You hold the key.
At the time he’d put it down to the ramblings of an elderly lady, but now he wasn’t so sure. Was the baby they’d created the key? And, if so, to what? Had she meant the key to being able to lay his ghosts to rest, to being the kind of father he’d wanted to have?
It was then that he knew. His grandmother believed the baby was the key to burying his past—but he could only do that if he married Serena and if they lived as a family. The happy, loving family he’d never had.
‘There isn’t any other way to do it.’
She looked imploringly at him and her words dragged him back to the present. She was wrong. There was one thing they could do.
‘There is if you marry me and return to Greece.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS AS if the floor had opened up and swallowed her. To have Nikos in her home was unexpected, but for him to accuse her first of selling his story, then all but demand she go back and marry him, was beyond comprehension. Was this his way of collecting her debt?
For a moment, when he’d spoken of his childhood, she’d almost gone to him, almost put her arms around him and given in to the need to hold him close. But those last words had cooled the burning need.
She’d tried to love him, but he had pushed her away, locked her out. She had wanted them to be a couple, but it hadn’t worked. Neither would getting married because of the baby. She was convinced they would be exactly the same as her parents had been. Unhappy.
‘No, Nikos. We have already proved that’s a bad idea.’
She shook her head in denial as he moved closer to her, looming over her, his height making her feel intimidated, as it had the night she’d first returned to Santorini. He would make a formidable adversary in the boardroom, of that she was sure, but here in her home she wouldn’t be dominated.
‘Is that so?’
‘You know it is.’ The answer came out in a strangled whisper as she tried to hold on to her senses, even as the fresh scent of his aftershave invaded every nerve cell in her body.
How had they come so far from that week of romance they’d spent in Athens? The emerald ring he’d given her hadn’t changed anything—probably because he hadn’t given it out of love, as the assistant had thought. She lowered her gaze, not wanting to look into his, not wanting to see those blue eyes darken and warm with passion. The husky note in his voice was one she’d come to know, one she loved, and one that would spell disaster if she responded now.
He reached for her face, his fingers briefly touching her chin. He wanted her to look up at him. She ducked out of his way and moved into the living room, quickly collecting up the baby clothes she’d bought that afternoon. Those few hours of shopping with Sally seemed as if they had happened weeks ago, but Sally’s admission over her secret IVF funds still felt painfully raw.
‘Please, Nikos, you should go. There is nothing we can say to one another that hasn’t already been said.’
Her heart ached as if it was breaking in two. This was the man she loved completely and utterly, the man whose baby she carried, and yet they couldn’t be together. His ideals and expectations meant they’d be a carbon copy of her parents. She couldn’t do it—not to herself or the baby. She wanted to be happy and loved.
‘I haven’t said all I need to,’ he said as he walked towards her, his eyes penetrating hers.
She swallowed hard as he towered over her, determined she wasn’t going to move away again. It was time to face up to him—and to the fact that he didn’t love her.
‘You made it clear as I left the villa that you had nothing more to say to me. Now you turn up here and accuse me of selling your story. One I know nothing about.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said and her gaze flew to his at this uncharacteristic admission.
‘Have you ever had any contact with your mother since?’
Suddenly she had to know the whole story. She had to know his story—not the one in the paper that Christos had told. She thought of the words his grandmother had said about her having the key. Had the old lady meant that their baby would be the key to healing his past? Surely she hadn’t known his mother’s story would hit the headlines.
‘She tried to contact me when my father died, and several times since, but...’ He paused and looked at her, the expression in his eyes far away, wrapped in past hurt.
‘But what, Nikos?’ she asked, gently touching his face with her hand, feeling the sharpness of stubble that was also out of character.
It tore her apart to see him like this. She’d do anything she could to make it right for him, but agreeing to marry him wouldn’t work. Whatever was haunting him needed to be brought out into the open, and it was something she needed to do before she moved on to being a mother.
‘I couldn’t let her back into my life. She walked out on me when I was a child—a young boy.’
She heard the pain in his words, felt it transferred to her through the fingers that touched his face. A touch he seemed oblivious to.
‘She didn’t come to your father’s funeral?’
The movement was hardly visible, but he shook his head.
‘They should never have got married. They didn’t belong together. I remember soon after she’d gone my father caught a butterfly, held it tight in his cupped hands, and told me my mother was like a butterfly.’
Serena frowned, not knowing what he was saying, but an image of the brightly coloured creature contained in large manly hands sprang to her mind. ‘What did he mean?’ she whispered, unsure of the relevance this had.
‘He said we had to let it go or it would die.’ The stark and matter-of-fact words sounded numb, devoid of any emotion.
Inside her she wept tears for the boy who had been forced to grow up without his mother, but she wondered if that had been what his mother had really wanted. Could a mother really walk away from her child so coldly?
Before she could say anything else Nikos continued as if he had never expected her to respond.
‘That’s the last time I remember my father being a man I looked up to. He began to drink heavily, became someone to avoid at all costs. That’s when I went to live with my grandparents. I was eight years old.’
Suddenly he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers, and then his gaze dropped further, to the small white baby vest she held. Tension filled the air and she held her breath as he took it from her, his hands so big and tanned against the little garment. He pressed it against the palm of one hand and she bit hard into her lip and looked at his bent head, at the thick, dark, almost tamed curls she’d plunged her fingers into in the throes of passion. He was making everything so much harder.
‘Nikos.’ He looked up at her and as his eyes met hers again she took the vest from him. ‘Don’t do this.’
‘Do what?’ he said hoarsely.
‘Make it harder.’ She heard the catch in her voice and moved away from him, dropping the vest onto the pile, unable to deal with the flood of love and despair that ravaged her heart.
‘I will not walk away from my son, Serena.’ His eyes glittered with determination and his voice reverberated with outrage. ‘I can’t.’
‘You don’t know it will be a boy.’ She frowned at his insistence that the baby was a boy.
‘No,’ he said curtly, the firmness she’d come to expect in his voice back, and then he looked at her.
His defensive wall was in place once more. If only it had stayed down long enough for her to cross—long enough for her to slip through and show him what love could be like.
But that was impossible. He didn’t let anyone close. She knew that now.
* * *
Nikos fought hard to push down the rampage of emotions holding that tiny scrap of material had unleashed. It weakened him—weakened his resolve.
As he�
��d left Athens he’d kept telling himself he was only coming to see her about the newspaper article. Now he knew that had never been true. If he was honest, he’d wanted to see Serena, to ask her to reconsider, even as the plane had soared above the blue waters of the sea heading for London.
He hadn’t acknowledged it then, but he was now prepared to do and say whatever was needed to win her back. She was the mother of his child and he wanted her in his life.
‘I will be a father to my child—a full-time father.’ He couldn’t let his son—or daughter—grow up without him. He wanted to give his child what he’d never had: a family home.
Images of that butterfly all those years ago, as it fluttered its wings and flew away, became vividly clear. Was it the same for Serena? He’d bullied her into agreeing to marriage, exactly as his father had his mother—something he hadn’t known of until he’d read the article. He should let her go—but he couldn’t.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t do that, Nikos. I can’t risk our baby growing up thinking it is the mistake that keeps us together. I want our child to be happy and loved. I want to be happy and loved too.’
He heard the pain in her words and suddenly the puzzle of what his grandmother had meant hit him. The baby was the key—but not to his past. It was the key to happiness, and more importantly to love, because he would love his baby unconditionally. His grandmother had known that—but she’d also known, in her wise and old-fashioned way, something he hadn’t admitted.
He loved Serena.
Everything slid into place, as if a key was being turned in a rusty old lock, opening a door that had been closed for many years. Finally he could admit what had been there since the day he’d met Serena. It had been there since the first moment he’d looked into her beautiful green eyes.
Love.
‘Sometimes you have to take risks in life,’ he said softly as he took her hand, his fingers caressing where the emerald ring should be. He wished he’d brought it with him. He wanted to give it back to her, this time with love.
He was taking a risk—a risk he’d never taken since he was six years old. He was going to hold on to what he wanted—fight for it if he had to. He wasn’t going to lose her now. Serena was his. They belonged together.
The fury that sprang from her took him by surprise.
‘You have done nothing but deceive me since we first met, and now you come here and accuse me of selling stories about you. So give me one good reason why I should believe anything you say.’
He wanted to tell her how he felt, that he loved her, but the words froze on his tongue. The urge to reach for her and take her in his arms was overpowering. He wanted to kiss her and hold her tight, but he deserved her anger, deserved the pain that struck through him at the thought of life without her.
He had lied, concealing his identity not for malicious reasons but because for the first time since he was a teenager he was being liked simply for who he was—not what he had or could give.
‘When we first met you were like a breath of fresh air—a woman who was interested in me for me alone. You didn’t see the wealth of my business, my success or the way I lived, you just saw me.’
Finally he could speak, but he still couldn’t tell her what he needed to—the very thing that could change her mind about marrying him. He couldn’t believe it was so hard to say the words, but he’d never used them, and the thought of doing so left him emotionally exposed and vulnerable. Love had only ever caused him pain.
‘I didn’t see any of that because you didn’t let me—you covered it up. You lied, and that hurts, Nikos.’
Her sharp words felt like an attack, and before he could respond she continued.
‘Did I look like a journalist—one who would sell your story to the highest bidder? It wasn’t as if I introduced myself as such when we first spoke.’
‘Damn it, Serena.’ He crossed the room and took the paper from her, tossing it savagely onto the table. ‘I didn’t tell you who I was because there was no need.’
‘No. A few weeks of seduction was all you’d ever planned. But then what you’d most dreaded happened. Consequences. Something neither of us wanted. A mistake—one that hurts so much.’
Her voice was a mixture of anger and frustration, and he heard the wobble beneath its firmness and guilt slashed at him.
He recalled what she’d said about her childhood, about the guilt she’d carried, and finally understood her reluctance to marry him purely for convenience. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. But would he have seen it? He’d stubbornly refused to accept what he felt for Serena. He hadn’t been able to admit that the aching emptiness inside him when she’d left after the passionate night on the beach was love.
The first moment their eyes had met, as he’d been maintaining his nets, something had happened. Now he knew what it was.
He stood and faced her, vulnerability prickling all over his skin, as if a chill wind had entered the flat. There wasn’t the adrenalin rush he experienced in board meetings, or the ecstatic thrill of landing a good catch, there was only complete emotional exposure. Everything he felt was there for her to see in his eyes—if only she looked.
‘Serena, our baby will never be a mistake. He or she will not grow up laden with guilt as you did, watching your parents quarrel with each other. It will grow up with two loving parents.’
She closed her eyes as she stood before him, as if trying to banish the image of the memories his words provoked. Slowly and with tentative fingers he brushed her hair back from her face. He heard her breath catch and knew she was far from immune to him. It lit the torch of hope and he pushed on.
‘You know what that’s like—I understand now.’ He lifted her chin with his thumb and finger, willing her to open her eyes. ‘Serena...?’
‘That’s why marriage just wouldn’t work,’ she said, in a firm whisper that echoed with a strength he was far from feeling.
‘I know your pain, Serena. I know what it’s like to be a child who constantly waits for its parents to realise it exists, to want to be a family. You don’t trust me, and for that I’m sorry, but I don’t want my child to wonder where I am, why I am never there.’
Her green eyes widened, frantically searching his face, then she shook her head, her shoulders dropping in defeat. ‘I’m sorry, Nikos, I can’t pass on that guilt to my baby. Surely we can love our child even if we are apart?’
‘But we can’t love each other if we are apart.’
He let the words fall between them, staggered by the heavy thump of his heart as the silence grew more intense. He saw her swallow hard, saw the movement of the creamy softness of her throat where he’d kissed her so often.
‘I’ve been a fool, Serena, a stubborn fool—and I’ve hurt you so much. You are my butterfly, but I can’t let you go.’ Inwardly he cursed. Why couldn’t he just tell her he loved her instead of dancing around the issue?
‘It’s too late, Nikos. I tried to love you, hoping it would be enough, but it never will be. You threw my love back at me. Now it’s gone.’
Her fingers closed around his, pulling his hand away from her face, and he looked down at his hand, partly covered by her small one. It couldn’t be too late—it just couldn’t. He wouldn’t accept that. Not now he’d finally opened his heart to love—her love.
As the panic of losing her raced through him she let go of his hand and walked away towards the front door of her flat. She wanted him to go. He followed her to the door, but knew he couldn’t do that until he’d told her. If he didn’t say it now he would have no alternative but to walk away and remain silent for ever.
Her fingers reached for the lock, but he took her hand, holding it tightly in both of his, then took a deep breath as confusion raced across her face. Finally he managed to form the words that could change his life, chase the demons of the past away and br
ing him happiness.
‘I love you, Serena.’
* * *
Serena heard her breath dragged in as the words she’d longed to hear rushed from his lips. She looked at his face. His blue eyes, usually so vibrant and alive, were subdued, veiled with what looked like pain.
‘No...’ she whispered, and tried to pull her hand free, but he held it firmly.
How could he expect her to believe him now, when he’d proved he would do anything he had to to get what he wanted? She had to remember the deal he’d so coldly laid before her.
‘It’s too late.’
‘Too late?’
His deep voice rumbled around the narrow hallway, his proximity making her light-headed. Why couldn’t he just leave? Then she could crawl into her bed and cry her heart out all night. Tomorrow would be a fresh start, the beginning of her life without Nikos.
‘Too late for what?’
‘Why have you waited until now to tell me?’ She surprised herself with the forthright and businesslike tone of her words and lifted her chin, determined to show a fighting spirit she was far from feeling.
He frowned, and before he could answer she did it for him. ‘Because you will do anything to get what you want. You lied to me once, Nikos, I won’t fall for it again. I don’t love you. I can’t love a man with such a ruthless and closed heart.’
‘You have changed that, Serena. My grandmother saw it even when I hadn’t.’ He kept her hand firmly in his and moved towards her, forcing her back against the wall of the hallway. ‘She saw what I had been trying to ignore—that I was in love with you.’
She lowered her gaze, refusing to look into his eyes, refusing to be drawn in yet again. ‘That doesn’t matter—it’s still too late. I don’t love you.’
Each word was a painful lie. She did love him, but she didn’t dare admit it now. She couldn’t have it tossed back at her again.
‘I don’t believe you.’
From One Night to Wife Page 16