The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way

      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 unexpected jolt to his system, and the reason he’d let her stay at her hotel.

      His primal instinct to relocate her and shield her from any adverse action was logical. His nephew or niece—no, his son or daughter—deserved every resource at his command to ensure a safe and healthy start in life. The sexual attraction was another blindsider.

      The women he dated would never settle for ‘clean and comfortable’ accommodation in any circumstances. The woman he’d coerced into marrying him was an enigma, hiding more than she revealed.

      As he lay on his bed, reliving their conversation, the tight rein he kept on his emotions finally cracked. Images flickered through his brain like a movie screening: the secret signals between him and Louise at strict formal meals with his parents, late-night covert snacks watching clandestine television in his room. Her radiant face when she and Leon had confided they were in love. Boyhood games with his best mate, double-dating in their teens. Standing proudly beside him as best man at their wedding.

      The dam broke. The tears flowed for his spontaneous, vibrant sister. For his brother-in-law, friend and confidant. For the beloved couple who would never hold and cherish their child.

      He rolled over, buried his face into the pillow. Guttural, heart-wrenching sobs racked his body and soul.

      * * *

      Alina was already in the lobby when Ethan arrived fifteen minutes early the next morning. Her treacherous senses responded to his lithe movement as he strode across the pavement. She felt skittish, illogically animated, despite the stern talking-to she’d given herself as she’d showered and prepared to leave.

      The delivery of her breakfast at seven-thirty had finally awoken her, still fully dressed on top of the bed. Years of routine had enabled her to shower, pack and be settling her account within an hour. Years of self-enforced solitude had her wishing she could hail a cab and run.

      Stylishly dressed in tailored grey trousers and a short-sleeved dark green shirt, Ethan was halfway to the reception desk when he veered towards her. Her pulse skipped at the sight of his tanned muscular arms. Her cheeks flamed at the memory of his touch, his oh-so-light kiss on her brow. Had to be hormone madness. She refused to contemplate any alternative explanation.

      ‘Good morning, Alina. You look refreshed. Sleep well?’

      She recoiled from the full impact of the ‘seduction smile’ Louise had mentioned. Quickly recovered.

      ‘Yes, thank you. I’m ready to go.’ As she bent to collect her suitcase their fingers collided, adrenaline spiked. She jerked hers away at the same moment his body stiffened.

      ‘Gentleman’s prerogative,’ he murmured, picking up both pieces of luggage.

      She walked silently beside him to the street, where a chauffeur waited by the open boot of a limousine—same car, different driver.

      ‘I’ll programme the car hire number into your phone. Use it whenever you go out alone.’ He glanced at her as he stowed her luggage. Quickly added, ‘I appreciate you’re used to being independent, but since Monday you and our child are my family. I take care of what’s mine.’

      For a moment she resented his over-protective attitude, before realising the baby took precedence. As it should. She’d agreed to live the Ethan James lifestyle so she’d have to adapt and conform.

      ‘I’ll try.’

      ‘Thank you. We’ll need your solicitor’s address.’ As they drove off towards the harbour tunnel he offered her his mobile. ‘Call his office and arrange to have your papers ready for pick-up.’

      ‘Already done. He’ll see us when we arrive.’ His surprised expression forced her to explain. More than she’d wanted to. ‘I have his mobile number. He dealt with everything after...I was pathetically incapable of doing anything—couldn’t make decisions, couldn’t think. I...’

      ‘Was reacting normally to grief.’ His hand covered hers. ‘I understand, Alina.’

      ‘Um... He’s a good man. His office is my Australian address.’ I shouldn’t find your touch so comforting.

      ‘It might be expedient to change it to mine. You’ll be living with me at least until next year.’

      Living with him yet not together. Next year?

      Too many decisions in too short a time.

      ‘Can I decide later?’ She met his gaze, found mild curiosity not censure.

      ‘Of course. Speak up if you feel I’m rushing you.’

      Like the leader of a stampede. Not an opinion he’d take kindly to.

      She stared out of the window as the traffic crawled along, reliving the incident in the lobby. Ethan had been looking down when their fingers touched. Had he noticed she’d removed her ring?

      From the stories she’d heard, and the photos she’d seen, she’d formed a vague, admirable image of Louise’s successful brother—had had no interest in knowing anything more. The man at her side was flesh and blood, solid and real. She was learning to gauge the inflections in his voice, to interpret the messages in his expressive blue eyes. Her body involuntarily responded to him. The image had been far safer for her mental stability.

      Ethan held back when the solicitor greeted Alina