Читать книгу The Australian Affairs Collection - Margaret Way - Страница 75

CHAPTER SIX

THEIR NEXT STOP, within walking distance, was his communications supplier. Somehow the end result was a new mobile for Alina with her account bundled with his. Ethan James had a charming way of overruling objections, leaving you feeling as if you’d done him a favour.

Like the way he’d cajoled her into an exclusive perfumery store after claiming that he’d noticed her spray bottle was nearly empty. When had that happened? Well aware that the one she wore, a Christmas gift, was too strong for her; she was delighted with the new delicate spring fragrance. She’d been aware of the surreptitious looks he’d exchanged with the assistant. What else was he planning?

The arrangements, phone calls, et cetera had all taken time and effort, yet he made it seem simple. To him it was. Decisions were made. Actions followed. Tangible proof of the attributes that had ensured his phenomenal success. Skill and diplomacy would ensure the optimum outcome: a healthy son or daughter.

On their way back to the apartment the car pulled in to the kerb and Ethan unclicked his seatbelt. ‘Won’t be long.’

He hopped out and the driver moved off. One lap of the block found him waiting to be picked up, now carrying two plastic bags containing rectangular objects with a delicious exotic aroma.

He laughed at her puzzled stare. ‘Thai takeaway. Best in town.’

‘But...’ Of course—the call he’d made while the salesgirl had been demonstrating functions on her new phone.

‘Nothing hot or spicy. And what we don’t finish tonight we’ll have tomorrow. I’ve had many a breakfast of reheated Asian food.’

So had she—more from the need to stretch a budget than for pleasure. She laughed as her stomach rumbled. ‘I’m hungrier than I thought. Thank you for remembering about the spicy.’

‘I remember everything you’ve told me, Alina.’

His eyes caught hers, held her spellbound. She fought to break the hold, had to stay detached. Letting him in was a risk with too high a cost.

* * *

She was happy when he opted to eat in the lounge, claiming casual dining made takeaway taste better. Watching television would provide a break from personal questions and conversation.

At his request she carried two glasses and a carafe of iced water into the lounge, while he brought china, cutlery and the food.

‘Tonight it’s your choice—apart from reality shows,’ he remarked, scooping special fried rice onto two plates.

‘I haven’t watched much at all these last few years. Hey, not too much on mine.’ She stilled his hand, preventing him from overloading the second plate. ‘The news is fine by me.’

During the ad breaks they discussed the events of the day—small talk which gave her invaluable insight into the man she’d committed her immediate future to. He wasn’t as complimentary about the present government as she’d expected, and spoke sympathetically about lower income earners.

The latter didn’t surprise her; she’d experienced his attitude to shop assistants and his own hotel staff. He did surprise her when he patiently explained the intricacies of a technology breakthrough. So she chose a documentary next, figuring it would interest him, knowing she’d like it too. His avid interest in the excavation of an ancient English church which had revealed a former king’s remains proved her right.

Ethan’s attention strayed during the advertising breaks. Alina would have plenty of time to watch anything she liked in the coming months. It suddenly occurred to him that she’d need something to occupy the hours while he was working. Even if she did sign up for a course or two.

How many people in Sydney had she kept in touch with? Was there anyone she’d confided in? He couldn’t imagine how he’d have got through his teens, resisting his parents’ expectations, without Leon to confide in. Even Louise, five years younger and flighty as a cuckoo fledgling, had listened and supported him.

Alina had stayed away from Australia. Did that mean there were no close friends here? It was obvious that she carried a deep-seated torment inside. Damn, he knew so little about her, but he couldn’t bring himself to push too much. He was supposed to be good with people. If he earned her trust maybe she’d confide in him. When he knew the details he was convinced he’d be able to find a way to ease her pain.

Alina stretched as the final credits rolled, then carried their plates to the dishwasher. Ethan followed with the glassware and caught her yawning.

‘Ready for an early night? It’s been a full-on day for you.’ Sympathy showed in his eyes, warmth in his tender expression.

A restful soak in the bath with an intrigue novel appealed more than bed. Did that seem rude? As if she wanted to get away from him?

As if sensing her confusion, he gently took her in his arms, hugged her and let her go.

‘Goodnight, Alina. Thank you for being so cooperative. I know it wasn’t easy. Sleep well.’

‘I survived. Goodnight.’ She walked away.

‘Alina?’

She turned at the doorway.

‘I swear I’ll take care of you and our child. Believe me?’

She looked into sincere blue eyes and her doubts subsided. ‘Yes, I do.’

This time he didn’t stop her, and went back to the lounge. Trying to read reports was a futile exercise. A few strides along the hall was a beautiful woman who stirred him as no one ever had. A woman whose soul-destroying sorrow influenced every decision she made.

Today she’d begun to react naturally—the way he needed her to if they were to convince everyone they’d been lovers. Their supposed affair might have been short, but their mutual attraction had to be evident. On his part it was becoming less of a pretence every time she was near. And from her tentative responses he suspected her buried feelings were beginning to emerge.

* * *

Ten past nine. Past morning rush hour. Alina leant on the island, checking her notepad, and glanced down at her well-worn jeans. Added two items to her list. She drank her ice-cold juice, scrunched her nose. Pushed the credit card Ethan had given her in a circle on the granite. Having it didn’t mean using it.

He’d knocked on her door early this morning to tell her he was going to his office. Drowsy, needing to use the bathroom, she’d barely acknowledged his remarks. When he’d leaned in to brush her hair from her eyes, his unique smell and the touch of his fingertips had blown her lethargy away, leaving her wide-awake, tingling.

She dropped the pen. This was ridiculous. What could be simpler than writing a list of clothes and accessories to be worn by the wife of a hotshot billionaire? Or was he even richer? Any woman he dated would have no problem filling the page. But she was a nomad, with a meagre pile of cheap, easy-care clothing. Her serviceable underwear would never grace a magazine page or stir a man’s libido.

Hey, what was she thinking?

Focus. You only have to buy enough to be presentable for a few weeks.

As she put on weight she’d have to shop again. More expense.

For a second her mind flashed to the investment account. Another buried secret.

* * *

Sometime after twelve she sank wearily into a window seat of a busy café. Two bags containing the pathetic results of her attempted retail therapy took the chair beside her. This was hopeless. She’d chickened out every time she’d tried to enter any of the high-fashion boutiques she’d found. Embarrassing Ethan in clothes from the stores she normally frequented wasn’t an option. At this rate she’d be in track pants and baggy jumpers right through autumn.

She needed help...didn’t know who to ask. She was used to working; now she had all day with nothing to do. Or did she? She’d meant her reference to taking courses as a joke, but now she deemed them a plausible time-filler.

As the waitress walked past, carrying two plates of fish and chips, another idea popped into her head. Taking out her notepad, she began a new list, pushing it aside when her order arrived.

Indulging in a gooey cream-filled pastry didn’t solve her wardrobe problem but it tasted good. Drinking Viennese hot chocolate while writing the final items lifted her spirits. Surely he’d give her plenty of notice before expecting her to meet his friends or accompany him to functions?

* * *

Ethan sniffed appreciatively as he entered the apartment—later than he’d intended due to an impromptu meeting with his second-in-command. The sooner he implemented the new changes in his workload, the better.

It was a surprise to find the table set for two, even though he’d called, asking her to order dinner from the hotel. There was a bowl of fresh garden salad in the centre, and a bottle of Shiraz waiting to be opened. His home was warm and welcoming—a pleasurable new experience. He shed the trials of his day and moved forward.

‘Mmm, smells good. Mushroom sauce, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘Hi.’ Alina came around the island, carrying water and glasses. ‘Dinner will be ready by the time you wash up.’

Placing his laptop on the end of the table, he moved nearer, breathed in flowers and sunshine—perfect for her, enthralling for him. If this were real...

It wasn’t.

This morning she’d been dreamy-eyed, and he’d come close to kissing her. He hadn’t thought, had merely acted, something he’d need to curb if they were to build a trusting relationship.

‘Give me five minutes.’

Alina arranged steak with foil-wrapped baked potatoes on warmed plates, placed hot crusty rolls in a serviette-lined basket. Smiled with satisfaction. Everything looked appetising, hopefully tasted as good. If she could convince him to let her cook and clean she’d feel so much better about their arrangement. Support for the child was one thing—her being totally dependent on him another.

No way was she going to compete with his qualified chefs. She’d serve recipes she felt capable of, even if they weren’t gourmet standard. The cookbook she’d bought was for inspiration.

Ethan had already poured his glass of wine when she set down his plate, along with the gravy boat. When she returned with her meal he was waiting by her chair, studying his food across the table. She held her breath while he took his seat.

The sparkle in his eyes when they met hers was unnerving. ‘This didn’t come from my hotel kitchen, did it?’

‘No.’ She broke eye contact, her heart sinking. Took a sip of water. If the difference was so obvious she’d already lost.

‘Hmm...’ He poured gravy, put sour cream on his potato and began to eat.

Her breath caught behind the lump in her throat. Her whole body felt primed for his reaction. She so wanted his approval.

‘It’s good.’ His smile caused her lungs to deflate, the lump to dissolve.

‘Not what you’re used to?’

‘Better.’

She bristled. She didn’t need or want pseudo-compliments. ‘You don’t have to butter me up. I know there’s no comparison.’

‘I promise I will always tell you the truth, Alina. Since the accident I’ve ordered meals. They came. I ate often while still working, usually too focused on facts and figures to taste or enjoy it. At home I lived in a void. My way of blocking out the grief, I guess.’

That she understood. ‘And I made it worse with my bombshell.’

‘No—no way.’ He dropped his knife, reached across and took her hand. ‘It was as if nothing had real purpose. I avoided thinking about Louise and Leon because then I’d have to accept they were never coming back. I hated knowing I should have been there for them much more than I was.’

She laid her free hand on top of his, subconsciously acknowledging its male texture.

‘You felt guilty? Oh, Ethan, there was never, ever, in any conversation I had with them, the slightest hint that you had been anything but a loving and supportive brother and friend. One who’d be there for them in a heartbeat if they needed you. I don’t know why they kept their problem a secret. Maybe because shielding those you love from worry goes both ways.’

‘Maybe. I keep wondering if there was anything else I could have done for them. All I know is that you’ve given my life meaning again. I wake in the morning knowing my sister and best friend aren’t completely lost to me. I feel—’

He broke off, slowly withdrew his hand, as if unsure of revealing too much emotion.

‘Best we eat while it’s hot. What other culinary delights do you have planned?’ He helped himself to a serving of salad.

‘You mean it? You’ll really need more than one meal to make a sound judgement.’

‘Bring them on.’

His smile as he raised his drink ignited trails of heat along her veins, threatening the solid barriers she’d sworn to maintain.

‘Here’s to many more home-cooked dinners together.’

They clinked glasses. Alina let her water slide, cool and refreshing, down her throat.

‘It’s on the understanding that you tell me if it’s not good or not to your taste. If I take over the housework as well it’ll fill my days. I’m rethinking the courses idea.’

‘I’m locked into a cleaning contract, so that’s a different proposition. Anyway, in a few months you might be grateful for the help.’

And with the purchase he’d arranged today she might also reconsider.

She pondered his statement as she cut into her steak. ‘You may be right. It’s not easy work, but it pays the bills. Losing their hours here may cause hardship for someone.’

‘You discuss what you’d like done with whoever comes. I’ll notify the company that you have the authority.’

‘Thank you.’

So she’d also done cleaning during her nomadic life, had not been too proud to accept domestic employment. Showed consideration for other manual workers. Every conversation gave Ethan more insight into her—thankfully without her realising how much she revealed.

‘Are you a sports fan?’ she asked. ‘I know Leon and Louise were Sydney Swans supporters and watched the games on the internet. You don’t appear to have much free time.’

‘We never missed a home game when they were here. I’m still a fully paid-up member of the club, and get to go occasionally. It wasn’t the same without them, and the Starburst Group has been growing, demanding more time. I often wind down at night watching whatever sport’s being televised. Clears the mind.’

He asked which countries she’d been to as they ate fruit and ice cream for dessert. She revealed that she’d become fluent in Spanish, Italian and French, got by in other languages, and considered it no big deal. His Spanish was basic, so to him it was an enviable achievement.

He made hot drinks while she stacked the dishwasher.

Alina struggled to keep awake during the short late newscast. Had to stop herself from falling against his shoulder and nodding off.

‘Do you mind if I go to bed? I’m not usually so tired... It has to be the change of environment or the pregnancy, so hopefully it won’t last long.’

‘We’ll check if you need extra vitamins on Monday. You go and rest.’

‘Thank you.’

Admitting her failure at clothes shopping when he’d been so complimentary about her meal seemed a backward move. She’d try again tomorrow.

She had no idea that her disappointment showed in her face, but Ethan noticed, and couldn’t resist drawing her into his arms for comfort.

‘Dinner was delicious, Alina. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I promise we’ll work out any problems that arise. Tell me if anything bothers you and I’ll try to put it right.’

Her eyes were bright as she accepted his vow, and without conscious effort he bent his head to kiss her, moving his lips softly over her mouth. He felt a slight movement in her lips, heard a muted sound from her throat. Reluctantly raising his head, he encountered bemusement tinged with sadness.

He relaxed his hold, stepped back and tried to keep his voice stable. ‘Sleep well, Alina. I should be home earlier tomorrow.’

Watching her go, he cursed himself for his lack of restraint. Tonight they’d really begun to connect, and he feared she might rebuild her barriers overnight. He cursed his parents for the hang-ups that governed his thinking, tainted his ability to feel deep emotion with others apart from Louise and Leon.

His short, raw, ironic laugh was spontaneous. Those two had had no qualms about showing their love—privately or in public. Eye contact, touching, kissing—all had been as natural to them as breathing. He’d never, ever seen either of his parents show any tenderness for each other, never seen a sympathetic gesture like the one Alina had given him tonight.

Not wanting to dwell on why kissing Alina made him feel less alone, he reasoned doing it when they could be seen would substantiate their story of a short and overwhelming passion. But it had to be believable—from both of them. No holding back, no tension. He was a grown man, well able to curb any sexual urges.

* * *

Today had been better. Alina placed her special purchases on the coffee table before carrying the other bags into her bedroom. She’d still avoided high-fashion boutiques and exclusive salons, but with her more positive attitude she’d had some success.

In a big department store she’d found two summer dresses and a lightweight jacket to go with either of them on cooler days. The shoes and bag she’d bought also went with both. She had limited her new underwear purchases, knowing she’d soon outgrow them.

After showering and changing she settled in the lounge to be productive. She had a cup of tea, a block of nut chocolate and a home renovation show on the television. There was plenty of time before Ethan was due home.

His consideration might be because of the baby she carried, his attention and kisses might be to make their relationship more believable, but she had to admit she found them nice. Nothing more. She hadn’t been cared for since she’d fled from Australia, too cowardly to face anyone or anything that raised painful memories.

Mentally planning tonight’s dinner, she opened her present to herself...