Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Rescued: Bound by the Unborn Baby / Her Knight in the Outback / One Baby Step at a Time - Nikki Logan - Страница 15

CHAPTER SEVEN

SUBDUED NOISES CAME from the lounge as Ethan opened the front door—the earliest he’d been home for months. Putting his briefcase and packages down, he strode in. He hadn’t let Alina know he was on his way, meaning to surprise her. Instead he was the one who stopped short, spellbound by the vision in front of him.

Alina was ensconced on the settee, her eyes lowered, completely absorbed in the material in her hands, her tucked-up legs hidden by a flowing pleated floral skirt. He took in the sleek line of her neck, the satin glow of her cheeks, the sweep of her dark brown lashes. A perfect picture of natural beauty, and for the rest of this year she was his to admire.

He stepped forward, willing her to look up, anxious not to startle her. Her own subtle aroma enhanced her new perfume, making his nostrils flare, stirring his blood. She sensed his presence, gave him a shy glad-to-see-you smile that zinged straight to his heart.

With two paces, completely forgetting his mental declaration of self-control, he was beside her, his arms around her. He bent his head, glimpsed the reticence in her eyes and somehow managed to pull back. Couldn’t stop his grip intensifying, though.

‘Ouch.’ His left leg jerked. He massaged his thigh and chuckled. ‘I’ve been slapped a few times. Never stabbed.’

Alina paled, staring at the small metal needle in her fingers. ‘I...I’m sorry. I...you...I was sewing. You made me forget I...’

He took the offending weapon and placed it on the coffee table alongside an array of coloured thread. ‘My fault. I was distracted by the entrancing sight on my settee. Didn’t allow for hidden danger.’

She blushed at the compliment. ‘It’s not sharp. Do you want to check if there’s bleeding?’

The nervous tremor in her voice, plus the remorse in her eyes, acted like a dousing of cold water. He’d shocked her, shamed himself. This macho being, acting on impulse, wasn’t him. He couldn’t explain even to himself, didn’t know why.

He moved away, dragging his fingers through his hair, trying to concentrate on the essential reason for her presence in his apartment. Five days ago he’d had no idea she existed. To her he was the preferred solution to a situation she didn’t want long-term.

Boardroom strategy—that was what he needed. He had to get back to his original plan. Convince everyone they’d been lovers. Keep his distance in private. Best solution for everyone—especially the woman observing him now with dark, cautious eyes.

He picked up the cloth stretched over a round wooden hoop from her lap. Various shades of green thread had already been woven into the outline of a country cottage garden.

‘Interesting. Pretty scene.’

‘Small, light, fits into my backpack and challenging enough to keep me occupied in the evenings.’ She took it from him and laid it on the table. ‘It’s absorbing—stops me from thinking too much.’

‘And you have a weapon handy if you’re attacked,’ he teased, standing up and pulling her to her feet. ‘New dress? Beautiful.’ His scroll from head to foot was deliberately quick, yet he still felt an appreciative clench. ‘Good shopping trip?’

Her smile faded. ‘Not my favourite occupation. Having no idea what size I’m going to be in a few weeks doesn’t help. How was your day?’

‘Busy. I received a delivery today. Let’s sit down.’

She tensed as he reached into his inside pocket and brought out a small black box.

Taking her left hand in his, he slid the amethyst ring onto her finger. ‘Perfect fit.’

She stared down at their joined hands. Her posture slumped.

‘Alina.’ Her head came up. He had a quick glimpse of sorrow, then it cleared. ‘Remember why we’re doing this. Who it’s for.’

‘I know.’ She freed her hand then crossed her arms, hugging her body. ‘It’s... All this isn’t what I expected.’ Her mouth tried to form a smile. Didn’t quite make it. ‘I won’t let you down.’

So brave, so determined to do the right thing, no matter how heart-wrenching her memories. So delightfully confused by her physical reaction to him.

Basic instinct urged him to hold her, protect her from more pain. But it wouldn’t work for either of them. She wasn’t going to stay. She had emotional baggage that his expectations of her were exacerbating. He had an agenda, an empire to build. He’d have a young child completely dependent on him.

He accepted he’d never be as approachable as his sister. She’d rebelled outwardly against their parents’ attitude, defied them to marry the man she loved, and emigrated to escape their continued interference. He’d channelled everything into developing his company, determined never to emulate his parents and end up in a cold, loveless marriage.

Better to stay a bachelor, to enjoy female company without emotional entanglements. Strict rules and no pain when it ended. Becoming a single father at this stage might throw his life out of whack, testing him to the full, but he’d cope, adjust and succeed.

And on the topic of interference, Alina needed to be aware of a major factor.

‘My parents won’t be invited, so please don’t wear the ring in public until after the wedding.’

She frowned, not understanding his meaning.

He explained. ‘I’ve gathered Louise mentioned their attitude on social standing and—unbelievable in today’s world—“breeding”. They take snobbery to a new height. You’re in or you’re out, no middle ground.’

His gut clenched as he recalled their fights with Louise, their turning on him when he had defended her and Leon.

‘They were never happy with Leon being my best friend because, although he was wealthy enough to give his children the best education affordable, his father had begun his working life as a bricklayer. His building firm is my main contractor, always will be. When Leon asked their permission to marry Louise they practically threw him out, forbade him from seeing her.’

‘Which obviously didn’t work. Couldn’t they see how happy they were? How much he...he adored her?’ Her voice faltered over the last few words.

‘That didn’t factor in their thinking. Our wedding may not be conventional, but I’d like it to be an occasion you’ll remember fondly. There’ll be no one there who might upset you in any way. Telling them afterwards gives them no choice but to accept that we’re married.’

‘I understand.’ She began to slip the ring off. He stopped her.

‘Keep it on at home. For me.’ He brought her fingers to his lips for a second, then stood up. ‘I’ve also got something to help occupy your time. Close your eyes.’

Alina had no fear of natural darkness. It was her own internal black world that tormented her. So, as soon as she sensed him leave she covered her eyes with her hands and opened them.

Shame at the way she’d swayed forward for his kiss, had almost succumbed to him, fizzed in her stomach. At the time she’d seemed to be weightless, floating, with no power over her limbs or her actions. She didn’t resist. Didn’t participate.

When he’d sprung away the bewilderment had had her blathering like a drunk, made worse by his shocked expression and deliberate retreat, putting distance between them. He’d recovered first, bringing normality back to the conversation, seemingly putting their embrace behind him.

That was what she had to do—act like a mature woman. She took long deep breaths, calming her stomach. Her defensive shields were solid. Mind you, if they began to crumble...

‘Keep them shut.’

He’d returned.

‘Or covered.’

Must be looking at her.

She heard some clunks, and the drag of the coffee table. The cushions dipped as he sat next to her. Now her stomach sizzled with suspense.

‘This is for you.’

She stared in astonishment at the red laptop with matching mouse and butterfly motif pad. Alongside lay a hardcover notebook plus a boxed set of pens. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Grinning broadly, Ethan gently lowered it, then lifted the computer’s lid. ‘The password’s “bluesheen” at the moment.’

‘You bought this for me?’ Her incredulous gaze swung from his face to the laptop. Twice. She’d never had a computer of her own. Not with the nomadic life she lived. Though lately she’d been considering one of those lightweight notepads.

‘All yours. Complete with bag so you can take it anywhere.’

She touched the keyboard cautiously, her fingers tripping across the keys. He caught one and pressed it on ‘start’. The screen lit up and her eyes eagerly followed the process.

This was hers. Really hers. She turned to the man watching her with dark, hypnotic eyes. Swayed towards him again. Stopped. Touched his arm.

‘Thank you.’

She was lost for words.

So was Ethan for a moment. His heart pumped and the lump in his throat threatened to choke him. He’d seen the intent to kiss him in those sparkling violet eyes, and perversely he rued her change of mind.

‘You’re welcome. Mouse or touch?’ The connection for the wireless mouse was already in the port.

‘I’ve always used a mouse. I’ll have to learn to touch.’

Learn to touch him?

His chest tightened. He obviously hadn’t listened to his own pep talk.

She quickly bent forward and began to type in the password; her hair only partially covering her reddening skin. He wasn’t fooled by the action, and surmised she’d had the same thought.

‘Why “bluesheen”?’ The catch in her voice spoke volumes.

‘Came out of the air.’ She’d been wearing blue the day they met. ‘Easily changed.’

‘I love it. What are all these icons for?’

Her eyes shone with excitement, heightening his own pleasure.

‘Finding out is part of the fun. I’ve added the internet, an email account and cloud backup.’ He opened the notebook. ‘All the passwords are written in here, plus relevant names with phone numbers—including my IT guy, who set it up. He’s offered to give you one-on-one lessons if you like. I’m not too bad—he’s brilliant.’

‘Why? You know I won’t be staying, so why are you doing this?’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t argue—just accept it. You can enrol for online courses...there’s plenty to choose from.’ He lightened the mood by joking. ‘Imagine all the lists you’ll be able to create. And you know you’ll enjoy finding recipes.’

‘You may not think so when you have to eat my weird concoctions.’ She smiled back.

‘I’ll take my chances.’

His mobile rang. Bad timing. She was more at ease with him now than she’d ever been. Muttering a light curse, he wrenched the offending instrument out of his pocket, checked the caller. With a grimace he stood up.

‘I have to take this. Do you have dinner planned?’

‘Yes, but not started.’

‘Save it for tomorrow. I’ll book somewhere quiet where we can talk.’ He got to the end of the lounge and glanced back, his dazzling smile sending heatwaves to every region of her body.

‘You really do look exquisite, Alina.’

Another genuine compliment that gave her confidence another boost. It was hard to believe he’d bought her such a thoughtful gift she’d use in so many ways. The expense hardly registered with him. The time and effort he’d taken meant so much more.

Shutting down the laptop, she watched each process avidly, wanting to take in every little detail before carefully closing the lid. When she packed everything into the bag she found a charger and a set-up manual.

She’d intended to try shopping again tomorrow—now she’d rather stay home and browse. Anything she didn’t understand would go on a list to be shown to Ethan. Although at least one session with his IT specialist was a must.

After putting her embroidery into a craft bag, she went to her room to give her minimal make-up a light touch-up.

As she walked along the hall the muffled mingling of running water with what sounded like a mistuned radio came through his door. Curiosity made her stop and press an ear to the wood. The slightly off-key singing persisted, too indistinct for her to recognise the vaguely familiar song.

The shower stopped. She scurried away, her cheeks burning. If he caught her would he be angry or amused?

She couldn’t get that tune out of her head...couldn’t remember the title. Couldn’t ask him.

* * *

For Alina the family-owned restaurant with its discreet booth tables was ideal. She hadn’t asked the name of the suburb; that would be making it a memory for keeping. Though, perversely, she knew she’d never forget the tasty meal, the restful music from the live band...her attentive escort.

Couples were moving on to the small dance floor and she watched them with envy. She had once known how it felt to be held tenderly, barely moving in a traditional lovers’ slow shuffle. Without warning, images of all the women Ethan might have entertained here broke into her daydream. Stunning. Polished. Fashion connoisseurs who’d dance faultlessly.

‘Hey.’ His deep voice cut through her thoughts and she turned to meet his amused gaze. ‘You’re very pensive. Care to share?’

Not in a million years. The predictable warmth stole up her neck. ‘Just enjoying the music. The meal was delicious. Is this a favourite haunt of yours?’

‘A friend brought me here last year. I kept it in mind, waiting for a special occasion.’ He put his hand invitingly, palm up, on the table. ‘Never found one until today.’

Mesmerised by his incredible dark blue eyes, she laid her hand in his. He began to stroke her knuckles with his thumb. She dismissed the danger signals in her head. Her skin tingled from his touch. Her throat dried up, and liquid wasn’t the solution.

Had she been so sensitive to male contact before? Had her hormones gone this crazy ten years ago? Those memories were locked away, never, ever to be revisited.

Ethan had seen her wistful expression as she watched the couples moving around the floor, her body swaying in time to the music. She was in another world. A long-lost world? He wanted her in the here and now, totally focused on them.

She’d provoked an acute rush of satisfaction when she’d given him her hand. His heartbeat had spiked, unaccustomed yearning snaking through him. The eons-old urge of man to protect his child? Or primitive gratification that its mother trusted him to safeguard them both?

‘Dance with me, Alina.’

She glanced across the room, shook her head. ‘I’ll embarrass you. I only do modern stuff with no touching. Nothing like this.’ She gestured towards the dancers. ‘They are so graceful.’

‘No touching ever?’ His eyebrows rose in disbelief. ‘Or only since...?’ He left his question unfinished, didn’t need a reply.

She tried to free her hand, merely succeeded in twisting it so that his thumb pressed into her palm. Stopped resisting when he resumed his slow caress. Was he playing fair? Touching and kissing hadn’t been mentioned when they’d first made their agreement. There’d been no reason in that emotionless civil conversation.

‘You’re denying something you really want, Alina. Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.’

Cautious eagerness dawned in her sceptical eyes. ‘Your toes might regret it if I do.’

He laughed, walked round the table without letting her go. ‘Let’s find out.’

Drawing her to her feet, he led her onto the dance floor. He placed her left hand on his shoulder, his right hand on her waist, then clasped her free hand in his, over his heart. Each movement was slow, deliberate. Non-threatening to her peace of mind.

‘Look at me, Alina.’

Alina did.

‘Trust me.’

She did.

‘Let me guide you.’

He held her firmly, murmured in her ear and directed her steps with his thighs. His breath tickled her earlobe, his cologne filled her nostrils. Heat radiated from his touch as he compensated for her initial stumbling. She let her muscles go loose, giving him full control of her movements.

They glided round the room as if floating on air. Her eyelids fluttered. The music combined with the man to create an ethereal realm she wished she could stay in for ever. No more sorrow. No more loneliness. She gave a soft sigh, glanced up—into a searing wave of cobalt desire.

Their feet stopped moving; their bodies swayed in time with the rhythm of the music. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, yet she felt his deep intake of air. Felt...

Guilt—as strong and shattering as when she’d been the only survivor.

The magic dissolved into stark reality. She began to shudder—couldn’t stop. She tried to pull away, found herself being ushered to their table and gently settled into her seat. The strong arm stayed around her, supportive, grounding.

A moment later there were muffled words in a concerned tone, a deep reply. Deep as Ethan’s voice but clipped, disconnected, not like him at all. She did know that it was his fingers lifting her chin, and hazily wondered why they trembled.

‘Alina?’

She blinked, saw his pale face, his brow creased in concern. She bent her head, unable to find words to explain.

His hand dropped. ‘Let’s go home. We’ll talk there.’

‘No.’ Plaintive, even to her own ears.

‘We have to.’ Soft-spoken. Decisive.

They drove home in silence. Alina counted cars as they passed, timed their stops at traffic lights—anything to keep from dwelling on the talk ahead. Could she feign a headache? Believable in the circumstances, but delaying the inevitable.

If Ethan James wanted to talk, they’d talk—sooner rather than later.