Her lungs seized up. Her mouth dried. She sucked in her cheeks and swallowed, trying unsuccessfully to form moisture. Ethan stood there, gazing at her as if she were priceless, unique. When he walked round the island, smiling at her, she couldn’t have moved if someone had tossed a grenade.
‘You were so engrossed I didn’t want to disturb you.’ He cupped her chin, restarting her lungs in a short sharp gasp. He drew her to him as if their future was limitless and she leant into him, wanting to be closer. Wanting whatever he was offering.
He kissed her lightly, then deeper when her lips moved under his. When they parted of their own accord he accepted the tacit invitation. The tip of his tongue found hers. Heat flooded every cell. She tasted a hint of wine, coffee, tightened her hold on his neck, hungry for more.
Her stomach lurched. She wrenched free, clapping her hand over her mouth. Holding an arm across her belly, she bent double, trying not to throw up.
‘Alina, what’s wrong?’
The anxiety in his tone penetrated her brain. The support of his strong arms steadied her.
‘Alina?’
The nausea hit again. Breaking free, she stumbled to the bathroom, crumpled beside the toilet bowl and dry-retched repeatedly. Didn’t have time to worry about privacy.
WATER SPLASHED IN the basin and then Ethan was kneeling beside her, offering a damp cloth. She pressed it to her skin, letting the coolness soothe the heat from her humiliation. He’d kissed her and she’d practically thrown up on him.
Why? She’d eaten nothing, done nothing to trigger it. She shivered, couldn’t stop, couldn’t stem the shame churning in her belly.
‘Alina?’
She looked up into blue eyes dark with concern. For the child? A tiny pang of regret hit her heart.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan—so sorry. I’ve no idea what triggered that.’
He gently removed the cloth, tossed it into the sink, then cradled her to his chest.
‘Hey, I’ve got friends with children. Over the years I’ve heard plenty of stories about so-called morning sickness. Including the fact that it should be named any-time-anywhere-for-no-apparent-reason sickness. Feeling better?’
She touched the stubble on his chin, managed a rueful half-smile. ‘I think so.’
He helped her up, waited until she’d rinsed her mouth, then aided her walk back to the lounge. Sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
‘Do you want some chocolate to take away the taste? I brought a box home.’
‘Peppermint tea with plain biscuits will be more settling. I can get them.’
‘You stay put. You’re sure you’re all right?’
For his sake she nodded, forcing a smile.
His eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t convinced. ‘My book contains a whole chapter on morning sickness, and its triggers. I think I’d better reread it.’
She put her hand on his thigh. ‘Thank you for...for being there.’
‘Always.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Ethan went to the kitchen, turned on the kettle and sank against the bench, taut hands rubbing his face. He’d had to fight for composure in the bathroom; he still shook inside.
Seeing her sickly pallor as she’d hunched over the toilet had scared the hell out of him. Hearing the rasp in her voice had affected him in a way nothing had before. Because he’d feared for their baby? Or because Alina had been hurting? Both had ripped him apart.
On his return, he felt the taut knot in his gut ease at the tinge of colour in her cheeks. He gave her the tea and biscuits, scrutinised her as he drank his tea, the same flavour. If he had to he’d make herb tea his regular drink at home. Just in case.
‘I feel better. Thank you.’ She started to rise.
He stopped her, catching hold of her arm. ‘You’re sure?’
Her smile was steadier. ‘I’m fine.’
Alina went to the kitchen, where the salad she’d been preparing waited, not realising he was behind her until he spoke.
‘What can I do to help?’
Help? He hadn’t offered before. She’d never been sick before. ‘I can manage. You go do whatever you had planned.’
He hesitated, his cobalt eyes gleaming with an emotion she didn’t dare try to decipher. The new upheaval in her abdomen had nothing to do with her being pregnant.
‘Go. I can handle kebabs and salad.’
Why did it take so much effort to drag her eyes from him? She forced herself to concentrate on the half-finished carrot.
‘I’ll call you when it’s ready.’
The grunt he made was unintelligible and utterly male. It tickled the edge of her memory. Was quickly relegated to the clouds, where it belonged. She sneaked a peek as he left, wished she hadn’t.
His grey shirt was moulded to muscles toned to perfection from swimming and working out. Her gaze was drawn down past his trim waist to firm buttocks that flexed with each step. Her breath quickened. This was crazy. She was checking him out like a teenager.
Her knees shook. She flattened her hands on the benchtop for support, barely aware of the peeler handle digging into her palm. She craved ice-cold water, cursed the heat flooding her body. Daren’t risk walking to the tap.
He spun round, catching her off guard. ‘By the way...’ His mouth stayed open. His eyes widened. He grinned—a conspiratorial I-know-what-you’re-thinking grin. Moved slowly towards her, holding her spellbound with captivating blue eyes.
The music from the speakers reached a dramatic crescendo, heightening the atmosphere. It had hardly registered until then. Now it filled the space between them. The width of the room. The breadth of the kitchen island. The length of his arm.
She faced him, her brain in a quandary as warnings of danger sparred with reminders of his kisses. He halted at that arm’s distance, his eyes now sombre, his features composed. A façade. She noted his rigid stance, the way he’d fisted his hands.
‘Are you game to try again?’
She heard the caution in his voice. The kiss? He’d initiated it; she was the one who’d allowed it to become more intimate. This time there’d be no intoxicating flavour of wine or coffee. She guessed he’d used mouthwash, had seen him drink peppermint tea. Just in case.
Until Tuesday’s highly emotional embrace in the pool his kisses had been mostly tender—a gentle way of gradually familiarising her with his touch. Their intimate kiss, though interrupted,
