eyes, a familiar guilt consumed Ella. Before she could relent—as she always did—she said, “Keira, there’s no reason why the baby can’t go with you. I’m sure you’ll find people in Africa will have babies.”
The tears swelled into big, shiny drops. “What if the baby becomes ill? Or dies? Ella, it’s not as if this is a five-star beach resort. This is aid work in a poverty-stricken part of Africa.”
Refusing to be drawn into her sister’s dramatics, Ella leaned forward and tore a tissue from the box on the glass coffee table in front of the sofa, then passed it to Keira.
“Do you even know what kind of infrastructure exists? You could ask whether a baby would be safe.” But Ella suspected she was fighting a losing battle when Keira failed to answer. She tried again. “If it’s so unsafe, then what about your own health? Your safety? Have you and Dmitri thought this through? Do you really want to be living in a war zone?”
“It’s not a war zone,” Keira denied hotly. The tears had miraculously evaporated without a dab from the tissue that drifted to the carpet. “Credit me with some sense. It’s Malawi. The country is stable—the people are friendly. It’s poverty and illiteracy that we will be fighting.”
So much for Keira’s claim that it would be impossible to take a child there. But Ella knew she’d lost the battle; Keira had already made up her mind—the baby was not going with her.
“So what will happen to the baby?”
Silence.
Keira’s eyes turned pleading, just like those of Patches, the beloved spaniel from their childhood.
“No! It is not staying with me.” Ella made it a statement. A firm statement. The kind she used when delivering an ultimatum to opposing counsel.
Keira opened her mouth.
The baby chose that moment to kick.
Ella squeezed her eyes shut and suppressed a gasp at the hard jab against her ribs. Perspiration pricked at her forehead. She rubbed her side.
Thrusting the pain away, she opened her eyes and said to her sister, “Have you spoken to Jo about your new plans?” Ella suspected Jo Wells, the social worker who had been involved in helping arrange the paperwork side of the adoption for Keira and Dmitri, would be as floored as she was by Keira’s change of heart.
“Dmitri is right. We’re too young to become parents,” Keira said, sidestepping Ella’s question. “We haven’t even been married a year.”
Drawing a deep breath, Ella said slowly, “A bit late to come to the conclusion that you’re not ready to be parents.”
Nine months too late to be precise.
Ella patted her own swollen stomach and watched mercilessly as Keira flushed.
“This baby is due next week. All your life you wanted to get married, start a family… that’s why you did an early childcare course.” It was why Ella was now stuck across the sofa from her sister like a stranded whale with a bulging belly. “How can you walk away from your child now?”
She had a nasty suspicion that she knew what—or rather, who—was behind the change of heart. Dmitri’s big brother. Yevgeny Volkovoy.
Bossy big brother. Billionaire. Bigot.
Ella couldn’t stand the man. He’d been furious to discover that Dmitri had gotten married without his say-so. He’d caused poor Keira endless tears with his terrifying tirades. Only by signing a post-nuptial agreement that allowed Keira the barest of maintenance in the case of divorce, and skewed everything in favor of the Volkovoy dynasty had Keira escaped his ire. Ella’d had a fit when she’d learned about the contract—and her alarm had grown when she read the terms. But by then it had been too late. The marriage was a done deal.
And Keira hadn’t asked her for her expertise… or her help.
Of course, Yevgeny hadn’t been in favor of the baby plan, either. Ella had known from the moment he’d switched to Russian. Dmitri had gone bright red—clearly he’d been less happy with Big Brother’s opinions.
Now it sounded like Big Brother had finally gotten his way and managed to persuade Dmitri that he wasn’t ready to become a parent.
Shifting again to ease her body’s increasing discomfort, Ella tried to stem the emotions that were swirling around inside her. Disbelief. Confusion. The beginnings of anger. None of this cocktail of emotions could be good for the baby. And, even though Ella had never had any intentions of having her own child, she’d taken great care of this one. She’d eaten well—going to great lengths to cut out her four-cups-a-day coffee habit—she’d even shortened her workday and made certain she’d been in bed by ten o’clock each night. She’d even taught herself to meditate so that the baby wouldn’t be contaminated by her stressful workday thoughts.
All because she’d wanted to make sure the baby was perfect. Her gift to Keira.
A gift Keira was now returning. Unborn, rather than unwrapped.
How did one return a baby, for heaven’s sake? A baby that was a week away from becoming a live person?
Which brought Ella to…
“You’re not leaving for Africa before the baby is born.” She made it a statement. “There will be decisions that have to be made before you go.”
Panic turned Keira’s eyes opaque. “No! I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I can’t handle those decisions. We’ve already booked our tickets. You’ll need to make the arrangements.”
“Me?” Drawing a deep shuddering breath, Ella went cold. “Keira, this is a baby we’re talking about—you can’t just walk away.”
Her sister’s gaze dropped pointedly to Ella’s very round stomach. “You’re still the legal mother—the adoption doesn’t kick in until twelve days after the baby’s born. You know that, Ella. Because you told me so yourself.”
Of course she knew it. Knowing stuff like that was part of her job as one of the most respected family lawyers in Auckland. But the knowledge was only just starting to sink in that Keira was planning to leave her holding the baby!
“Oh, no!” Shaking her head, Ella said emphatically, “The only reason I lent you my body was so that you could have the baby you always dreamed of having. This is your dream, Keira. Your baby.” My nightmare. Then, in case it hadn’t sunk in, she added pointedly, “Yours and Dmitri’s.”
“It’s your egg.”
“Only because you can’t—” Ella bit off the words she’d been about to utter.
Too late.
Keira had gone white.
Driven by remorse, Ella propelled her colossal self from the sofa and reached for Keira. Her sister was as stiff as a wooden block in her arms. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s
