it felt so odd. Empty.

And, with the baby no longer moving inside, so dead.

Why had she ever offered to donate her eggs—and lend her womb—to create the baby her sister had so desperately wanted?

The answer was simple. She loved her sister… she couldn’t bear to see Keira suffer.

Ah, damn. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Now look where it had landed her—in an entanglement that was anything but simple. Ella knew that if she wasn’t careful, the situation had the potential to cause her more pain… more hurt… than any she’d ever experienced before. The only way through the turbulent situation was to keep her emotional distance from the baby—not to allow herself to form that miraculous mother-baby bond that was so tenuous, yet had the strength of steel.

But there was no need to offer any explanation to the insensitive brute who towered over the hospital bed.

Rubbing her hand over her strangely flat stomach, Ella pursed her lips. “I’m well aware that I’m her legal mother.”

Mother. Just one word and her heart started to bump roughly. She couldn’t keep the baby. She couldn’t.

Carefully, deliberately she reiterated, “It was never the plan for me to remain her mother. This. Is. Not. My. Baby.”

It felt better to spell it out so firmly.

The surrogate agreement had been signed, the adoption proceedings had been started. All that needed to happen to formalize the situation had been to get through the twelve-day cooling-off period the New Zealand adoption laws provided. Once that period had passed, and the mother was still sure she wanted to give up the baby, the adoption could go ahead. But Ella had never contemplated reneging on the promise she’d made to her sister. And she’d certainly never expected Keira to be the one to back out!

“She was created for your brother and my sister—to satisfy their desire for a family. By assisting with her conception and bringing her into the world I’ve kept my part of the agreement.” Damn Keira and Dmitri. “In fact, I’ve gone way beyond what was expected of me.”

His mouth slanted down. “That is your opinion.”

“And I’m entitled to it.” Ella drew a steadying breath, felt her stomach rise under her hands, then calmness spread through her as she slowly exhaled. “You shouldn’t expect me to even consider keeping the baby. Keira and Dmitri changed their minds about becoming parents—not me.” She’d had enough of being blamed for something that wasn’t her fault. And she was furious with Keira, and Dmitri, for landing her in this predicament—probably because the man standing beside the bed had caused it with his initial resistance to the baby in the first place.

But before she could confront him with his responsibility for this mess, he was speaking again, in that staccato rattle that hurt her head. “Stop making excuses. It tells me a lot about the kind of person you are—that even in these circumstances you can abandon the baby you’ve carried for nine months… the baby you’ve just given birth to.”

What was the man’s problem? Hadn’t he listened to one word of what she’d been saying? She drew a shuddering breath. “Let’s get this straight. Regardless of the position in law, this is Keira’s baby, not mine.” Where was her sister? She’d landed Ella in this mess, now Keira had disappeared. She’d been here a few minutes ago, but now Ella couldn’t even hear her voice in the family room next door. The loneliness that seared her was as unexpected as it was alien. For once in her life, she could do with her younger sister’s moral support. But of course, that was too much to expect. “I never intended to have children.”

“Never?”

“That’s right. Never.” Under the bedcovers she clenched her hands into fists.

He shook his head and this time the look he gave her caused Ella to see red.

“And what about your precious brother?” It burst from her. “What about his part in this? He’s the baby’s biological father. Why don’t you harangue him about his responsibilities? Why pick on me?”

For the first time, his glance slid away. “This has nothing to do with my brother.”

Her anger soared at the double standard. “Of course not. He’s male. He gets to donate his seed and walk away scot-free from all responsibility. It’s the woman who carries the baby—and the blame, right?”

Yevgeny shot her a strangely savage look. “I’m not discussing this any further. I will absolve you from all blame and responsibility—I will adopt the baby.”

“She will become my responsibility,” continued Yevgeny, rather enjoying seeing cool, icy Ella looking uncharacteristically shaken. “And I do take care of my responsibilities.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Yevgeny’s pleasure grew. How satisfying to discover that the always eloquent Icicle Ella, like other mere mortals, could suffer from loss of words.

“You… you live in a penthouse. Y… you’re not married…” she finally stuttered out. “A baby ought to be adopted by a couple who will care for it.”

It was a great pity she couldn’t have remained speechless for a while longer.

“I can buy a house.” Yevgeny was determined to ignore the jab about a wife. “And the baby is not an it,” he rebuked gently.

Her brown eyes were wide, dazed. “What?”

“You said the baby should go to a couple who love it—she’s not an it.”

“Oh.” A flush crept along her cheeks. “Of course she isn’t. I’m sorry.”

It was the first time he’d ever heard Ella McLeod apologize… and admit she was in the wrong. Yevgeny refused to acknowledge even to himself that he was secretly impressed. Or that it made him feel a little bit guilty about enjoying her confusion.

He studied her. To be truthful her eyes were luminous. Gold-brown with a hint of smoke. Like smoky honey. And the flush gave her pale cheeks a peachy warmth he’d never noticed before. She looked almost pretty—in an ethereal, fragile way that did not normally appeal to him.

In the spirit of reconciliation he felt compelled to add, “And I will care for her.”

“A procession of big-bosomed careworkers is not what I had in mind.”

Reconciliation was clearly not what Ella had in mind. He suppressed a knowing smirk at how quickly the fragile act had lasted and gave in to the urge to provoke her. “You have something against motherly, homely women?”

The look she gave him would’ve frozen the devil at fifty feet. “I wouldn’t describe a Playboy centerfold model as homely.”

This time he allowed himself to smile—but without humor. “I will need some help with the baby… but you may rest assured the criteria for hiring her caregivers will not be physical attributes. I will make sure that the women I employ will be capable of providing her—” he glanced at the baby and realized he didn’t yet know her name “—with all the womanly affection the infant will require.”

“You will need a wife.”

Yevgeny forced a roar of laughter as Ella repeated the ridiculous suggestion. “The child will have far more than a young, struggling couple could ever give her—I don’t need a wife to provide it.”

“I’m not joking.” Ella pressed her lips together. “And I’m not talking about the possessions you can give her—I’m sure you could provide a diamond-encrusted teething ring. But she deserves to have two parents who love her unreservedly.”

His laughter ceased. “You’re living in a dream if you think that happens simply because a child has two parents.” His own mother was living proof of that. To ease the turmoil that memories of his mother always brought, Yevgeny stretched lazily, flexing his shoulders. He noticed how Ella looked away. “She will have to make do with me alone.”

That brought her eyes back to him. “Forget it. It’s not going to happen—I won’t let it.”

“It’s not only your decision. Fathers have rights, too.” He lifted his lips in a feral, not-very-amused grin. “I’m stepping into my brother’s shoes.”

“As you pointed out, I’m the mother. The legal birth mother.” Did she think he’d missed her point? Yevgeny wondered. “I get to make the decisions,” she was saying now. “I need only to consider the best interests of the child.”

The look on her face made it clear that his solution was not what she considered in “the best interests of the child.”

He froze as he absorbed what she was getting at. “How can that be true? This is the twenty-first century!”

“Quite correct. And a child is no longer a chattel of the head of the household.”

The eyes he’d been admiring only minutes earlier gleamed in a way that caused his hackles to rise.

“So I have the final say in who will adopt the baby,” she continued, “and it won’t be an arrogant, unmarried Russian millionaire!”

“Billionaire,” he corrected pointedly and watched her smolder even as his own anger bubbled.

“The amount of money you have doesn’t change a darn thing. She’s going to a couple—a family who wants her, who will love her. That’s what I intended when I agreed to be a surrogate for Keira, and that’s what I still want for her—I’ll make sure the adoption agency is aware of that requirement. You’re not married—and you’re not getting the baby. End of story.”

Her bright eyes glittered back at him with the frosty glare of newly minted gold.

A challenge had been issued. And he fully intended to meet it.

Ruthlessly suppressing his own hot rage, he murmured, “Well, then, it seems I’ll just have to get married.”

Yevgeny watched with supreme satisfaction as Ella’s mouth dropped open.

War, Yevgeny suspected, had been declared.

Ella did a double take. “You? Get married? So that you can adopt a child?”

She hadn’t thought Big Brother Yevgeny could surprise her. She’d thought she had his number. Russian. Raffish. Ruthless. But this announcement left her reeling. What would this playboy Russian billionaire want with a child, a girl child at that?

Which led her to say, “But you don’t even want a girl.”

Something—it couldn’t be surprise—sparked in the depths of those light eyes. “What made you think that?”

“I heard you…” Ella thought back to that moment of tension when she’d heard his voice in the family room next door.

“When?”

“As you came in.” She searched to remember exactly what he’d said. Slowly she said, “You asked where the boy was. You never even considered that the baby might be a girl.”

“Aah.” He smiled, a feral baring of teeth. “So obviously that meant I wouldn’t welcome a girl, hmm?”

Sensing mockery, Ella frowned. “Why would you want a child? Any child?” Wasn’t that going a little far—even for Yevgeny—to get his own way?

Yevgeny shrugged. “Perhaps it is time,” he said simply.

“For a trophy toddler?”

“No, not a trophy.”

“Not like your girlfriends?”

That dangerous smile widened, but his eyes crinkled with what appeared to be real amusement. “You yearn to be one of my trophies?” he asked softly—twisting her insides into pretzels.

An image of his latest woman leaped into Ella’s mind. Nadiya. One of a breed of supermodels identified by their first names alone. Ella didn’t need a surname to conjure up Nadiya’s lean body and perfect face that were regularly featured in the double-page spreads of glossy fashion magazines. Barely twenty, Nadiya was already raking in millions as a face for a French perfume, which she wore in copious amounts that wafted about her in soft clouds. Six foot tall. Brunette. Beautiful. With slanting, catlike green eyes, which devoured Yevgeny as though he were a bowl of cream. Enormously desired by every red-blooded man on earth. A trophy any man would be proud to show off. So why should Ella imagine Yevgeny would be any different?

“That’s a stupid question,” she said dismissively.

“Is it?”

“Of course, I don’t want to be any man’s trophy.” Ella was not about to be dragged into the teasing games he played. She gave him a cool look—mirroring the one she’d caught him giving her earlier—and let her eyes travel all the way down the length of his body before lifting them dismissively back to his face. “Anyway, you’re not the kind of man I would ever date.”

He was laughing openly now. “That’s not an insult. From my observation, there is no kind of man you date.”

The very idea that he’d been watching her, noting her lack of romantic attachments, caused a frisson to run along her spine. She refused to examine her unease further, and focused back on the bombshell he’d delivered. “You can’t adopt this baby.”

He came another step closer to the bed. “Why not?”

“I’ve already told you. You’re not married.”

“That’s old-fashioned.” He leaned over her. “Ella, I never expected such traditionalism from you.”

His closeness was claustrophobic. He was so damn big. “Everyone knows you’re a workaholic—you’re never home.” Yevgeny had less time for a kitten than she did.

At that, he thrust out his roughly stubbled chin. “I’ll make time.”

Right.

Somewhere between his twenty-hour workday and his even more hectic X-rated nightlife? The man obviously never slept—he didn’t even take time to shave. His life was littered with women—even before his latest affair with Nadiya, she’d seen the pictures in the tabloids. Keira and Dmitri remained fiercely loyal and insisted the news was all exaggerated but Ella ignored their protests. They’d been brainwashed by the man himself. Ella knew his type—she’d seen it before. Powerful men who treated women like playthings. Men who kept their women at home, manacled by domesticity and diamonds, before stripping them of everything—including their self-respect—when the next fancy caught their eye.

“Sure you will.”

“Damn right I’ll take care of her.”

As if the baby felt his insistence, she made a mewing noise and stirred. The pretzel knot in Ella’s stomach tightened, yet thankfully the baby didn’t wake. But at least it got rid of Yevgeny—he’d shot across to the cot and was staring down into the depths.

Ella breathed a little easier.

“Money doesn’t equal care.” She flung the words at the back of his dark head.

At her comment, his dark head turned. Ella resisted the urge to squirm under those unfathomable eyes.

“What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one.” Ella had no intention of picking out a name—that would be a fast track to hell. Attachment to the baby was a dark and lonely place she had no wish to visit.

“Keira didn’t choose one?”

“Not a final name.”

It had puzzled Ella, too. Keira had spent weeks pouring over books, searching websites for inspiration. But she’d never even drawn up a short list. Now Ella knew why: Keira had been dithering about motherhood. Choosing a name would’ve been a tie to bind her to the baby.

To rid herself of that critical, disturbing gaze, Ella said, “I can ask Keira if there’s one she particularly liked.”

Yevgeny’s gaze didn’t relent. “You were supposed to be the baby’s godmother, yet you have no idea of the names your sister might have been considering?”

She was not about to air her theory about why Keira hadn’t picked a name in order to jump to her own defense. She simply stared back at him wordlessly and wished that he would take his big intimidating body, his hostile pale blue eyes and leave.

“Why don’t you ask Dmitri what they planned to name the baby?” Let him go bully his brother. Ella had had enough. “Anyway, the baby’s new parents will probably want to pick one out. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long day. I’m tired, I need to rest.”

The baby chose that moment to wake up.

At the low, growling cry, Yevgeny scooped her up in his arms and came toward the bed.

No. Panic overtook Ella. “Call the nurse!”

“What?”

“The baby will be hungry. Call the nurse to bring a bottle—they will feed her.”

He halted. “The nurses will feed her? From a bottle?”

Ella swallowed. “Yes.”

Disbelief glittered for an instant in his eyes, then they iced over with dislike. He thrust the waking baby at her. “Well, you can damn well hold her while I go and summon a nurse to do the job that should be yours.”

“She’s not my baby…” Ella’s voice trailed away as he stalked out of the private ward leaving her with the infant in her arms.

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