Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Rescued - Meredith Webber, Bella Bucannon - Страница 17

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CHAPTER NINE

‘NO. I HAD one Labrador who didn’t want to go back to his owner, but I didn’t blame him. The woman’s perfume was so overpowering it clogged my throat.’

She blushed and bent her head. So delightfully embarrassed he wanted to jump off and comfort her.

‘Hey, yours just didn’t suit you. On another woman it’d be different.’

‘Someone more flamboyant? More “out there”? It was a Christmas gift from a temporary boss, probably recycled. The box had been opened.’

‘Now you have the perfect fragrance for you—delicate, reminding me of sunshine and flowers. Ethereal...’ He chuckled. ‘Maybe not the last one. Though sometimes you do drift off into another world.’

Alina was grateful for the distinct ping announcing the end of her programme. She stepped off as the machine slowed down. Moved over to the weights.

For the next thirty minutes they rarely spoke, each concentrating on their own exercises. She’d have been completely relaxed if she’d been able to block out the male effortlessly lifting weights alongside her, built well enough to play A-league football.

He smiled whenever their eyes met in the huge wall mirror, disconcerting her. His T-shirt moulded to his sculpted chest and muscular upper arms. Her breath hitched every time his biceps firmed as he curled or lifted weights. She felt hot, sweaty, much more than she ever had while exercising before.

Deciding she’d done enough, she walked over to the pool. Discarding her tracksuit, she used the ladder, shivering as she descended into the cool water. Made a mental note to ask him to up the temperature. Taking a deep breath, she ducked under, sinking to the bottom, then shooting up. She grabbed the rail, shaking her head, refilling her lungs... Found herself staring at a pair of slender feet attached to tanned legs with a light covering of black hair.

She tilted her head for a slow scan past firm calves to the muscular thighs that had steered her round the dance floor last night...and a pair of black swimming trunks that left no doubt as to his manhood.

Her mouth dried; her pulse raced. Her body heat overrode the chill from the surrounding water. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, chose the coward’s path and swung into a freestyle stroke away from him. Quickened her pace at the sound of a splash behind her.

Ethan overtook her, touched and turned at the end. He was still below the surface as they passed again. She recovered her composure, slowed to her normal leisurely pace. This wasn’t a contest.

Six laps were enough for her.

She sat on the top of the ladder, wrapped in a towel, her feet dangling. She ought to leave. Shower and dress. Think about dinner—no, too early for that. She stayed. Not sure why, except that it was mesmerising, watching Ethan churn through the water, hardly making a ripple. The way he went through life: single-minded, controlled.

He swam like a machine—clean, even strokes, powering along the pool, flipping like a seal at the end. She timed his push-offs. Always constant. So precise. So coordinated.

She frowned. He’d dipped in front of her on his last turn, hadn’t resurfaced. Suddenly he burst upward from the water, making her jump. His chest skimmed her legs as he rose, catching hold of the rail for stability.

‘Waiting for me?’ He grinned, spraying her with tiny drops as he shook his head.

‘Hey!’

He levered himself higher so they were on eye level. ‘It’s only water. Anything special you’d like to do tomorrow? We’ll have all day.’

‘Oh. No work or commitments?’

‘None. I’m all yours. Stay home, and relax. Go for a drive. Walk on the beach. Your choice.’

How was she supposed to make an instant decision with him so close that there was a hint of his cologne in the chlorine-scented air? With his glistening muscled torso inches from her twitching fingers? With his appealing blue eyes offering her something she refused to name?

‘A ferry ride.’ Out of the blue. From somewhere in her past.

His eyebrows almost met his dripping hairline. ‘You want to go on a ferry?’

She nodded. ‘The Manly Ferry across the heads. I used to love it during the winter in rough weather.’

His smile shot into a scowl. ‘No way are you going out in a storm.’ Grated out. Possessive.

She laughed, recognising the over-protective tone. ‘They don’t cross in really rough weather. I don’t get seasick. And it’s spring.’

He relented, didn’t look convinced. ‘We’ll decide at Circular Quay.’

He twisted, hoisted himself out onto the pool side and picked up the towel he’d left nearby. Alina stood, heading for the door as he patted excess water from his body. He caught her arm and took her towel from her.

‘Stand still.’

He moved behind her, began to dry her hair, firmly yet gently. It was soporific, soothing. She arched her neck in pleasure, sighed when he dropped the towel and began to massage her neck and shoulders. Trembled when his hot breath teased the pulse under her ear.

‘Your muscles are taut as a drum. A proper massage might help.’

From him? Considering he was the main reason for their tension, she doubted it, but his offer was tempting.

‘There’s a beauty parlour in the next block. Make an appointment.’

Why had it suddenly become less appealing?

* * *

After Alina had retired for the night Ethan turned off the television and dimmed the lights. Then, sipping brandy, his feet up on the coffee table, he tried to make sense of the mayhem his normally ordered life had become.

He was committed to becoming a short-term husband and a lifelong father. He was becoming attached to a woman whose heart and love belonged to a dead guy. Her response to him was merely physical. His carefully planned future was now a day-by-day unknown.

* * *

Ethan suggested they put light coats, plus anything else she wanted to take, into her backpack—which he’d carry. He deliberately lingered over breakfast, determined to use their outing to ease any tension between them, make this a day for light conversation with no conflict.

It was mid-morning as they strolled towards Circular Quay. After guiding her across the first road he linked their fingers, claiming it would prevent them from being separated by the crowds already building up. She didn’t argue, seemed content to let him be protective. He was rapidly becoming more comfortable with the feeling.

Had to curb it when, while drinking water and watching the boats, she declared she’d love to do the Harbour Bridge climb.

Alina hadn’t forgotten the sheer joy of crossing the heads to Manly on a windy day in choppy seas. She’d purposely blocked it from her mind. Now she realised how much she’d missed the city she’d lived in for so many years.

Today it was fairly mild, until they reached the gap leading to the ocean. She felt alive, leaning on the rail, facing into the breeze, letting it prickle her skin and tease her hair. Nautical toots and engine noise, calls from yachts as they sailed past, all combined with the sounds of circling seagulls to fill her world.

‘There’s nothing like this anywhere—nothing so exhilarating.’ She twisted her head to smile up at Ethan, braced behind her, his hands on the rail either side of her.

His expression said he didn’t quite agree. She turned back, leant well forward, as if searching, unsure how to express the way she felt. He repeatedly said that he owed her, but she hadn’t expected him to show it so personally, to spend so much time with her. Covering her living costs would have been ample.

‘Hey.’ One arm wrapped round her. ‘It’s a long way down.’

‘I’m looking for dolphins.’

‘Wrong area for them. Wrong season for whales.’

Husky tone, hot breath fanning her ear.

‘Some friends and I did a whale-watching trip along the coast a few years ago. Mid-June, I think. If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go.’

‘I’d love it.’ She let him draw her back against his chest. Breathed in the salty air. And him. Let herself live in the moment.

Ethan wondered if she knew how captivating she looked. Genuinely happy, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, she was irresistible. He made a mental note to arrange a day’s sailing with friends.

He cupped her cheek, bringing her face round to his. ‘Nothing like it. Definitely no sight more beautiful,’ he murmured, dipping his head to capture her mouth. He saw her eyes darken. Felt her tremble. Silently agreed: it was exhilarating.

The ferry lurched, breaking them apart. He grabbed the rail again, trapping her safely between his arms. They rocked in unison as the boat ploughed through the rough swell. General conversation might be safer.

‘I have to confess the only ferries I’ve been on for years have been for corporate evening events with catered food and drinks. My friends and I used to think day-old pies and cold cans of drink were the ultimate meal.’

He realised how many other simple pleasures he’d left behind as he built his Starburst chain. Pleasures Alina understood and still enjoyed. His adrenaline surged at the thought of her helping him rediscover them. Then she’d go, leaving him to share them with their child. He trembled at the challenge.

Alina felt it and looked round.

‘That wind’s cold. Do you want to go inside?’ he said.

He wasn’t lying. It went right through the jacket he’d put on before boarding. Hers wasn’t much heavier.

‘You’re kidding? Inside is for sensitive people, small children or the wuss breed. There’s hot drinks and delicious fish and chips waiting near the docks.’

She turned back to watch their approach into Manly.

Ethan nestled his head against hers. ‘Okay, but if I catch a chill you have to nurse me.’

The sound she gave was suspiciously like a giggle. ‘No chance. No virus would dare attack you without an appointment.’

He stiffened. Was that the impression he gave? Good humour won him over. A week ago she’d been wary of him, anxious about his reaction to her pregnancy. Ready with a plan to have the baby alone if he denied her. He felt a warm glow deep in his gut. If she liked him enough to bait him he must be doing something right.

So he had a reputation for being hardnosed in business? He also was known for being fair and trustworthy.

* * *

Late on Monday morning Alina walked through the foyer, trying to pep-talk away her apprehension. Exercising hadn’t helped. The line between truth and tacit lies seemed so tenuous. She was not the biological mother—had to persuade everyone she was. She and Ethan had never been lovers, had shared only a few kisses—one long one for an observer’s benefit. Were required to act as if they’d had a passionate affair.

Her trepidation had increased when she’d realised he’d been rescheduling appointments to accommodate her and the problems she’d brought him. This morning he’d left early for a meeting postponed from Wednesday. Thirty minutes ago he’d phoned to ask her to come down and meet the car as he’d be running late.

For the baby. For Louise and Leon.

Repeating her mantra silently, she went outside to wait in the shade, praying he wasn’t stuck in a traffic jam. The vehicle pulled in to the kerb as if summoned by her plea. She hurried forward, not giving the driver a chance to alight. Scrambling in, she dragged the door shut, leaving Ethan leaning forward awkwardly with his arm extended.

‘Oh, sorry.’ She gulped in a quick breath, inhaled his distinctive cologne. Flicked him an apologetic grin. ‘I’m not used to having someone take care of me.’

‘That lesson I’m learning.’ Cobalt eyes appraised her as the car moved off. ‘You look anxious, Alina.’ He caressed her jaw line, tilted her chin.

‘What do you expe—?’

He cut off her rebuke by firmly pressing his lips to hers. Her heartbeat hiccupped, doubled in speed. Sent her blood racing along her veins.

The kiss lasted less than a moment. Or for ever. Too long. Too short. She slumped against the seat and stared at him, too befuddled to think coherently. The piercing eyes holding hers hostage showed no sign of the turmoil he’d inflicted.

She consciously steadied her breathing. ‘You should warn me.’ It came out like a husky plea for more rather than a reproach.

Ethan gave a low chuckle that resonated over her skin and skittered down her spine. ‘So it’s okay to kiss you any time as long as I don’t surprise you?’

His amusement stretched already taut nerves. ‘That’s not what I meant.’ She scrunched her eyes and bit on her lip.

‘I’m not insensitive, Alina.’ He lifted his hand. Let it drop. ‘Every time I touch you I’m very aware of how you feel. Remember we need to portray a couple who can’t resist each other?’

For him it was all for public image, so his declaration should please, not disappoint. Stupid hormones. She so had to check with the doctor why they were affecting her this way. In private.

‘I can handle the pretence.’ Liar. ‘I’m getting used to it.’ Double liar. ‘It’s... The doctor might ask for information I can’t...can’t give.’

‘Ah...’

As if he understood. She shook with frustration. ‘No, you don’t get it. I can give her the dates she’ll need, fudge the method of conception. It’s... She’s bound to ask...’

It had been bad enough writing details on the clinic’s patient information forms he’d accessed on Friday. She’d thanked him for his considerate action in allowing her to fill out her medical history privately. It was the idea of it being voiced out loud that was eating at her. There was no way to explain the dark place where she’d buried the unbearable pain and heartbreak.

He wrapped his arms around her, drew her into his warmth. His hands began a soothing caress over her spine.

His voice was gentle, as if speaking to a child. ‘You’re not alone, Alina. I’ll be with you.’ His hands stilled. ‘Unless you want to see her alone.’

Of course she did.

‘No, that’s cowardly. I can handle it.’ Her quivering voice proved otherwise.

‘Are you sure?’

He meant it. And the compassion in his blue eyes and the generosity of his offer gave her strength.

‘You may have questions too. Besides, the father has the right to be there.’ With a jolt of amazement, she realised a simple truth. ‘I’d like you to be there.’

‘I am the father...’ His large hand covered her abdomen. ‘My baby. Our child.’

She didn’t protest and he appeared satisfied. She’d never be able to use that phrase, never be able to care that way again. Hearing it resonate from him relieved her. He was going be a great father.

* * *

Ethan linked his fingers with hers as they entered the light, hospitable clinic. Her anxiety was palpable and he had no remedy. Give him a struggling business to rescue any time.

‘Relax, Alina. It’s only a preliminary examination.’

At least his words earned him a faint smile. He steered her into an empty elevator and pressed the button. The compulsion to comfort her and drive the shadows from her soulful eyes rippled through him.

‘We’re bending the truth for our child’s sake, Alina. The book claims doctors need dates and medical history—nothing more. No one’s going to pry into your personal history.’

Her eyes widened in astonishment. ‘What book?’

‘The one I bought Tuesday morning, specifically written for expectant fathers.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Very informative and downright scary.’

They stopped and he guided her out.

She handed in the forms and her obligatory urine sample at Reception and were directed to an empty waiting room. Light classical music played softly in the background. Alina sat idly flipping the pages of a magazine. Ethan filled two plastic cups from an orange juice dispenser and offered one to her.

She accepted it with a noticeably shaky hand and his heart sank. He noticed her agitated finger movements, half hidden by the bag on her lap, finishing in a clenched fist. Hoping their appointment wasn’t delayed, he put his cup on the low table and wrapped steadying fingers around her hand.

‘Patricia Conlan has a very good reputation.’ He raised the hand clasping the cup to her lips. ‘Now, drink. Slowly.’

Alina obeyed, emptying the cup. He drained his, took both cups to a bin, then returned to sit beside her, studying a poster on the wall opposite.

She kept her eyes downcast, wishing she had his self-discipline. He’d been predictably shaken by her initial bombshell, and angry a few times during subsequent conversations, but he’d rapidly recovered his composure every time. She, on the other hand, had trouble keeping any control over her emotions.

She glanced sideways, surprised to find him looking more nervous than he’d let on. The long supple fingers of his right hand thrummed on his thigh, and she recalled them spanning her stomach. The image of them sensuously exploring her body flashed into her brain, and she couldn’t stifle a throaty gasp.

He jerked round. ‘Alina, are you all right?’

‘Alina Fletcher?’

She jumped up, willing her burning cheeks to cool, grateful for the interruption from the uniformed woman in the doorway.

They were ushered into the consulting room.

‘Dr Conlan will be with you in... Ah, here she is.’

‘Alina, Ethan. It’s nice to meet you.’ The fortyish woman with slightly mussed brown hair and bright blue eyes clasped her hands, then Ethan’s, in genuine welcome.

‘Let’s sit down and get acquainted.’ She emanated compassion and invited trust.

‘Thank you, Dr Conlan.’ Alina took a seat, placing her handbag on the floor as a folder was opened and perused. Even Ethan’s reassurance couldn’t dispel her feeling of foreboding at the thought of queries about her past. An occasional note was written, an occasional ‘hmm’ mouthed.

She noticed a slight resemblance to her husband’s Aunt Jean, triggering a pang of guilt. She’d only kept in token touch with everyone, had avoided personal contact. In a few weeks she’d have to notify them that she was living in Sydney. Remarried. Having another baby. The latter when Ethan decided to make the announcement.

Sneaking a peek at him, she met genuine concern. Whatever he saw caused him to take her hand, link their fingers and squeeze. He had no idea how calming those slight actions were.

Dr Conlan laid down her pen and glasses, placed her elbows on her desk and linked her fingers. She smiled sympathetically.

‘I appreciate this must revive painful memories for you, Alina, and I sincerely hope your new baby brings you happiness.’

Ethan squeezed her hand again.

‘The sample you brought in officially confirms your pregnancy. If you’d like to go into the examination area, I’ll be in shortly. We’ll talk after.’

Alina went to the open doorway indicated. The faint murmur of voices drifted in as she prepared and lay down on the examining table. She stared at the ceiling, silently chanting her mantra.

Australian Affairs: Rescued

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