Bound by the Unborn Baby

by Bella Bucannon

  Probably wouldn’t have changed the end result.

  He glanced across, met wounded eyes in an ash-white face and hit the brake, swinging into the kerb. He flung off his seatbelt, hauling Alina into his arms as he fumbled for her clasp. Holding her against his heart, breathing in her subtle aroma, was so liberating after the overpowering room they’d left behind, his anger began to dissipate.

  ‘I needed this. Needed your sweetness.’ He stroked her back, brushed her hair with his lips. ‘I’m sorry, Alina—forgive me for taking you there. You’ve done nothing to deserve the way they treated you. Nothing.’

  She gave a muted sound suspiciously like a sob into his chest. He threaded his fingers thorough her hair and tilted her head up. Wanted to wipe the deep sorrow in her eyes away for ever. Hated that he didn’t know how. Her trembling lips broke his heart.

  ‘Why are they like that? No one’s ever treated me as if I’m nothing, not good enough to be polite to. No one—in all the places I’ve been.’

  ‘And they’ll never get another chance.’

  ‘No.’ She pushed away, shaking her head. ‘They’re your parents, Ethan, your family. Don’t lock the door. Life can change in a split second and then it’s too late to go back. We both know that.’

  He threw his head back against his seat, closed his eyes. He did know, and it hurt like hell. Her self-deprecating laugh penetrated the anguish.

  ‘I think, somewhere deep in my head, I expected them to accept me the way Colin’s parents did.’

  His eyes flew open at the mention of her husband. She sat, half turned towards him, hands in her lap, eyes downcast. He held his breath, didn’t dare move a muscle.

  ‘We met when he was twenty, still at uni. I was only seventeen, and a major distraction to his studies, yet his parents welcomed me, treating me like a loved daughter. They were so thrilled when...’

  Lord, it was so hard not to reach for her as she painfully struggled for the next word.

  ‘When M... M... Michael was born. We were a real family.’

  She went silent. Seemed immobile. Waiting was excruciating, but he sensed there was more she wanted to say. For her own sake.

  ‘They’re all gone. I’m not.’ Her head came up, eyes big and dark with despair. ‘Why just me?’ She began to tremble violently.

  Now he moved, spurred by the stabbing pain that raked him. He enfolded her into his warmth. Desperate to comfort her, desperate for comfort himself. She’d been the only survivor. She might have died too.

  Headlights lit up the windscreen. Alina pulled back, blinking, trying to regain composure. She hadn’t spoken about the accident since it had happened. Why now? Why to Ethan?

  ‘Take me home. Please.’

  He didn’t move, kept a loose hold on her, his features grey and heartrending, his eyes dark and tortured.

  ‘Ethan?’

  His shoulders shook as he shuddered. His eyes refocused.

  ‘Home. Yes, let’s go home.’

  * * *

  When they arrived at the apartment Alina stayed Ethan’s hand when he reached for the light switch.

  ‘Leave them off.’

  The lights from the city gave the room a soft glow, a more confiding atmosphere. He’d defended her against his parents’ insinuations; he deserved to know more than the half-reveal she’d given him. At least the meagre details she hadn’t been able to avoid learning.

  She poured herself a glass of water, and took her defensive place on the settee. Ethan followed with a cold beer—the drink he usually favoured in afternoons. When he saw the way she was huddled in the corner his brow furrowed, but he chose the other end, folding one leg up, his body towards her.

  She drank half the glass to clear her throat, then fixed her gaze on the window. There was no emotion in her flat, detached voice.

  ‘We’d been on a week’s holiday, touring places near the New South Wales and Victoria border. The plan was to stop for the night, then drive home. Colin and his dad were both careful drivers, changing over whenever we stopped. It was getting dark, and I heard them talk of the next town being about thirty minutes away before I fell asleep.’

  Ethan gripped the cold metal can so hard it began to buckle. His throat was so tight he could hardly breathe. He knew what was coming, didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t avoid it. Couldn’t take his eyes from her pale, impassive face and blank, unseeing eyes. He watched her drain her glass, swallow with difficulty, and shiver as she drew in breath.

  ‘Everything’s a blur after that. Screams, thuds, screeching metal. Voices and sirens. That hospital smell. I don’t remember who told me. Someone in the corridor mentioned a kangaroo and a semitrailer. I didn’t want to know—never want to know.’ Her voice broke. ‘I had concussion from a head wound, lots of cuts and bruises. And they all died.’

  Her empty glass fell into her lap. She hunched over, covering her face with her hands.

  Ethan’s hand shook as he put down his drink and automatically moved her glass to the table. Her words had torn an agonising path into the depths of his soul. A tiny twist of fate and he’d never have known her.

  Would she push him away if he reached for her? His confidence faltered.

  ‘Alina?’ Desperate. Begging to help her. ‘I’m here. Whenever you want or need me.’

  She lifted tortured eyes that stared at him as if she wondered who he was, why he was there. Then her face cleared and she flung herself into his arms.

  ‘Ethan. Hold me.’

  He cradled her as close as humanly possible, needing to reassure her. Needing reassurance himself. She was meant to live. Meant to have this baby with him. Meant to love again one day.

  ‘Hold me tight, Ethan. Hold me. Please don’t let me be alone.’

  He held her. For as long as she’d let him, he’d hold her.

  ‘You’re not alone any more, darling. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. I’ll be here to hold you, comfort and care for you. You, my beautiful, courageous Alina.’

  He caressed her back, murmured words from his heart, knowing she might not understand. Knowing only that he needed to voice how much she’d come to mean to him. The baby she carried was an added joy.

  He kept talking, even after her body softened in sleep against him. He had no idea when she’d be ready to hear his admission in the cold light of day.

  * * *

  A long-forgotten sensation infiltrated Alina’s brain, enticing her to wake; less pleasant ones held her in limbo. A familiar earthy aroma surrounded her. A light breeze stirred her hair. She moved, yet the warm wall at her side stayed. Warmth spread from the weight on her stomach.

  Her senses kicked in. Her eyes fluttered, flew open. She was lying on her back, early-morning light allowing her to see an unknown painting on the wrong wall. A white-sleeve-covered arm stretched out from under her neck. She was in Ethan’s arms. In his bed. Still wearing her dress.

  Her last recollection was of Ethan twisting them both so they lay prone on the settee, of his hands soothing her to sleep. He’d done as she’d pleaded, had cradled her. Hadn’t left her on her own.

  She turned her head. He lay on his side, his chest moving in steady rhythm. Hassle-free in sleep, his features were softer, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes less obvious. His stubbled jaw was strangely appealing. He slept so peacefully for a man whose world had been blown apart. By her.

  She arched her neck. To wake the sleeping Prince with a kiss? Crazy notion. She rolled towards the edge of the bed.

  ‘Alina?’ Slumber-rough and drowsy.

  His hand caught her arm, slipped off, and she slid onto the floor.

  ‘It’s late. I have things to do.’

  Like run from an awkward situation.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ETHAN HAD THE table set
when Alina arrived in the dining area, calm and guarded. She quickly sat down without speaking, not giving him the chance to be polite. He understood her reticence, hoped she’d still feel able to talk about her family.

  She flicked a glance at him as he put a mug of peach tea in front of her. A delicate rosy hue coloured her skin. Where was the feistiness she’d shown in the past?

  He felt her gaze follow him as he took his seat, grabbed his favourite cereal and filled his bowl.

  ‘That was cowardly of me.’

  Subdued tone. Why was she so nervous? Waiting for her to elucidate, he prayed her confession hadn’t caused a regression in their growing relationship.

  ‘When I woke up in your bed I bolted like a naive teenager.’

  He nodded. ‘A natural reaction after your revelations, Alina.’

  She filled her bowl with fruity nut muesli, kept her head down while she ate, as if mulling over an important issue.

  ‘Was there a woman in your life when I came?’

  He spluttered on his coffee. Hell, she kept finding new ways to surprise him.

  ‘There hasn’t been anyone for a long time. I swear there will be no one as long as you are with me.’

  Her nod was barely perceptible. She swallowed as she averted her gaze, reinforcing her apprehension. Hidden under the table, her left hand would be performing its ritual dance.

  ‘Do... Do you expect... Want me to move into your room after the wedding?’

  She completely took his breath away with that one. His jaw dropped; adrenaline zapped through his veins. He’d been trying to work out how to introduce the topic gently; she’d come right out with it. He leant back, studying her, wondering if she realised how courageous and strong she was.

  ‘Alina Fletcher, you are amazing. I’ve bulldozed you into agreements you’d rather run a mile from. My actions have rekindled harrowing memories you’d prefer were left buried. Yet you offer compromises which will reinforce our child’s parentage.’

  Her eyes widened as he spoke. The soft blush he’d begun to anticipate and adore tinged her cheeks. Across the table was too far a distance. Pushing his chair away, he walked around it, took her hand and lifted her to her feet. Cupped her cheek.

  ‘Having you in my arms as I fell asleep felt better than anything I can remember. As if protecting you and our baby gives my life true meaning for the first time. I’d like to feel that way every night, but the choice is yours, Alina. Now, after we’re married or never. I want you there only if it’s where you want to be.’

  She placed her hand over his heart, her lips curling into a sweet smile and a warm glow flickering in her eyes.

  ‘It felt nice.’ She glanced away, breathed in, then met his eyes again. ‘Can we talk about Colin’s aunt and uncle? Jean and Ray?’

  Any subject was fine by him. Every conversation revealed a little more of who they were and brought them closer. He settled her back into her seat.

  Alina gathered the thoughts that had tumbled through her mind as she’d showered and dressed. Looking into Ethan’s sympathetic eyes, she suddenly found it easy.

  ‘They were the ones who held it all together for me after... Well, you know. They and the solicitor arranged everything—cleared the house and sold it, put everything in storage.’

  She stopped, turned her head to stare at the floor. Looked at him again.

  ‘They took me in and cared for me, even though they were grieving too. I owed them so much and I ran. Fled the country. I phoned or wrote occasionally, and sent postcards of the places I visited. Yesterday she was so welcoming...refused to let me feel guilty.’

  ‘Because she understands. You needed time and distance to heal. I’d like to meet them. And I think you’d like them to be at our wedding.’

  ‘Yes, very much.’

  ‘After we’ve eaten, ring and see if they’re home today.

  * * *

  Unlucky to see the bride before the wedding? Yeah, right—that had really worked for her before.

  Sophia James had probably insisted that Louise follow tradition. And Alina hadn’t been able to deny Jean’s request after she’d been so supportive, even promising to keep the wedding a secret.

  Ethan had won Jean and Ray over with his charm and sincerity, convincing them that Alina was the only woman he’d ever wanted to marry. Jean truly believed he loved her. Only Alina knew he wanted to ensure the baby’s right to his name.

  After a teasing protest he had agreed to let Alina and Jean spend two nights in the hotel suite in order to shop and prepare. His compromise had been being allowed to have a short time alone with Alina the night before the ceremony.

  He’d sat beside her in the lounge, took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

  ‘Everything had to be arranged so quickly we didn’t follow many of the usual traditions. This one I can make right.’

  Before she could speak he stunned her by dropping to one knee without relinquishing his hold.

  ‘Alina Fletcher, will you marry me tomorrow? Be my wife for as long as you feel you can?’

  Her heart lurched at the hitch in his voice on the second question. Her eyes misted; her throat choked up. She looked into sincere cobalt eyes and her answer came easily.

  ‘Yes, I’ll marry you, Ethan.’ She refused to think about the time limit right now.

  He pulled a flat black box engraved with a familiar jeweller’s name from his jacket. The exquisite amethyst pendant was a flawless match for her engagement ring. Another thoughtful gift she wasn’t sure she deserved.

  She stared wide-eyed at this man who’d so drastically changed her life, pushed and cajoled her in matters he deemed important, eased off and given her freedom in others. Like where she slept. Knowing she was attracted to him, yet still unsure of herself, she hadn’t slept with him again. As promised, he hadn’t mentioned it.

  Over the last two weeks they’d slipped into an easy friendship she wanted to maintain though it was inexplicably frustrating sometimes. Hormones again?

  ‘It’s lovely, Ethan. Why...?’

  ‘Because I wanted to.’

  His lips covered hers in a long tender kiss. She slid the box onto the couch, leant in and wound her arms around his neck. Somehow she ended up in his lap on the floor, wishing he could stay.

  When he left his whispered, ‘I’ll miss you...’ was as tender as his kiss.

  * * *

  The wedding party was waiting for them in the roof garden. She had no reason to stall. Her hair shone with new highlights, its longer length framing her face and curling on her neck. The make-up applied by a beautician was light and perfect. Her long chiffon dress, shimmering with shades of lilac and silver, fell softly over her burgeoning bump. Her new necklace completed the illusion.

  This wasn’t the shy girl in a white princess gown who had trembled with eager anticipation eleven years ago. The woman staring at her today was a mature stranger, fulfilling a vow to friends. No wildly beating heart. No dreams of eternal love. Strip off the trappings and tonight’s ceremony was just a formal recognition of the decision Ethan had made to remedy a family dilemma.

  Everything changed the moment she stepped out of the elevator. He was watching for her, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and dark blue tie, his brilliant cobalt gaze immediately zoning in on hers. A dashing knight waiting for his princess.

  Her feet refused to move forward. Sensations cascaded through her brain, impossible to separate. Except for the one certainty she’d clung to since consenting to his scheme—her trust in this man, and her absolute belief that he’d never hurt or betray her.

  Her palms began to sweat as they gripped her orchid and fern bouquet. Her insides melted in a rush of heat while her heartbeat crashed into a rock ’n’ roll drum rhythm.

  A gentle nudge came from behin
d her. ‘He’s waiting for you, Alina.’

  Not any more. He strode forward, eyes gleaming, his radiant smile just for her. Taking her hands, he drew her to him, the rough timbre of his voice revealing his emotion. ‘Exquisite. Unforgettable.’

  Through misty eyes she was vaguely aware of Jean moving past her to join the others, glimpsed a photographer beside the celebrant. The city noises faded until there was only Ethan holding her, surrounded by a neon-enhanced darkening blue sky.

  His lips touched hers lightly, reverently. In an instant her mind cleared. Her reservations dissipated. She kissed him back, standing on tiptoe for deeper contact. The tremor that shook his body echoed in hers. They walked together to the flower festooned arch where she relinquished her bouquet, allowing them to join hands as they stood face to face.

  At this service the male response was calmer, clearer than the one so long ago. It ought to be impassive. Yet there was something in the resonance of his voice, in the pressure of his grasp and in the depths of his eyes that chipped at the barricades guarding her heart. She replied with the vows that would bind her to him in kind, without qualms or hesitation.

  ‘I pronounce you husband and wife.’

  Not waiting for permission, Ethan kissed her with all the fervour of a loving groom. Hugs and kisses were exchanged, and after the certificates were signed they all moved to a small lamplit marquee.

  The first toast was to the bride and groom, wishing them a long and happy life together. As they clinked glasses Ethan’s piercing eyes sent a message for her alone. His distinct, ‘To us!’ triggered a pleasurable shiver.

  The celebrant left and then their entrées were served. The wine waiter refilled their glasses and moved discreetly away.

  Ethan spoke next. ‘To those who will always be remembered, living on in our hearts.’ He held out his glass to Alina, dropped his gaze to her stomach and mouthed Louise and Leon. She reciprocated, touching her glass to his.

  Then her husband—a phrase she’d believed she’d never think or say again—surprised her even more. His fingertips gently lifted her chin and his eyes darkened with intensity as he repeated the salute. Her eyes misted as she understood his generous gesture. For Colin, his parents and Michael.