My Special Angel (21 page)

Read My Special Angel Online

Authors: Marcia Evanick

BOOK: My Special Angel
2.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She wrapped her arms around his neck and wiggled. “Why only five minutes?”

He held her still. “Because that’s about how long I can hold out without making love to you.”

She grinned for a moment before reaching for a picture and turning serious. “This is me four years ago when I was right off the boat. I’d just landed my first singing job at some little piano bar.”

“I can tell.”

“How?” She glanced at the photo. She had been wearing the same red dress she had worn to dinner with Owen on their first date.

“The eyes.” He spread out the pictures and lined them up in perfect chronological order. “See”—he pointed to the first photo—“here you are happy, and your eyes are filled with dreams.” His finger moved to the next photo. “This one you are still dreaming, but it’s becoming harder.”

“That’s when I realized it was going to take more than hard work and dreams to get my family out of war-torn Europe.”

“In this one the dreaming had stopped.” His finger moved on. “And then here is where the secrets began.”

Nadia bit her lip and studied the publicity photo. “One night after I was done with my set, a very wealthy gentleman paid me a visit. He offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse.” She stood up and walked away from the table and Owen. “It seemed this gentleman had a grown daughter, Maria, whom he loved very much, and he was willing to go to any lengths to protect her. Maria fell in love with a man whom she knew her father would never approve of and was secretly married.”

“Anthony Ciotri,” muttered Owen.

“How you say, binko?”

“It’s ‘bingo,’ love. Continue.”

“Tony and Maria kept their marriage a secret from everyone until the first baby was on its way. They told Maria’s father, and as you can imagine, all hell broke lose. Tony hid Maria and their young son and tried to make a name for himself the only way he knew how, on the streets. As his reputation and wealth grew, so did his list of enemies. Maria and her father talked and fought constantly. She refused to leave Tony and was now carrying their second child. Maria’s father realized that Maria and his grandchildren needed more protection than Tony could provide. No one, not even Tony’s closest associates, knew of his family. Tony’s enemies were starting to dig around, trying to find his weak spot.”

“So Maria’s father hired you to play Tony’s mistress,” guessed Owen.

“I wouldn’t take any money from Tony, because I wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from, but Maria’s father was another story. His money came from shipping lines and fiber optics, and all of it was legit. Between his money and the money I was then making at the nightclub, I saved enough to bring my entire family over.”

“Didn’t Maria mind that you were living with Tony?”

“I didn’t live with Tony, Owen.” She paced the kitchen floor. “We were all play-acting. Maria’s father set her and the children up in a fancy apartment in Manhattan. Tony and I had the apartment next door. There were three apartments on our floor, Maria’s, mine, and some jet-setting playboy who was never in New York. Tony would pick me up at the club, and we’d go home together every night. He went to Maria’s apartment, and I went to mine. A couple of times we held a party in my apartment as a front. For two years we played our parts and fooled the world and his enemies.” She smiled at some distant memory. “I even baby-sat a couple times so that Maria and he could spend some time alone.”

Owen glanced down at the last couple of photos and now understood the secrets filling her eyes. For two years his Nadia had ceased to exist. No wonder he had a hard time relating these pictures to the woman he loved. They were two entirely different people. She had sacrificed twenty-four months of her life for the love of her family. “Was it worth it?”

She glanced at the glamorous, if not sometimes gaudy, woman staring up at her from the photos and softly smiled. Her past was lying out in front of the man she loved, and he hadn’t run in terror or disgust.

“I’d do it again if I had to.” She glanced around the kitchen. “Some good did come out of it. I didn’t have to wait on tables all day, so I worked on my children’s songs. By the time the trial ended, I had enough to contact a record company that had shown interest in my idea for a children’s album.”

“What happened to Tony and Maria?”

“After he was sentenced, she gave him a choice: either accept her father’s offer of a job in a foreign country when he was released from prison or she wouldn’t be there when they unlocked the gates. It seems Maria had got tired of seeing her husband’s picture plastered all over the newspaper with me on his arm, and she said the boys needed a father.” Nadia stacked the pictures into one neat pile. “Last I heard, Tony will be moving to Brazil in a couple of years.”

Owen drummed his fingers on the table. “Do you ever hear from any of them?”

“Nope. Maria’s father knows where I live, though. Two days after I moved here, IRS arrived with a note of thanks from him. He was eternally grateful that I never spilled the beans about Tony having a wife and all during the trial.”

“You lied on the stand?” His fingers stilled.

“Of course not. This is America. I could go to jail for lying in court. No one even asked me if Tony had a wife. They kept questioning me about his business, and I told them the truth. I knew nothing.”

Owen stood up. “So now I know all your secrets.” He slowly advanced toward her.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t go spilling the beans to my family about how I saved enough to bring them all over.”

“How do they think you made that much money?”

“This is America, Owen. They still believe that anything is possible.”

“Really?” He backed her against the counter and placed a hand on either side of her. His pleasant expression vanished. “If you ever pull another stunt like that again, I will personally take you over my knee and spank you so that you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

Nadia’s eyes opened wider, and she pressed her back into the Formica countertop. “What are you yelling for?”

“Because I’m furious with you.” He smacked his sore hand against the counter and grimaced as pain shot up his arm. “Don’t you have any idea what could have happened to you?” he demanded.

“I...”

“Surely you aren’t that naive not to know what kind of danger you were exposed to.” He crowded her against the counter and shouted, “Don’t they have thugs in Russia?” He didn’t know if he wanted to choke her or kiss her senseless. He raised his hand and tenderly brushed her cheek. “You could have been killed.”

She watched in wonder as his gaze caressed her face. “I wasn’t.” She reached up and traced the frown pulling at the corner of his mouth. “When things got a little risky, Tony hired a bodyguard for me.”

Owen pushed away from the counter and thrust his fingers through his hair. “Lord, Nadia, didn’t you see the danger?”

“Every day.” Her gaze followed him as he paced in front of her. “I also saw the danger of having my family stay in an unstabilized country. I saw the killing and the fighting every day on CNN, and I prayed I wouldn’t see anyone I knew lying dead in the streets from sniper fire or another senseless round of mortars.”

Owen froze and really looked at Nadia. The fear she had been feeling still had the power to shake her voice. What would he have done if it had been his family over there? Would he have had the courage to risk his own life to bring them to safety? He liked to think he would have, but Nadia had proved she did possess such courage. He opened his arms and said, “I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I love you more.”

She flew into his arms murmuring some melodic Russian words.

He laughed and hugged her tighter. “That sounds familiar—what does it mean?” He remembered she had whispered those same words deep into the night.

“It’s Russian for ‘I love you.’” She smiled radiantly and reached for his mouth.

Owen swept her up into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Your five minutes are up.”

She ran her hand down his chest and over the front of his jeans. She chuckled when he nearly lost his balance on the first step. “That’s not all that’s up.”

He shifted her weight and continued up the steps, grinning. “Have you no shame, woman!”

Nadia threw back her head and laughed with pure joy. “No, Owen, the shame is gone along with the secrets. With you I have only love and honor.”

He slowly lowered her to her feet beside the bed. He reached over and turned on the light. His gaze bore into hers. This was the Nadia who first came to America. Her eyes glistened with hopes and dreams for the future. There wasn’t even the faintest shadow of the secrets she had carried so bravely. “Lord, how I love you.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with the promise of fulfilling every one of her dreams.

 

* * *

 

Nadia smiled against his warm chest. In his sleep his breathing was slow and even. She reached down to pull up the sheet as a cool evening breeze stirred the curtains. After a moment she gave up and wrote it off as a lost cause. The sheet was helplessly tangled beneath Owen’s legs, and she hadn’t the heart to wake him. She slowly reached over the side of the bed and pulled up the quilt that had been pushed to the floor during their lovemaking.

She gently tucked the quilt around their naked bodies and snuggled back into his arms. Even in sleep his arms cradled her so tenderly. She laid her head back down onto his chest and closed her eyes and welcomed sleep.

A moment later her eyes flew open, but she didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t even breathe. There it was! She hadn’t imagined it. A soft melody teased the corner of her mind and grew with each passing moment. It was a song full of hopes, dreams, and love. It was a song about a wise old owl named Owen who refused to give up. Nadia closed her eyes and allowed the music to wash over her, to surround her with its simple joy. How fitting it was that she was composing the last song for the album as she lay in Owen’s loving arms.

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

“Nadia, if we don’t hurry, we are going to miss the plane,” said Owen. He traded Sebastian his three-year-old son, Jeremiah, for the two suitcases the butler had just carried down the stairs.

“I’m coming!” shouted Nadia from the kitchen, where she was giving Milly and her mother last-minute instructions on eighteen-month-old Zachary’s schedule. “Now, remember, he doesn’t like green vegetables, only yellow ones.” She double-checked to make sure their itinerary was taped to the front of the refrigerator, complete with hotels, phone numbers, and emergency numbers. “Make sure he drinks his milk, and don’t let him eat the soap in the bathtub again.”

“You are only going for ten days, Nadia,” pleaded her mother. “I think I can handle my own grandchild for ten days.” She scooped the grinning Zachary from his high chair and whispered loving words to the child in Russian.

“Nadia!” cried Owen from the foyer. “Did you remember to pack your vitamin pills?”

She reached on top of the refrigerator, grabbed the huge blue bottle of prenatal vitamin pills, and dropped them into her purse. “Yes, dear.” She gave her slightly rounded tummy a gentle pat and followed her mother, Milly, and her son out of the kitchen. “Did you remember the tickets?”

Owen checked his pocket. “Yes.” He spotted his wife as she took Zachary from his grandmother’s arms. “The driver is waiting outside, love.”

Nadia gave her son a kiss and a big hug. “Let him wait a moment longer.” She gave him another noisy kiss before handing him over to Owen. She reached for little Jeremiah sitting on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Come here, lovely, and give your mommy another kiss.” Jeremiah came willingly. “Now, you promise to be a good boy for Aunt Verna, and Grandmom and Papa, and for Sebastian and Milly, and for Uncle Stevo and Aunt Yelena...”

“Sweetheart, if you name all your family staying here to take care of two little boys, we will surely miss the plane, and how will that look? Your first European tour, and you’ll miss your debut.” He took Jeremiah from his wife’s arms and handed him to Milosh.

Nadia gazed at the angelic faces of her sons and felt the tears start to burn in the back of her eyes. “Maybe we should wait until...”

Owen pulled her out of the door as Sebastian hurried in front of them with the luggage. “You promised the record company and your little fans an eight-city tour two years ago.”

“That was before I knew I was pregnant with Zachary.” She glanced over her shoulder and waved to everyone crowding out the front door to wish them farewell.

“If we don’t go now, it will be another two years.” He glanced at her stomach and grinned. “Winslow will need his mommy home with him for the first couple of months.”

“I’m not naming our baby Winslow.” She protectively laid her hand against the slight bulge as Owen helped her into the backseat. “Who’s to say it isn’t a girl, anyhow?”

Owen waved to his sons and their twelve babysitters as the limo pulled away from the house. He glanced at his wife and grinned. “Sofia swiped your teacup the other day and read the leaves.” He reached over and kissed her motherly concern away. Their sons were in great hands, and he was finally going to have Nadia all to himself. Just him and a couple of thousand adoring little fans. “She said she saw blue again.” He glanced at the smoked privacy glass separating them from the driver and grinned. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered, “Lots and lots of blue.” His mouth slanted down onto hers, and neither one of them paid any attention to the miles that rolled away as they headed for the airport.

 

The End

 

. . .

 

More Marcia Evanick Titles
Now Available as EBooks:
Originally published by Loveswept

 

 

Playing for Keeps
My Special Angel
In Daddy’s Arms
Gretchen and the Big Bad Wolf
Out of a Dream
Over the Rainbow
Satin Sheets and Strawberries
Guardian Spirit
Midnight Kiss
Perfect Morning
Sizzle
Indescribably Delicious

 

 

www.MarciaEvanick.com

Other books

Asterisk by Campbell Armstrong
Hunter's Way by Gerri Hill
Coyote Rising by Allen Steele
Waking Sarah by Krystal Shannan
La torre de la golondrina by Andrzej Sapkowski
Call Me Ted by Ted Turner, Bill Burke
Love & Sorrow by Chaplin, Jenny Telfer