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Did she really want to expose herself to the possibility that he might not even understand her pain? Perhaps the time had come to reveal something more. It was the only way to discover if there was substance to this attraction that floated between them.
Her shoulders slumping, she said, “I was eighteen, he was nineteen. We were in love.”
A shadow passed across his face.
“You can’t imagine it, can you?” Ella pulled a face. “I was besotted. I thought it was forever.”
“What happened?”
“I got pregnant.”
He sighed, the sound overloud in the living room of Ella’s town house. Something cold shriveled in Ella’s chest. “It was perfectly predictable,” she said. “He disappeared as soon as I told him. All his promises of our future together vanished as he ran for the plane to take him to a new job and new future in Australia. Within weeks I heard he had a new girlfriend, too.”
“And you were left holding the baby.” Ella could feel the tension that coiled through his body even before he asked, “You had an abortion?”
She gave him a sharp look and broke out of his arms, shifting to sit on the side of the sofa farthest from him. “No!”
“So what happened to the baby?”
“The baby,” she said through stiff lips, “died.”
* * *
This time Yevgeny brooked no resistance as he took Ella in his arms.
Her body was rigid and she felt worryingly cold. He rubbed his hands along her arms, and marveled that he’d ever considered Ella a human icicle.
She was complex, yet kind. And she’d endured more than any woman should need to.
“I’m sorry.”
He brushed his lips over hers in a gesture of sympathy. Her mouth clung to his, and Yevgeny kept the contact until she finally broke it.
“Thank you.”
He let the silence surround them, not pressing her to tell him more. It was curiously companionable, with no rough edges as she nestled closer. His hands stroked along her back, touching, offering wordless comfort, even as Yevgeny wished he could take the pain from her.
When she did speak, she lifted her face up to him and said, “Make love to me.”
“Now?” His hands paused in their stroking. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, her honey-colored eyes pleading. “Yes. Now. Here. I want to feel alive again.”
This time their loving held a well of tenderness.
Rather than passion, it was care and concern that Yevgeny expressed with every stroke and touch. Only when her body softened, became increasingly fluid, did he finally pull her over him and let her take him into her.
Then he rocked her.
Slowly and so gently. Until the sensations built to a peak and the passion broke.
When it was over, he pulled her up against him, and held her tight.
A while later, Ella straightened up. “I feel much better.” She sounded surprised. “Definitely more alive.”
“Good.”
She sat up slowly and reached for the clothing she’d discarded. “You’ve been very patient.”
“It’s one of my less well-known qualities.” He gave her a small smile and was relieved when her eyes sparkled back. After she’d pulled the garments on, Yevgeny reached out his hand and took hers. “I’m here for as long as you need me.”
Astonishment flitted across her face, followed by acceptance. “Thank you.”
“I’m the one who needs to say thank you,” he said, “for giving me Holly.”
“The other baby—” Ella broke off.
“You don’t need to talk about that if you don’t wish to.”
“I want to.” Her eyes met his bravely. “The other baby was going to be adopted out. It was a closed adoption—my parents thought it would be for the best. I never knew anything about the family she was going to—only that they couldn’t have children. Once the baby was gone...I knew I would never see it again.”
That’s why she’d been so insistent about an open adoption this time around, he realized. “That must have been hard to deal with.”
Her eyes had gone blank. She’d retreated into the world of the past. “The morning I went into labor—I changed my mind. I wanted to keep the baby. My parents wouldn’t hear of it. We were still fighting when I went into labor. It was a boy.”
Yevgeny waited. Nothing he could say would be adequate to comfort her.
“But something went wrong. The cord was wrapped around his neck...and he died. I felt like I’d killed him—by changing my mind and deciding to keep him.”
“No!”
“I know. It’s not a rational fear. But it took me a long time to come to terms with it.”
