The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way

touch?’ The connection for the wireless mouse was already in the port.

      ‘I’ve always used a mouse. I’ll have to learn to touch.’

      Learn to touch him?

      His chest tightened. He obviously hadn’t listened to his own pep talk.

      She quickly bent forward and began to type in the password; her hair only partially covering her reddening skin. He wasn’t fooled by the action, and surmised she’d had the same thought.

      ‘Why “bluesheen”?’ The catch in her voice spoke volumes.

      ‘Came out of the air.’ She’d been wearing blue the day they met. ‘Easily changed.’

      ‘I love it. What are all these icons for?’

      Her eyes shone with excitement, heightening his own pleasure.

      ‘Finding out is part of the fun. I’ve added the internet, an email account and cloud backup.’ He opened the notebook. ‘All the passwords are written in here, plus relevant names with phone numbers—including my IT guy, who set it up. He’s offered to give you one-on-one lessons if you like. I’m not too bad—he’s brilliant.’

      ‘Why? You know I won’t be staying, so why are you doing this?’

      He shrugged. ‘Don’t argue—just accept it. You can enrol for online courses...there’s plenty to choose from.’ He lightened the mood by joking. ‘Imagine all the lists you’ll be able to create. And you know you’ll enjoy finding recipes.’

      ‘You may not think so when you have to eat my weird concoctions.’ She smiled back.

      ‘I’ll take my chances.’

      His mobile rang. Bad timing. She was more at ease with him now than she’d ever been. Muttering a light curse, he wrenched the offending instrument out of his pocket, checked the caller. With a grimace he stood up.

      ‘I have to take this. Do you have dinner planned?’

      ‘Yes, but not started.’

      ‘Save it for tomorrow. I’ll book somewhere quiet where we can talk.’ He got to the end of the lounge and glanced back, his dazzling smile sending heatwaves to every region of her body.

      ‘You really do look exquisite, Alina.’

      Another genuine compliment that gave her confidence another boost. It was hard to believe he’d bought her such a thoughtful gift she’d use in so many ways. The expense hardly registered with him. The time and effort he’d taken meant so much more.

      Shutting down the laptop, she watched each process avidly, wanting to take in every little detail before carefully closing the lid. When she packed everything into the bag she found a charger and a set-up manual.

      She’d intended to try shopping again tomorrow—now she’d rather stay home and browse. Anything she didn’t understand would go on a list to be shown to Ethan. Although at least one session with his IT specialist was a must.

      After putting her embroidery into a craft bag, she went to her room to give her minimal make-up a light touch-up.

      As she walked along the hall the muffled mingling of running water with what sounded like a mistuned radio came through his door. Curiosity made her stop and press an ear to the wood. The slightly off-key singing persisted, too indistinct for her to recognise the vaguely familiar song.

      The shower stopped. She scurried away, her cheeks burning. If he caught her would he be angry or amused?

      She couldn’t get that tune out of her head...couldn’t remember the title. Couldn’t ask him.

      * * *

      For Alina the family-owned restaurant with its discreet booth tables was ideal. She hadn’t asked the name of the suburb; that would be making it a memory for keeping. Though, perversely, she knew she’d never forget the tasty meal, the restful music from the live band...her attentive escort.

      Couples were moving on to the small dance floor and she watched them with envy. She had once known how it felt to be held tenderly, barely moving in a traditional lovers’ slow shuffle. Without warning, images of all the women Ethan might have entertained here broke into her daydream. Stunning. Polished. Fashion connoisseurs who’d dance faultlessly.

      ‘Hey.’ His deep voice cut through her thoughts and she turned to meet his amused gaze. ‘You’re very pensive. Care to share?’

      Not in a million years. The predictable warmth stole up her neck. ‘Just enjoying the music. The meal was delicious. Is this a favourite haunt of yours?’

      ‘A friend brought me here last year. I kept it in mind, waiting for a special occasion.’ He put his hand invitingly, palm up, on the table. ‘Never found one until today.’

      Mesmerised by his incredible dark blue eyes, she laid her hand in his. He began to stroke her knuckles with his thumb. She dismissed the danger signals in her head. Her skin tingled from his touch. Her throat dried up, and liquid wasn’t the solution.

      Had she been so sensitive to male contact before? Had her hormones gone this crazy ten years ago? Those memories were locked away, never, ever to be revisited.

      Ethan had seen her wistful expression as she watched the couples moving around the floor, her body swaying in time to the music. She was in another world. A long-lost world? He wanted her in the here and now, totally focused on them.

      She’d provoked an acute rush of satisfaction when she’d given him her hand. His heartbeat had spiked, unaccustomed yearning snaking through him. The eons-old urge of man to protect his child? Or primitive gratification that its mother trusted him to safeguard them both?

      ‘Dance with me, Alina.’

      She glanced across the room, shook her head. ‘I’ll embarrass you. I only do modern stuff with no touching. Nothing like this.’ She gestured towards the dancers. ‘They are so graceful.’

      ‘No touching ever?’ His eyebrows rose in disbelief. ‘Or only since...?’ He left his question unfinished, didn’t need a reply.

      She tried to free her hand, merely succeeded in twisting it so that his thumb pressed into her palm. Stopped resisting when he resumed his slow caress. Was he playing fair? Touching and kissing hadn’t been mentioned when they’d first made their agreement. There’d been no reason in that emotionless civil conversation.

      ‘You’re denying something you really want, Alina. Trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.’

      Cautious eagerness dawned in her sceptical eyes. ‘Your toes might regret it if I do.’

      He laughed, walked round the table without letting her go. ‘Let’s find out.’

      Drawing her to her feet, he led her onto the dance floor. He placed her left hand on his shoulder, his right hand on her waist, then clasped her free hand in his, over his heart. Each movement was slow, deliberate. Non-threatening to her peace of mind.

      ‘Look at me, Alina.’

      Alina did.

      ‘Trust me.’

      She did.

      ‘Let me guide you.’

      He held her firmly, murmured in her ear and directed her steps with his thighs. His breath tickled her earlobe, his cologne filled her nostrils. Heat radiated from his touch as he compensated for her initial stumbling. She let her muscles go loose, giving him full control of her movements.

      They glided round the room as if floating on air. Her eyelids fluttered. The music combined with the man to create an ethereal realm she wished she could stay in for ever. No more sorrow. No more loneliness. She gave a soft sigh, glanced up—into a searing wave of cobalt desire.

      Their feet stopped moving; their bodies swayed in time with the rhythm of the music. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, yet she