Page 38 of Staking His Claim

“I’m not talking about instances of domestic violence.” Yevgeny refused to back down. “I’m talking about women who manipulate you—and the judge.” His voice was thick, his Russian accent pronounced. He drew a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to relax.

He’d arrived at Ella’s house earlier to visit Holly—and discovered Ella had abandoned the baby to return to work. He’d been outraged. He’d come here to tell Ella what he thought of her—not to be dragged into the past.

Her brow wrinkled. “Are we talking about a specific case here?”

He looked away. His stomach tightened. For a moment he could smell the long-forgotten musty smell of another legal office with its wooden-paneled walls and leather chairs. He could see the never-forgotten triumph in his mother’s smile as she rose to her feet to shake the lawyer’s hand. It had been three years until he’d seen his father again, and only because his mother had walked out of the fancy house his father paid a fortune to maintain, leaving her two sons alone in it. The housekeeper had called his father to advise that his mother had gone—she couldn’t have cared less.

When he looked back at Ella, her head was tipped to one side as she inspected him. The brown eyes no longer flamed, they’d warmed to the pale gold of honey behind her glasses. “Did you have a child taken from you in the past?”

He’d never heard that soft, sweet tone from her before.

My God. She felt pity for him! No one ever felt that kind of emotion for him. Never. It rocked Yevgeny. He shook his head in a jerky motion, rejecting the very idea. “This is not about me!”

“Isn’t it?” Ella stepped around the desk and came toward him. “Are you sure?”

This wasn’t about him...this was about...about—

His Holly.

He could feel every muscle in his body growing increasingly taut with every step that brought Ella closer. He wanted her to stop. He didn’t want her coming near enough for him to pick up on her lilac scent. He didn’t want her kindness. Not until he could examine why her sympathy caused him to crack wide open inside.

Yevgeny struggled to marshal the anger and outrage that had driven him here. He’d rather remember the side of her he detested—the human icicle, the mother who wanted to send the child she’d given birth to away and abandon her without a second thought.

That was the woman he never wanted near him. And he knew the easiest way to keep that woman—and her questions—at bay....

“What did you advise your young client?” he barked out. “To wangle as much from her husband as she can? To lie to get sole custody?”

Pausing, one foot in front of the other, Ella halted, and Yevgeny exhaled a silent sigh of relief.

Mission accomplished.

Then she said, “You can’t expect me to answer that. Any advice I give is subject to legal privilege. But I can tell you that before proceeding with divorce action, I often suggest to clients that they try counseling—”

“Airy-fairy stuff.” Yevgeny waved a dismissive hand. “No help at all.”

“Or get budgeting advice,” she continued evenly as if he hadn’t interrupted. But her eyes sparkled behind her spectacles. “I’m sure a financially savvy man like you would appreciate the wisdom of that.”

One dark eyebrow shot up. “Budgeting advice so that these women can afford your usurious fees?”

“No!” For the first time Ella sounded annoyed. “Budgeting advice to help them save their marriages!”

He took in the anger on her face. He was angry, too. This was not going to help his position with Holly. Yevgeny let out his breath. “This is not why I came. I will call you when we both have had a chance to simmer down.”

* * *

Given their previous confrontation, the last person Ella wanted to see when she walked into her home the following evening was Yevgeny. She still had not “simmered down” as he had put it.

To make matters worse, he looked totally at ease sprawled across the carpet of her living room, his gray satin tie loosened, shirtsleeves rolled up and his hair ruffled. Holly lay on her back beside him, looking perfectly content, her bare legs kicking in the air, while the Christmas tree sparkled merrily in the background.

It was all very cozy and festive...a scene from a Christmas card...and Ella felt like a complete outsider in her own home.

“Where’s Deb?” she demanded, stopping in front of Yevgeny.

“I told her to take a break while I’m here.”

His high-handedness annoyed Ella. Deb reported to her, not to her nemesis. It was something she would have to discuss with the nanny.