Page 24 of Convincing Alex (Stanislaskis #4)

“I watch your show many times,” Nadia said as she popped in from the kitchen. Alex’s mother’s handsome face was flushed pink

from oven heat. “I like it.”

“Well, that Vicki’s not hard to watch.” Zack stood behind his wife now, rubbing her shoulders.

“Men always go for the cheap floozies,” Rachel put in. “How about you, Alex? Caught any ‘Secret Sins’?”

“No.” Not that he’d admit. “McNee keeps me up on what’s happening in Millbrook.”

“It must be hard.” Sydney, looking pale but blissfully relaxed in her corner of the couch, sipped her ginger ale. “The pace.”

“It’s murder.” Bess grinned. “I love it.”

“So, how is it you meet Alexi?” Yuri asked.

“He arrested me.”

There was a moment of silence, while Alex aimed a killing look at Bess. Then a burst of laughter that sent the dog careening

around the room again.

“Did I miss a joke?” Mikhail demanded as he swung through the door with Griff.

“No.” Rachel chuckled again while her brother sat on the arm of the couch, beside his wife. “But I have a feeling it’s going

to be a good one. Come on, Bess, this I have to hear.”

She told them, while Alex interrupted a half-dozen times to disagree or correct or put in his own perspective. Even as they

sat at the big old table to enjoy Nadia’s pot roast, they were shouting with laughter or calling out questions.

“He put you in a cell, but you still go out with him.” This from Mikhail.

“Well.” Bess ran her tongue over her teeth. “He is kind of cute.”

With a hearty laugh, Yuri slapped his son on the back. “The ladies, they always say so.”

Alex scooped up potatoes. “Thanks, Papa.”

“Is good to be attractive to women.” He wiggled his brows at his wife. “Then, when you pick one, she is helpless to resist.”

“I picked you,” Nadia told him, passing biscuits to Nick. “You were very slow. Like a bear with, ah...” She struggled for

the right word. “Soft brains.” She ignored Yuri’s snort of objection. “He did not come to court me. So I courted him.”

“Every time I turn, there she is. In my way.” When he looked at his wife, Bess saw memories and more in his eyes. “There was

no prettier girl in the village than Nadia. Then she was mine.”

“I liked your big hands and shy eyes,” she told him. Her smile was quick and lovely. “Soon you were not so shy. But my boys,”

she added, turning the smile on Bess, “they were never shy with the girls.”

“Why waste time?” On impulse, Alex put a hand on Bess’s cheek and turned her face to his. Her smile was puzzled. Then surprise

shot into her eyes as he covered her mouth with his. Not a quick, friendly kiss, this, but a searing one that made her head

buzz.

She had no way of knowing that he’d never kissed a woman not of his family at his mother’s table. Nor that by doing so, he

was telling those he loved that this was the woman.

As the table erupted with applause, Bess cleared her throat. “No,” she managed. “Not a bit shy.”

Nadia blinked back tears and raised her glass. She understood what her son had told her and felt the bittersweet pleasure

that came from knowing the last of her children had given his heart. “Welcome,” she said to Bess.

A little confused, Bess reached for her glass as all the others were lifted. “Thank you.” She sipped, relieved when the chattering

started again.

How easy to fall in love with them, she realized. All of them were so warm, so open, so comfortable with each other. Her parents

would never have had such a sweetly intimate conversation at the table. Nor had they ever embraced her with the verve and

passion both Yuri and Nadia showed their children.

Was this what she’d been missing all of those years? Bess wondered. Had lacking something like this caused her to be so socially

clumsy as a child, and, making up for it, so socially active as an adult?

Still, what she had had, and what she hadn’t, had forged her into what she was, so she couldn’t regret it. Well, perhaps a

little, she mused, falling unknowingly into the family tradition by sneaking the dog bits of food under the table. It was

hard not to regret it a little when you saw how lovely it could be to be part of such a solid whole.

Absorbing everything, she glanced around the table. And found Mikhail’s eyes on her. This time she smiled. “You’re doing it

again,” she told him.

“Yes. I want to carve you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your face.” He reached out to take it in his hand. The conversation continued around them, as if he handled women at the

dinner table regularly. “Very fascinating. Mahogany would be best.”

Amused, she sat patiently while he turned her face this way and that. “Is this a joke?”

“Mikhail never jokes about his work,” Sydney commented, coaxing one more green bean into her son. “I’m just surprised it’s

taken him so long to demand you sit for him.”

“Sit?” She shook her head, and then her eyes widened as it all came together. “Oh, of course. Stanislaski. The artist. I’ve

seen your work. Lusted after it, actually.”

“You will sit for me, and I’ll give you a piece. You’ll choose it.”

“I could hardly turn down an offer like that.”

“Good.” Satisfied, he went back to his meal. “She’s very beautiful,” he said to Alex, in such an offhand way that Bess laughed.

“I’d say that Stanislaski taste runs to the odd, but your wife proves me wrong.”

Mikhail brushed a hand over Sydney’s halo of auburn hair, stroked a finger down her classically lovely face. “There are different

kinds of beauty. You’ll come to the studio next week.”

“Don’t bother to argue.” Sydney caught Mikhail’s hand, squeezed it. “It won’t do you a bit of good.”

At the other end of the table, Rachel winced. Nadia leaned closer, spoke gently. “How far apart?”

Rachel gave a little sigh. “Eight, ten minutes. They’re very mild yet.”

“What’s mild?” Zack glanced at her, and then his mouth all but dropped to his knees. “Oh, God, now? Now? ”

“Not this very minute.” She would be calm, Rachel told herself and took a deep, cleansing breath to prove it. “I think you

have time for some of Mama’s cream cake.”

“She’s in labor.” He gaped across the table at his equally panicked brother.

“We’re not ready here.” Nick stumbled to his feet. “We’re ready back at home. I’m supposed to call the doctor, but I don’t

have the number.”

“Mama does,” Rachel assured her husband’s younger brother. Then she lifted a hand to her husband’s. “Take it easy, Muldoon.

There’s plenty of time.”

“Time, hell. We’re going now. Shouldn’t we go now?” Zack demanded of Nadia.

She smiled and nodded. “It would be best for you, Zack.”

“But, Mama—”

Rachel’s protest was cut off by Nadia’s gentle flow of Ukrainian, the gist of which had a great deal to do with placating

frightened husbands.

“She should put her feet up,” Mikhail announced. “This helped you, yes?”

“Yes,” Sydney agreed. “But I think we should wait until she gets to the hospital.”

“Nine-one-one.” Alex shoved away from the table and sprang to his feet. “I’ll call.”

“Oh, sit down.” Rachel waved an annoyed hand at him. “I don’t need a cop.”

“An ambulance,” he insisted.

“I’m not sick, I’m in labor.”

“I take her in the truck.” Yuri was already up, prepared to lift his baby girl into his big arms. “We get there very fast.”

While the men began to argue in a mixture of languages, Nadia rose quietly and went into the kitchen to call Rachel’s obstetrician.

“I’ve already been through this,” Mikhail was saying to Alex. “I know how to handle it.”

“Ha.” Their father pushed them both aside and pounded a fist on his broad chest. “Me, four times. You know nothing.”

“We don’t have the tape recorder or the music.” Nick ran a hand through his flow of sandy hair. He was desperately afraid

he’d be sick. Though no one was listening to him, he continued to babble. “The video camera. We’ve got to get the video camera.”

“Honey, you want some water? You want some juice?” When she yelped, Zack turned dead white. “Another one? It hasn’t been ten

minutes, has it?”

“You’re breaking my hand.” Rachel shook it free and sent a pleading look to Sydney.

“Okay, guys, back off.” The steel under velvet that made Sydney a successful businesswoman snapped into her voice. “Alex,

go upstairs and get your sister a pillow for the ride. Yuri, go start the truck. That’s a very good idea. Nick, you, Mikhail

and Griff go back to your apartment and get what Rachel needs. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“How do you get there?” Mikhail demanded.

“I have a car.” Bess was watching the family drama with fascinated eyes. “We can fit three in a pinch.”

“Wonderful.” Dispersing the troops with all the flair of a general, Sydney gave her husband a kiss and a shove. “Get going.

Zack and Nadia will ride with Yuri and Rachel. I’ll go with Alex and Bess.”

As the next contraction hit, Rachel began to breathe slowly, steadily. “Sorry,” she said to Bess in between breaths, “to put

you out.”

“No problem.” She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself asking what it felt like to go into labor at a family dinner.

There’d be time for that later.

“I called the doctor, and Natasha.” Nadia came back into the room, pleased that Sydney had organized the troops. “Natasha

and her family are coming.”

“We should go.” Zack helped Rachel to her feet and swallowed hard. “Shouldn’t we go?”

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Sydney and Bess were the best of friends. It was difficult to be otherwise, when

they’d been crammed together in one seat while Alex drove like a madman back to Manhattan.

They talked about clothes, a few mutual friends they’d discovered, and the Stanislaski men. Sydney agreed that it was very

forbearing of Bess not to mention the quality of Alex’s driving, after he’d been so critical of hers.

By the time they found their way to the maternity level, Rachel was already settled in a birthing room, Zack had gotten over

the first stages of panic, and Yuri was patting a pocket full of cigars.

“She’s in the early stages,” Nadia explained to them in the corridor. “Company is good for her.”