---

“Mr. Maximilian.”

Aleksander looked up from the book he was reading to see Matthias in the library doorway. “Yes?”

“Security informed that your parents have just passed the gates.”

“Thanks, Matthias. Please show them in here.”

When his butler left the room, Aleksander exchanged a worried glance with Ava and squeezed her hand before standing. “Are you ready for a nasty scene?”

No, I am not. “Surely she won’t make a scene.”

Aleksander huffed. “You don’t know my mother.”

She smiled at him, more confident than she felt. “She can’t be worse than Dr. Wang.”

He was about to say she could when Kira’s voice welcomed them to the house and informed his mother that Aleksander and Ava were in the library.

Thaddeus entered the room first, with a blonde bombshell on his arms, whom he introduced as Carla, just to be corrected by said bombshell, who told them her name was Carola.

His father followed, a strange smile on his lips, a mix of happiness and apology, with Meredith at his side, clueless about the wedding, but Aleksander preferred it that way. He wanted to tell her in person.

And last, came Lydia, who greeted Aleksander and said, “Why don’t we all go see Olivia while you talk to your mother?”

Meredith looked Ava up and down, the mistrust clear in her expression, then looked at Aleksander. “And what exactly is so important that you need to talk to me alone?”

“Good luck, Alek,” Thaddeus said, as Matthias left a tray of refreshments on the center table, and led the way out of the library and up the stairs to see Olivia.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Mother,” Aleksander said.

“I think I’ll stand right here for now,” Meredith replied stubbornly. “Doctor, why don’t you head upstairs so that I can have this conversation with my son?”

“This conversation concerns Ava, Mother.”

“Is it about Olivia?” Meredith’s eyes grew wide with sincere concern.

“No,” Aleksander said and the concern evaporated from Meredith’s face. “It’s a delicate matter. My relationship with Ava—”

“Relationship?” Meredith looked baffled for a moment. “Isn’t she the doctor of your daughter?”

Aleksander took Ava’s hand in his, more to calm his own nerves than to comfort her. “Mother, we’re serious.”

“Aleksander, whatever this is, it’s ridiculous,” Meredith said, plucking a glass of water from the center table and taking a sip.

“We’re getting married.”

“Are you insane?” Meredith stared at Aleksander like she didn’t know him; like they hadn’t been mother and son their entire lives. She turned and headed towards the armchair to take a seat before she collapsed from the enormity of the news. “Are you in love with this woman or something?”

“Yes.” Aleksander kept his voice steady. “And even if I weren’t, I would marry whoever Olivia wanted, if it would make her happy.”

“Olivia? What does she have to do with this…this…” Meredith waved her bejewelled hand towards her son and Ava. “This.”

“Well, she asked me to marry Ava as a Christmas’ gift,” he said smiling. “It’s quite endearing.”

Disbelief warred with confusion and alarm on Meredith’s face.

Ava had no idea a person could feel all those things simultaneously, much less show them on her face.

“Oh, come on,” she bit off. “It’s not endearing. It’s devious. She’s playing you like a piano.”

“Well, yeah. She set us up. That’s clear enough.” With a big smile on his face, he turned to Ava and said, “How does a kid learn to be so brightly manipulative? She’s eight, for God’s sake.”

Meredith’s eyes narrowed on Ava like a lioness who’d just spied her prey. She waved a long ring-laden finger at the younger woman and said to Aleksander, “She is the one banging on the keys and making you dance her tune.”

He shook his head then and grinned. “If Olivia—and Ava—see me as a Steinway, they can play as much as they like.”

Humor had Ava’s shoulders shaking. She chewed her top lip and had to put a hand over her mouth, pretending she was coughing to disguise her chuckling.

With the movement, Ava’s fifteen carat emerald-cut pink diamond ring caught fire and drew Meredith’s eyes to her hand.

“And she has been teaching your child to do the playing. She is playing with your and your child’s weakened state and vulnerable feelings.”

Ava was stunned speechless, not sure what to say as Meredith slammed her glass down so hard it shattered across the table, then glowered at her.

“She’s going along with a little girl’s foolish dreams because she is nothing more than a gold-digging whore who’s manipulated a dying child just to get to you and your wealth.” Meredith shook a finger at Ava. “If you think you can get away with this, you’re wrong.”

The enormity of the offense brought a wave of rage so powerful over Aleksander it was everything he could do to not reply with every expletive he knew and he was on his feet in an instant. “You’ll apologize now, Mother.”

“What?”

“Either you apologize to Ava and treat her with due respect and courtesy, or you can leave my house right now.”

He got his stubbornness from her, and she wasn’t going to budge. She settled back into her seat, her eyes like knives boring into Ava who stared back with large, fiery eyes.

“You’re old enough to choose your own mistakes, my son.” And looking at Ava, with a tone that said exactly the opposite, Meredith haughtily said, “I apologize.”

Realizing it would need another kind of approach to smooth the edges with his mother, Aleksander said, “We are going to get married, and you are going to cooperate, if not for me, then for Olivia.”

“For Olivia, then.”

Christ, give me patience. “I am so glad for that.” He stood and took Ava by the hand, leading her towards the stairs, but he turned back towards his mother and quipped, “And make no mistake, Mother, I will keep my promise.”

---

Ava rested her chin on her upraised knees as though she could better see him from that perch—or perhaps see inside him, to the very core of his being, to the secret part of his heart that beat for her.

The silence stretched out for a long time until Aleksander cleared his throat. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Alek,” Ava said. “You did nothing wrong.”

I am not apologizing for what I did, but for what I didn’t do.

He gulped his brandy and sat on the edge of the bed. “But what she said about you…”

“I don’t care what she said.” Ava shook her head. “What I do care about is Olivia—and you—and I would endure a hundred Merediths if it meant seeing her smile.”

“You have no idea what damage a hundred Merediths could cause.” Aleksander smiled, but it was a sad smile, one that filled Ava with her own grief.

He had enough to worry about without thinking of her feelings, so she pushed her own thoughts away and smiled. “Really, Alek. Don’t worry about me. I just want you to be sure you’re doing the right thing.”

And are you sure of it? “Yes, you’re right.” He cocked his head to the side. Her blonde hair was unbound and flowed in waves down over her practical sleep clothes—that she insisted on wearing because she wanted to always be ready in an instant if Olivia needed her—and he saw he was going to marry not only a beautiful woman, but the most amazing woman in the world.

He smiled at her.

“What?”

“I’m a little drunk, but you look amazing.”

She let out a little laugh. “I look amazing because you’re a little drunk?”

“No.” He shook his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead and giving him a boyish look. “Some of it—your amazingness—it’s just knowing who you are and being good with it, doing what you do, and, well, being happy doing it. And some of it’s those sea-witch eyes—I can’t decide if they are blue, or if they are green—and that sexy mouth. Rachel was beautiful. She took your breath away.”

He’s a little drunk, Ava…allowances should be made. Ava sighed to herself. “I know.”

“But she, I think, she didn’t really know who she was. Perhaps she was too young. Or perhaps she just allowed me, with my too bossy ways to be enough for both of us.” He crawled on the bed in her direction, sitting on his legs and gazing at her.

“And?”

And he forgot what he was going to say, or where his thoughts were even headed, but it was something to do with a comparison between Rachel and Ava that Ava would have appreciated.

But all he could think now was that unlike Rachel, Ava was here. Steadfast, strong, stubborn.

He wasn’t going to let her get hurt by his mother. He captured her mouth with his, swearing to himself he would put Meredith in her place tomorrow.

She was here, with him, and she felt like heaven. The soft scent of her hair, the slight taste of salt on her skin—she was, he thought, born to rest in the shelter of his arms. And he was born to hold her.

His hands were on her, his fingers running along her arms down to the hemline of her long sleeve shirt, which he pulled over her head before staring down at her nearly naked body.

His eyes flashed hot, as he leaned down, fitting his mouth over hers, gently at first, and letting his lips move over hers softly, slowly, with only enough pressure to make her feel him.

Her anticipation began to build, starting in her core, rising through her body, and electrifying all her nerve endings.

Blood began pumping through her veins, faster and harder. When his mouth opened over hers, she naturally followed and opened hers, as their tongues intertwined. She nearly moaned at the sensations sending the sparks shooting through her and ending abruptly between her legs.

She lifted her arms from her sides and wrapped them around his neck.

He deepened the kiss as he deftly unhooked her bra and his hands cupped her breasts.

“Alek,” she moaned in his mouth, pressing herself into his hands, wanting more. And wanting it now.

Yet, he kept kissing her, his mouth following her jaw, and down her neck. She arched the column of her throat for his lips. She closed her eyes as the sensations, hot and wet, slid over her skin. His hands shifted as he tugged on her pants and she lifted her hips eagerly.

His eyes glinted darkly as he surveyed what he held, then his eyes flicked up to hers. Deliberately holding her gaze, he lowered his head—and licked—first one aching nipple, then the other; long, slow licks.

He observed the effect on her face with transparent male satisfaction as she arched her back for more.

But he scooted back, settled between her legs, took off her panties, and hooking his hands under her knees, he explored the silkiness of her inner thighs, slowly, enjoying each trembling breath, each low moan that left her.

And then he closed his mouth on her already pulsing sex, making her let out a little cry. Another kiss, another lick, exploring leisurely as her hands twisted his hair and pulled.

“Ah, Alek.”

She was so close. He could feel it. He could taste it. As he brought his fingers into the play, he heard himself growl low in his throat, a sound of possession, a pale echo of the blood thrumming in his ears, pumping insistently in his manhood.

And as badly as she needed to come, he needed her to come even more. Bringing a woman to orgasm had always been a particular pleasure for him. With most women he’d known, even if no deep affection was involved, a climax required a bit more than a skilled tongue and fingers. It took closeness, trust. Intimacy.

Feeling Ava come beneath his hand, his mouth, his body, made him feel connected. Alive. “Come for me, Ava. I want your pleasure.”

Then she arched her hips and began to ride his tongue in a halting rhythm, chasing her bliss. The unbearable sweetness made him moan in her folds. His painfully hard cock pulsed with impatience.

She felt the pleasure build and burn until it overtook her and she was caught up in flames, aware of nothing but his touch as her hands clutched him to her, as she gave him everything she had and asked for nothing in return.

He pushed himself up and leaned over her.

His face hard, set, the dark planes etched with desire, as he nudged her parted thighs wider so that his hips settled between.

Her body was on fire as he was hot and heavy over her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she sighed in ecstasy, in anticipation, as he placed the head of his penis against her entrance.

“You are exquisite.”

She breathed in his lips, “And, you, you’re a magnificent creature, Aleksander Maximilian.”

Her words told him she had never been loved as she should and it made him even more determined to show her how magnificent she was. “You should have always felt like this.”

His mouth was wet and warm on hers again and his tongue filled her mouth as he pushed inside her.

Her body welcomed him and it felt good—right, possible—to be inside her. Christ.

He was so much. And it was so hot. He filled her completely, making her insides stretch to accommodate him. She hadn’t imagined there was any pleasure left in her, but a spark caught and she groaned at the new sensation rocking through her. “You feel hard.”

“Hard is good.” His voice was husky as he pulled back only to push forward, farther.

“And big.”

“Big is better,” he said with a strained laugh, stroking into her slowly at first, letting the pure ecstasy of their joining wash over him.

When he moved, she moaned, and when he shifted, she nearly screamed.

He stared into her eyes and whispered, “And you feel just like heaven, the best of all.”

And then he was moving fast, eventually pounding into her.

She shuddered, as she responded to the blindingly hot sensations. Sensations she never had before felt; much less imagined possible.

“Alek.” She pulled his head down, drew him inside her, as her muscles seized.

He insinuated his hand between their bodies and stoked the fires consuming her.

Her body clenched and she went over the edge, a wild climax over taking her in such a fierce blaze she had no air in her lungs to scream out.

“Christ,” he swore. She was his. And then, with his crisis upon him, he knew the truth. No. He was hers.

He came hard, feeling it from head to toe, that very last thrust overwhelming him.

Then everything seemed to get completely, almost painfully quiet.

And there they were, with her body pressed down on the mattress by his body, his head on her shoulders, and his warm breath on her neck.

Both bodies hot and sweaty.

And it was more than good, better, or best. It was perfect.

He rolled over and took her with him, holding her against his heart, stroking horizontal eights on her back.

She sighed languorously, her lids dropping. She could feel herself drifting away, totally sated, completely warm. Protect, cherished. Loved.

He felt her relaxing against him in surrender and his thoughts ebbed from male pride and physical satisfaction to the near incoherence of sleep.

As his mind closed in slumber, he was vaguely aware that he had been tracing his own wants on her skin.

Infinity.

Forever. And more.

---

Aleksander had already been up for an hour. He’d barely been able to sleep with all the things in his mind.

And Meredith was up simply because she found it impossible to believe her son was going to marry the doctor whom she had met a week ago and who had requested that she be taken back to Manhattan. She could feel the terror of a known monster insinuating its fingers in her mind.

He didn’t greet her, but instead busied himself by poking through the refrigerator.

Meredith checked on the Thanksgiving menu and mumbled that preparations were late.

Olivia bounded into the kitchen and Meredith immediately replaced her scowl with a kind smile.

“It’s Thanksgiving!” Olivia cheered.

“That it is,” Meredith said. “You’re up early.”

“How can I sleep when Daddy’s about to marry Ava? There is still so many things to do. It’s a dream come true!”

To Meredith, it was more her worst nightmare repeating itself but she refrained from saying it.

“Why don’t you go ahead and ask Kira to press your dress for tonight, sweetie?” Meredith suggested, and Olivia nodded, leaving to busy herself with the task.

A knock on Aleksander’s office door made Ava’s cringe. Per his request, she had been hiding, avoiding Meredith. Not, in her opinion, the best attitude or that it would do any good but she agreed anyway.

“Come on in.”

To her relief, it was Lydia who opened the door. “May I talk with you for a moment?”

“Sure.” She rose and motioned to the veranda where they could sit comfortably and talk with privacy.

“I have been friends with Meredith for a long time and she was not so bad, you know?” Lydia didn’t start with any pleasantries and cut right to the chase. “Before Melissa died, she was just a…vapid and snobby American princess, but she was harmless.”

Ah, the girl in the photo. “Who is Melissa?”

“They think that not talking about it can make it go away.” Lydia huffed and leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs. “In short, Melissa was Meredith’s youngest child, ten years younger than Aleksander and the darling of the family. When she was in college, she fell head over heels for a guy. Within days, they were living together. Burt—that was his name—was everything Melissa wasn’t: outgoing, boisterous, and funny. Meredith didn’t approve of him because he was not from their social circles. To speak plainly, he was poor and his family was not important. But, hell, Ava, I didn’t approve of him either, but for a completely different reason. I felt there was something sinister in him…maybe that was what attracted Melissa. After a few months they broke up. He didn’t take it well and became obsessed. Well…” Lydia took a deep breath. “He slaughtered her.”

“Kristus!” Ava was shocked not only by the story, but also by Aleksander never mentioning he had a sister when she had asked about his family.

“Meredith…she broke down and, even after a long treatment, was never the same anymore.”

Ava nodded. “Understandable.”

“She is not a very agreeable person to be around.” Lydia sighed. “I’m telling you this because Alek is a great guy, who has been through a lot already and deserves all the happiness in the world. It may seem strange to you to be receiving a…blessing from the mother of Aleksander’s late wife, but I find it easier to be pragmatic about life.” Her shoulders lifted in an apologetic shrug. “I have been dealing with people all my life, Ava, and I believe you are exactly what he needs right now.”

“Lydia,” Ava leaned forward and put her hand over the older woman’s knees. “I want to assure you I will do my best to make them both happy.”

“I know.” Lydia patted Ava’s hand and gave her a small smile, before looking away. “There is one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Ava settled back on her chair, sensing she was about to hear about Rachel. “Yes?”

“Aleksander didn’t deal well with Rachel’s passing.” Lydia took in a shuddered breath. “Rachel didn’t leave Olivia’s side for a minute after she began the chemo. Not even if Aleksander—or I—was there to relieve her. She barely ate and took naps only when she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open. One day, I insisted—forced her to go home and—” She brushed her hand over her face as if the gesture could keep the memory away. “She was tired, confused. She crossed the street apparently without realizing the light was red. She was hit by a bus.”

“I’m so sorry, Lydia.”

Lydia nodded and her voice was barely a whisper, as she continued, “When the doctors told me she was showing no brain activity, I wanted it all turned off immediately, but Aleksander…he just couldn’t. For weeks he ran from Olivia’s room to Rachel’s, sat by her, watched her laying there, talking to an unresponsive body, making promises to an already gone soul. Only when Olivia finally improved enough to leave the hospital did he relent and finally let Rachel rest.” Lydia flatted her lips and closed her eyes for a brief moment, swallowing ache and tears, before she looked at Ava. “For Olivia’s sake.”

The thought was appalling to Ava.

“I thought it was going to kill him to sign the papers for the machines to be turned off but it didn’t. And that was because he had Olivia to worry about. To take care of. To focus on.” She heaved a sigh. “Even though he has you by his side now…I’m worried, very worried.”

She stared at Lydia. She knew about the older doctor’s prowess in the psychiatric field. She would not be telling her that if there wasn’t a serious chance of a break down. “So…if Olivia has a relapse and is hanging on with machines, he wouldn’t allow them to be turned off?”

Lydia frowned. “Not really, since it’s unlikely for Olivia to be brain dead but physically well. What I am saying is: I am worried about Alek’s state of mind.”

Kristus! Success in Ava’s profession was all about concentration. A narrowing of focus. Dulling the senses, ignoring emotion, weeding out all her human frailties—until all that remained was the sick body in front of her and her knowledge about curing.

But now the sick body and her knowledge about curing took on another dimension, a menacing dark hole threatening to swallow her.

She knew Olivia had a good chance to be free of cancer, but the chance she could end up as a vegetable was not small. Ava’s mind spun in circles, the full weight of what she had put in motion settling on her heart heavily.

And although Ava desperately wanted was to blurt out everything they were about to face to Lydia, Aleksander had asked her to keep the surgery a secret, and she could never betray him. “I will keep that in mind, Lydia.”

Ava had shouldered hefty burdens on her own, all alone, but the future suddenly didn’t seem so rosy, so light.

Now, not only was there the prospect of she and Aleksander losing Olivia, but if they did, she might lose Aleksander as well.