Page 14 of Ruthless Rustanovs

THE only good thing Eva could say about her trip to New York was it didn’t take that long. Thanks to the convenience of Alexei’s on-call jet, she was back in front of the computer in her den in time to Skype with Aaron in Italy.

His twin toddler cousins had been running him ragged all summer, and he looked tired but happy as he described his heroic efforts at keeping the two girls out of the kitchen while Steve’s wife, Maria, made pasta from scratch.

“It was really good, Mama. You think we can get Grandma to make it like that?”

“No,” her mother called from the family room, shameless in her eavesdropping. “I’m not going to fuss around with dough for hours when I can just throw the boxed kind in a pot and call it a day. That’s good enough for this family.”

“Sorry, sweetness.” Eva tossed him an apologetic look via the computer.

“That’s okay,” Aaron said, even though he looked disappointed.

She felt terrible. This was yet another reason she had grown tired of living with her parents.

At first it seemed like a great idea, since the house was so big and she could use the money she saved in rent for Aaron’s college fund and their annual vacations.

But for Eva, who had learned to enjoy cooking before she moved back in, the culinary situation had grown untenable.

Her mother didn’t welcome anything more adventurous than Chinese takeout at their dinner table.

Plus, she ruled the house kitchen with an iron fist, so Eva wouldn’t be able to make fresh pasta herself even if they had the right tools.

They would move out, she decided with sudden conviction. After she’d finished jumping through Alexei’s hoops, they would move to a new home and make a fresh start. And she’d make him homemade pasta or whatever his little heart desired at least once a week.

On the computer screen, Aaron yawned. “We’re leaving to go to Disneyland Paris tomorrow. Uncle Steve said I have go to bed early.”

“That’s very practical of Uncle Steve,” she said. “But before you go, I want you to know I won’t be able to Skype with you when you get back. I’m going on vacation, and I’m not sure how much computer access I’ll have.”

Aaron sat up, his eyes narrowing in that way that made him look so much like his father.

“You, Grandpa, and Grandma are going on vacation together?” He sounded suspicious, as he should since during the course of his young life, his grandfather had never taken a non-working vacation with his wife much less one with his daughter in tow.

“Auntie Layla’s husband is really busy right now, so we decided to take a vacation to the Bahamas, just the two of us.” She hated lying to him, but this was the most plausible excuse she could come up with to explain why she wouldn’t be available on Skype for the next two weeks.

Aaron’s suspicious squint disappeared and he nodded. “Okay, that’s good. I like Auntie Layla.”

“I know you do,” she said, laughing. Layla had been Aaron’s go-to babysitter for those first few years before her father forgave her enough to let her move back home. After that, she and Aaron had taken trips to visit Layla in Dallas at least three times a year before she moved to Pittsburgh.

She looked at Aaron’s sweet face and tried to memorize every aspect of it since she wouldn’t see it for two more weeks. “I know you’ll be good for Uncle Steve and Aunt Maria. I’ll try to text you as much as I can.”

“Okay. Have fun! Love you, Mama.” One of the nicer side effects of their summer apart was Aaron had become much more affectionate. She supposed it was fine to say you didn’t need your mama, until you got to missing her.

“Love you, too, sweetness!”

And then he was gone, leaving Eva to feel torn between her son and the man who didn’t even know he existed.

“I don’t know why you’re looking so sad,” her mother said, appearing in the doorway to the den. “Nearly brought this town to ruin and now you’re going to up and take a vacation with your girlfriend like lah-dee-dah.”

Even though her mother, Truelle St. James, was thirty years older than Eva, someone might have mistaken them for sisters if everyone in their small town didn’t already know them as mother and daughter.

They shared the same dark chocolate complexion and body type, though her mother did a lot more to keep her curves hidden, preferring to wear unassuming gray or black dresses to the bright colors Eva favored.

Other than that, at first glance anybody could tell they were related.

However, when they opened their mouths you knew within fifteen minutes, despite their genetic bond and similar career paths, they were complete opposites.

The only thing Truelle enjoyed more than running an organized and efficient house was telling others exactly how to live their lives.

And she certainly would’ve given Eva a piece of her mind if she knew who her daughter would really be spending the next two weeks with.

She had a feeling her father and Berta suspected the truth, but they were both sticking to the cover story.

As one of the few non-widowed single mothers in town, her father was embarrassed enough by her as it was.

No need to also let everyone know she would be doing “whatever it takes” for the next two weeks to keep the Drummond Oil headquarters located in Drummond.

Truelle entered the room and began reorganizing the desk by first straightening the pile of files Eva brought home with her from the office.

“If you ask me, you should stay here to make sure this mess is truly cleaned up like you say it’s supposed to be now.

But then again, you have never been one to clean up your own messes, have you?

” She gave the desk she’d tidied up a pointed look.

For a moment, Eva was almost grateful Alexei put her in this position because it meant she’d finally get a break from her mother’s constant criticisms. When she moved back home five years ago, she’d hoped they’d be able to mend the broken fences that occurred during their estrangement.

But over the course of the next half-decade, Eva had come to accept that her parents didn’t want to forgive her.

They had decided long ago to stay mad at her for disobeying them and then having the nerve to get pregnant out of wedlock.

And nothing she said or did would ever convince them she had changed from the irresponsible girl they’d pegged her as eight years ago.

“Okay, Mama,” she said. “Well, I’ve had a long day and I have a lot to do before I leave on Sunday so I’m going up to my room now.”

She felt like a teenager again over the next couple of days as she pointedly ignored her mother’s barbs and disapproving looks while rushing to pack and get two weeks’ worth of work off her desk.

Despite the constant nagging, Eva managed to get everything done and was packed and ready to go by Sunday morning.

The only thing was, she had no idea where she was going.

Neither Alexei nor anyone associated with him had been in contact with her since she left New York.

She supposed she could have looked up the number for his corporation and tried to get Emilio on the line, but then it didn’t really seem right that the onus of showing up for two-week sex slave duty should be on her.

However, when she woke on Sunday morning with still no emails or voicemails, she began to wonder if Alexei had been bluffing.

Maybe he never planned to let the Drummond Oil headquarters stay in Texas.

Maybe he just wanted to see if she’d agree to his proposal.

She shook her head in disgust. How could she have been so na?ve? He was a billionaire who dated models who were into threesomes. Why would he choose to spend his two-week vacation with her? Of course, he had been messing with her, she decided.

But just as she was about to start unpacking, a knock sounded on the front door. A few seconds later, she opened it to find Emilio on the wrap-around front porch.

“So, I guess this is actually happening, then,” she said when she saw him. “I’d half convinced myself he was bluffing.”

“Yeah, if you knew Lex, you’d know once he says something’s happening, it’s happening.”

“So, he sent you all the way out here to pick me up? Isn’t that a little below your pay grade?”

If Emilio felt the same about the situation, he didn’t let it show on his face. “He only sends me on non-business errands when he wants to make sure they get done to his exact specifications.”

She was about to ask what Alexei had “specified” for this particular errand, but he beat her to the punch with, “You ready to go?”

“Sure. Let me get my suitcase.”

Emilio shook his head. “Special orders: nothing bigger than a purse.”

Eva blinked. “Wait, he’s forbidden me to bring a suitcase with my own clothes?”

Emilio looked uncomfortable now. “Yeah. But if it makes you feel any better, everything you need will be provided for you when you reach your destination.”

That in no way made her feel better. “I don’t want everything provided for me. I want my own things. I can’t believe this!” But she stopped herself before she could go into full hysterics. It wasn’t Emilio’s fault his boss was a complete dick.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let me get my purse.”

Less than thirty minutes later, she and Emilio climbed aboard Alexei’s plane.

“You should sit there,” he said, indicating a white leather seat on the left side of the plane with a manila folder placed on it.

She picked up the folder and tried to hand it to him. “Is this yours?

Emilio didn’t take it. “No, that’s definitely meant for you,” he said, shifting awkwardly before making a big deal of sitting in the seat across from her.

She opened the folder to find a single print-out indicating that Alexei Rustanov had been tested for several sexually transmitted diseases and everything came back clean. Then it was her turn to cover her embarrassment by taking her seat.

Her cheeks were still burning by the time the plane took off. She really couldn’t have been more furious with herself for managing to get re-involved with a man like Alexei Rustanov.