His light laughter was tinged with remorse.
‘I wish I’d been as courageous as her—constantly rebelling against the rigid conformity of our upbringing, openly making friends with people she liked, whether they were deemed acceptable or not. My way was quiet avoidance rather than personal confrontation.’
‘You kept Leon’s friendship, and championed them when they wanted to marry.’
He huffed. ‘My parents didn’t like that. I don’t think they’ve forgiven me for supporting Louise’s declaration that she’d happily have a park wedding without them. Not the “done thing” in their circle. It would have been embarrassing, so they capitulated.’
‘Do you see them regularly?’
‘We have little in common—different standards. They’d like me to be more involved in their close-knit elite group. I dislike the way they boast about my success to elevate their own status. They are, however, the only parents I have, so we maintain a polite relationship.’
He ate for a moment, eyes downcast. Pondering. Then looked up and spoke with determination.
‘Forget them for now. Cutting down my office hours is essential to my being available for appointments right now, and planning for our baby in the future. So I’ve been reorganising my staff.’
‘You’re delegating?
‘Even better—I’ve promoted. My second-in-command now has two assistant managers. Between the three of them they’ll take most of the day-to-day load off me. By the time our baby comes everything should be working smoothly enough for me to take paternity leave.’
‘Decision made. Action taken. Problem solved.’
‘You don’t approve?’ He sounded disappointed.
‘I do. Very much. It’s so much a part of who you are. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt secure enough to depend on anyone for anything.’
She was paying him a compliment, saying what he should want to hear. Ethan shouldn’t feel aggrieved, but he did. She admitted to trusting and relying on him—both important to their relationship. But he wanted something different, something more. Something indefinable.
He pushed back his chair, picked up his bowl.
‘I’ll clear. You head off,’ Alina said, buttering a piece of cold toast.
‘Okay. I should be home early afternoon. Did you buy bathers?’
‘Yes, haven’t worn them yet.’
He hadn’t used the gym since Sunday. Or the pool since Tuesday evening, after their talk. He was normally a creature of habit and liked his routine, which included daily exercise and swimming early morning or evening. The less disruption, the less stress. If she worked out at the same time he’d know she was okay. It would be a start to getting his life back in control.
‘How about when I get home? We’ll work out, then swim.’
Her face lit up. ‘That sounds good.’
He went to his room, planning a positive day. A few minutes later he collected his briefcase from his study, and left.
* * *
Alina ate her toast and honey, mulling over her every encounter with Ethan. She’d developed a habit of deep thinking over people and situations during her solitary lifestyle. Sometimes she created fictional stories about them in her mind to pass the time.
This was real. The attraction between them was real—had been since the moment she’d turned from that window. She could understand her reactions. Suddenly thrown into enforced proximity with an attractive, virile man after seven years alone... Pregnant, with rampant hormones playing havoc with her emotions...
His puzzled her. She appreciated the need for them to give the impression they’d been lovers, so kissing was essential. The first kiss had been experimental, to judge her response, the second for show. The others... She wasn’t sure. Yet she’d sensed tension in him every time—right from the initial touch of his lips on hers. As if he was keeping a tight rein on his actions. Or on emotions he claimed not to have.
She sipped her camomile tea, pulled a face. Cold toast was okay—cold tea was not drinkable. It was time to get cracking.
She clicked on the kettle, cleared the table and set herself up for a morning’s exploration of the internet.
* * *
The sound of the front door opening had Alina’s head swinging round. A quick check of her watch surprised her. Ten to three. How could it be that late?
‘Hi, you’ve set yourself up pretty well, there. Good use of the dining table.’
How did this man’s smile make a good day seem brighter?
‘Better than leaning over the coffee table. Did you get what you wanted done?’
‘Finally—it took longer than I’d hoped.’ He leant over her shoulder to check her screen. ‘Agassi Falls? Planning a trip, Alina?’
‘Just having fun surfing,’ she replied. ‘I checked out some courses, then spent some time finding out what all the icons stand for.’
‘I trust you’ve been taking breaks and eating properly?’ Banana peel lay in a small dish, alongside an empty mug on the table.
‘Yes, sir. I’ve stretched every hour...done other stuff in between.’ She arched her back and smiled up at him. ‘This morning I went out for a short walk; this afternoon I went through your kitchen cupboards to see what’s there before looking up some recipes. I found a few meals we might enjoy, but—’
‘You can’t print them out. We’ll fix that on Monday, along with a desk and chair.’ He held out a red USB. ‘In the meantime copy and use mine.’
‘Thank you.’ She surprised both of them by rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. ‘This is all I need. You don’t want to be left with excess stuff.’
Ethan opened his mouth to refute her claim. Changed his mind. Words weren’t going to change hers.
‘That’s my concern. Right now I’m psyched up for the session in the gym we agreed on.’ He took her hands, held her at arm’s length. ‘Hmm, nice tracksuit—you look as good in green as in blue. Give me five minutes.’
‘I’ll meet you there.’
He strode to his room, fantasising about the bathers she might be wearing under that outfit as he hastily pulled on T-shirt, bathers, track pants and sneakers. She was waiting for him, sitting on the press-ups bench. The lights were brighter than he usually set, the music a pleasant background sound.
‘Bike or treadmill for warm-up?’ she asked, offering him a bottle of water. ‘I don’t mind either.’
‘I’ll take the bike.’ It was still set up for him. ‘Twenty minutes okay?’
She agreed, and he selected a programme for mid-range difficulty. Settling into his normal pace was easy—resisting the temptation to watch Alina not so easy. She moved smoothly, gracefully.
‘I promise I won’t fall off.’ She’d caught him checking her out.
‘It’s been a while since anyone’s been here with me.’
Solitude in this special area had always been a plus. It was his private time, for releasing tension. Only occasionally had he invited anyone to join him. To his surprise, he didn’t mind Alina being there at all. In fact he felt downright glad to have her running alongside him. A feeling that unnerved him a little, causing him to switch back to getting-to-know-you mode.
‘What sort of keep-fit do you do on the move?’
‘Depends