by Paula Roe
Finn’s keen eyes took in her pinched expression. “Problem?”
She shrugged. “Just tired. Can we get out of here?”
“Sure.”
Finn took her elbow and skillfully guided them through the throng with breathtaking speed, then out the door.
Cool air hit her warm face, goose-bumping her skin.
“Wait here.” He stroked her arm. “I will organize our car.” As he strode over to the parking attendant hovering in the background, she sensed someone behind her.
“Just wanted to congratulate you,” Simon’s voice cut in.
“Thanks.” Ally glanced at Finn who was returning, now with a scowl as he spotted Simon. “Well, we must be going.”
“Sure.”
With a sigh of relief, Ally looped her arm through Finn’s and they began to move down the steps.
“Oh, geez, I’m an idiot!” Simon slapped his forehead. “Congratulations, mate.”
With a tempered sigh, Finn paused and turned. “For…?”
It was in that precise moment that Ally realized everything was about to crumble. She glanced backward and watched Simon’s slow, oily smile spread, an expression of nasty delight on his face.
For one gut-lurching second, she was above them all, looking down on the scene in horror. The sheer panic in her face magnified the significance of the moment.
“Man. Have I gone and put my foot in it?” Simon’s mouth stretched wider. “Sorry about that, Ally. Guess you were keeping the bundle of joy a surprise.” When he looked pointedly at her stomach she drew a protective hand across it, playing right into his game. “Still, no one would’ve guessed in that dress.” He looked up, right into Finn’s frozen face. “Well, enjoy fatherhood. Better you than me.”
Ally squeezed her eyes shut, eliminating Simon’s retreating back and wishing she could disappear just as quickly. She knew the instant Finn had figured it out—his arm stiffened from the blow. Then, more alarmingly, she felt his whole body grow rigid, as if ice had frozen in his veins.
“Ally?”
“What?” She trembled at the arctic voice, opening her eyes to a horrible unyielding expression on his face.
“You’re pregnant.” Those green eyes were full of complex emotion. Betrayal, disappointment. And white-hot accusation.
Damn him. “Don’t you dare judge me, Finn. Don’t you dare.”
“You’re pregnant.” His eyes grazed her waist then returned to her face. If a look could have burned, she’d be toast.
She tilted her chin up. “Yes.”
“To Simon.”
She recoiled. “No! It’s…” Oh, dammit. A sob hitched in her throat as her voice cracked. With a heavy sense of impending doom, she prayed for strength, swallowing her last shred of resistance. “It’s yours.”
Nothing could have prepared her for the utter disbelief on his face. Nothing could have cut her to the bone more.
Seconds seemed to pass by in a matter of hours, the complete and total silence echoing the shallow breath coming from his frozen countenance.
“I’m…going to be a father?” he said slowly, his voice shaking with discovery.
She nodded mutely.
He muffled a groan, dragging a hand over his eyes. Ally could only stand and wring her hands. What was he going to say? Do? The uncertainty spun her thoughts in a thousand different directions, all of them desperate and implausible.
The car pulled up then and in the next second he composed himself, his noble, proud features settling into controlled restraint.
She yanked open the door and crawled in, desperate to be alone with him, to explain. Yet Finn remained outside, rooted to the spot.
“Are you getting in?” Ally asked tentatively.
“No.”
“But—”
With a withering look he slammed the door, the force of the impact rattling the windows.
Sixteen
As though a thousand demons from his Viking past were hot on his heels, Finn stormed along the promenade that ran parallel to Coogee Beach. Stretching out, he took long, frustrated strides as the walking track sloped steeply upwards toward the cliffs, uncaring of the overgrown grass occasionally stabbing his legs or of the hectic pace he’d set.
The sea air whipped around him, the morning sun angrily beat down until sweat broke out on his brow. He squinted as his eyes watered.
And still he could see Ally’s face, hear those two words confirming that unbelievable revelation.
A baby. Ally’s baby.
His baby.
In his mind, he pictured her, her belly growing big and round with child. Her body blossoming, swelling with the evidence of their passion and love.
The rage in him grew, feeding and festering until his head spun. Shards of pain stabbed behind his eyes, blinding.
His baby.
Instead of fading out, the words reverberated in his head, growing louder with every cheerful seagull call. With every low whoosh of the surf against the rocks below.
The air was suddenly sucked from his lungs as though someone had turned on a giant vacuum. With a choke, Finn squeezed his eyes shut as pain sliced the back of his head.
His body throbbed from lack of air and he took a deep breath, then another, trying to force control through the pain. Fuzzy snapshots of memory raced past—Ally furious and accusing, in tears. Him yelling straight back, uncaring.
…baby….
It was like clawing his way out of a dream, only to find that he’d been awake the whole time. Bits and pieces came flashing back indiscriminately: their hasty marriage at that corny Las Vegas chapel, her love of chocolate fudge cake. Her disastrous but hilarious attempt to cook him a traditional Danish meal.
I need to think.
The images abruptly snapped.
He gasped for breath, feeling the trickle of sweat at the back of his neck, the throbbing ache flooding into every muscle. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the sharp insistent ringing in his ears.
With a deep shuddering breath he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“You okay, mate?” a passing male voice drifted in.
He didn’t look up. “Yeah. Thanks.”
You’re losing it. He massaged the back of his neck, trying to force back a steadily pounding headache. Through sheer force of will he shoved unwelcome images from his head and instead focused on his breathing, taking steady, slow lungfuls of air.
After another five minutes he felt calm enough to think.
He remembered. Not everything, not the codicil. But enough to make sense of who he had been and how he was so different now.
He was going to be a father.
Fear inched its way across his shoulders, slid down his spine. What kind of father would he be? Like his dad, an obsessed workaholic who barely had time for his wife, let alone his son? Like his former self?
Since when have you complained about your lot in life? Nikolai’s booming voice of logic echoed in his brain. You love your work and the lifestyle it gives you.
No. It wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like that.
Yet he couldn’t banish the pictures from his head—those memories, his father’s last words, his friends’ and colleagues’ accounts of his past life.
Ally’s cold reaction to his arrival.
Everything came back to her, despite his determined attempts to rationalize and explain away his attraction. Even without steady income, even pregnant, Ally was so determined not to need anyone. Least of all him.
But there was no way he could pretend this didn’t change everything.
He continued along the path, tearing off a broken stalk of pampas grass as he strode past, swishing it against his thigh like a riding crop.
She needed this money now, more than anything. Which meant now, more than ever, he had to find that codicil.
A bend in the track forced him to grind to a halt. As though a lightning bolt had cleaved the earth centuries ago, the land dropped off abruptly into the bl
ue expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The waves pounded onto the rocky outcrops below, spouting foam and sea spray. The sun rained down, the fires of his own private hell.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring out to sea with the tiny itchy prickles straining, those familiar ants crawling over his skin. He only knew that when he finally acknowledged the breeze cooling his sweaty skin, the sun was well and truly high in the sky.
And with the sting of blood in his veins pounding with loss and regret that no amount of concentration could lessen, anger slowly gave way to purpose.
With his jaw set tighter than an overpumped football, he spun and headed back.
Seventeen
Standing a block from her building after picking up the morning paper, Ally spotted Finn. She watched him cut a tall, determined figure through the late-morning throng on Coogee Bay Road, striding as if he’d got her in the crosshairs and had honed right on in, completely focused on his quarry. She roped in her own nervousness, gathering it around like a protective cloak.
You need to keep a level head if you want any chance of staying in control.
Finally he stopped in front of her, the sharp planes of his face emphasizing the steely glint in his eyes.
“The baby is mine.”
It wasn’t a question. Ally nodded curtly. “Yes.”
“Did I know about it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ally glanced around. “Not here.” She turned and headed back to the apartment, not waiting to see if he followed.
When they were finally alone, Ally watched Finn with a wary eye.
She’d never seen him grapple so hard for control, despite all their passionate arguments. He couldn’t keep still, pacing up and down, back and forth, back and forth, until he finally ended up at the patio. Drawing the doors open, he took a long, deep breath, drinking in the fresh air as if he’d been suffocating.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally asked, his back still to her.
“What purpose would it have served?”
He spun, sudden fury tightening his jaw. “What about my right to know? Were you ever going to tell me? Or are you really that selfish?”
Pain of the past, fragmented memories, tore and twisted, drawing blood.
“Selfish? I didn’t know I was pregnant until I came home. I did think about telling you, a million times a day. But you never wanted children. What would you have done in my place?”
“Don’t you put this on me, Ally.”
“Well it is on you! You’d always said the company was a major part of your life, but I didn’t realize how major until it was too late.” I tried to hate the company but settled for a flesh-and-blood man instead. “You said quite clearly ‘I don’t want children.’ I knew you’d never budge. End of story.”
There was tension in the sudden stillness. Ally watched him clench and unclench his fists until his knuckles turned white.
The expression on his face was ominous, the rumbling gathering of imminent storm clouds. Tightly coiled emotion swept his body as if someone had just primed him and now he was ready to fire.
Ally crossed her arms and waited.
“That baby needs a father,” he stated.
Of all the things to say, it was the least she expected. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is the twenty-first century. There’s nothing wrong with being a single parent.”
“You misunderstand me, Ally.” His eyes narrowed. “I will not sit by and let your life fall to pieces.”
Outrage blurred her vision. “Oh, and you think you know how to fix it, do you? It’s my life and I’m not giving this baby up. What kind of person do you think I am?”
“For a smart woman, you can be extremely thick sometimes. There will be no divorce.”
Total shock rendered her argument to a wordless splutter.
“What?” Finn smiled thinly, “Finally lost for words?”
She breathed deeply, trying to cut off the simultaneous hope and dread. “Well, here’s one. No.”
“You forget you have nothing,” he murmured.
“And you forget what we did to each other! If, by some smidgen of insanity I agreed, what makes you think this time would be any different? I’m not leaving and you don’t belong here,” she reminded him bluntly. “Your home is in Denmark and I will not be your reason for staying.”
“You can’t get rid of me. If you try, I will fight you. And I’ll win.”
With that one vow, Ally was engulfed in a wave that left her floundering in the aftermath. It was more than a physical pain, it was a deep, glancing blow to her soul. All the memories, all of Finn’s past traits that she’d thought were finally gone, were reflected clearly on his face, in every muscle of his rigid stance. The cold depths in his eyes, the stubborn challenge of his tight jaw. It was a don’t-mess-with-me look that she knew all too well. Her stomach bottomed out.
“We entered into this agreement knowing it was temporary,” she finally said.
“I did not know all the facts,” he pointedly reminded her. “If you think I will walk out on my responsibilities—”
“It’s a child, Finn, not just a responsibility. And, yes, I fully expect you to honor your agreement and leave when this is over. I don’t want anything more from you than what we agreed on.”
The leashed tension on his face gave way to something…sad. Something painful and betrayed. As if she’d delivered a swift slap of reality. The look of self-directed anger was tightly controlled as he swept his jaw with his palm.
Then she blinked and he was back to being the resolute, stubborn Finn of old.
It fired her determination even more.
“I’m not broken, Finn, so stop trying to fix me.” With adrenaline flushing her cheeks she marched right up to him, put her hands on her hips and thrust her chin out. “Contrary to what you think, I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”
“It is my child, too. Don’t forget that.”
“Believe me, there’s been times I’ve wished I could!”
Fury blazed from his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you think I enjoyed throwing away a marriage? That I wanted us to break up? That I didn’t try every second of every damn day to make it work? But I couldn’t, Finn. I couldn’t try anymore. We broke up, I came home, then discovered I was pregnant. But you had a new girlfriend. A new life. There was no way I would shove either of us back into that mess. And this child is better off with one loving parent than two miserable ones.”
Like two wary animals they faced each other off, one bristling and indignant, one guarded and stubborn, until something passed between them: a look, a feeling from the past that wasn’t quite dead. Something primal and deep.
“I’m finished with this,” she announced, impatiently shoving her hair back. “You’re here to get your memory back, not make new ones.”
He grabbed her chin and forced her eyes to his. “Stop running away.”
“And stop assuming I need your help.” She yanked away from his grip.
“I’m not the same person I was. I’ve changed.”
Enough to stay? She refused to voice that cursed question aloud. It brought back too many heartbreaks, too many buried arguments and Lord knew, she didn’t want to argue anymore.
The silence suddenly became heavy with unsaid words and denied attraction, like a dark storm cloud swollen with rain.
“I think,” he murmured, “you’re just as determined to push me away as I am to help you. You have no steady income. No place to raise a child—a small apartment doesn’t compare to a proper house. And yet you still resist my offer. Why?”
Because when you finally remember, I’ll lose you all over again.
His eyes softened as if reading her thoughts. “Elskat. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“You’ve said that before.”
He took a step forward, almost as if he wanted to reach out and hold her, but stopped abruptly, unsure of
her response.
“I can’t compete with your company, Finn. Can’t you see we’d only end up hating each other?” Again, she added silently. Dropping her hand to her stomach, she took a deep breath. “I ran once. How do you know I won’t run again?”
She thought she saw a flash of emotion cross those world-weary planes of his face—part pain, part regret. The Finn she’d known was strictly no regrets. But what about this man standing across from her? She could read the doubt in his face, feel it in the way the silence lengthened between them.
“I don’t want you to promise something you can’t give,” she finally said, turning toward the kitchen.
“I can give you money—”
“Especially money.”
He followed her, pausing in the doorway. “Dammit, Ally, it is my child. Why won’t you let me help you?”
“Because I don’t want it!” She slammed two coffee cups onto the countertop with a crack and whirled to face him.
“Because your pride won’t allow it.” She took a step back into the countertop as he came at her slowly, deliberately. “Where’s your pride when you’re hungry, with a mountain of bills to pay? Babies aren’t cheap, you know. There’s medical expenses, insurance, day-to-day living. Cots and diapers and clean sheets—”
“Stop it!”
He grabbed her shoulders, almost as if he meant to shake some sense into her.
“I don’t want your help!” She shook herself free with a jerk. “I’ve been looking after myself since I was ten. I don’t need someone else to take control.”
“This isn’t about me needing control. Do not test my patience.” The look in those emerald-green depths was dangerous, full of warning and hot anger. “You avoid my questions, lie to me—”
“Don’t analyze me, Finn. I don’t lie.”
“But you do leave out details. The baby. Your parents. And then there’s the real reason why you left our marriage.”
Fear clogged her throat, making her breath come out raspy until she managed to gain control. “I told you. We’ve been over this.”