Marrying His Runaway Heiress

by Therese Beharrie

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I told you—’

  ‘You gave me some rubbish diplomatic answer,’ he hissed. ‘I want to know why? What changed between last night—this morning—and now?’

  He realised he sounded desperate, but he couldn’t help it. Panic had joined his complicated emotions, spurring the words.

  Slowly, she set her tea down on the table in front of her. It was a round glass table held up by metal spirals painted gold. What a strange thing for him to note. Especially when his eyes shifted to her hands and he could see them shaking.

  ‘I’m doing this to...to protect us.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From me.’

  She blinked rapidly, showing emotion she hadn’t given him since he’d come to find her. He thanked the universe for it. Emotion was what made his Elena, and if she was showing it, even in this form, it meant that she was coming back. If she came back, maybe this wasn’t some warped repetition of his childhood.

  He didn’t have a chance to process that thought.

  ‘I spent my life trying to get my father to love me because he’s the only person I thought would.’ A tear ran down her cheek, but her gaze was steady on him. Strong. ‘A mistake. He showed me a fraction of approval once and I mistook it for love. I based all my hope on it.’ She shook her head. Cleared her throat. ‘I... I can’t do the same thing with you, Micah.’

  Her words paralysed him.

  His thoughts kept running though. The panic kept fluttering. But now he saw it was for a completely different reason. Before, it had been because he was worried she would reject him—them. Now, he was worried she was about to change them. For ever.

  ‘You’re happy with the way things are between us.’

  ‘I... Yes. It’s us,’ he said, his voice cracking towards the end.

  ‘I’m not,’ she replied softly. ‘I want more from you. I need more. Can you give me more?’

  He opened his mouth, but the claws were back, threatening to shred his tongue if he replied.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, voice hoarse. ‘It wasn’t a fair question. I shouldn’t have asked it.’

  ‘Elena.’ He shook his head. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘You know what I’m saying.’ She stood now, squaring off with him in a raw way that broke his heart. ‘I can’t say it. I won’t say it, and complicate the arrangement we have.’ She continued without letting him speak. Which was good. He had nothing to say. ‘I’ll keep to the agreement. I’ll attend social functions, or business functions. Have Serena sync our social diaries and send me information and I’ll be the perfect spouse.’

  ‘I don’t...expect you to do something you don’t want to do.’ He spoke slowly. Heard the emptiness of it. ‘I won’t use you like they did.’

  ‘You won’t be using me,’ she said, shoulders straightening. ‘We have a contract.’

  ‘I won’t keep to the contract.’

  She stiffened. ‘I’m a woman of my word.’

  ‘If you were a woman of your word, you wouldn’t be changing the terms of this relationship on me,’ he spat. He knew he’d regret it later. Didn’t care.

  ‘Do you think I want this?’ she demanded, ice melting into fire. ‘I want to focus on healing after this whole thing happened with my father. I want to stay your friend, or whatever the hell we are, Micah. That’s what I want. But the one thing isn’t possible with the other. I can’t be your friend if I want to heal.’

  ‘I’m not your father.’

  ‘No, you’re my husband. But you can’t love me in the same way he can’t love me, so what does it matter? I can’t live the rest of my life like that.’ Her tears reappeared, but she ignored them. ‘How can I live the rest of my life wanting someone to love me again? How does that help me heal?’

  He took a breath, wanting to say words that would make them both feel better. But he couldn’t. He was afraid, and the fear pulsed so loudly, he couldn’t hear what words they were. He could only hear the warnings, could only feel the alarm. He said nothing.

  ‘See?’ she said softly. ‘I was trying to protect us by giving you an easy way out. Now we’re just in pieces.’

  Slowly, so slowly, he walked to her door. ‘Elena,’ he said, turning around. ‘I’m sorry. I want to—’

  ‘Don’t,’ she interrupted. ‘I understand. You can’t love me because if you do, it makes you as vulnerable to me as you are to your parents. They’ve caused you enough pain. At least this way, you don’t have to worry that I’ll do to you what your parents did to you.’

  His world stopped for a second. As it did, the darkness overtook his senses and he saw she was right. But it didn’t matter because, now, he wanted to protect himself. To fight back the darkness, the fear, and crush the claws. He couldn’t do that with her. She would remind him that he wasn’t as strong as she was. She would remind him of a light he could never possess.

  With one last look, he walked away from his wife.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ELENA MIGHT HAVE got married, but her life was as normal as it had been before her wedding. Apart from the fact that she had to pretend to be living a blissful, married life, of course. Her editor had read her piece on her and Micah’s marriage, had decided it would be a great companion piece to the profile Elena had done on Micah, and printed both. One on the front page of the business section; the other on the front page of the entertainment section.

  Separation from her husband had no part in that. So Elena lived the lie.

  No one would know it wasn’t the truth. Micah’s profile was high enough that no one expected him to carpool with her to work or pop in for lunch. Micah certainly wouldn’t tell anyone. Things would become more complicated if there was an event Micah was at and Elena wasn’t at his side. But it had been six weeks and that hadn’t come up yet. She would worry about it if it did. In the meantime, she would enjoy the boost those articles had given her career.

  After some adjustments, apparently. Her new workload had been a welcome distraction from her emotions, but it had left her feeling run-down. She was tired all the time, even when she woke up, and she had no appetite. It was more or less the same way her body had responded to the adjustment of boarding school, and then the school nurse had done some tests and prescribed some vitamins. She’d felt so much better afterwards though, so she forced herself to go to the doctor even though she had no time for it. She wasn’t as understanding when they called to discuss the results.

  ‘Doctor, I’m sure you have a lot of things to do today other than tell me my iron is low.’ Elena offered the woman a winning smile. ‘We can make this quick.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer,’ Dr Jack said dryly, ‘but it’s a little more complicated than an iron problem.’

  ‘Oh?’ She sat up straighter. ‘No anaemia? Some other vitamin deficiency, then?’

  ‘None of the above.’ Her expression was kind. ‘You’re pregnant.’

  ‘I’m—’ Elena broke off with a laugh. ‘Please. There’s no way I’m...’

  She trailed off when she realised there was a way. A very logical way, really, since she wasn’t on anything and condoms were...

  ‘Are you sure? I haven’t had unprotected sex.’

  ‘I am sure. This indicates you’re about seven weeks pregnant?’ Dr Jack showed her some page with levels of hormones, which she honest to goodness couldn’t take in. ‘If you tell me when your last period was, I’ll be able to tell you more accurately. I also have an ultrasound machine in my examination room. If you’d like more certainty, we can do that?’

  Elena nodded numbly. She did everything numbly after that. Except when the doctor smoothed gel over her belly, pressed the wand against her stomach, adjusted some things on the machine, and a heartbeat sounded in the small room.

  A heartbeat. That was coming from inside her.

  ‘That
sounds good,’ Dr Jack said, examining the machine. She tilted it towards Elena. ‘This is your baby. They’re still a small little thing at this point, which is normal based on how far along you are. Seven and a half weeks now that I have that information about your period.’

  ‘But...the sex was...’

  She couldn’t finish that with the heartbeat still pumping. It was so fast. Was that normal?

  ‘Well, we count based on the first day of your last period, though conception might take place later. Don’t tell anyone I said so, but it’s hard to say accurately.’ There was a pause, and then the sound disappeared. Dr Jack set the wand back at the machine and sat down beside her. ‘I can tell by your reaction that this is a surprise. I can talk to you about your options. I can also give you a copy of this so you can listen to it later when you’re deciding about your options.’

  ‘That seems a bit harsh, Doctor,’ Elena managed to say. ‘Am I supposed to make a decision while listening to...to that?’

  Dr Jack smiled. ‘You don’t have to listen to it. I just want you to have the option of listening to it. Now, let’s get you cleaned up here and have a conversation about what’s going to happen next, shall we?’

  * * *

  ‘Mrs Williams? Mrs Williams, please.’

  For a moment Micah wondered what Serena was doing calling his mother. But Elena was already in front of him before his brain could figure out the calling was happening inside his office.

  ‘I’m sorry, Micah. She wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘I have to talk to you,’ Elena said, looking a little wild.

  He took her in—greedily, though he would never admit it—and made sure she was okay. Then he gave a little nod to his PA and waited until the door was shut.

  ‘Wait, why did Serena call me Mrs Williams? She calls me Elena.’

  ‘You’ve let the world know we’re married, haven’t you?’ He clung to the coolness, though everything inside him yearned to hold her. ‘Why have you barged into my office in the middle of a workday?’

  She frowned. Shimmied her shoulders. ‘I have to talk to you.’

  He merely lifted his eyebrows.

  ‘It’s important.’

  He tried not to let his concern show. It was tough, particularly since he’d spent most of the last six weeks wondering how she was. Even when he managed to bury it by burying himself with work, it popped into his thoughts. When he was in a meeting, or walking to one. When he got home and headed to bed and wondered what it would have been like to come home to her. To have her waiting in his bed.

  Those thoughts flooded his mind more and more as the days passed. It would have forced him to face what was keeping them from being together even if his parents hadn’t suddenly contacted him. His mother had reached out when she’d heard about his partnership with Cliff John. It had been less than he’d hoped for, but more than he’d expected. She’d arrived at his office, primly asked him out to dinner. When he’d accepted, she’d spent the evening talking about work. They had nothing else in common, he supposed, and still he’d longed for more. He hadn’t heard from her since, and he had no desire to reach out from his side either.

  It took a while to accept it, but he realised it had been in motion from the moment he’d proposed to Elena. He knew then already that the reunion with his mother would underwhelm him. It had tempered his expectations, hence the surprise at her offer of dinner. He’d been even more surprised when his father had congratulated him on his marriage. Micah hadn’t read the profile Elena’s newspaper had done on him, uninterested in reliving Italy when his memories of her feistiness, her laugh, her kiss there kept him awake at night.

  Apparently, the article had been combined with an article on their whirlwind courtship and marriage. His father had relayed that fact; Micah hadn’t read that article either. When his father asked if Micah and Elena wanted to join him and his wife for dinner some time, Micah told him he would get back to him. He never had. One, he and Elena weren’t doing anything together any more. Two, if his father only wanted him to join his family for supper when he was a married man... Yeah, he could stuff that invitation.

  His dream about reconciling with his parents had come true in the last weeks, and he was unhappy. Because he saw how damaging that dream was—how damaging they were. They’d taught him that opening his heart would only hurt him. Even when he wanted to open his heart, fear of disappointment kept him from doing so.

  Screw them.

  ‘Are you going to tell me this important thing?’

  ‘It’s better if I show you.’

  Elena didn’t seem deterred by his sharpness. He was annoyed that he wanted her to be. That he wanted to affect her in the same way she affected him.

  She wanted a real relationship with you. What more do you want?

  Anger and frustration—at himself—kept him from answering that question. It didn’t stop his inhalation when she came to his side of the desk, putting a flash drive into his computer. He was a masochist, probably, but he wanted to see if he’d remembered her smell correctly. He had. It was still as soft and tempting as it had been that week in Italy.

  That night in their hotel room.

  ‘I have no idea what this is, but—’

  A rhythmic sound stopped his words in their track. It was fast, loud—a da-da,da-da,da-da that went on and on and on. His eyes lifted to the screen of his computer. It was black and grey, but the grey was in a strange shape that—

  Oh. His brain put the sound and the screen together and... Oh. Oh.

  ‘What are we going to do about this?’ Elena croaked at him. He looked at her. She was watching the screen, looking as helpless as he felt. ‘It’s a...a...’

  ‘A baby.’

  Now she looked at him. ‘Yeah. A baby. That we made.’ She laughed in a way that clearly indicated she didn’t find it funny. ‘Micah, we made a baby.’

  A string of questions ran through his mind.

  Are you sure? How sure? How did you find out? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? How are we going to be parents?

  He got stuck on the last one, mainly because he thought Elena was, too. The other questions were kind of already answered by her appearance there. Of course she was sure—she wouldn’t have been there otherwise. She’d found out from a doctor; he was looking at the evidence of that. And he was sure she would have told him by now if they weren’t okay. She wouldn’t have asked what they were going to do about it if they weren’t...would she?

  ‘Are you both okay?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re fine.’ She exited the window on the computer, as if she was done watching the grey and black and hearing the da-da,da-da,da-da. ‘I’m tired, and eating’s a problem, which is why I went to the doctor in the first place, but I’m fine otherwise. And things seem normal with the...you know.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s early.’

  He got stuck on one piece of information. ‘You’re nauseous?’

  ‘No. I just...don’t want to eat. I doubt that has anything to do with the pregnancy. I forgot to ask, actually. I guess I’ll have to read up on it.’

  ‘What else could it have to do with?’

  She quirked a brow. ‘Really? That’s what you want to talk about?’

  ‘I’m still processing the other thing.’

  Her expression softened. ‘Stress. I’ve been working a lot. The...um...the articles about you helped.’

  Are you working a lot because of me? Because you’re trying to forget me the same way I’m trying to forget you?

  It was presumptuous, but he was sure that was why.

  It wasn’t only presumptuous though. It was unfair. She was the one who’d taken a risk. She had put her feelings out there, hoping for something more. He couldn’t give her more.

  Except apparently, he had. If she was keeping the baby, they’d be as linked by their child as they were by their marriage contract.
More. They could ignore their marriage contract. They’d been doing that for six weeks now. They couldn’t ignore their child.

  They were going to have a child.

  ‘Can I help?’ he asked, a little woodenly. ‘The stress probably isn’t great for the baby. So. Can I help in some way?’

  ‘Oh. No. Not unless you can write my stories for me.’

  ‘I can get you an assistant to—’

  ‘It’s okay, Micah. I can manage.’

  ‘With the baby?’ he asked. ‘Are we keeping it?’

  ‘We?’

  He looked at her. She didn’t show any emotion, and he realised she was protecting herself. ‘You don’t need me, I know. But this is our responsibility.’

  ‘When did I ever say I didn’t need you?’ she asked, a flicker of angst crossing her face before it was gone. ‘I’d like to keep it. I... I don’t know anything beyond that, but I’d like to.’

  ‘Me, too,’ he said softly. Unexpectedly. He had never thought he would be in this situation, so any answer he gave would have been unexpected. But wanting this child? He needed a moment to process because he did. He wanted this child.

  ‘Look, I know things are...weird between us, but this child is going to need us. Both of us. We need to give them the best that we can, and we’ll need to work together.’ She moved away from him, clutching her handbag closer to herself. ‘I can put my feelings aside so our child can have the kind of parents and family we didn’t.’

  He should have thought about that. About being a parent, about his parents, about himself. He didn’t want his child to have the same life he had. He wanted better for them.

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘I know.’ Her lips curved into a small smile. ‘Why don’t we take the day to...process? We can meet tomorrow morning to talk about things.’

  He nodded again.

  ‘I’ll send you a message with the details,’ she said. Then she was gone. As if she’d never been there at all.