The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way
‘And don’t be afraid to show the woman you really are. I like what I’ve seen so far.’
Not trusting her voice, she gave a quick nod before turning away.
He stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. ‘My father’s invited us to dinner on Saturday. I’m so angry with my mother I’m inclined to say no.’
‘Delaying the inevitable? I think I’d rather face it now.’
‘The way you did with me? I won’t let them demean you, Alina.’ A softly spoken declaration that demanded compliance. A firm hold she didn’t want to break. Commanding blue eyes that enthralled.
‘You were receptive,’ she said. ‘They’re bound to think I’m trapping you. You’re not the type to lose control and forget protection.’
Ethan never had. Even in his testosterone-driven teens he’d always been disciplined. Now, being with Alina every night, inhaling her essence, having her within easy reach, he appreciated how overpowering desire could be.
Anger ground in his gut. At his parents, who judged everyone by high, rigid standards and dismissed any contrary opinions. At himself for allowing them to influence his life, his behaviour. At the fates who had taken his sister’s life when the best times were just beginning.
Yet those same fates had brought Alina and his future son or daughter to Sydney. To him.
Taking a short step forward, he manoeuvred her into his arms. In the simple act of holding her and stroking her hair he found solace as he reassured her.
‘That’s all the more reason for us to convince them of the undeniable magnetism between us. If we show them we’re happy they’ll have to accept it.’
‘Are you happy?’ A muffled plea into his shirt.
He tilted her chin to gaze into lovely despondent eyes and swore silently. Didn’t she realise how much her being here meant to him?
‘How can I not be happy? You’ve given me the most precious gift I’ll ever have. You are giving a part of Louise back to me. Her child. You had easier options, yet you came to me not knowing how I’d react. You did know how my parents would.’
She took a long, shuddering breath, drawing his eyes to her full pink mouth. His body vibrated in response. She had no concept of what she was doing to him. He wasn’t sure himself.
‘Can we go this week? I’d prefer less time to dwell on it.’
His mobile rang before he could answer her. He grimaced at the caller ID. ‘I agree. I’ve got to take this, so I’ll meet you in the pool.’
He walked to his room, trying to focus on building regulations instead of smoky violet eyes and full, inviting lips.
Alina walked away, didn’t look back. His words had woven a soothing path through her mind, into her heart. Diminishing her qualms.
You’ve given me the most precious gift.
So similar to the phrase she’d heard from Louise when those two blue lines had materialised on that vital stick. Validation that she’d made the right decision to contact him now rather than after the birth.
* * *
Seven minutes to six on a Thursday evening and his desk was clear. Ethan felt pumped at an achievement he determined would become more routine than not. He conceded that the new promotions, which would become official at midnight on Sunday, made it possible.
He stopped on the way home for handmade chocolates to celebrate. Trying to quell the rush of anticipation, he entered the apartment, silently chuckling at the sci-fi epic music coming from the speakers.
Alina was preparing dinner at the kitchen counter. His eyes drank in her brunette curls, her enticing curves—soon to be curvier. Alluring. Desirable. This attraction was unlike any he’d ever experienced. Because of the situation? Her condition? His unexpected paternity? None of them explained that initial gut-clench when the only knowledge he’d had of her was her name.
She continued working, oblivious to his presence. How near did he have to be before she sensed him?
She had. The moment he’d opened the front door. Trying to quell her quickening heartbeat and ignore the prickling at the back of her neck was a futile exercise. There was nothing to account for her sudden heat rush.
Darn hormones. Why pick this pregnancy to play up? The first time—she couldn’t prevent the comparisons surfacing—there’d been occasional morning sickness, a few cravings, and manageable backache in the last trimester. She’d been blissfully content, cherished, and pampered by...
She gripped the vegetable peeler till it stung, fought the tears threatening to spill.
His cologne seeped around her. Still no sound or greeting. Was he playing games, waiting for her to acknowledge him? She put down the peeler, pivoted.
Her lungs seized up. Her mouth dried. She sucked in her cheeks and swallowed, trying unsuccessfully to form moisture. Ethan stood there, gazing at her as if she were priceless, unique. When he walked round the island, smiling at her, she couldn’t have moved if someone had tossed a grenade.
‘You were so engrossed I didn’t want to disturb you.’ He cupped her chin, restarting her lungs in a short sharp gasp. He drew her to him as if their future was limitless and she leant into him, wanting to be closer. Wanting whatever he was offering.
He kissed her lightly, then deeper when her lips moved under his. When they parted of their own accord he accepted the tacit invitation. The tip of his tongue found hers. Heat flooded every cell. She tasted a hint of wine, coffee, tightened her hold on his neck, hungry for more.
Her stomach lurched. She wrenched free, clapping her hand over her mouth. Holding an arm across her belly, she bent double, trying not to throw up.
‘Alina, what’s wrong?’
The anxiety in his tone penetrated her brain. The support of his strong arms steadied her.
‘Alina?’
The nausea hit again. Breaking free, she stumbled to the bathroom, crumpled beside the toilet bowl and dry-retched repeatedly. Didn’t have time to worry about privacy.
WATER SPLASHED IN the basin and then Ethan was kneeling beside her, offering a damp cloth. She pressed it to her skin, letting the coolness soothe the heat from her humiliation. He’d kissed her and she’d practically thrown up on him.
Why? She’d eaten nothing, done nothing to trigger it. She shivered, couldn’t stop, couldn’t stem the shame churning in her belly.
‘Alina?’
She looked up into blue eyes dark with concern. For the child? A tiny pang of regret hit her heart.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan—so sorry. I’ve no idea what triggered that.’
He gently removed the cloth, tossed it into the sink, then cradled her to his chest.
‘Hey, I’ve got friends with children. Over the years I’ve heard plenty of stories about so-called morning sickness. Including the fact that it should be named any-time-anywhere-for-no-apparent-reason sickness. Feeling better?’
She touched the stubble on his chin, managed a rueful half-smile. ‘I think so.’
He helped her up, waited until she’d rinsed her mouth, then aided her walk back to the lounge. Sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
‘Do you want some chocolate to take away the taste? I brought a box home.’
‘Peppermint tea with plain biscuits will be more settling. I can get them.’
‘You stay put. You’re sure you’re all right?’
For his sake she