and his desk was clear. Ethan felt pumped at an achievement he determined would become more routine than not. He conceded that the new promotions, which would become official at midnight on Sunday, made it possible.
He stopped on the way home for handmade chocolates to celebrate. Trying to quell the rush of anticipation, he entered the apartment, silently chuckling at the sci-fi epic music coming from the speakers.
Alina was preparing dinner at the kitchen counter. His eyes drank in her brunette curls, her enticing curves—soon to be curvier. Alluring. Desirable. This attraction was unlike any he’d ever experienced. Because of the situation? Her condition? His unexpected paternity? None of them explained that initial gut-clench when the only knowledge he’d had of her was her name.
She continued working, oblivious to his presence. How near did he have to be before she sensed him?
She had. The moment he’d opened the front door. Trying to quell her quickening heartbeat and ignore the prickling at the back of her neck was a futile exercise. There was nothing to account for her sudden heat rush.
Darn hormones. Why pick this pregnancy to play up? The first time—she couldn’t prevent the comparisons surfacing—there’d been occasional morning sickness, a few cravings, and manageable backache in the last trimester. She’d been blissfully content, cherished, and pampered by...
She gripped the vegetable peeler till it stung, fought the tears threatening to spill.
His cologne seeped around her. Still no sound or greeting. Was he playing games, waiting for her to acknowledge him? She put down the peeler, pivoted.
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.
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