The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way

She tried to pull away, found herself being ushered to their table and gently settled into her seat. The strong arm stayed around her, supportive, grounding.

      A moment later there were muffled words in a concerned tone, a deep reply. Deep as Ethan’s voice but clipped, disconnected, not like him at all. She did know that it was his fingers lifting her chin, and hazily wondered why they trembled.

      ‘Alina?’

      She blinked, saw his pale face, his brow creased in concern. She bent her head, unable to find words to explain.

      His hand dropped. ‘Let’s go home. We’ll talk there.’

      ‘No.’ Plaintive, even to her own ears.

      ‘We have to.’ Soft-spoken. Decisive.

      They drove home in silence. Alina counted cars as they passed, timed their stops at traffic lights—anything to keep from dwelling on the talk ahead. Could she feign a headache? Believable in the circumstances, but delaying the inevitable.

      If Ethan James wanted to talk, they’d talk—sooner rather than later.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ETHAN KEPT HER hand in his after locking the car, only letting go to allow her to enter the apartment first. How come she’d not only become used to that small intimacy but welcomed it? She dropped her bag onto the island, walked round to make hot drinks.

      ‘Would you like coffee?’ She reached for a bronze pod.

      ‘Make it a black pod. I need a strong kick.’ He was already walking towards the hall, discarding his jacket as he went.

      Good idea. She picked up her bag and headed for her room to change. Jeans and a casual top were more conducive to a serious discussion.

      In the few minutes it took her he’d returned, and their drinks were ready in the lounge.

      ‘Biscuits?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

      His lips twitched at the corners, just a tad. ‘Chocolate?’

      So he’d noticed the wrappers in the bin and her stash in the cupboard. Again she declined. Why the heck was she being so formal? Last night the atmosphere had been light and friendly. Today even better. Until that moment when the past had reasserted its claim on her.

      She sat in the corner of the settee, drawing her legs up tight when he chose one of the armchairs, putting extra space between them. She stared at the mug in her hands, dreading the words she might hear, fearing he might be annoyed if she couldn’t or wouldn’t answer.

      ‘We have to talk, Alina.’

      The sombre tone of his voice brought her head up. His eyes had the sharp intensity she remembered from when she’d taken over filling in the marriage application. As if reading her inner thoughts was the only thing that mattered at this moment.

      ‘This isn’t going to work the way we are now. I’ve never had a problem with women before, but now I’m second-guessing what to do. For our baby’s sake we have to convince everyone we’ve had a passionate affair.’

      ‘And I’m failing miserably. I’m sorry, Ethan. I don’t know how... There was only ever...I...’ The words wouldn’t come. She bit the inside of her lip, looked down at her white knuckles gripping the hot mug.

      His hollow laugh snapped her gaze back to his face.

      ‘I’m not doing much better, Alina. I never knew grief could be so overwhelming, so soul-draining. You brought some light into my dark world. Now you’re here—so sweet and beautiful, so vulnerable.’

      He leant forward, hands clasped between spread knees.

      ‘I can’t deny the physical attraction. Can’t fathom whether it’s linked with knowing you’re carrying Louise’s baby. Tonight—the music, dancing with you in my arms—I was in a new world. I frightened you, and I’m sorry—’

      ‘No. It wasn’t you,’ she cut in. ‘There’ve been so many first-for-a-long-times for me, it’s bewildering. I feel like I’ve been thrown back into mainstream city living without a guidebook.’

      She suddenly realised she was mimicking his stance, sharing his desire for their plan to succeed. Something shifted inside her, as if the extra tightening around her heart that had come when she’d heard about Louise and Leon had slipped a few notches. The old pain remained. She’d accepted only death would bring that to an end.

      ‘It’s only been four days. I didn’t expect to stay in Australia—much less with you.’ She smiled, watched as his eyes softened and his brow cleared. His answering smile lifted her heart. ‘I’m rusty in all the social niceties of sharing a home and...and things.’

      He shifted as if to stand, sank back. ‘I don’t have a good track record there. I’ve only had two live-in relationships, neither here, and neither lasting more than five months. Both confirmed my belief that I’m not cut out for domesticity. I’m too pragmatic—and, as one of them pointed out, I’ve no romance in my soul. Assuming I have a soul.’

      ‘That’s better for us, isn’t it?’ Although did she really want him to stop his gentle touches, his scorching looks? His kisses?

      ‘No.’ Sharp. Instant.

      He came to sit at the other end of the couch, folding one leg up, spreading one arm along the back. She wriggled into her corner and listened.

      ‘We need to create an illusion of instant attraction and overpowering passion. I’ve never been demonstrative with girlfriends in public. Little more than hand-holding and social greetings. So a good way to convince people our affair was different is to show affection in front of them.’

      ‘You mean kiss if someone’s watching?’

      ‘Alina, we’re implying that we had a short, tempestuous affair that resulted in your becoming pregnant. That you’re here with me now will tell everyone you mean more than any other woman I’ve dated. Which is true in the nicest way. Our limited knowledge of each other doesn’t matter—displaying our irresistible attraction does.’

      ‘So somewhere between how we’ve been and how Louise and Leon were?’ Not a hard task, considering the way she reacted to him each time they touched. As long as she kept her heart secure.

      ‘Definitely less blatant—though I envied them their intimacy. I can’t imagine having such a close bond with anyone. I’m aware I’ll have to change the way I think and act, make it credible to friends and family. It’s not only me who’ll be affected by our success.’

      She locked eyes with his. ‘The baby.’

      ‘Our baby. It’s essential my parents believe that. You have to be comfortable with me as your partner, alone and in company.’

      ‘I can.’ She heard the slight tremor. ‘I will be.’ Better. Stronger.

      Ethan slid his leg off the couch. ‘Come here.’

      That persuasive honey tone. Those compelling cobalt eyes.

      She sidled along until there was barely a hand’s length between them. His fingers lightly traced her cheek. His arm slid around her, loose yet secure.

      ‘Any time you feel uneasy, tell me.’

      His slow smile had her leaning in closer.

      ‘Any time you feel like taking the initiative, go right ahead.’

      He stroked her hair, laid her head on his shoulder and cradled her against his body. His heart beat strong and steady under her hand, an echo of hers. His voice, his cologne, everything about him was becoming familiar, safe. It was a feeling she refused to analyse.

      ‘We’ll keep to ourselves for a couple of weeks. When you’re ready I’d like to arrange dinner