Page 50 of Lela's Choice

Not pregnant.Then why?Lela had spent years trying to instil the values of self-respect and self-reflection in Sophie. Spent years trying to distil the essence of being sister, mother, aunt and grandmother so Sophie would miss none of them.

Lela had made mistakes. Who wouldn’t? But Lela had hoped Sophie trusted her to give her niece a fair hearing and an honest answer. Harder to shift was the nagging conviction Papa might have floated the idea of an arranged marriage. At twenty, Lela had invoked her mother’s name to repudiate a business marriage. Papa had promised her he’d never suggest it again. A promise, she’d believed, covered both her and Sophie.

Could she trust her memory now for the exact words Papa had used? His promise to her had been absolute, and he’d kept it.Did you leave yourself an escape clause, Papa, allowing you to propose such an arrangement for Sophie without breaking your word?Lela had been incandescent with rage at the time. The wily, old autocrat could have taken advantage of her less-than-rational state of mind.

“You wouldn’t be so crazy, Papa, to lie to me about something so important.” But the Debrincat name had spooked him, triggering old resentments. “I’ll fight you.” She’d walk the tightrope of independence and filial respect. Make the compromises needed to keep her family safe and close.

Whatever she found, this escapade had changed all their lives. Sophie’s flight made it clear her choices would be her own. Lela and her father could either accept the changed family dynamics or face losing Sophie. Sophie’s actions had also accelerated the moment when Lela could make choices, which put her wants and needs higher up the list of priorities.

She wanted Hamish to trust her enough to tell her about his wife’s death. She imagined introducing him to her family. He lived in her hometown—inviting him to a meal, catching a movie or going on a picnic could be the beginning of something more.

No previous relationship had survived those tests.

Hope was a fragile yet indestructible green shoot in this messy endeavour.

Hamish is different.

She was different with him. In his arms she found another part of herself. Remembering the journey home the previous evening, her nipples tightened, and her eyes closed. Such sumptuous kisses—he’d shown her desire, shown her she’d laid down her defences against the passion he stirred. She wouldn’t have stepped away if he’d put his hands on her.

Hamish draped his jacket over her shoulders and pulled her into the shelter of his arms. “Put this on before you freeze,” he spoke against her ear.

Disoriented, still battling her disappointment that she hadn’t reached out last night, new need and new heat pooled in her groin. Every muscle strained to turn into his body, to curl around him. Forcing her eyes open, she took a steadying breath and focused on the island ahead.

“Someone tried to call you.” Something in his voice had her turning to search his face.

“What’s happened?”

“You should be on deck. Approaching Gozo by ferry is a moment worth remembering, when you forget about the crazy wind.” He grimaced. “Except I also got a call. You need to check who rang you.”

Lela followed him inside, sliding into a booth opposite him. When she read the text message, she was grateful for the warmth of his jacket. “The director of the charity wants me to ring her urgently.”

“Do you want a coffee?”

She stared at him blankly for a few moments. “I don’t need privacy, Hamish. Whatever she has to say we both need to know.” She pressedcall back, her thoughts taking flight, while she waited for the woman to pick up.Had Sophie and Peter fled again?Were she and Hamish on a wild goose chase? “Lela Vella. You called.”

* * *

HAMISH COULDN’T PICKup much from the bits of conversation he overheard, but her questions were similar to those he’d asked Marty a few minutes earlier.

“When?”

“Did he give a name?”

“What did you tell him?” Ending the call, she turned to Hamish. “Did you already know?”

Hamish reached across the tabletop for her hand. Cold, shaking slightly but with rage or fear he couldn’t tell. He took her other hand, rubbing both between his own, coaxing warmth back into them. “Marty rang while you were on deck. I’d just hung up when your phone rang.”

“A man appeared at the charity claiming to represent me, saying I’d asked him to check for news.” She wasn’t panicking.

“What answer did they give?”

“The director guessed he was a fake. I’ve kept her up-to-date on our progress.” She’d acted to protect her sources and his. Evidence she considered the risks to others and looked after them.“But this man knew I’d been in touch. The director told him they were still looking. Hadn’t had any luck yet and asked for his contact details in case they learned anything.”

“Did he supply details?”

“Nothing traceable. A name and the number of a burner.” Her answer intrigued him.

“Where did you learn about burners?”

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