Bound by the Unborn Baby by Bella Bucannon

and a plate of biscuits into the lounge. There was nothing hurried in her movements—hadn’t been from the moment they met. Except when he’d challenged her about her husband and her child.
    His eyes did a slow full-body scan, from the short wavy hair framing her pretty face down to the sleek white blouse, over her still flat abdomen, over slender shapely hips, ending at dainty bare feet. His own body enjoyed every second of the journey.
    Quiet and unassuming, she’d have been overshadowed by the vibrant Spanish women he’d chatted up on his visits. Or would she? She disturbed him in a sensual way, new and puzzling, and definitely unwanted in their current circumstances.
    ‘Ethan? You still there?’
    The voice in his ear jolted him out of his daydream. Reality ruled.
    He gave due praise to his colleague for an urgent problem solved and ended the call. Dropping his mobile by the files on the table, he took an appreciative drink of the strong adrenaline-reviving coffee.
    ‘Thanks for this.’ The object of his distracting thoughts was now curled up in one of the lounge chairs with a notebook and pen, completely oblivious to the effect she had on him.
    ‘What’s the title of the latest?’
    Alina frowned.
    He indicated her notebook. ‘List?’
    ‘Ah... Personal items. Clothes. What I have won’t do for living your lifestyle.’
    Her voice held an audible hint of resignation that sparked a twinge of sympathy. He understood her reluctance, but couldn’t change his stance. He was taking the only course of action he’d be able to live with, irrespective of personal preferences or consequences. Those must be considered collateral damage.
    ‘I’ve ordered a credit card for you.’ He held up his hand to stop her interjecting. ‘No argument. Having you here is my decision, so I’ll cover any costs you incur because you’re living with me.’
    ‘I have money.’
    Enticingly stubborn, eyes fiercely defiant, mouth so tantalisingly kissable...
    He’d eventually win—just not easily. Every step was a walk in a minefield and they’d hardly entered the paddock. Knowing women as he did, he figured once she began to shop for her growing figure and new social commitments she’d realise he was right.
    ‘Compromise? Accept the card. Use it at your own discretion.’
    Her gaze shifted over his shoulder to the photos on the bookshelf. Leon and Louise on their wedding day. With him at a social event. Her eyes softened. She played it down but she’d cared for them too.
    He watched neat white teeth bite into a chocolate-covered biscuit, inexplicably imagined them nibbling on his neck. Selecting a plain shortbread, he stretched his legs and crossed his ankles. Wondered what it was about her he found so fascinating.
    ‘Compromise it is. I have final say,’ she stated with determination, causing him to chuckle out loud. ‘Is there a gym in the building? Or nearby. Until I find a job I’ll—’
    She stopped as if stunned when his body jerked forward. Coffee dregs splashed onto the table. His eyes narrowed.
    A job ? She wanted to work ? Hell! He stood, drew in a ragged breath and quelled his exasperation.
    ‘Wait.’
    He strode to the kitchen, brought back a cloth and mopped up the mess. She watched him warily. How could he explain his world to a woman who’d depended only on herself for so long?
    Sitting by her side, he took her hand in his, felt her resistance. Held on. ‘In the social circles I grew up in few women worked. There was always a hint of condescension when my parents spoke of those who did—even those with a profession. My contemporaries are a mixture, mostly by choice. I make no judgement.’
    He cupped and tilted her jaw until their eyes met.
    ‘We are different. You’ve come to me two months pregnant, with limited work skills. Uh-uh.’ He quickly placed his thumb over her lips as she stiffened. ‘That was not an insult, merely a statement of fact. I admire the diverse ways you’ve supported yourself,