And now she wanted more. She wanted to feel Matteo’s love. She wanted to love and be loved in return. Marry him, live with him, have a child with him. Dance. And maybe, just maybe, be a good mum...
She wanted to know how it felt to be loved for herself. Not for her smile, or her long dark hair, or her clever body. She wanted to be loved for being Ruby.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HE LET THE car window slide slowly down, then cut the engine. Warm, humid air pushed against his face and he reached for his collar, tugged the knot of his tie loose and flicked at the top button until it popped open.
Suits. He still hated wearing them and couldn’t accept that he’d become one. Still never properly saw himself as that type. He’d hated being made to wear one as a teenager. Being choked in the suffocating confines of grey gabardine had not been his idea of a good time.
And he’d managed to avoid wearing them right up until his father’s funeral. By then there had been no choice—and how much worse could it have been anyway? He’d started learning to fill his father’s shoes before the hard, lumpy earth was scattered on his coffin, and he was still learning. Still a work in progress.
He got out and stretched his legs. The drive up from London had been sweet and smooth, and he was just in the mood for a little wander round the lake and then up to the house where the British Ballet held their summer school. And where his beautiful wife-to-be would be waiting to meet him.
He lifted his jacket from the back seat, slung it over his shoulder and began to move along the driveway towards the patch of blue lake, lying flat and still like a bright blue eye in a green face.
A flurry of girls just like a little Ruby flew past him down the sweep of stone steps, hair scraped back in buns and slim as flamingos. He tried to work out their age. Six? Seven? He had very little idea when it came to things like that. He had very little idea about children at all, but after years of regarding them as something he could barely tolerate, the idea of a little Ruby to cherish almost felled him at the knees.
He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter. To think that his child would be born innocent, helpless and dependent on him, was almost drowning out every other waking thought. He felt like a warrior for this unborn child. He would do anything and everything he could for the little bundle of soft bones and tiny developing organs he had seen on the scan with Ruby yesterday.
His little girl.
For years he’d positioned himself as a confirmed bachelor. How he’d scoffed at other men, scorned their happy family weekend stories, derided the doting daddy photographs in their wallets. He’d been superior to all that. He’d never get caught out. He was too damn smart.
But when he’d seen that image...
Life would never be the same again. He was sure of that. He only wished he could be so sure of Ruby.
He’d watched her at the scan, lying on the bed. As the consultant had put the image on the screen he’d watched her eyes flicker and widen with surprise. She’d turned pale, and her mouth had tightened into a worried line, her hands into fists. If he hadn’t known any better he’d have said she was terrified. But that didn’t make any sense. Women loved babies.
He’d tried to hold her hand, but she’d pulled it away. He’d tried again—reached out to touch her stomach—but she’d literally flinched.
He’d tried to jolly her along after the consultant had left the room, but it had seemed as if she was caught in a trance. And unable and unwilling to jump out of it.
They’d travelled back to the penthouse in a silence punctuated only by the business calls he’d had to take—calls he’d been able to do nothing about, stoking the flames of the Arturo deal, keeping the embers warm so he could pick it up again after the weekend. How could he not? And as he’d done so he had felt her moving further and further away—as if she was walking away from him in a blizzard, swallowed up into another world, hidden from sight, muffled, unreachable.
He’d insisted on the scan the moment they’d arrived back from Ile-St-Agnes. He’d thought it would bring them closer—he’d thought wrong. He’d assumed she’d move in with him immediately—but no. In the three days since they’d got back they were still working on that. She wanted to stay independent, living in her little flat until they left to be married, even though that was only in two days’ time.
So all he could do was wait. And plan. And hope that in these moments when the enormity of it all reared up like a wall of men battling in a scrum—a force so physical that he felt he might be crushed, as if with one wrong move, one moment of weakness the whole thing could go—all he could do was pray. Because he’d never have the energy to fight like this again. There would never be another chance, when everything was laid out for him. It was now or never.
They were going straight from here—Birch Lodge, the beautiful old manor house set in its own grounds in the north of London, where the youngest British Ballet dancers boarded and attended lessons—to the airport, and then on to be married in private in Rome.
There would be a few guests—his closest friends, as well as his mother and David. Ruby hadn’t wanted to invite anyone, and nothing he’d done to try and persuade her to talk about her father or contact her mother had succeeded.
It was a strange relationship, he had to admit. They seemed to be as distant and he and his own mother were close. But he wasn’t going to judge. How could he? As long as Ruby and the baby were OK, his mother had enough love to go round.
He turned from the still, glassy lake as another flurry of movement caught his eye. This time the children were definitely older—early teens. Boys and girls. He watched them, curious to see their fresh-faced youth, their lithe, strong bodies. He probably hadn’t looked much different himself once...
‘Matteo!’
He looked round at the sound of her voice and there she was. And, God help him, even at thirty paces he could feel the punch of that smile like a squeeze on his heart. Because now he could read it. He could see that it wasn’t full and free. It was a smile of greeting, but not of welcome. She could smile brighter and better and bolder than anyone he had ever met, but there was always something held back, something hiding behind it.
But when she really smiled—when he made love to her and she lay warm in his arms, when she forgot all about her troubles and he saw who she really was—that was when he felt as if he had pulled her back from the blizzard and brought her indoors, set her by the fire. And he’d watch as the roses bloomed in her cheeks and the sparkle shone from her eyes.
‘Hi,’ he said, striding over the grass towards her, never taking his eyes from her where she stood on the top step, looking down at him.
She opened her arms wide—gracefully, hypnotically. ‘Beautiful day,’ she said, indicating the grounds.
‘Even more beautiful now,’ he said, walking right up to her and putting his arms around her, folding her to him and loving the way she melded into him so perfectly. Their bodies, so different, somehow fitted together like two halves of a whole. He placed a kiss on her cheek, and then on the other, and then, because he wanted more and he didn’t care who saw, he took one from her lips.
She smiled. ‘I have a reputation to maintain here, you know.’
‘I know,’ he said, tucking her under his arm and walking them down the steps. ‘How were your classes today?’
‘I’m getting to really like it. Having all those little faces staring at me, trying to help them without criticising... And the feeling when they get it right is amazing. Almost as good as dancing itself.’
‘You must be a natural.’
‘Oh, I’m not a natural—far from it. I just love dancing and so do they.’
Just then the crowd of little girls came rushing up the grass, back from their afternoon break. They crowded around Ruby, jumping up and down, giggling excitedly.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Are you coming
back tomorrow?’
‘Please come back and teach us again—we had so much fun.’
And then they all swarmed off, like a cloud of starlings.
‘You see, you’re a natural,’ he said solemnly, nodding and then he squeezed her hand to underline his message. ‘Just like you’re going to be with our little one.’
They walked towards the car, and he felt her fingers weaken in his grip as silence descended around them again. But he wasn’t going to let it take hold of her. He was going to power through. He could not afford for her to get cold feet.
‘We’re all set for the weekend. We’ll go from here to the airport and land in Rome about seven. My mother will arrive about midnight, so you won’t see her until tomorrow. Ceremony’s set for eleven...’
He paused, stole a quick glance at her over the roof of the car. But her face was hidden behind huge sunglasses and her mouth gave nothing away.
‘I spoke with Augusto this afternoon, too. We’re expected there next Friday, by which point we’ll be married...’
She was pulling her seat belt across her body with infinite care. He started the engine and nosed the car along the driveway.
‘Which is just as well because it turns out Claudio is going to visit them immediately after us.’
He turned sharply to look at her, to see her reaction. There was none.
‘So anything he tries to say—any dirt he tries to dish up—we’ll have covered all the bases. We’ll play the happiest, cutest newlyweds this side of the Apennine Mountains. And there’s nothing Arturo loves more than a young Italian family and all that promises to follow. Kids and houses and happily-ever-after.’
He turned again to see her, but she had turned her head to stare out of the window.
He reached for her hand, squeezed it. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Yes, of course. Obviously I want to get back to work as soon as I can. Now that I’m getting into it I really don’t want to go disappearing for long.’
‘Obviously,’ he said, turning resolutely back to face the road. ‘It should all be tied up one way or the other in about ten days. That’s not too long to be away, is it? It is your wedding, after all.’
They rolled along in silence but he could hear her thinking as clear as day.
It’s not a real wedding, though, is it?
And he knew that. He knew it all the way from his overloaded brain down to the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. What he was doing was wrong. It was wrong to make her do this. It was wrong to bind her to him like this because he wanted this merger so badly.
But, more than that, he wanted his little family.
Yes, he did.
He wanted his little girl and he wanted her mother. And he was prepared to do anything to get it—because he had to. He had to make this work. He had to move those wheels, push all those pieces into position himself.
It was the long game—and he’d been playing it his whole life. If he didn’t push on with this, then what? The bank would sink into oblivion and this woman would disappear off and some other guy would marry her.
No!
He slammed the steering wheel with his open hand so suddenly that the car veered slightly off the road and Ruby turned round, alarmed.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to do that.’ He shook his head, furious at his lack of composure. He could not allow cracks to show. Not anger, not alcohol, nothing. ‘Ruby, I really want this to work.’
‘I know you do.’
‘No, I mean really. I really want this to work. It would mean the world to me. I’ve never properly come out and said it, but I can’t get it out of my head. You and the baby. The bank. Everything.’
‘There’s no reason why it shouldn’t,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve done everything you could.’
He heard the wistful tone in her voice. The note of self-sacrifice was like a soprano’s aria, cutting through the crystal of his own determination. She was sacrificing everything for him and their baby. Her career was effectively over for months. All she could do was cling on to the company by teaching at the school.
And what of them? Of their relationship? It was as vulnerable and beautiful and new as the baby growing inside her. He would do anything to nurture it and bring it fully to life. He wanted to do the right thing for Ruby, but that meant doing this first. Doing his duty. Once all that was dealt with, then he could finally relax...
‘You know this won’t last for ever,’ he said, trying to cheer her up. ‘We’ll come out the other side and get back on track with our lives.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘I won’t hold you back, Ruby. I want you to be happy too. I want both of us to get what we want out of this. Your career, the bank secure, Claudio a distant memory—all of it.’
‘And you really think that your having the biggest, most successful private bank in Europe is going to make Claudio disappear? Don’t you think that if the merger goes ahead he’ll find even more reasons to hate you? From what you’ve told me about him, I think he’ll make it his life’s work to destroy your bank. This isn’t going to make him go away—it’s going to make him worse.’
Matteo frowned and shook his head as he spotted the signs for the airport and turned off.
‘No,’ he said, dismissing the thought. ‘He’ll leave well alone. And anyway—this isn’t about him. This is about doing the right thing for the Rossinis. I’ve got to get the bank—’
‘Back to where it was,’ she finished for him, in a resigned voice. ‘I know. I get it. I just wish you did.’
She’d muttered the last words under her breath, but he’d caught them. Why was she being like this? His plan was sound—solid. Why was she poking holes in the one thing that he knew was completely right?
He parked the car, cut the engine and got out. He walked round the other side to help her out, but she was on her feet and had slammed the door already.
Hearing the roar of the jets and feeling the warm summer wind whipping at his face, he followed her into the building.
‘I don’t expect you to see it like I do, Ruby. Nobody can know what it has been like.’
In the cool air-conditioned lobby she spun to face him. ‘You were a rugby player, for God’s sake, Matteo. You’re only a banker because you were forced to be, and you’re never going to be free of this until you give it up. Just give it up! You’re running face-first into a wall that you’ve built for yourself when you should be running in the opposite direction.’
She pulled her sunglasses off as she spoke and he saw tears in her eyes and anger pinching at her mouth.
‘I don’t need you to marry me. I can cope perfectly well without all this. I’ll get by—you don’t need to give it a second thought on my account.’
‘What are you talking about? When did I ever give you the impression that I don’t want to do this? You’ve got it totally wrong. This is bigger than both of us. I don’t have any choice. There is no choice!’
As he said the words he heard himself. But there was no choice. There wasn’t...
‘There’s always a choice,’ she said quietly. ‘You just can’t see it.’
The nose of a jet pushed into view on the Tarmac. Three uniformed staff in pristine navy and white walked past, trundling little carry-on cases. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He turned away and pulled it out.
‘David,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
‘I thought you’d want to know. Your stock has just gone up—I’ve heard from the Levinson Group that they’ve finished with Claudio’s operation and they’re moving back to us. And with them will come others. You’re in a really strong position now to go into the final stages of negotiation with Arturo. But you’ll need to come back as soon as you can to keep this moving. Can you do a dinner tonight? And some meetings on Monday? I know you wanted me to keep
a few days free for your little holiday, but this is all happening now and we can’t afford to miss a trick.’
‘Great—of course I can. That’s amazing,’ he said, looking at the retreating back of Ruby, at the long ponytail defining the perfect symmetry of her perfect body.
Her posture was graceful and proud in every movement. She smiled as she handed her passport to the ground crew, and her eyes, as they flicked to him, held that secret dark promise that he still couldn’t read.
And he was going to marry her. He was going to marry that woman because he damned well wanted to have her in his life. He wanted to be with her. It made him feel good. It made him feel happy and hopeful and as if there was a point to life.
Things were coming together. A beautiful, perfect fit. He was going to pull this off. He was going to be a father.
He was going to be a husband.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THERE WASN’T A sound when Ruby woke for the third time, alone in the antique brass bed, swaddled in the finest cream linen sheets. She’d barely slept, but already the brightening tones of morning were pushing against the windows and seeping in through the heavy drapes. She reached an arm out to check the time on her phone. Six a.m. Five hours to go.
Five hours until her life changed irrevocably—though hadn’t it changed already? Hadn’t it changed the moment she’d put on that red dress, opened that bottle of beer and shared the story of Rumi’s poetry on that flight from Rome to London with the most wonderful man in the world? There was no going back from that moment—because that was when she had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with him.
Nothing else and no one else would ever have induced her to step from her path—her blinkered, stubborn path that had been going nowhere other than forward into loneliness. But at least then she had known every step—she had been sure where her foot would land, where her path would eventually lead.
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