‘And that’s what this is about, is it? Your choices? Your pregnancy? Your baby?’ He shook his head. ‘This is not your baby, Nola, it’s our baby—mine as much as yours—and you know it. And I am going be a part of his or her life.’
Nola stared at him numbly, her head pounding in time with her heart. She didn’t know what to say to him—hadn’t got the words to defend herself or argue her case. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t listening to her anyway.
Shoulders back, neck tensing, she looked away, her eyes searching frantically for some way to escape—and then her heart gave a jolt as she suddenly saw the time on the departures board.
The next second she had snatched her suitcase and was on her feet, pulse racing.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Ram was standing in front of her, blocking her way.
‘I have to go!’
Her voice was rising, and a couple of people turned to look at her. But she didn’t care. If she missed this flight she would be stuck in Sydney for hours, possibly days, and she had to get away—as far away from Ram as quickly as she could.
‘They’ve called my flight so I need to check in my luggage.’
For a moment he stared at her in silence, and then his face shifted and, leaning forward, he plucked the suitcase handle from her fingers.
‘Let me take that!’
He strode away from her and, cursing under her breath, she hurried after him.
‘I really don’t need your help,’ she said through gritted teeth.
Tucking the suitcase under his arm, he smiled blandly. ‘Of course not. But you have to understand I don’t fly commercial, so all this rushing around is very exciting for me. It’s actually better than watching a film.’
He sounded upbeat—buoyant, almost—and she glowered at him, part baffled, part exasperated by this sudden change in mood.
‘That’s wonderful, Ram,’ she said sarcastically. ‘But I’m not here to be your entertainment for the evening.’
‘If you were my entertainment for the evening you wouldn’t be getting breathless from running around an airport,’ he said softly. And, reaching over, he took her arm and pulled her towards him.
Her breath stuttered in her throat, and suddenly all her senses were concentrated on his hand and on the firmness of his grip and the heat of his skin through the fabric of her shirt.
‘You need to slow down. You’re pregnant. And besides...’ he gestured towards the seemingly endless queue of people looping back and forth across the width of the room ‘...I don’t think a couple of minutes is going to make that much difference.’
Gazing at the queue, Nola groaned. ‘I’m never going to make it.’
‘You don’t know that.’ Ram frowned. ‘Why don’t we ask at the desk?’
He pointed helpfully to where two women in uniform were chatting with a group of passengers surrounded by trolleys and toddlers. But Nola was already hurrying across the room.
‘Excuse me. Could you help me, please? I’m supposed to be on this flight to Edinburgh but I need to check in my baggage.’
Handing over her boarding pass, she held her breath as the woman glanced down at it, and then back at her screen, before finally shaking her head.
‘I’m sorry, the bag drop desk is closed—and even if we rush you through it’s a good ten minutes to get to the boarding gate.’ She grimaced. ‘And, looking ahead, all Edinburgh flights are full for the next twenty-four hours. You might be able to pick up a cancellation, but that would mean hanging around at the airport. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful...’
‘That’s okay,’ Nola said stiffly. ‘It’s really not your fault.’
And it wasn’t.
Turning away, she stalked over to where Ram stood, watching her unrepentantly.
‘This is your fault,’ she snapped. ‘If you hadn’t been talking to me I’d have heard it when they called my flight and then I would have checked in my luggage on time.’
He gazed at her blandly. ‘Oh, was that your flight to Edinburgh? I didn’t realise it was that important. Like I said, I don’t fly commercial, so—’