The Tycoon's Toddler Surprise (17 page)

She stared at his back once again, her mind sifting through the words he’d just said to her.  After a long moment where he was absolutely still, his back tense as his hands braced against the counter, she said, “Your father wasn’t there for you, was he?”

She saw his stiff back straighten out suddenly with her words.  “My father doesn’t matter.  What matters is how we raise Victoria.”

She stepped closer and tentatively touched his back.  He jerked and she pulled her hand away quickly but she wasn’t going to let the subject drop.  “It matters, Mikhail.  You’re a strong, powerful man and I’m glad that you want to be a good father to Victoria.  Especially since you…” she struggled to figure out what he’d said, to read between the lines and hear what he wasn’t saying, “…you didn’t have a father at all, did you?”

“Everyone has a father.”

“But you never met yours.”  She didn’t need to ask anymore.  She finally understood.  At least she thought she did. 

He was quiet for a long time before he shook his head. “Never.”

“Did your mother ever talk about him?  Tell you stories about how they’d met or what he was like?”

She watched as a muscle flexed in jaw.  “Never.”

She couldn’t understand how that was possible.  She
thought about it, but he was finished with the conversation.  “As I was saying, I will be here for Victoria.”  He turned to face her, leaning down so his face was only an inch from her own. “I will not abandon the two of you and we’re going to give this a chance.”

She looked up at him, intimidated despite herself.  But as she looked into his eyes, she realized that he wasn’t just demanding.  His words were a demand.  But there was a question in his eyes.  Beyond a question actually.  He was begging her.  There was a need so deep and powerful in his eyes that she couldn’t speak for a moment. 

There wasn’t anything else she could say except, “Okay.” 

She saw him visibly relax a moment before he stepped back and finished unpacking the bag. 

Victoria danced into the kitchen a moment later and her excitement over having her father back home broke the tension.  They were able to sit down for dinner at the tiny table to a fresh salad, marinated green beans and roasted chicken with some sort of herbs that
tantalized
.  For dessert there was a small, perfectly warm apple pie and Kristen sat back, feeling full but somehow still offended that Victoria couldn’t stop talking about how good the chicken was. 

Mikhail noticed and winked.  “Don’t be offended.  I’ll eat your meals anytime you want to cook.”

She sighed and pushed back her chair.  “You’re right.  I hate cooking during the week and it was very nice to come home and not have that kind of pressure.”

“Do you have to work tonight?”

She glanced at the clock and realized it was barely even seven o’clock.  “Not really.”
 

The doorbell rang and a moment later, her sister swung the front door open along with her two kids, rushing into the house and tossing their coats into a corner before pulling out the bins of toys. 

Mikhail waved to Debbie
as she rushed by the kitchen doorway, trying to catch her youngest who had decided it was a good idea to bring icicles into the house. 
“
Debbie
is coming over with the kids to watch Victoria.”

Kristen laughed and shook her head.  “
How did you…”

“I called her earlier today to arrange it. 
Will you come with me for about an hour?”

He drove them three blocks over and pulled into a driveway that had been completely cleared of snow, unlike several of the other houses in her neighborhood, including her own, that was cleared of the majority of the snow, but still had a layer of mashed ice along the bottom in several places. 

“Mikhail, I don’t really feel like socializing tonight,” she said. 

“We’re not socializing,” he said and stepped out, coming around to open her car door for her. 

“Then why…” she started to say but he just took her hand and pulled her down the dark sidewalk. 

He pulled out a key and opened the front door, revealing a gorgeous entryway with large windows
and beautiful marble floors.  “This house is only two miles from your
mom’
s house and closer to your
sisters’
house
s
than the one you currently have.  It has six bedrooms and seven bathrooms with a full basement.  There’s also a small house in the back for a housekeeper but you can use it as a guest house if you’d prefer.”

“I don’t want you to buy me a house.”

“I’m buying it for us.”

She was stunned by that announcement and took a deep breath. “It’s too big for three people.  It would be ridiculous for us to live in such a huge house.”  That was a silly response since the penthouse he owned in Manhattan was twice this size, not including the yard.  “And a housekeeper?  Why would we need a
housekeeper
?  I’ve been able to maintain my house ever since Victoria was born.”

He pulled her around and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “I’m hoping that there won’t be just Victoria,” he said and watched her face as she absorbed what he was saying. 

She walked through the rooms, one by one, impressed with the windows and openness of the house.  “Give me one good reason to start over,” she said, turning to face him.  “And it can’t be because of Victoria.”

He had been leaning against the doorway to the living room but at her challenge, he walked forward until the two of them were standing in the middle of the room.  Looking down at her, he said simply, “Because you still love me.”

Kristen’s breath caught in her throat and she wondered how he had figured that out.  She hadn’t decided to ignore his claim, or lie and deny it, when she heard herself say, “Of course I do.”

She saw his eyes light up and she knew she’d said the right thing.  “But that’s not a good reason.”

He nodded and pulled her closer.  With her head resting on his chest and her warm breath tickling his neck, he considered his words carefully.  “I never admitted
to anyone else
that my father wasn’t around when I was a kid.”

Kristen held her breath, feeling as if he were going to open up to her.  She didn’t want to spoil it with words.

“But it’s more than that.  My mother was so poor she could barely afford food for us, and she died when I was just a kid.”

“You were an orphan?” she asked softly.

“I guess you could say that.  I wasn’t in an orphanage, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

She felt his arms tighten around her a moment before he said, “I grew up on the streets.  Orphanages were pretty tough places, worse than the streets so I learned to survive.”

Kristen felt her arms go around his waist, her heart aching for the child he should have been.  “How did you learn to fix cars?”

He chuckled softly.  “I don’t know how to fix them.  I know how to steal them.  I had to learn the tricks of getting them started without a key, Kristen.”

She shivered and held him more tightly.  “I’m guessing you were pretty good at it.”

He shrugged.  “It got me food and a place to live for the winter months.”

“And the summer months?” 

“We had to hide out in different places then.  Summer was when the police tried to do the sweeps.”

“What’s a
‘
sweep
’
?”

“A crackdown, where they would round up all the street kids and haul them in for questioning, charging them with petty crimes just to keep the crime rate down.”

“Why didn’t they do it during the winter months?  At least you would have had a warm place to sleep.”

“Winter was too cold for the police to hunt down the street criminals.  They weren’t that ambitious.  Anything that could wait until warmer months was pushed off.”

She thought about that for a long moment before she hugged him.  “That’s why you hate the cold so much.”

“
Da
.”
  Even that was an amazing sound since he’d never spoken Russian to her.  Just saying “yes” in Russian made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, an indication that he was revealing more of himself. 

She considered her next words carefully, wondering why she was going head first into a relationship with a man who could barely commit to being home for dinner much less explaining his feelings for her.  And then she realized that, in him telling her about his past, he was trusting her with something he’d never told another living soul. 

“And you’re willing to move here anyway.”  It was a statement instead of another question. 
“We don’t have to live here.  We could live in Florida if that would be easier for you.”

She felt his arms tighten around her and knew that she’d said the right thing. 

“You need to be close to your family,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotions.  “I don’t want to take you away from that.”

“There are plenty of flights to Minneapolis.”

He looked down at her, shaking his head.  “No.  This is who you are.  And as long as I have you and Victoria, the world is a much warmer place.”

She smiled brightly up at him.  “I love you too,” she said. 

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he replied with his deep, sexy voice.  “I love you,” he translated.