Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Rescued - Meredith Webber, Bella Bucannon - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

THEY DIED. WHY HADN’T he realised? The travelling. The solitary lifestyle. He hadn’t connected the facts. Instead he’d acted like a bastard, without consideration for her feelings. An echo of his father.

Somehow he had to make amends, persuade her to stay. The child’s acceptance of him depended on her conceding to his proposition. In every way. Alina the woman as much as the child-bearer. Oh, Louise, what have you started? Why didn’t you tell me?

He picked up both mugs, dropped hers into a bin, washed his, and waited.

* * *

Alina sat on the toilet seat lid, hugging herself, rocking rhythmically, trying to quell her shuddering breaths. The cloud in her mind began to clear, leaving behind a mixture of fear and shame. She’d blown it—been ambushed by a question she ought to have foreseen. Ethan James was a man who’d check the information he’d been given—investigate until he knew everything. Or believed he did. And instead of calmly answering, she’d panicked.

She cringed, dreading what his opinion of her would be now—a neurotic female with serious hang-ups who claimed to be pregnant with his niece or nephew. It was essential he be convinced of her emotional stability, so he’d trust her to take proper care of herself and the baby until its birth.

Dampening a cloth from the rail with cold water, she pressed it to her face, ashamed of her abrupt reaction. Her reflection in the mirror was pale and strained—not the composed image she’d hoped to project. For Louise and Leon. She recited her mantra, squared her shoulders, and returned to the main sitting area.

Ethan leant on the counter by the coffee machine, watching her with sympathetic eyes. Guilt also flickered in the cobalt blue, stirring her conscience.

She gave an awkward shrug. ‘You surprised me. I anticipated a doctor asking about my history, but I guess I’m not as prepared as I thought. Add my hormones acting crazy, and jet lag—’

‘My fault. I didn’t mean it to come out so brutally.’ He moved forward, gave her plenty of space. ‘My only excuse is I’m still trying to come to grips with it all. Forgive me?’

She empathised—had been there. Heck, she was still there. Shock upon shock robbed you of lucidity. In the last twenty-four hours, she’d delivered a bundle to him. Not having any option didn’t ease her remorse.

She managed a twisted smile. ‘Time heals is a furphy. Developing a façade to get through each day is the only way to survive.’ And hers threatened to crack with every look, every touch from this man. Her mouth dried; her throat constricted. ‘It’s not right. They deserved to have their baby. Life stinks.’

Fierce and heartfelt.

Ethan concurred that life wasn’t always fair, but refrained from admitting it. ‘Life’s what you make it. Are you up for talking a little longer? If not I’ll take you to your hotel and we can continue in the morning.’

‘I’ll stay.’ She ran her tongue over dry lips. ‘Could I have another tea, please?’

‘Thank you for agreeing. Same flavour?’

With a brave attempt at smiling, she curled into the corner of the settee. When he sat he left a bigger gap between them, avoiding accidental contact.

Space didn’t help. Yesterday he’d attributed his reaction to her as the combined effects of disbelief, weariness, and self-enforced celibacy due to his business commitments. Problems with the expansion of his hotel chain into Queensland—on top of his regular heavy workload—had left him little time for a personal life even prior to the accident.

Tonight the desire for physical contact had been—was still—much stronger. He’d resisted with effort, knowing it was essential to allay her doubts and resolve some of the essential matters. Every day counted in the agenda he’d formulated.

She drank thirstily, colour gradually returning to her cheeks. Unsure eyes met his and he thought he’d have given almost anything to appease her by bringing the evening to an end.

‘That was the reason you kept moving? No ties? No commitments?’

Relief washed over him when she merely nodded before placing her mug down carefully.

‘We need to discuss certain issues—the main one being protection for the child. It wasn’t random curiosity, Alina. I have a genuine motivation for everything I ask.’

Her jaw firmed, her shoulders hitched. Bracing for what? The sight of her teeth giving a quick tug to the side of her mouth gave him a moment of regret, determinedly squashed. He needed facts.

‘What did you imagine would happen when you requested a meeting?’

To his surprise she relaxed, as if she’d feared a different query.

‘Springing a newborn niece or nephew on you didn’t seem right, even though I don’t think you can get DNA proof till then. I figured you’d appreciate time to get used to the idea—time to decide if your family wanted to adopt the—’

‘If we wanted to adopt Louise’s child?’ In a second he was towering over her, six feet of instant fury directed solely at the woman recoiling from him.

A range of emotions flickered across her features. Resentment. Anger. Guilt?

She pushed herself upright, causing him to step back. ‘Yes—if. You expect me to believe your parents will welcome this? Even with DNA proof?’ She glared up at him, delightfully incensed, daring him to contradict her.

Stunned at her outburst, he felt his temper abate. His mother’s perception of social standing... His father’s snobbery... Their disapproval of his sister’s marriage... All probably the reason Louise’s miscarriages had been kept secret.

He spun round to the window, running agitated fingers into his hair. How much more angst was a man supposed to endure?

‘Options were limited because of their attitude.’

Her tone was gentle, conciliatory. He turned.

‘Louise knew they’d consider adopting a failure, although it was to be their last resort.’

‘I’m not sure they’d have accepted a surrogate grandchild either,’ he grated.

‘They weren’t going to find out.’

It had slipped out, and Alina couldn’t retract the declaration.

A predatory gleam flared in his eyes. He moved quickly, trapping her against the settee, his breath fanning her face. She stood her ground, holding his gaze, hoping he couldn’t sense her trepidation.

A long moment later he inclined his head. ‘I suggest we sit, so you can explain exactly how the three of you intended to hide it from us.’

She didn’t sit. She flopped, desperately trying to regroup. Extremely perceptive, he had a reputation for dealing strictly on the level. Though he might accept his parents’ rigid viewpoint had been the incentive for all their secrecy and deception, he certainly hoped the trio hadn’t broken any laws. That would definitely test his principles.

He also had a way of undermining her defences, honing in on sensitive secrets. Some were not for sharing.

She watched him settle, folding one leg onto the settee. His features indicated that he was cool, calm, and collected. His right fingers lightly drumming on his thigh proved otherwise.

Crunch time. Next week she’d probably be back in Spain, managing alone until October. She’d learned life’s lessons the hard way, already had a plan worked out. There was the trust account Leon had set up, plus an Australian bank account she’d never accessed.

Wriggling into the corner, she tucked her feet up and challenged him. ‘Then I can go to my hotel?’

‘Yes. Tell me the basics. We’ll discuss the rest later.’ Milder tone. Persuasive.

He laid his arm along the back of the settee. A normal gesture, yet she had a sudden urge to slide into its embrace, lay her head on his shoulder, and let him take care of everything. Crazy notion. Not for her. Ever.

‘They made a generous donation to a clinic that caters to low-income couples. The procedure was done under fictitious names, with Louise and me using the same one. We planned to travel around, avoid people we knew. As a patient, I’d use her name.’

She stopped, reluctant to continue as his posture changed. He’d jolted upright when she’d mentioned fictitious names, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. Now he sat still as stone, an incredulous stare in his dark blue eyes. Icy chills ran down her spine; cold sweat formed on her palms. He didn’t approve—couldn’t comprehend all they’d been through.

‘We didn’t hurt or cheat anyone. In fact the money we donated gave other couples a chance to realise their dream too.’

His lips compressed. ‘What about doctors and scans? The birth? What if something had gone wrong? How many people did you intend to lie to?’

Alina’s grip tightened till the ring she wore dug into her flesh. Damn fate and to heck with life. She’d finally found the courage to confront her dark solitude; to try and help someone else in despair. And now she’d been left with the fall-out on her own. Again. She curbed the tears threatening to fall. He’d probably dismiss them anyway.

‘As few as possible. There was no reason to suppose this pregnancy and birth wouldn’t be normal.’ Apart from the fact that this tiny person growing inside her belonged to someone else. ‘You can’t possibly understand. You weren’t there.’

He froze. She couldn’t even detect any movement from his breathing. His black eyebrows were drawn together, his cobalt eyes dark and fathomless. He was justifiably shaken. Right now she didn’t care. She wanted this night to end.

‘No, I wasn’t. They never gave me the chance to be.’

They were both silent for a moment, then he startled her by reaching out and taking her left hand in his. His thumb stroked over her gold ring.

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirty.’

‘I’ll turn thirty-six in December. You’re not involved with anyone?’

She shook her head warily.

‘No one else is aware of your surrogacy pact?’

A more emphatic shake.

His next words were spoken in a clear, resolute tone. ‘Then as far as everyone’s concerned, Alina, this child is ours.’

Her heart began to thump wildly. He was claiming the baby as his own. Ours. Our baby. She stared at their joined hands and remembered his earlier words. The best solution of all. More than she’d dared hope for. No need for adoption.

‘And it’s credible because you were in Spain at the right time.’ A whisper...barely audible.

Ethan had still been struggling to make sense of it all even as he’d made his declaration. His sister and his best friend had been prepared to lie, even commit fraud, to become parents. He’d have done everything possible to help. They hadn’t asked.

Instead, whatever their original intentions had been, he would now be the father of their child. His tenacious, practical persona, the one that had achieved corporate success, kicked in. He refocused on Alina. He’d give her no choice. She had to accept the optimum scenario he’d envisaged last night.

Her 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.