He opened the box.
Excruciating. Like having old wounds ripped open with no anaesthetic. ‘It had to happen sometime.’ And it must be now.
She moved the box closer to her side. ‘I’ll find what we need.’
Her birth certificate and papers relevant to her mother were on the top, where they’d fallen. Nothing heartrending there. She passed them to him, willed her hands not to shake as she dragged a buff envelope from the bottom. She held her breath, forced herself to focus.
Concentrate on the two you need. Ignore the rest.
Icy fingers fisted round her heart. She clenched her teeth as she carefully removed two certificates. Tucking them under her hip, she waited until he’d finished entering information, then filed away the papers he’d used.
‘I’ll do the rest.’ She heard the tremor in her tone, stubbornly persisted, needing to retain some privacy. Needing to keep the walls up and solid. ‘It’s my past.’
He studied her with an intensity that made her insides quiver. ‘If you’re sure?’
She wasn’t. She had no choice. ‘Thank you.’
He settled the computer on her lap, ensuring it was stable. ‘I understand.’ He paused. ‘You haven’t eaten a lot this morning, have you? Fancy an early lunch?’
How could he tell? ‘I had toast and fruit—enough after that lovely meal last night.’ Truth was she’d had to force the food down, and she still wasn’t hungry.
His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. His interest wasn’t for her alone. She let him win.
‘Chicken salad with crusty bread sounds tempting. Will the dining room be open?’
‘We’ll have Room Service.’ He pulled out his mobile.
She tuned him out as she typed names, locations, dates. She recited, They are words, figures, nothing more in her head. Her newly unadorned finger mocked the information she entered.
‘Done,’ he told her. ‘We’ll eat, then deal with the celebrant. Changing your phone supplier has to be done in person, so we’ll combine that with a visit to the jeweller.’
She met the steely resolve in his eyes. He was locking her into her promise. There’d be no reneging allowed.
His mouth curved into a persuasive smile. ‘It won’t be so bad, Alina. You’ll have time to adjust to life with me until the wedding. Any functions I ask you to attend during our marriage will be quiet occasions, with people I trust.’
‘I made a list this morning.’ That was better. Keep the conversation on standard stuff.
This time his eyebrows actually arched. ‘What sort of list?’
‘Things to do. Everyone who’ll have to be notified that I’m relocating. Most of my official stuff goes to Crow’s Nest.’ She couldn’t stop the catch coming into her voice. ‘Louise used to check the mailbox in Barcelona for me sometimes.’
‘We’ll need to arrange for it to be redirected. Do you have a base there?’
‘No, I rented rooms on a casual basis. When I was away the owner stored my stuff for a small fee.’
‘We’ll fly over later, so you can decide what to bring back.’
She gave a short, hollow laugh. He made it sound like a day trip to another state. ‘Hardly worth a trip. There’s just an old suitcase and two plastic boxes.’
His turn to be confounded. ‘That’s all you have?’
Shoot, she’d spoken impulsively to a very astute man. She pictured the cold steel unit she’d visited once, fought the hard clench in her abdomen. Couldn’t lie. Couldn’t look into those perceptive eyes either.
‘Everything else I own is in storage. I don’t go there.’ Mentally or physically.
‘Too painful.’ He made it a statement.
Guilt tempered with empathy overrode her self-pity. His grief was new, raw, and he had to cope with the aftermath of the accident. He was processing the estate personally. She’d let her solicitor take charge.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan. I haven’t been very sympathetic to your loss. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself.’ She covered his hand with hers. ‘You’ve had so much to deal with and still managed to be patient with me.’
‘That’s easy.’ His voice hummed with tenderness. He flipped his hand to enfold hers. ‘You’re carrying our child.’ His sudden grin took her by surprise. ‘Do you have a things-to-buy list?’
She responded with a light laugh. ‘I’ve jotted down a few things. Why?’
‘Just wondering. All done?’
She frowned, realised he was referring to the marriage application, and felt the lightness of the mood change.
‘Not quite.’ She returned to the keyboard and added the final data. When she looked up his head was averted, as it had been when he’d made the call.
‘I’ve finished, Ethan. Thank you for giving me privacy.’
‘No problem, Alina.’
The car pulled in to the kerb as he stowed the computer in its bag.
* * *
Their lunch was delivered to a family suite. Afterwards Alina watched TV while Ethan went to another room to take a phone call. She viewed without seeing or hearing. Was he ever off duty? Her guilt resurfaced. The time and effort he was devoting to her meant less for his expanding empire.
The telephone’s ring made her jump. Should she answer it? Thankfully Ethan came through and told Reception to send their visitor up.
Too late to change her mind.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, tamped down her qualms. Steeled herself to act like a newly engaged woman. For his sister and brother-in-law. For their baby.
The celebrant was friendly, bright and efficient. She guided them through the procedure, gracefully declined a drink and promised to lodge the paperwork immediately. The wedding was set for Sunday, April the twentieth at five p.m.
Within fifteen minutes of her departure they were on their way to his apartment.
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.
&nbs
p; 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.’
Bound by the Unborn Baby Page 5
