Page 6 of Staking His Claim

He’d expected to find the child in her arms.

He should’ve known better. There wasn’t a maternal bone in Ella     McLeod’s frozen body. No softness. No tender feelings. Only sharp, legal-eagle     eyes that she usually disguised with a pair of glasses—and from all accounts, a     steel-trap brain. According to the rumor mill her law practice did very well. No     doubt her success came from divorce dollars siphoned off men with avaricious     ex-wives.

Ella hadn’t answered. A haunted flicker in her eye captured his     attention, but then the fleeting expression vanished and her focus shifted     beyond him. Wheeling about, Yevgeny spotted the crib.

Two strides and he stood beside it. The baby lay inside, snugly     swaddled and fast asleep. One tiny hand curled beside her cheek, the fingers     perfectly formed. Her lashes were impossibly long, forming dark curves against     plump cheeks. Yevgeny’s heart contracted and an unexpected, fierce rush of     emotion swept him.

It took only an instant for him to fall deeply, utterly     irrevocably in love.

“She’s perfect,” he breathed, his gaze taking in every last     detail. The thatch of dark hair—the Volkovoy genes. The red bow of her pursed     mouth.

A smile tilted the corners of his mouth up.

Reaching out, he gently touched the curve where chin became     cheek with his index finger.

“Don’t wake her!”

The strident demand broke the mood. Turning his head, Yevgeny     narrowed his gaze and pinned the woman in the bed.

“I had no intention of waking her,” he said softly, careful not     to disturb the infant.

“It’s only a matter of time before she wakens with you hovering     over her like that.”

“I never hover.” But he moved away from the cot—and closer to     the bed.

Ella didn’t respond. But he’d seen that look in her eyes     before. She wasn’t bothering to argue...not because she’d been swayed by his     denial, but because she was so damn certain of the rightness of her own     opinion.

The woman was a pain in the ass.

The polar opposite of her sister, she was the least motherly     woman he’d ever encountered—with the single exception of his own mother.

Maybe it was as well she wasn’t cradling the baby; she’d freeze     the little bundle if she got close enough. Ella was ice to the core—he’d been     mistaken to imagine a thaw.

“Dmitri called to tell me you’re planning to give up the child     for adoption?” No discussion. No consultation. She’d made a life-changing     decision that affected all of them, by herself. It was typical of the woman’s     arrogant selfishness.

“Then you must’ve heard that your brother and my sister have     decided not to adopt the baby.”

Was that irony buried in her voice? He couldn’t read her     expression. “Yes—Dmitri told me at the office.”

“At the same time that Keira was visiting me.”

This time he definitely detected an edge. But he was less     concerned about her annoyance than discovering the fate of the oblivious newborn     in the cot. “So it’s true? You intend to give up the baby just like that?”

Her chin shot up three notches at the snapping sound his     fingers made. “I will take care of the arrangements to find a new set of parents     as soon as I can.” Ella glanced down at the phone in her lap, then back at     Yevgeny. “I’ve already left a message for the social worker who’s handling the     adoption proceedings for Keira and Dmitri, notifying her of their change of mind     and requesting that she get in touch with me ASAP.”

“Of course you have.” It certainly hadn’t taken her long to     start the process to get rid of the baby. Anger sizzled inside him. “You never     considered keeping her?” Not that he’d ever allow the child to stay in her     care.

She shook her head, and the hair shrouding her face shimmered     like the moonlit wisps of cloud outside the window. “Not an option.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

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