The Russian's Ultimatum(27)

It was just another part of herself that she'd suppressed in recent times. Well, no more.

She wrapped her sarong around her waist and slipped her feet into her   flip-flops, all the while wishing they didn't have to leave this spot.   Not yet.

But the time was inching closer.

In a few short hours Pascha would be leaving the island. Leaving her.

The thought made her throat close and her heart constrict.

She didn't want him to go. Not without her.
                       
       
           



       
His pace was slower than the long strides he usually took. With his hand clasping hers firmly, hope began to stir.

She hadn't been with a man for more years than she could count. It was   for a whole host of reasons that she'd avoided relationships and one of   them-probably the most minor reason of the lot-was because she'd been   waiting to find a man who made her heart beat faster just to think of   him; a man who made her go figuratively weak at the knees.

Pascha did all that. He made her feel more than she'd ever felt in her life.

He wasn't the monster she'd thought him at the beginning. He was just a   man, a mortal with his own demons to conquer, trying hard to make  amends  for a past it hurt her heart to think about.

In his office, she'd imagined sex with him would be perfunctory and   proper. How she wished she'd been right. Maybe then the need within her   would have been extinguished with disappointment, not quadrupled and   morphed into something so huge her brain struggled to comprehend it.

But, what her brain struggled to recognise, her heart knew.

Her heart knew she was falling in love with him...

'When we get back to the lodge we'll learn if there's a boat available   to take us back to Puerto Rico,' Pascha said, breaking through her   dumbfounded thoughts. 'If there is, you will need to pack.'

'I'm coming with you?' That little bit of hope stirred a little stronger.

He gave a rueful smile. 'I have no good reason to keep you here, not any   more. I know you won't say anything about the Plushenko deal.'

Stunned at this unexpected development, Emily stopped walking. 'Thank you.'

'I will speak to Zlatan, my lawyer, as soon as we return to the lodge   and get the money transferred into your father's bank account. I will   also have an official letter drawn up exonerating him of any wrong-doing   and leaving the door open for him to return to his job if and when he   feels able to.'

'Have you had the case investigated?' she asked hopefully.

'I do not believe your father took that money deliberately. We still   need to trace exactly where it went and make moves to retrieve it but   that's nothing for you to worry about.'

'That's-'

She tried to speak but he cut her off by cupping her cheeks with his   strong hands. 'I want you to know how sorry I am that I didn't get this   situation resolved when it first occurred. I like matters of theft,   which is what I believed it to be, to be investigated by my personal   legal team. Because I had them working flat-out on the Plushenko buyout,   your father's case was put to one side. I can't express how deep my   regret is for what your father's been through. I am very much aware that   I have contributed to his mental decline. Please let him know that if   he chooses not to return as my employee I will give him an excellent   reference.'

Emily was at a loss for what to say. Pascha's words were like music to   her ears. In the end, all she could do was rise onto her toes and place a   gentle kiss on his lips. 'Thank you.'

'Don't thank me. It should never have come to this in the first place.'

'You've had a lot on your plate.'

'And don't make excuses for me.' She caught the fleeting ghost of a   smile on his handsome features before he released his hold on her and   stepped back, running a hand through his hair. 'Come; let's get you back   to the lodge and see if we can get you home. I know how badly you want   to return to your family.'

Did she? Did she really? She was certainly anxious to see for herself   that her father had made an improvement, but did she really want to go   back to that same life, a life where she lived for everyone else rather   than herself?

She'd been like that in all her relationships.

With a jolt she realised that Pascha was the first person ever to have   really known her, stripped back. When they'd first met she'd been too   anxious and angry to put on any kind of face for him.

He'd seen her, the rawness, all the components that made her Emily, and he hadn't rejected her.

No wonder her few relationships had failed. She'd moulded herself into   what she'd thought her boyfriends wanted her to be. And they'd seen   through it, become bored with a woman who agreed with everything they   said and was always obliging, doing what they wanted.

She'd been right: she hadn't been enough for any of them. How could she have been when she'd never been enough for herself?

Pascha had only ever seen her as herself and still he'd wanted her.

The question now was whether he would still want her when they were away from this spot of paradise.                       
       
           



       

* * *

Emily stood at the back of the yacht watching Aliana Island shrink away,   blinking back hot tears. This could be the last time she saw it.

In less than a week her world had changed irrevocably.

The island had become little more than a speck on the horizon when Pascha joined her on the deck.

When they'd got back to the lodge, his hair had been mussed, his jaw   covered with dark stubble. He'd looked wild and devilishly sexy.

Since their return he'd showered and shaved, styled his hair and dressed   into a beautifully ironed open-necked white shirt and dark-grey   trousers. Even his black belt looked as if it had been pressed. Add a   tie and blazer, and he could step into any boardroom.

His wildness had gone but he still looked devilishly sexy.

'Am I going to see you again?' she asked, staring up at him and taking   the bull by the horns. One thing she had learned during the past few   days was that she needed to control her own destiny. If there were   changes to be made then she had to be the one to make them.

She saw rather than heard him draw in a breath, his mouth compressing,   his features contorting into something that looked like pain. That same   pain shot straight into her heart.

'Do I take that as a no?'

Pascha watched as a whole swathe of emotions flittered over Emily's   face. The one that struck the strongest chord with him was the fleeting   anguish she hadn't been quick enough to conceal. It hurt him to see it.

He should never have given in to his desire, should have fought it   harder. And now he had to hurt a woman who had already been through too   much pain. But the alternative would only cause her far more.

'Emily, I'm sorry; you and I can never be together.' He needed to spell   it out to her. He didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. She   deserved the truth.

That familiar groove appeared.

'I need you to understand. It isn't you. It's me.'

Now her features darkened, her lips thinning, her shoulders hunching together.

'I know that's a line a lot of men use, but in this case it's the   truth.' He reached out to capture a lock of ebony hair. She flinched   away from him, stepping back. 'Emily, we can return to Europe and pick   up where we leave off here-enjoy each other's company and have fantastic   sex-but nothing can ever come of it. We have no future. I can't give   you a future.'

'How do you know that?' she whispered.

'Because I can't give you the babies you want.'

She wrapped her arms around herself. 'I don't recall us ever discussing children.'

'We didn't need to. I know you and I know family is everything to you.'   He remembered the light in her face when she'd been swinging little Ava   in the air. If there was a woman made to be a mother, this woman was  it.  'I know you want children, and one day you will have them, but I  can't  be the man to give them to you. I almost destroyed my ex-fiancée  over it  and I won't destroy you too.'

Emily loosened her arms, a questioning frown appearing.

'Yana and I were together for years,' he said, needing to help her   understand. 'She'd always wanted children-we both did-so when we became   engaged we thought it be best I get tested. I'd always known I could be   sterile but I needed to be sure before we made that final commitment.'   He shook his head, remembering how the results had knocked him  sideways.

While he had always known he could be sterile, he'd never truly believed   that he was. He'd come out the other end of treatment physically   unscathed, so how could life throw him this at so late a turn?