The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way

more by the man who was regarding her now as if she was all the treasures he’d ever dreamed of rolled into one than by her condition.

      Ethan’s gaze swung from the monitor to Alina and back. He didn’t know whether to holler out loud or cry. That indistinct wriggling blur was his niece or nephew—living proof that he hadn’t totally lost the two people he loved most. Five weeks ago unpredictable and unbelievable. Now an almost touchable actuality.

      In less than one of those rapid heartbeats he lost his heart. Utterly. Irrevocably. For ever. Our baby. Now he truly believed what he’d originally claimed for appearances’ sake. At that instant he became a father, silently vowing to become the kind of daddy his friend would have been.

      His interest in the technology vanished. He was filled with reverent awe, seeing life as it began. In six months this tiny creature would emerge as a living, breathing person. His child, his responsibility for life. He wondered how he’d ever believed he was as unemotional as his parents. His heart had swelled fit to burst.

      Alina brushed away tears he hadn’t realised he’d shed. Touched his cheek. A new softness shone in her beautiful eyes, curved in her smile. However deep she’d buried her maternal instincts, it wasn’t enough. The natural mother he suspected her to be was going to surface, no matter how hard she fought it.

      His mouth felt dry, his chest tight. His heartbeat powered up. Whether because of their baby or her it didn’t matter. From this moment they really were a family. The voice in his head was telling him to somehow keep it that way.

      ‘Okay, Mum and Dad, I’ve got the information I need.’

      Ethan blinked as the monitor clicked off. Over already? He wanted to watch longer, see more.

      ‘Check with the receptionist for your photos and DVD.’ The technician handed Alina a box of tissues. ‘Good luck. I might see you when you come in again.’

      Ethan took the tissues and began to wipe off the gel, desperate to be physically involved, not wanting to come down from his euphoria. He concentrated on her stomach, absurdly self-conscious after revealing a side of him few people had ever seen.

      Coward. He’d said thank you—a pathetic reward for the miracle she’d brought to him.

      Throwing the tissues in the bin, he turned to meet compassionate violet eyes. A deep yearning, alien to his normal awareness, flowed through him. Along with the desire to cherish and protect as long as he lived. He shook with its intensity.

      ‘Ethan, are you all right?’

      Her fingers rested on his arm. For her a friendly gesture. For him, much more.

      ‘Better than I’ve ever been.’

      He smoothed her top down and helped her from the bench. Kissed her tenderly until he ran out of breath, needing her gentleness, her sweetness. Her.

      ‘Let’s go home, darling.’

      * * *

      After an early lunch Ethan drove to his parents’ home alone, psyching himself up for the confrontation. He’d always been the mediator, acting as a buffer for others. Not any more. Today he was the activist.

      His parents’ judgemental nature along with their unachievably high standards had caused so many problems. He was convinced their agreement to Louise’s marriage had been motivated only by the idea of hosting a flash high society event. It was their interference that had motivated the newlyweds to move to Barcelona. Now they’d gone he had no one else to champion. Except the quiet beauty he’d left alone in their apartment, and the grandchild he might inform his parents was on the way.

      He walked round the house, growling in frustration. It was ridiculous that their offspring had to use the front door like guests once they’d left home, that he had to ring the bell even though they must know he’d arrived. His greeting to his father was polite, yet clipped, the reply mundane.

      ‘This must be important, for you to take time off from work. Is it something to do with the estate?’

      As expected, no welcome.

      ‘No.’

      He walked straight to the lounge. His mother sat in her chair, perfectly groomed. Just once he’d like to see her in casual clothes, with mussed-up hair. His thoughts flew to the heart-warming image of his wife in the blue chainstore outfit she’d worn at their first meeting.

      ‘Good afternoon, Mother. I won’t be stopping. I have an appointment.’

      To take my bride on a honeymoon I hope will bring us even closer than we’ve become.

      She frowned at his lack of physical greeting. He compared her barely touching air-kiss for Alina with the loving embrace he’d received from Jean when they’d met. Didn’t feel the slightest guilt.

      ‘Good afternoon, Ethan. Is there something wrong?

      His father was now seated in an armchair. There was no mention of that disastrous visit, nor the fact that there’d been no further contact until yesterday morning, when he’d phoned them. They’d never deign to make a conciliatory move, and he was only here for Alina’s sake.

      He took the settee, placing a long envelope on the coffee table.

      ‘I have something to tell you prior to an official announcement. If you don’t approve, that’s hard luck. It’s a done deed.’

      They both stiffened. He paused. This was for his sister, his friend. Their baby.

      ‘Alina and I were married yesterday evening.’

      ‘What?’ His father sprang up.

      ‘Sit down, Martin.’

      Sophia’s curt tone had its effect. He obeyed, glaring at his son. She continued, her censure radiating through the air.

      ‘Is this some sort of warped joke because you took umbrage at our concerns over her background? I know application forms need to be lodged a month before, so...’

      ‘It was done. We had a quiet wedding, with friends as witnesses.’

      His mother went rigid, unusually lost for words. It was his father who spoke.

      ‘Really, Ethan. We coped with immature dramas from your sister. Never expected any from you. You’ve always been practical and reasonable—’

      ‘Maybe too much so,’ Ethan cut in brusquely. ‘I lost precious time with Louise and Leon because you would not accept they were meant for each other. Time I’ll never get back now they’re gone.’

      Dismissing the protests that erupted from both of them, he leant forward, balanced his elbows on his knees and clenched his hands together.

      ‘I love Alina.’ Not a lie. It wasn’t the same as being in love. How could he not love someone who’d given him the most priceless gift he’d ever have? ‘And anyone who upsets or disrespects her will be out of my life. I don’t give a damn what people think or say. Accept it or not—she’s my wife, my priority.’

      He waited, quite prepared to walk out. The looks they exchanged didn’t faze him. He didn’t care what explanation they gave their social acquaintances for his hurried secret wedding. Their society image mattered only to them. Tragedy had taught him that there were far more important things in life.

      His mother finally found her voice. ‘How are we supposed to explain this rushed event to our friends?’

      All they cared about was how it would affect their image. He almost laughed out loud—couldn’t remember when he’d last heard genuine amusement from either of them. Alina had a quiet sense of humour, enjoyed quirky comedies, and encouraged him to see the fun in them too.

      ‘That’s not my concern.’ He flicked the envelope with his finger. ‘This is a copy of the notice that will be placed in the paper on Saturday, plus a list of friends and relatives whom I will inform later this week. I would prefer you to wait until then to tell anyone else. We’ll