Was he crazy? Her staying would bring embarrassment to his family, cause conflict with his parents. Better she go, returning later in the year. No matter what agreement they made, this baby would be born in Australia.
‘You stay with me. You signed a legal contract to carry and give birth to this child. The purpose of your scheme was to prevent that child from suffering any repercussions from its origin or circumstances. Nothing’s changed.’
Corporate-speak. Direct. Uncompromising.
He turned the laptop, enabling her to see the document displayed. An insane impulse to laugh shook her. It was an application for a marriage licence, with the groom’s details already entered on the left, her name and his address on the right.
She bit back a negative retort. Ethan James didn’t play games. He dealt with every situation shrewdly, sweeping aside opposition with logic and unwavering perseverance. And that was what she was to him—a situation, to be processed with tact and practicality.
He set the laptop aside, turned towards her. She flinched as his hand splayed across her abdomen, sending a warm glow sliding from cell to cell. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his touch.
His voice was honey-smooth, adamant.
‘Alina, the baby you carry is my family. I can’t—I won’t—permit this child to be born illegitimate.’
She sympathised, but he had no idea what he was demanding from her. The warmth faded, replaced by a cold chill. Another hand, so like his, had lain there, eagerly anticipating the movement of an unborn baby. Caring. Sharing. Taken from her with no warning.
Somewhere out in the real world a driver beeped his horn. She sensed Ethan studying her, could imagine his brain churning with arguments to reinforce his demand. For him her full compliance was essential. He’d accept nothing less.
His words might come from an innate sense of duty, but the passion in his voice proclaimed a deep brotherly love. She’d been a willing party to the covert plan to protect the baby’s name. It was as essential now as it had been then. She consigned her memories to the deep pit where they belonged.
‘This explains your interest in my papers. How long is it supposed to last?’ It came out wrong. She hadn’t meant to sound so cold, so detached. She certainly wasn’t prepared for the pained look in his eyes.
‘We’ve got seven months to sort out the future. No one will be surprised if our sudden marriage doesn’t survive long-term.’ His hand left her stomach and cupped her chin. ‘I won’t force you to stay, and I swear you won’t lose from this arrangement.’
He was right—because she’d already lost everything worthwhile. She’d bought a new gold ring because she hadn’t been able to bear the sight or the feel of the original. Wearing it discouraged male attention. He offered a marriage of convenience. No intimacy. No permanency. An expedient arrangement, lasting long enough to convince everyone he was the father.
She couldn’t tell him—couldn’t tell anyone about the darkness. Remembering the past tore her apart. Speaking of it out loud was unthinkable. His way made sense. If they married, his paternity would be undisputed. He’d give this baby the love she was incapable of feeling.
‘You give me your word that I can leave when I decide?’
Being nomadic, with no involvements, was the only way to prevent her life from being devastated again. Last year she’d occasionally been drawn into small-town activities. And she’d connected with Louise and offered her help, completely breaking her basic rules. Look where that had landed her.
‘Yes.’ It was blunt. His body was rigid, his features unreadable.
‘All right. I’ll marry you. When will it be?’ So impersonal, so soulless. Why did that worry her?
‘Tomorrow morning we’ll collect the documents we need from your solicitor for a one o’clock meeting with the celebrant. She’ll check the application, lodge it immediately, and the wedding will be a month later.’
He packed the computer into its bag.
As soon as legally permitted. Eleven years ago it had seemed to her like an eternity to wait.
ETHAN CONTINUED TALKING as he unbuckled his seatbelt. ‘I’ll be here at eight-thirty in the morning.’
With a start she realised they’d reached her hotel.
‘I’ll be in the lobby.’
How did you say goodnight to the stranger you’d promised to marry? The day after you’d met? A man you’d never even kissed.
That last thought rattled her, and she tripped alighting from the vehicle. Ethan steadied her with an arm around her waist. She trembled from his touch—or her own agitation. She wasn’t sure which.
‘I’ll see you to your room.’
He guided her through the foyer towards the elevators.
‘It’s quicker to walk up one flight,’ she said, grateful no one else was there. His aroma mingled with hers, filling the space, heightening her already taut nerves.
He followed her into her room, his sharp, narrow-eyed appraisal of the decor rankling. To her dismay she sensed him making mental note of the mundane fixtures and colours. Her accommodation, definitely lower standard than his hotel, faced the rear of an office block. It was simply somewhere to shower and sleep for a few days.
‘It’s clean and comfortable,’ she retorted. ‘It suits my budget. So, if you’ve finished being critical, I’d like to get some sleep.’
‘I’m not judging, Alina. By contacting me you have placed yourself and our child under my protection. That’s the reason you can’t stay here.’
He reached out to her. She stepped back, holding up her hand. She didn’t have the inclination to pack even the few belongings she’d brought for a short stay. In addition, she needed some physical space between them to reinforce mental distance.
‘Not tonight. I’ll check out in the morning.’
His expression disheartened her.
‘Please, Ethan,’ she begged. ‘Give me one night.’
He relented, let out a rough grunt. ‘I’ve been pretty hard on you, haven’t I? No more than on myself, I swear.’
He touched her cheek gently. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. May I have your mobile for a moment?’
He took it and programmed his number in.
‘In case you need to contact me. Sometime tomorrow we’ll transfer your phone to an Australian plan.’ He brushed his lips on her forehead. ‘Sleep well, Alina.’
She locked the door behind him. Leant her brow against it, her mind a fuddled whirlpool of everything they’d said and done, everything they hadn’t, the way he’d looked, smelt and created minute fissures in her defences.
She filled out the breakfast menu, hooked it on the outside door handle, then sank wearily onto the bed, just for a few minutes. Tomorrow she’d need to be focused. Solicitor. Celebrant. Hazily she wondered what else he had planned.
He’d already booked the celebrant, arrogantly confident that she’d accept his proposal. Not that he’d actually asked her. She ought to...
Deep, dreamless sleep claimed her, held her despite the traffic noise. Held her through the alarm’s whirl.
* * *
Ethan rested his head against the seat, staring unseeing at the city buildings on the drive home. He’d wanted to kiss Alina Fletcher. Not the soft-touch goodnight kiss he’d given her prior to leaving, but full mouth-to-mouth contact. Another