Читать книгу The Australian Affairs Collection - Margaret Way - Страница 74

CHAPTER FIVE

OPULENT WAS THE word that came to mind as Alina stood in her own lavish en suite. This is my home until the end of the year.

She ran her fingertips across the marble surfaces—pure, cool luxury—but felt wary of touching the shiny chrome taps in case she left marks.

Bright stunned eyes stared at her from the pristine mirror. Walls the palest of pale mint-green complemented darker green mottled floor tiles, the crystal-clear shower. Matching it all were the softest, fluffiest towels she’d ever snuggled her face into.

She washed her hands, massaged moisturiser into her skin, breathing in its mild perfume.

She loved the beautifully appointed bedroom too. Also with a green theme, nothing bright or glaring, and as tranquil as a country spring morning—including a painting of a clear stream flowing between banks of willow trees. It was her own calming space, where she might be able to achieve meditation.

Sitting cross-legged on the luxurious cream carpet, she rested her elbows on her knees. Shut her eyes. Black terror. They flew open. She concentrated on the rural scene. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count slowly. Count the flowers in the grass. Count the trees or rocks. Block out everything else. Her inner fears receded—a little.

She stretched, unravelling her legs to lie flat, gazing up at the downlights strategically recessed in the ceiling. By tucking her chin in tight she could see her toes. For how much longer? She rolled over to do twenty push-ups. Did the building have a gym? If she didn’t work she’d need to start exercising more.

She brushed her hair and went to join Ethan in the spacious open living area. Too tidy. Too clean. To her, not lived-in. No magazines or books scattered around. No bowls of fruit or nuts. The only personal touches were two framed photos on one shelf of a too organised bookcase.

His dark hair showed over the top of the long red couch, his low, rich voice lured her forward. As if sensing her, he turned, spoke into the mobile held to his ear. ‘Hang on a minute.’ He covered the mouthpiece, studied her with reflective cobalt eyes. ‘Okay?’

Her reward, when she nodded, was a full-blown lethal Ethan James smile that blew her composure sky-high. ‘Give me ten minutes. If you’re thirsty, I’ll have coffee.’

The kitchen area was TV-cooking-show-perfection: black granite benchtops–—including an island—with stainless steel appliances. It enforced her earlier assessment. His apartment contained top-of-the-range exclusives with a wood and leather theme. Had he given carte blanche to the same interior designer who’d decorated the hotel?

She hadn’t cooked in a kitchen with an island since—since she’d sold the three-bedroom house, mortgaged to the hilt, that she still couldn’t bear to see ever again. Not since hired contractors had packed up the contents and put them into storage arranged by her solicitor.

She clamped her teeth together and focused on the coffee machine—top-brand, naturally.

‘Bronze pod for me. Biscuits in island cupboard. Top shelf.’ His voice floated through the room, accompanied by soft clicks as he dialled another number.

Everything she needed, including a decorative wooden box with the word ‘TEA’ inlaid on the lid, sat on the bench. She activated the machine for his coffee, then opened the box. A delighted ‘Wow...’ whispered from her lips. Her blind lucky dip into one of the sixteen compartments of herbal tea—some quite exotic—produced lemon and ginger.

Ethan waited while his project manager verified figures, his eyes tracking Alina as she made two trips, carrying mugs and a plate of biscuits into the lounge. There was nothing hurried in her movements—hadn’t been from the moment they met. Except when he’d challenged her about her husband and her child.

His eyes did a slow full-body scan, from the short wavy hair framing her pretty face down to the sleek white blouse, over her still flat abdomen, over slender shapely hips, ending at dainty bare feet. His own body enjoyed every second of the journey.

Quiet and unassuming, she’d have been overshadowed by the vibrant Spanish women he’d chatted up on his visits. Or would she? She disturbed him in a sensual way, new and puzzling, and definitely unwanted in their current circumstances.

‘Ethan? You still there?’

The voice in his ear jolted him out of his daydream. Reality ruled.

He gave due praise to his colleague for an urgent problem solved and ended the call. Dropping his mobile by the files on the table, he took an appreciative drink of the strong adrenaline-reviving coffee.

‘Thanks for this.’ The object of his distracting thoughts was now curled up in one of the lounge chairs with a notebook and pen, completely oblivious to the effect she had on him.

‘What’s the title of the latest?’

Alina frowned.

He indicated her notebook. ‘List?’

‘Ah... Personal items. Clothes. What I have won’t do for living your lifestyle.’

Her voice held an audible hint of resignation that sparked a twinge of sympathy. He understood her reluctance, but couldn’t change his stance. He was taking the only course of action he’d be able to live with, irrespective of personal preferences or consequences. Those must be considered collateral damage.

‘I’ve ordered a credit card for you.’ He held up his hand to stop her interjecting. ‘No argument. Having you here is my decision, so I’ll cover any costs you incur because you’re living with me.’

‘I have money.’

Enticingly stubborn, eyes fiercely defiant, mouth so tantalisingly kissable...

He’d eventually win—just not easily. Every step was a walk in a minefield and they’d hardly entered the paddock. Knowing women as he did, he figured once she began to shop for her growing figure and new social commitments she’d realise he was right.

‘Compromise? Accept the card. Use it at your own discretion.’

Her gaze shifted over his shoulder to the photos on the bookshelf. Leon and Louise on their wedding day. With him at a social event. Her eyes softened. She played it down but she’d cared for them too.

He watched neat white teeth bite into a chocolate-covered biscuit, inexplicably imagined them nibbling on his neck. Selecting a plain shortbread, he stretched his legs and crossed his ankles. Wondered what it was about her he found so fascinating.

‘Compromise it is. I have final say,’ she stated with determination, causing him to chuckle out loud. ‘Is there a gym in the building? Or nearby. Until I find a job I’ll—’

She stopped as if stunned when his body jerked forward. Coffee dregs splashed onto the table. His eyes narrowed.

A job? She wanted to work? Hell! He stood, drew in a ragged breath and quelled his exasperation.

‘Wait.’

He strode to the kitchen, brought back a cloth and mopped up the mess. She watched him warily. How could he explain his world to a woman who’d depended only on herself for so long?

Sitting by her side, he took her hand in his, felt her resistance. Held on. ‘In the social circles I grew up in few women worked. There was always a hint of condescension when my parents spoke of those who did—even those with a profession. My contemporaries are a mixture, mostly by choice. I make no judgement.’

He cupped and tilted her jaw until their eyes met.

‘We are different. You’ve come to me two months pregnant, with limited work skills. Uh-uh.’ He quickly placed his thumb over her lips as she stiffened. ‘That was not an insult, merely a statement of fact. I admire the diverse ways you’ve supported yourself, but I’d like you to relax, indulge yourself while you are with me. Accept a little pampering. Let me take care of you both. Please.’

‘I’m not sure I know how.’

Her wistful eyes confirmed her words. He waited, liking the way the violet darkened and her brow furrowed as she contemplated the idea.

‘Does taking courses constitute work?’

Spontaneous laughter rose in his throat. She was adorable. He hugged her close, pressing his lips to her hair. Wanting to press them to hers.

Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. ‘Come with me.’

She hesitated for a second, then accepted his offer. He led her through the kitchen into a short corridor, flicking a hand at two doors on the right.

‘Storage and spare.’ He opened the door on the left. ‘But this is what clinched the deal for me.’

He watched her expression and wasn’t disappointed. Her amazement duplicated his when he’d first walked into the not yet finished lap pool/gym area. One glance, one split second, and he’d contracted to buy.

She gawked at the neat array of exercise machines and banks of weights, at the long narrow strip of water. Her lips parted, but he quickly averted any speech with fingers over her mouth.

‘Don’t...’

Her eyebrows lifted as he spoke.

‘Don’t you dare say it.’

Her chin lifted defiantly. ‘You have no idea what I was thinking,’ she claimed into his skin.

He huffed. ‘A comparison between our worlds and I refuse to listen to any more.’

She studied the equipment for a moment, then him, and damned if he could define the expression in her eyes. Though he sure as hell knew he wanted to change it.

‘Our choices define us, Alina. This is one of my best. My sanctuary from long hours and constant electronic hassle.’ He moved behind her, put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Now it’s yours too. I’ll set up lighter weights on any of the machines you want to use. Do you have bathers with you?’

Bathers? Alina’s eyebrows scrunched. She’d packed for one or two meetings with a workaholic businessman. The rest of her time would have been spent sightseeing. Depending on the sales, maybe she’d have bought a few bargains. At the last minute she’d thrown in her one evening dress.

She twisted her head to tell him she’d add them to her shopping list. Froze. Her movement had brought her lips close to his. Kissing close. Her legs became jelly. Her mouth as dry as autumn leaves. Her heartbeat a jungle drum message.

His earthy cologne, enhanced by the scent of musky male, encircled her. The hazel rims of his dilated pupils were clearly discernible. Hypnotic eyes drew her in. Heat from his body seared her back, even though their only contact was through his hands. Arousing warmth lured and yet frightened. Distantly familiar. New and alarming.

It was illogical to feel chilled and cheated when he abruptly let her go. Put distance between them.

‘Use this area any time you like, though I’d prefer to be here while you do. If the water’s too cold I’ll up the temperature. Towels are in the cupboard by the door.’

General information, spoken matter-of-factly. He obviously wasn’t bothered at all.

Illogical to feel disappointed that his main concern would be the baby’s wellbeing. She vowed to make good use of the gym and pool whether he was there or not.

Ethan walked towards the door, berating himself for the rush of desire he’d felt when she’d turned to him. He had to find a way to block this impractical attraction. He chose his women carefully. No homebodies, no clingers. No romantics. Intelligent, beautiful; sometimes both. He shared pleasant evenings and satisfying nights with them. Nothing more.

Alina had no idea how she affected him. She’d probably fly back to Spain tomorrow if she knew what he’d been thinking. How he’d almost kissed her. How much he still wanted to.

Frustrating days, weeks, months loomed ahead. Enforced celibacy with Alina within reach. Limited touching. Yet making their story believable required getting personal, learning each other’s personalities and habits. Fast. They had to present a united picture to everyone: a couple mutually attracted enough to have had an ardent fling. It wasn’t happening at the moment.

He pivoted round, catching her elbows as she cannoned into him. ‘You know something about me, courtesy of my sister. I’m still groping in the dark where you’re concerned. So it’s imperative you talk to me, lighten up when we’re together.’

He slid one arm around her waist; saw apprehension cloud her eyes.

‘We’ll let people assume we were lovers...they’ll believe I’m the father.’ He skimmed his fingertips lightly across her cheek, murmured softly as he lowered his head. ‘A man and a woman who’ve made a baby should at least act as if they’ve kissed.’

He covered her mouth with his, giving her no chance to thwart him. And his barely restrained libido ran riot. His arousal was swift, unstoppable. Tangling his fingers in her silken curls, he anchored her head while desperately fighting the urge to deepen the kiss.

Willing her lowered eyelids to open, he moved his lips over hers. Pressed a little harder. Her soft lips tasted sweet. Didn’t respond.

Nice one, James. Great way to gain her cooperation and trust.

Did he imagine the light tremor under his hands? The tiniest motion of her lips? He eased away. Her eyelids fluttered, opened. His breakneck pulse cranked up another notch at the bemusement in her incredible violet eyes. Lord, he ached to have her even closer, moulded to his hardened form.

Worst idea ever.

He shifted, let his hand slide over her shoulder, down her arm. ‘We’ll work on it.’

She eyed him with suspicion as she pulled away. ‘Yeah, like you need the practice.’

Her offhand comment might have succeeded, if not for its delightful breathless timbre. Deny it all she liked, she’d been affected by his kiss. He rubbed his nape, wishing he could dive into the clear cool water behind him. A few laps fully clothed might diminish his ardour and help regain his sanity. Instead he had another trip in an enclosed car with her by his side. With that too-strong, not-for-her perfume assailing his senses.

With supreme effort he brought the conversation back to household routine. ‘The pool is cleaned regularly. The apartment is serviced Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. They process any dry cleaning I leave on the kitchen island.’

She looked dazed for a second, then welcomed his change of topic. ‘You have security. How do I enter and leave?’

‘I’ve ordered another key card. You can have my spare.’ He checked his watch. ‘Time to go. Can you be ready in ten minutes?’

* * *

Alina wasn’t surprised when they were escorted to an exclusive room on the fourth floor above a renowned jewellery store. Entrance to the secure area was gained by virtue of a buzzer and intercom system.

Ethan moved one of the four seats closer to hers, giving the impression of an attentive fiancé. She berated herself for tensing. How could they fool anyone into believing they were a couple?

An elegant, bespectacled man entered, offering congratulations as he placed two ring trays in front of them, another at the end of the cloth-covered table. Alina stared, stunned. Her body involuntarily tried to put distance between her and the brilliant array. The strong arm around her shoulders tightened as if Ethan sensed her agitation.

Dazzling gems in a myriad of colours and settings sparkled and gleamed. Too flashy for her...too many to choose from. There was no comparison to the small diamond in a heart setting that she’d chosen and been kissed over so long ago.

Don’t think. Don’t remember. This has nothing to do with reality and emotion.

Quiet words were spoken. The jeweller left with the two trays. He returned with a less ostentatious selection. She still couldn’t choose, couldn’t bring herself to touch.

Ethan caressed her cheek with his knuckles. ‘Too much choice, sweetheart? May I?’

Noting his endearment, knowing it was for the benefit of their attendant, she managed a fleeting smile and leant back. She didn’t dare speak in case the pain showed in her voice.

Without hesitation he selected an oval amethyst surrounded by tiny diamonds set in gold. Elegant, not showy. Her finger trembled as he guided it on, holding it firmly to stop it sliding off.

Raising her hand, he pressed his lips to her fingers. ‘Perfect. Beautiful. You.’ He kissed her gently.

She knew this was purely for show, knew she had a part to play. So she did what she’d struggled against by the pool. She returned his kiss.

Her heartbeat accelerated. Her body quivered. His hold tightened, his lips firmed. Her fingers crept up his neck, teasing the ends of his hair. She felt giddy, breathless. Cherished.

Until her stomach knotted and fear replaced the floating sensation. Heat flooded her cheeks; she broke away and bent her head to his chest.

Ethan framed her face with his hands, forced her to meet his gaze. Her warm blush was gratifying. Coupled with the soft glow in her violet eyes, it gave an idyllic image of a newly engaged woman.

His own feelings were elusive, and he had no inclination to analyse them here. They were new, overwhelming—might be caused by any one of the upheavals in his life.

He placed the ring to one side, before swapping the tray for the one at the end of the table. ‘Do you prefer a plain or patterned wedding band?’

He’d bet odds that the cross-cut patterned ring she chose was very different from the one she’d worn years ago—not the plain one she’d removed since yesterday. He selected a matching, broader one, then spoke to the jeweller.

‘Mine fits. Alina’s need to be resized.’