Husband for the Holidays

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

E LOISE WOKE DISORIENTED , thinking she was still dreaming because she was flying through the snow falling over the city. No. Those buildings were real. She was—

She sat up with a startled gasp, catching at the blanket before it slipped to the floor, but it was only the robe falling open across her bare legs. Her head swam as she stood to retie the belt and get her head on straight.

Through the predawn light, she saw the shape of someone in the bed.

Oh, no .

Her insides writhed with discomfiture at falling asleep in the first place, then sharing the room all night with Konstantin. It felt intimate, but also provocative. Did he sleep naked?

Don’t .

She had to leave.

She tiptoed to the bathroom, planning to dress and slip away, but he spoke in a graveled voice muffled by the pillow.

“We don’t have to get up for another hour. Do you want to sleep in a real bed?”

“No.” Her voice hit a note that should have shattered the windows.

“There’s one down the hall,” he clarified.

Oh. Of course, he wouldn’t invite her into his. Thank goodness it was barely light, not that he was looking at her to see the stinging heat that rushed into her cheeks.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door before she turned on the light. Her elf uniform wasn’t here. Neither were the clothes he’d loaned her.

She cracked the door to whisper, “Where are my clothes?”

“I threw them out.”

“ Why ?”

“We’re doing this now, then?” The blankets rustled as he rolled over, then they fell down his chest as his bent arms came up and flexed.

Dangerous tendrils of intrigue curled through her belly. “Doing what?” Her voice was still too high.

“Getting up. Talking.”

“No. I’m going home.”

With an impatient sigh, Konstantin threw back the covers and rose.

The winter light cast his bare chest and muscled legs in shades of pewter. He wore boxer briefs in a slash of black across his hips, but a jolt still went through her as she confronted all that naked skin. His physique was lean and powerful enough to dry her mouth.

And was he—?

She yanked her gaze to the windows, trying to unsee the press of his morning wood against his underwear.

“Did you take something?” he asked briskly.

“What?” She glanced to see he was dressing in the clothes she’d left on the foot of the bed. He had the track pants over his hips and yanked the drawstring before he tied it off.

“Drugs. Is that why you passed out?”

“ No . I already told you I don’t take drugs.”

“Are you ill? Pregnant?”

“What on earth do you think I’m doing with my life? No. I’ve been working two jobs. I was tired.” She looked to the door, thinking she’d have to go home in just her coat. It would look like the ultimate walk of shame, which it kind of was, but it was hardly the worst outfit on the subway on a Wednesday morning.

“I found an all-night boutique and had them deliver something closer to your size.” He bent and snagged a massive shopping bag from the floor. He plopped it on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“That—” She couldn’t really claim it wasn’t necessary, could she? “Thank you.”

“Come downstairs when you’re dressed.” He walked out, pulling the T-shirt over his head as he went.

She wavered briefly, then carried the oversized bag into the bathroom where she sifted through her options.

Drugs? Really? She was too broke to be anything but stone-cold sober.

She shook out a pair of jeans and looked at the selection of tops. There were a couple of plain T-shirts, a waffle-knit sweatshirt and a fuzzy blue cardigan along with fresh undies and bright pink socks.

The jeans were loose and she had to turn up the cuffs, but they were better than wearing anything of his. The layered tops hugged her comfortingly and the fuzzy cardigan was almost as snuggly as the robe had been.

Her hair was a disaster, given she’d slept on it wet before fully combing it out. It was flattened to one side and the part felt wrong, but she mostly wore it in a ponytail or a bun these days. Did the man own anything resembling a hair tie, though? Of course not.

She dampened her hair, combed it, then tucked it behind her ears and turned away in disgust.

When she got downstairs, Konstantin was speaking to a middle-aged woman who was setting two places on the end of the long dining table. The T-shirt shifted and hugged his muscled shoulders as he poured himself a coffee. His biceps bulged below the short sleeves. His feet were bare.

Eloise faltered, trying not to be mesmerized. She had only come this far to say goodbye, but the aroma of waffles and bacon and fresh coffee hit her nostrils, making her stomach cramp with hunger.

She hadn’t had a lot of time to sleep these days and even less for eating.

“You missed dinner. Sit,” Konstantin said, then dismissed his housekeeper with the news that, “We’ll be gone by nine. Come back then and close the apartment. I’ll email in the New Year to let you know when I’ll be back. Enjoy your vacation.”

“Thank you.” The woman nodded and sent a pleasant smile toward Eloise on her way through the door beside the pantry.

This was quite a feast to be thrown together at the last minute. His housekeeper must have known Konstantin was expecting company this morning.

Unjustified jealousy twinged through Eloise at the thought of him sharing his wide bed with Gemma Wilkinson, then coming down here to play footsie while they ate breakfast.

Konstantin held a chair to the right of his spot at the head of the table. “Tell me how you’ve come to this.”

The meal was too tempting. She sank into the chair and spooned berries from the different dishes onto her waffle, topped it with a drizzle of strawberry syrup, then added a dollop of whipped cream.

Konstantin sat and leaned to fill her cup with coffee, extending his tanned arm across her line of vision. How could the sight of an arm cause sizzling heat to climb from the pit of her belly up her lower back, across her chest and into her neck? It was ridiculous!

She slid a crispy morsel of waffle into her mouth, putting off answering because she felt so stupid about being here like this.

“Mmm...” The sweet flavors exploded on her tongue along with the burst of berries and the fluffy texture of the whipped cream. She closed her eyes to savor it.

When she opened her eyes, Konstantin was watching her intently. Her heart flip-flopped and a fresh blush flooded with a sting into her cheeks.

She forced herself to swallow, but where to start?

Maybe if she hadn’t been so entitled in the first place, taking food like this for granted? Maybe if she’d taken better care of herself and not been so oblivious and selfish?

Her descent into this predicament was intensely painful to look at and admit to, but at least he would understand how it started.

“Things were difficult after Ilias.” She cleared her throat with a sip of coffee. It was a dark roast, bitter and delicious and piping hot. “Mom has had a lot of loss in her life and losing people isn’t something anyone could get used to. She’s always been on the sensitive side, anyway. Emotionally, I mean. She feels things very deeply.”

She glanced up, not wanting him to think she was bad-mouthing her mother or judging Lilja. Her mother’s personality tended toward codependent. That was just reality.

He was listening intently. His condensed attention made her feel as though she had a lens on herself that amplified everything, making her ultra self-conscious.

“I was trying to be strong for her, the way Ilias had always been. I didn’t realize how badly I was taking his being gone until I went back to university. Mom had started seeing someone so I thought I was ready to resume my life, too. I wound up staying in my room for an entire semester.”

Konstantin’s brows crashed together. “No one helped you? Schoolmates?”

“I didn’t have any. I’d only been there for a couple of months when it happened, then I was gone for more than a year. The few friends I’d made were doing their own things.” Partying, studying, dating and traveling. “Eventually, I got myself back into the lecture halls, but my interest wasn’t there. I was failing out of classes, couldn’t settle on a major. Mom still needed a lot of support. She likes to have a man in her life and she loves to talk about it when she does.” Eloise found a wry smile, but it slid straight off her mouth because she should have been paying closer attention during that time. “I’ve always found it better to distance myself when she’s dating someone new so I stayed at uni, trying to find my way.”

“Why is it better to distance yourself?” His eyes narrowed inquisitively.

Men were so naive sometimes. She hesitated, but the reason men were naive was because women hated talking about it.

“Growing up, there were times when the man she was dating viewed us as a two-for-one deal,” she admitted flatly.

“Lilja put up with that?” His voice thickened with outrage.

“Of course not. She always got rid of them immediately.”

“How did it happen more than once? Did Ilias know?” he demanded.

“Sometimes. Don’t look at me like that,” she said of his accusatory glower. “It was hard enough telling my mother that her beau had grabbed my butt or tried to kiss me on the lips. I didn’t want to repeat it to my brother. She always dealt with it and I learned to keep out of the way.”

“This is unbelievable.” He scraped his chair back and rose to pace near the window.

“You think I’m lying ?”

“No,” he barked over his shoulder. “I’m reminded of the depths some of my sex will sink to and I’m sickened by it. I just can’t believe...” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t judge Mom too harshly,” she said into the silence. “Her happiest time in life was when she was married to Ilias’s father. She’s been looking for that ever since. It’s not her fault that some of the men she kissed turned out to be toads. The fault is mine for letting her marry one. Although, I think one of the reasons she liked Antoine so much is that he’s always taken this very paternal attitude toward me instead of, you know, being overly friendly.”

Konstantin turned, arms folded across his powerful chest. “What’s his last name again?”

“Rousseau?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t familiar to me when she married him, but... He’s no good?”

She dipped a strawberry in whipped cream and ate it, trying to sweeten the bitterness that had landed on her tongue.

“At first, he seemed like the answer to my prayers. Mom had known him for years and she had always found him charming.”

Konstantin’s brows went up in speculation.

She nodded grimly. “Given what I know of him now, I can’t help thinking he’d kept a hook baited for her. He gave her what she was looking for, though. He romanced her and he’s very attentive, pampers her and placates her moods. Once she started seeing him, she called me less often. When I did talk to her, she sounded calmer and happier. You don’t realize how badly you need a full night’s sleep until you get one, you know? Kind of like today,” she joked, glancing up again.

His expression remained stony. She looked back to her plate.

“Mom always said she wouldn’t remarry unless she was in love so when they got engaged, I thought it was the real deal. She was excited for the wedding and the honeymoon. He was always a gentleman around me, even though he was always there .”

“What do you mean?”

“At first, I thought he was just trying to, you know, bond with his wife’s daughter. But he made it impossible for me to get Mom alone for more than five minutes. He was constantly inserting himself, driving the conversation where he wanted it to go. Or didn’t want it to go. Part of me thought, who cares? I’m not married to him. He makes her happy.” She braced her elbows on the table and covered the shame that creased her face. “I hate myself so much for being relieved that she was leaning on him instead of me.”

“She used to do that with Ilias.”

“She did,” she agreed, picking up her head. “I really took him for granted that way. I took a lot of things for granted,” she muttered as she gathered her cutlery again, but her appetite was muted by remorse. “Anyway, having that breathing space gave me a chance see that I hadn’t been taking care of myself. I finally began thinking about what I wanted to do with my life.”

“That’s when you began your excursion to the North Pole?”

“Ha-ha. No. Ilias had always told me I should work in music. I’m not orchestra-level talent, but I wound up talking to a grief counselor who used music therapy. I realized that was something that interested me. The problem was, I’d already failed out of two universities. None of those classes really transferred, anyway. I found a program here in New York that accepted me, but when it came time to pay tuition and look for an apartment, Antoine refused to pay for any of it.”

“ Antoine did.” A deep note entered Konstantin’s voice that was lethal enough to make her skin prickle.

“Yes. Mom had always used a trustee to manage her fortune. Cyrus. When he retired, Antoine took over. It’s totally within Mom’s right to let him. It’s her money from her first husband.”

“None came from your father?”

“No.” A small pang of mixed feelings struck, those that reminded her she wasn’t really a Drakos, merely a product of her mother’s whimsical appreciation for a good-looking man. “My father was a professional surfer. He made enough to stay on the circuit, but he had a bohemian personality. He died when I was five. I don’t really remember him.”

“What did your mother say about Antoine cutting you off?”

“Nothing.” She got another bite of waffle into her mouth and chewed, but all her enjoyment was gone. “Given the history between us when it came to men, I didn’t want to get between her and her husband. And Antoine had a point. It had always been on Mom to support me. I’m an adult and she doesn’t owe me a penny. She had already given me four years of university and I had nothing to show for it. I accept all of that, but...”

“Surely, Ilias made arrangements for you.”

“He didn’t expect to die before he was thirty, did he?”

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Konstantin said with muted fury, looking toward the window where snow swirled beyond the glass. “I ask myself daily if I should have talked him out of taking those lessons. He always seemed so competent.”

“He was. And he had a qualified pilot with him.” Bird strikes didn’t always take down a plane, but in this case, it had. “We met with lawyers once the funeral was over, obviously, but all of that is a blur to me.”

At the mention of the funeral, Konstantin flashed his attention back to her. His delving look caused that strange pull in her belly.

She looked down at her plate, not wanting him to know how many times she’d relived their kiss. How much it had confused her and left her incapable of fully tracking what had happened those immediate days after, when they’d been trying to chart the path forward.

She rubbed her brow.

“I remember Cyrus saying there were sufficient funds for my schooling, but I don’t remember how much. Control of the Drakos fortune reverted to Mom and I’m almost certain they said I would become a cotrustee if something happened to her. At the time, she just handed everything back to Cyrus. He had managed it before Ilias was old enough to do it and when I emailed him to say I was ready to go back to school, he took care of all my bills. I’m embarrassed to say that’s all that mattered to me at the time. Then Cyrus retired and Antoine got his tentacles in.”

“You’re still her daughter. Does she know you’re living like this? Surely, she wants you to be safe?”

“Safely married,” she said dryly. “Antoine is very persuasive. He’s got her convinced that I should marry Edoardo Ricci. You might know the banking family?”

“He’s too old for you.” His words lashed like a whip across the room.

“He’s thirty-three,” she said with a snort. “One year older than you.”

His cheek ticked, but he didn’t insist he was too old for her.

“Do you want to marry him?” he asked gruffly instead.

“No. Otherwise, I’d be there, getting married, wouldn’t I? Not that there’s anything wrong with him.” Beyond the fact he wasn’t Konstantin. She looked into her coffee. “I think about giving in every day. I know it would ease Mom’s mind if I was settled. She would love to plan a wedding,” she said into her cup, sipping to wet her damp throat. “But I find Antoine so patronizing. He said there was no point in Mom paying for my education if I’m only going to be a wife and mother, anyway. He said I’ve been enough of a drain on her resources and it’s time that I...” She looked to the ceiling, still galled. “That I contribute to the family fortunes in a constructive manner .”

“That implies he has contributed to her fortune in some way. Has he?”

“I don’t know. He has money from a previous marriage, I think.” She hated the sound of Antoine’s voice so she rarely listened to it. “Anyway, I told him to get stuffed, that I was going to school and walked out. I admit I was behaving like a spoiled brat. I flew here to look for an apartment, thinking he would cool off and go back to paying my bills. I thought Mom would insist on it. I’ve always had an allowance.”

She massaged the tension that invaded her brow again, unable to look at him because she was so embarrassed by that sense of entitlement.

“Maybe I deserved to be brought down a peg, but as soon as I landed, he cut off my credit cards and bricked my phone. I had to sell what jewelry I had on me to pay my hotel bill. When I finally got hold of Mom, Antoine was right there saying that if I wanted to come back and continue talking about Edoardo, he would send me a plane ticket. I said no thanks and hung up. I’ve been here, living on spite, ever since.”

He didn’t laugh. “When was this?”

“April.”

“What does Lilja think you’ve been doing all this time?”

“Going to school. When I said it, I was planning to get a student loan, but it felt like too big a hole to dig myself into. I kept up the lie as an excuse for not going home. I don’t want Antoine to know he has my back against a wall.”

“And your only income is door-to-door sales?”

“It’s not—no. I serve breakfast at a trattoria on Fifth Avenue.” She’d been crying into her espresso when the server had mentioned they were looking for help. “I room with one of my coworkers. She gets the more lucrative dinner shifts, but even the tips from a coffee and croissant are good. So were the tips from the Twelve Days gig. One of the dads gave me fifty dollars the first night. I was like, dude. Pace yourself. There are eleven more deliveries to go.” So much for that cash cow , she thought wistfully.

“This is not what Ilias would want for you.”

“Neither is marriage to a stranger. He wouldn’t want Mom at the mercy of someone like Antoine, either. I feel horrible for that.” The guilt ate at her constantly.

“Antoine took advantage of both of you. I’ll step in. Straighten things out.”

“How?” Her heart nearly came out her throat. “No. Don’t get involved.” It killed her to say it but, “I’m finally connected to Mom again. It’s only a few texts and Antoine listens to all our calls, but if you go stirring the pot, he’ll cut me off again. No . Thank you,” she added in a shaken voice. “Stay out of it.”

“He has no right to prevent you from speaking to your mother.”

His lash of cold temper was... She wasn’t sure. He was outraged on her behalf, which was heartening, but it seemed deeper and broader and more personal than it warranted. She didn’t know how to interpret the cold malevolence that seemed to radiate from him. It made her cautious as she tried to defend her position.

“She thinks she loves him. He seems to love her back. What are you going to do? Shatter her beliefs and force her to suffer yet another heartbreak? I’ve caused her to lose men before.”

“Men who didn’t deserve to be with her,” he pointed out with a flash of temper.

“Sure, but it would still be my fault. Again.” Eloise had been down that road. Maybe her mother wouldn’t hold a grudge, but it would still be painful and awful. “No. I appreciate the sympathetic ear and the hot meal, but I have everything under control.”

That was such a lie that she couldn’t look at him as she said it.

His snort told her he didn’t buy it, either.

She stabbed at her waffle, focusing on finishing her breakfast so he wouldn’t see the shadows of hopelessness in her eyes.

Konstantin retook his seat, resuming his breakfast while he filtered through the various avenues of inquiry he would take to correct for his failure to ensure Eloise and her mother were properly taken care of after Ilias had passed.

How had he thought they would be okay? That had been so shortsighted on his part; he was beyond disgusted with himself.

“What sorts of things have you been up to since, um...” Eloise’s voice broke into his concentration, but then she seemed to realize that “since I saw you last” was a reference to the funeral and their kiss. “Lately,” she mumbled and closed her lips over her fork.

Why was she engaging in inane small talk?

“Is that too personal?” Wariness edged into her expression. “I was only trying to make conversation.”

“My life never changes. Work keeps me busy. I like it that way.”

“But you’re seeing, um... She’s the actress, right? I’m really sorry about your date last night. I feel like I should apologize to her.”

She sounded like Ilias, voice soaked with empathy for a complete stranger, wanting everyone to get along and willing to pave the way with their own beating heart if necessary.

“That’s over. Forget it.” He shrugged it away.

“The relationship is over? Or...?” Eloise searched his eyes as though delving for truth. For feelings . “Or do you mean you’ve made up with her and it’s all okay?”

“I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal life,” he reminded her.

Her expression went blank, proving she was even more sensitive than Ilias had ever been because he’d hurt her feelings. It brought out an agitation in Konstantin that wanted to bark, For God’s sake, protect yourself .

Especially from me , was the follow-up thought.

He’d been hardened off very early in life while she had been raised by a high-needs mother who had left her so emotionally drained she’d neglected herself after suffering a devastating blow. Now she was being put through the wringer by her stepfather.

Guilt twisted like a knife behind his navel. That was more his fault than hers. He knew it even if she didn’t.

“The relationship wasn’t serious. Now it’s over,” he clarified for no particular reason except that he wanted her to know it. He refused to pick apart why. His cup went into its saucer with a click. “I sent flowers and something she could exchange at Tiffany’s.”

Her faint nod frustrated him for some inexplicable reason. Because she was judging him? No, he decided. It was the situation that was eating at him.

“Ilias would have paid your tuition and supported you through your education—”

“Please don’t.” She put up a hand, sounding appalled. “I didn’t come here expecting anything more than a friendly catch up.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we’re strangers,” she stated. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Like hell. He rejected that remark at such a base level he was insulted she would even say it aloud.

“Ilias bailed out my grandfather’s company when we were still at university. Did you know that?”

“No. I mean, I remember him saying you had to quit school early because your grandfather was ill. And I know that you came to New York that time because you were squaring up with him on some old business.” A blush crept into her cheeks and her gaze skittered away from his as she referenced that day by the Christmas tree. “Ilias never implied it was a big deal, though.”

“It was a very big deal.” Konstantin tried to ignore the sexual awareness that ignited within him each time he saw her react to him. “My grandfather became ill and I wasn’t fully prepared to take over. Things were a mess. Vultures were circling. If not for Ilias, I would have lost everything.”

“I doubt that.” A smile flickered across her lips. “He always spoke about you as being very intelligent and ambitious. He admired you.”

Konstantin couldn’t help a reflexive frown at that, not caring for the pitch of emotion it caused within him: pain, loss, more guilt that he had ignored his obligations to Ilias’s family.

“The point I’m making is that I remain in his debt.” He was embarrassed that he had allowed himself to believe that paying off the financial side of things had been enough.

Eloise regarded him solemnly. “Ilias was never one to keep a score sheet. You know that.”

“But he had a strong sense of right and wrong. What is happening to you is wrong.” It made him livid.

It didn’t sound as though Antoine was violent, the way Konstantin’s father had been, but his controlling, bullyish behavior was all too familiar. And Antoine’s neglect of Eloise looked an awful lot like the way his own grandfather had ignored his daughter’s plight, leaving her in the hands of a monster.

“If Ilias were alive today, you would be well taken care of.” Konstantin had no doubt in that. “What if something happens to your mother? Who inherits the Drakos fortune? Antoine ?”

“Probably.” She sighed as though that were something she couldn’t bear thinking about. Then she sent him a beseeching look. “This isn’t about the money, though. I honestly don’t care if I have to work grubby jobs and live with a roommate. I need my mother in my life. She’s all I have. I don’t want to hurt her, or see her hurt, or get hurt myself. And I don’t see any way that I can intervene in her marriage without that happening.”

“So you intend to continue tolerating this?”

“What are my options?” She threw up her hands. “Either she stays with a man who wants to push me to the periphery of her life, or I start a war with him that tears Mom and meI apart, anyway. How would I even go about extricating him? Claim that she wasn’t competent when she put him in charge? He’s her husband. Calling her state of mind into question would only bolster his position as custodian of her money. Even if I somehow pried him from her life, then what? I’m the one who broke up her relationships again . Believe me, I spend every day trying to find a good way out of this and there is none.”

“I don’t accept that.” He understood that relationships could be complicated. It was another reason he avoided them, but it was very clear to him that he couldn’t allow things to go on as they were. “I’ll take you to Nice. I want to meet this man.”

“Why? There’s no point,” she protested.

“There are many points. You want to see your mother, don’t you? For Christmas?”

“That’s so unfair, it’s cruel,” she said with a wounded pang in her voice. “Of course, I want to see her. But she already told me she’s going away. Antoine booked it,” she added sullenly. “I think he did it to keep me from asking to come home, but maybe I’m being paranoid.”

“Where are they going?”

“Como, I think. It’s a house party. They’re leaving after their own party on Friday.”

“Which means she’s in Nice until Friday. Come with me or don’t, but I intend to see for myself what kind of situation she’s in.”

“I can’t—I have to work my shift.” She sent an anxious look at the clock. “I can’t leave town without covering my share of rent. My roommate will get kicked out and it will be my fault.”

“Your sense of responsibility would be commendable, Eloise, if you weren’t clinging to such a sinking ship. Please,” he said with deep irony. “Since it’s my fault you lost your job, allow me to cover your rent.”