The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way
drawn face and drooping eyelids mirrored his own exhaustion. They’d both been bombarded with emotional stress since the accident. Maybe if he carried her into the bedroom they’d sleep peacefully, continue their conversation in the morning. Maybe if he cradled her in his arms they’d find comfort.
Bad idea. He swung his leg off the settee, stretched as he stood. Glanced at his watch.
‘It’s been gruelling for both of us.’ Like a manic rollercoaster. ‘And tomorrow won’t be any easier. This suite has three bedrooms. You can sleep here or I’ll escort you to your hotel.’
‘I’d prefer my hotel.’ She hesitated, bit her lip before resuming doggedly. ‘We weren’t being reckless. We’d have gone straight to the nearest medical facility at the slightest hint of any problem.’
Her eyes begged for understanding, and she held out her hands, palms up, in supplication. ‘I’m not lying. We’d never have risked the baby’s health. Never.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ He didn’t. They’d concocted a crazy scheme, with holes you could drive a truck through, and yet he found himself believing that with luck on their side they might have succeeded.
He phoned for the hire car. She put her shoes on and went to the bathroom.
A little later Alina stood quietly in the doorway, watching him replace the mugs. For seven years she’d befriended few men, always kept things casual. From the moment they’d met, Ethan James had stirred feelings she tried not to acknowledge. She prayed it was a fleeting thing, caused by her condition. Gone after the birth. Entrusting her shattered heart to anyone would be too great a risk.
So how come that stupid organ was beating faster at the sight of his muscles tensing as he stretched up to the shelf? Why was she gawking at his broad shoulders? Why was she remembering the feel of his hand on her spine?
He turned, as if sensing her presence, smiled reassuringly. She smiled tentatively back. He walked to the door, picking up a laptop bag from the dining table and his jacket on the way.
‘Driver’s waiting. We’ll discuss tomorrow in the car.’
They exited the elevator into an underground car park, where a flashy silver limousine waited. Ethan gave their destination to the chauffeur before joining her on the plush seat. She loved the texture of the soft leather, breathed in its potent aroma, enhanced by her escort’s earthy cologne. The brush of his thigh on hers as he twisted to buckle himself in caused her to shift towards the door.
Talk. Any subject. Anything to distract her thoughts from the vitality of the man by her side.
‘What happens after I’ve seen your doctor? Do I leave?’ she asked, striving for a casual tone.
The glance he gave her was enigmatic. ‘No.’ Removing the computer from the bag at his feet, he placed it on his lap and activated it.
Was he crazy? Her staying would bring embarrassment to his family, cause conflict with his parents. Better she go, returning later in the year. No matter what agreement they made, this baby would be born in Australia.
‘You stay with me. You signed a legal contract to carry and give birth to this child. The purpose of your scheme was to prevent that child from suffering any repercussions from its origin or circumstances. Nothing’s changed.’
Corporate-speak. Direct. Uncompromising.
He turned the laptop, enabling her to see the document displayed. An insane impulse to laugh shook her. It was an application for a marriage licence, with the groom’s details already entered on the left, her name and his address on the right.
She bit back a negative retort. Ethan James didn’t play games. He dealt with every situation shrewdly, sweeping aside opposition with logic and unwavering perseverance. And that was what she was to him—a situation, to be processed with tact and practicality.
He set the laptop aside, turned towards her. She flinched as his hand splayed across her abdomen, sending a warm glow sliding from cell to cell. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his touch.
His voice was honey-smooth, adamant.
‘Alina, the baby you carry is my family. I can’t—I won’t—permit this child to be born illegitimate.’
She sympathised, but he had no idea what he was demanding from her. The warmth faded, replaced by a cold chill. Another hand, so like his, had lain there, eagerly anticipating the movement of an unborn baby. Caring. Sharing. Taken from her with no warning.
Somewhere out in the real world a driver beeped his horn. She sensed Ethan studying her, could imagine his brain churning with arguments to reinforce his demand. For him her full compliance was essential. He’d accept nothing less.
His words might come from an innate sense of duty, but the passion in his voice proclaimed a deep brotherly love. She’d been a willing party to the covert plan to protect the baby’s name. It was as essential now as it had been then. She consigned her memories to the deep pit where they belonged.
‘This explains your interest in my papers. How long is it supposed to last?’ It came out wrong. She hadn’t meant to sound so cold, so detached. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the pained look in his eyes.
‘We’ve got seven months to sort out the future. No one will be surprised if our sudden marriage doesn’t survive long-term.’ His hand left her stomach and cupped her chin. ‘I won’t force you to stay, and I swear you won’t lose from this arrangement.’
He was right—because she’d already lost everything worthwhile. She’d bought a new gold ring because she hadn’t been able to bear the sight or the feel of the original. Wearing it discouraged male attention. He offered a marriage of convenience. No intimacy. No permanency. An expedient arrangement, lasting long enough to convince everyone he was the father.
She couldn’t tell him—couldn’t tell anyone about the darkness. Remembering the past tore her apart. Speaking of it out loud was unthinkable. His way made sense. If they married, his paternity would be undisputed. He’d give this baby the love she was incapable of feeling.
‘You give me your word that I can leave when I decide?’
Being nomadic, with no involvements, was the only way to prevent her life from being devastated again. Last year she’d occasionally been drawn into small-town activities. And she’d connected with Louise and offered her help, completely breaking her basic rules. Look where that had landed her.
‘Yes.’ It was blunt. His body was rigid, his features unreadable.
‘All right. I’ll marry you. When will it be?’ So impersonal, so soulless. Why did that worry her?
‘Tomorrow morning we’ll collect the documents we need from your solicitor for a one o’clock meeting with the celebrant. She’ll check the application, lodge it immediately, and the wedding will be a month later.’
He packed the computer into its bag.
As soon as legally permitted. Eleven years ago it had seemed to her like an eternity to wait.
ETHAN CONTINUED TALKING as he unbuckled his seatbelt. ‘I’ll be here at eight-thirty in the morning.’
With a start she realised they’d reached her hotel.
‘I’ll be in the lobby.’
How did you say goodnight to the stranger you’d promised to marry? The day after you’d met? A man you’d never even kissed.
That last thought rattled her, and she tripped alighting from the vehicle. Ethan steadied her with an arm around her waist. She trembled from his touch—or her own agitation. She wasn’t sure which.
‘I’ll see you to your room.’
He guided her through the foyer towards the elevators.