Expecting His Love-Child

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Expecting His Love-Child Page 13

by Carol Marinelli


  ‘THE MALDIVES, perhaps…?’ Katina suggested, handing Levander a thick brochure.

  He gave it barely a glance, glancing down at his watch and clearly itching to get back to work. ‘Any preference, Millie?’

  ‘I don’t know…’ Millie mumbled, hating that they were back. Her suntan was fading only marginally more slowly than her hopes for the future she had been so full of on the island—hopes that had convinced her to say yes to the wedding.

  Back in the real world—back where clocks ticked and people demanded and schedules dictated—she wasn’t quite so sure they could make it. Wasn’t quite so sure that a baby, that sex, was going to be enough to see them through.

  ‘We’ll have to go to London and see my family—they’ll want to meet you.’

  ‘They will meet me at the wedding,’ Levander answered easily. But, seeing her worried face, he gave a little frown. ‘There is no problem—I will pay for them to come out, absolutely.’

  ‘It’s not the money,’ Millie said, blushing as Katina coolly listened on. ‘They won’t be able to come to Australia even if they could afford it. Austin could never go on a plane—it would be too distressing for him. Mum and Dad have enough trouble getting him into a car—he hates anything like that.’

  ‘Who’s Austin?’ Katina asked pen poised.

  ‘Millie’s brother.’

  ‘And he doesn’t like to travel?’

  God, she hated this—hated having to explain herself to strangers. Hated that they’d been back in Melbourne only a few days and they were already in their second meeting.

  A meeting to arrange their wedding.

  Somehow, the fact that he could never love her had made her decision easier.

  No more pretending that in time love might grow. No more kidding herself that he wanted her for any other reason than the baby they had made.

  And even if her heart said she was marrying for all the wrong reasons, on the flipside it told her she was marrying for the right ones.

  She loved Levander—loved him enough to give him the security he craved for his child.

  Loved their baby enough to give it one home.

  ‘Would you prefer we marry in London?’ Levander offered. Katina’s lips pursed, but Millie shook her head, thinking of the pressure on her family, the nightmare of her mum attempting to socialise with the Kolovskys.

  ‘I think here might be better.’

  ‘Then we will marry here and go to London for the honeymoon,’ Levander suggested. And even though it made perfect sense—even though he had offered her the choice—not for the first time she felt railroaded, as if the Kolovskys had got their way once again.

  ‘I just don’t see why it has to be so soon,’ Millie attempted again.

  ‘It is not so soon,’ Levander said dismissively. ‘In Russia, a marriage normally happens quickly—between one and three months after the engagement is announced. And given you are already five months pregnant…surely it is better we marry quickly? Get it over with…’

  He made it sound like a trip to the dentist.

  ‘The Kolovskys calendar is full for the next thee months,’ Katina explained, a little less patiently than she had the last ten times. ‘And anyway, if we leave it much longer you’re going to have rather a job getting into the dress.’

  Another thing she hadn’t thought about.

  ‘Do you have any brochures? I don’t know…’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘So I can get an idea of what I want…’

  ‘An idea of what you want?’ Katina stared at her in bemusement.

  ‘For my dress.’

  ‘Millie—you’re marrying Levander. Did you really think we’d be sending you down to the local bridal shop? Your dress is already taken care off. Nina herself is going to come and do the final fittings. Right.’ Shuffling her notes, Katina stood up. ‘Have a think about your honeymoon and let me know tomorrow…’

  ‘Final fittings?’ Millie turned on Levander the second they were alone. ‘I wasn’t wrong that night—I actually thought I was being ridiculous, but my dress is already chosen—already hanging there half made, waiting for a bride to step into it.’

  ‘Of course.’ Levander looked at her as if she were completely mad. ‘There are probably fifty gowns there—and you will get the best one, naturally. Now, if that is all, then I should get back to work.’

  Even though her mind was abuzz with wedding preparations, and her nights were filled with Levander, as the days slipped by more and more Millie realised her idea of a family and Levander’s were poles apart.

  The tenderness they had found on the island seemed to have evaporated as soon as they’d touched down on the mainland. The only trace of it to be found was in the nights, when he reached for her, but it only disintegrated again every morning.

  And for Millie the disquiet grew.

  The uneasy homesickness that washed in at times positively overwhelmed her each and every time she rang her family to update them on the rapidly approaching wedding day. Hearing her mother’s genuine wonder and delight as she asked about the baby’s progress was such a contrast to Nina’s coldness that it was almost more than Millie could bear.

  ‘I’m having the teeniest panic attack.’ On the eve of her wedding, Anton was in his element when Millie dropped by, humming the ‘Wedding March’ as Millie paced on. ‘And I want you to be completely honest with me. Would it be a terrible faux pas to wear Kolovsky to a Kolovsky wedding?’

  She had to laugh. ‘You’re asking me for fashion advice?’

  ‘I know.’ He clapped his hands to his cheeks. ‘Oooh, thank you, thank you, thank you, for asking me to give you away—it’s going to be the happiest day of my life.’

  At least it would be for one of them, Millie thought, bursting into tears for the forty-second time that day.

  ‘It’s nerves,’ Anton assured her.

  ‘It is,’ Millie sniffed. She badly wanted to talk, to tell someone her tumble of thoughts, but after Janey it was just too big, too scary to indulge in something as simple as a much-needed talk between friends. But as she went to grab her bag, as she thought of going back to the hotel to have Nina sticking pins in her for the final check that her dress was perfect, Millie baulked. ‘I don’t know if I can do this, Anton.’

  ‘It’s definitely nerves, honey,’ Anton insisted, pulling out a vast hanky and trying to make her smile as she wiped her eyes. ‘You know you’re the most hated woman in Australia at the moment!’

  His weak attempt at humour didn’t work.

  ‘I want my mum!’

  ‘Oh, you poor baby…’

  He led her to the back of the gallery, where he made her a big mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her since she’d landed there—the kindest thing anyone had done for her without wanting something in return.

  ‘I know it must kill you not to have your family here, but you do have friends. I was at the airport when you arrived back, you know…’He smiled at her shocked expression. ‘You know I never sleep—I popped out to get the paper and there was that filth sprawled all over it. I figured you could use some moral support—not that I even got close…Talk to me, Millie.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘I know after Janey you’re afraid to trust anyone,’ he said gently, and as she opened her mouth to argue he spoke over her. ‘But I am on your side. I’ll come over tonight the second I lock up, and I won’t leave your side till the wedding…’ He gave a tiny wince. ‘I’ve just got to pop to the hairdresser’s at midday.’

  ‘I’m sure there’ll be one in my room you can use,’ Millie said with a wry smile, but Anton shook his head.

  ‘Luigi would never forgive me. I’m going to hold your hand every step of the way. Once the wedding’s over, once everything’s calmed down, things will be so much easier…’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I guess the question is—do you love him?’ He didn’t follow it up with anything silly—just asked her the one thing in

all this she could answer honestly.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right, then.’

  ‘How is your mother?’ Levander asked, sitting on the bedroom chair and smothering a yawn.

  ‘Teary,’ Millie admitted, standing in her dress as Nina and Sophia, the dressmaker, tugged none too gently. She hated how clinical it all was—hated that a silly little thing like him seeing her in dress before the big day mattered to her so. ‘Wishing she could be here.’

  ‘You’ll see her very soon.’

  ‘I know.’ Millie stared fixedly ahead wishing it was two o’clock tomorrow and it was all over with.

  ‘I have to go soon…’ Levander glanced at his watch

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Iosef’s plane is due in—I’d like to be there to meet him. We are going out for dinner with my father.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Nina stood back and admired her top dressmaker’s handiwork—as well she might. A sheath of thick ivory Kolovsky silk had been sculpted to Millie’s body, every stitch, every nip, somehow turning her into the beautiful bride she had to be. ‘Sophia will be over tomorrow to help with any last-minute alterations. Now, no eating from now till after the wedding.’ Nina frowned, running a very unwelcome hand over Millie’s slight bump. ‘I can get you some of the special herbal tea the models use—to get a bit of fluid off.’

  Millie didn’t even deign to respond—just peeled off the dress and stood silent as Nina flounced out of the bedroom, carrying the dress as if it were some precious child.

  ‘Ignore her,’ Levander said.

  ‘Oh, I assure you I try.’

  ‘I know it is hard—to marry without your family. But it is not as if…’He didn’t finish, so Millie did it for him.

  ‘It’s not as if it’s a real wedding.’

  ‘Of course it is real,’ Levander countered, but Millie shook her head.

  ‘You know, this should be like a dream come true—a fabulous wedding, A-list guests, a designer dress, a baby on the way, the man—’ She stopped herself. How she wanted to tell him how she felt—that she loved him so much it hurt. Even if she understood that they were marrying for the sake of the child they had created it was killing her inside to know that was the only reason. That if it wasn’t for their baby Levander Kolovsky would never have considered her as his bride. ‘I guess it’s true—we should be more careful what we wish for.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s a saying—be careful what you wish for, it might come true.’

  As she delivered the saying the confusion that had been etched on his face disappeared. All expression did. Always pale, his skin was now as white as marble; even those beautiful lips were dusky in his grey features.

  ‘That is how you feel?’

  His voice seemed to be coming from far away, and his question confused her. Because she did know how she felt. Millie knew as she stood there before him that she loved him, and that was what was killing her. Being close to him and knowing she couldn’t really have him—that this distant, remote, yet at times incredibly emotive man, couldn’t give her the piece of him that she needed.

  ‘You feel trapped?’ Levander pushed.

  And she nodded—because trapped was how she felt. Not by the situation, but by her feelings. She realised then that, as impressive as Levander’s reasons were for a hasty marriage, if she didn’t love him, didn’t want him with every fibre of her being, she’d have walked away—would have made it on her own.

  Would have managed just fine.

  ‘Come!’ Waltzing back into the bedroom and not even knocking, Nina called to Levander. ‘We need to get to the airport, and Millie should get a good night’s sleep.’ Over her shoulder, unwittingly for once, Nina hurled another knife. ‘Enjoy your last night of freedom!’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ANTON, for all that he wasn’t family, made a very good mother of the bride—spoiling her rotten, policing everyone. And there were plenty to police. The hairdresser, the manicurist, the dressmaker, the make-up artists…

  Artists!

  Millie needed two, apparently. One for her face and the other to concentrate solely on her décolletage—to even out her fading tan and ensure her cleavage was spectacularly arranged.

  Anton even made a fuss of Annika, Millie’s very stunning bridesmaid and half-sister-in-law to be—who, given Millie was about to share her surname, actually opened up a touch as the room buzzed with the frenzy of getting her ready.

  Finally, when Anton had shooed everyone out and it was just the three of them, he gave Millie the biggest of smiles, then promptly burst into tears. ‘You look ravishing.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now, I’m going to race over to Luigi’s and get just a smidgen of product put through my hair—and you, honey…’

  ‘I know.’ Millie shivered at the prospect of ringing her parents. ‘Maybe I should ring them after the wedding…’

  ‘No.’ Anton was insistent. ‘They’ll want to wish you luck. You know you have to do this—by the time you’re done I’ll be back. Look after her, Annika,’ Anton called, flying out of the door.

  ‘Maybe it would be better to wait?’ Annika gave a sympathetic smile and said absolutely the wrong thing. ‘You might ruin your make-up.’

  She didn’t want this.

  Tears were filling her exquisitely made-up eyes and she blinked them back, staring at her reflection and trying, for the thousandth time, to tell herself that everything was okay.

  She was marrying the man she loved.

  Marrying the father of her child.

  Standing in her stunning wedding dress, with a packed church waiting to share in this most special moment.

  So why did it feel as if she were walking to the gallows?

  It was just homesickness, Millie told herself. If only her family could be here…But that didn’t fit—because, as much as she missed them, it wasn’t actually her family she needed today…

  It was Levander…

  Or rather his love.

  Fiddling with the huge diamond on her ring finger, she recalled their lovemaking, tried to hone in on the magic they shared. But no matter how much she tried, how much she wanted to convince herself, at the end of the day it was the baby they were marrying for…

  But was it enough?

  ‘Your family must be very proud,’ Annika attempted as Millie tried to hold down the single glass of water she’d managed that morning. ‘Believe it or not, my father is proud too.’

  ‘Believe it or not?’ Millie frowned. ‘Why wouldn’t he be proud of Levander?’

  ‘He is proud of Levander. I was talking about…well you two…’ Annika was still going on, frowning at Millie’s pale reflection and without invitation adding another dash of blusher. ‘Even though you’re not perhaps who we’d have first chosen it has all worked out well—Papa has got his wish and more.’

  ‘His wish?’

  ‘Last night it was made official,’ she prattled on, less reserved without her mother around. ‘My father always said that the Kolovsky empire would go to the first of his children who gave him a grandchild. And we all knew that he wanted that person to be Levander—the son he would give anything to make happy. Levander has been a driving force in the company and Papa is desperate for him to stay on. That night when you two met, when I was pleading with Levander to grant father his wish, he was so adamant the answer was no….’ She smiled down to Millie’s stomach. ‘Who knows how Levander’s mind works?’

  Not she. Millie’s hands went to her stomach, held the tiny life that might not have been such an accident after all, and wondered if Levander, in his own dark way, had somehow decided to claim what he thought he deserved.

  ‘Maybe he will get to see his grandchild too…’ Annika said, her eyes following Millie’s hands. ‘You should have a scan.’

  ‘I’ve had one.’

  ‘Find out this time…’ Annika stood back to admire her handiwork
, to check that the bride they all so desperately wanted was passable enough—was good enough to take the family name. Millie felt like slapping her. ‘Let’s just hope we can tell Papa he is getting a grandson…’

  Annika’s mobile rang she turned her back. ‘Hold on a moment…Levander—what does he want?’

  To make his father happy.

  The biggest most difficult, most terrifying decision of her life was suddenly made incredibly simple.

  She could almost have accepted him marrying her for the baby—marrying her out of duty—but the thought that he had engineered the situation in order to please his father, or worse to inherit the Kolovsky empire, filled her with horror.

  Maybe she was an old-fashioned girl after all, Millie decided. Because the only thing she could marry for was love.

  ‘I’ll just be a moment…’ Annika gave Millie a worried smile. “Everything is okay—you just keep on getting ready.’

  As Annika fled to the bedroom Millie could hear her shouting, hear yet another Kolovsky argument breaking out, but she didn’t even notice. The second the bedroom door closed, Millie pulled off her headdress, yanked the beastly dress down and pulled on her jeans, slipping on some runners and grabbing her purse.

  As Levander had said, it wasn’t a prison…All she had to do was open the doors and press the lift button, then walk calmly out through the hotel foyer. Every waiting camera was on the lookout for a blushing bride in white, not a pale woman in jeans.

  Walking along the tree-lined street, she didn’t look back—not once. She just willed herself to be calm, to keep on walking, until she hit the main road—and boarded a tram that clattered past, not knowing where it was taking her and not really caring.

  ‘End of the line, love.’

  She hadn’t even noticed the tram had come to a stop, her mind lost in a whir of thoughts—trying and failing to picture Levander’s face when he found out his bride wasn’t coming, Anton’s hysterics when he got back to the hotel to find her gone, the shock of the guests, the blitz of headlines, her parents’ reaction…

  Maybe she should have just gone through with it, Millie begged of herself as she stepped off the tram and stood shivering on the street. The bright winter sun that had held so much promise this morning was now shrouded in grey, and a bitter wind was skimming the Tasman and blowing across the bay.

 
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