Australian Affairs: Rescued. Meredith Webber

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Australian Affairs: Rescued - Meredith Webber


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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.

      *


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