More than a Convenient Marriage?

by Dani Collins

  A wrecking ball hit him in the middle of his chest. “He hit you?”

  Her silence and embarrassed bite of her lip spoke volumes.

  His torso felt as if it split open and his teeth clenched so hard he thought they’d crack. His scalp prickled and his blood turned to battery acid.

  “I didn’t ask again,” she said in her quick, sweep-it-under-the-rug way. “I didn’t let the boys say his name. I let it go. I learned to let a lot of things go.”

  Like equal rights. Like bad decisions with the hotel chain that were only now being repaired after her father was dead. Like the fact that her brothers were still boys because they’d been raised by a child: her.

  Gideon had seen the dysfunction, the alcoholic mother and the overbearing father, the youngest son who earned his father’s criticism, and the older children who hadn’t, but received plenty of it anyway. Adara had always managed the volatile dynamics with equanimity, so Gideon hadn’t tried to stir up change. If he had suspected physical abuse was the underbelly of it all...

  His fist clenched. “You should have told me,” he said.

  Another slicing glance repeated the obvious. We don’t talk.

  His guts turned to water. No, they didn’t and because of that he’d let her down. If there was one thing his wife had never asked of Gideon, but that he’d regarded as his sacred duty, it was his responsibility to protect her. Adara was average height and kept herself toned and in good shape, but she was undeniably female. Her bones were smaller, her muscles not as thick as a man’s. She was preordained by nature to be vulnerable to a male’s greater strength. Given what had happened to his own mother, he’d lay down his life for any woman, especially one who depended on him.

  “At any time since I’ve known you,” he forced himself to ask, “did he—”

  “No,” she answered bluntly, but her tone was tired. “I learned, Gideon.”

  It wasn’t any sort of comfort.

  How had he not seen this? He’d always assumed she was reserved because she had been raised by strict parents. She was ambitious and focused on material gain because most immigrant families to America were. He was.

  And compliant? Well, it was just her nature.

  But no, it was because she had been abused.

  He couldn’t help staring at her, reeling in disbelief. Not disbelieving she had been mistreated, but that he hadn’t known. What else did he not know about her? he wondered uneasily.

  Adara forced herself to eat as though nothing was wrong, even though Gideon’s X-ray stare made her so nervous she felt as if her bones were developing radiation blisters. Why had she told him? And why did it upset her that he knew what she’d taken such pains to hide from the entire world? She had nothing to be ashamed of. Her father’s abuse wasn’t her fault.

  Sharing her past made her squirm all the same. It was such a dark secret. So close to the heart. Shameful because she had never taken action against her father, trying instead to do everything in her power to keep what remained of her family intact. And she’d been so young.

  Her eyebrows were trying to pull into a worried frown. She habitually noted the tension and concentrated on relaxing her facial muscles, hiding her turmoil. Taking a subtle breath, she begged the constriction in her throat to ease.

  “He went by his father’s name,” she told Gideon, taking up the subject of her brother as the less volatile one and using it to distract his intense focus from her. “I found his blogs at one point, but since he had never tried to contact us I didn’t know if he’d want to hear from me. I couldn’t reach out anyway,” she dismissed with a shrug. “Not while my father was alive.” She had feared, quite genuinely, that he would kill her. “But as soon as Papa died, I started thinking about coming here.”

  “But never told me.”

  She flinched, always sensitive to censure.

  Her reaction earned a short sigh.

  She wasn’t going to state the obvious again though, and it wasn’t as if she was laying blame. The fact they didn’t talk was as much her fault as his, she knew that. Talking about personal things was difficult for her. She’d grown up in silence, never acknowledging the unpleasant, always avoiding points of conflict so they didn’t escalate into physical altercations. Out of self-defense she had turned into a thinker who never revealed what she wanted until she had pondered the best approach and was sure she could get it without raising waves.

  “I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here, not even my brothers. I didn’t want anyone talking me out of it.” It was a thin line in the sand. She wouldn’t be persuaded to leave until she’d seen her brother. She needed Gideon to recognize that.

  He didn’t argue and they finished their meals with a thick cloud of tension between them. The bouzouki music from the speakers sounded overly loud as sultry heat layered the hot air into claustrophobic blankets around them.

  The minute the server removed their plates, Adara stood and gathered her things, grasping at a chance to draw a full breath. “Thank you for lunch. Goodbye, Gideon.”

  His hand snaked out to fasten around her wrist.

  Her heart gave a thump, his touch always making her pulse leap. She glared at the strong, sun-browned fingers. It wasn’t a hard grip. It was warm and familiar and she hated herself for liking it. That gave her the strength to say what she had to.

  “Will you contact Halbert or shall I?” She ignored the spear of anguish that pierced her as she mentioned their lawyer’s name.

  “I fired Lexi.”

  “Really.” She gave her best attempt at blithe lack of interest, but her arteries constricted so each beat of her heart was like a hammer blow inside her.

  He shifted his grip ever so slightly, lining up his fingertips on her wrist, no doubt able to feel the way her pulse became ferocious and strong. Not that he gave anything away. His fiercely handsome features were as watchful as a predator’s, his eyes hidden behind his mirrored aviators.

  “She had no right to speak to you as she did.” His assertive tone came across as almost protective. “Implying things that weren’t true. I haven’t cheated on you, Adara. There’s no reason for us to divorce.”

  As a spasm of agitated panic ran through her, Adara realized she’d grasped Lexi as a timely excuse. Thoughts of divorce had been floating through her mind for weeks, maybe even from the day she had realized she was pregnant again. If I lose this one, I’ll leave him and never have to go through this again.

  “Actually, Gideon,” she said with a jagged edge to her hushed voice, “there’s no reason for us to stay married. Let me go, please.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  NO REASON TO stay married?

  Gideon’s head nearly exploded as Adara walked away. How about the luxury cruise ship they were launching next year? The ultimate merger of his shipbuilding corporation and her hotel chain, it wasn’t just a crown jewel for both entities, it was a tying together of the two enterprises in a way that wouldn’t be easy to untangle. They couldn’t divorce at this stage of that project.

  Gideon hung back to scratch his name on the bill while tension flooded back into him, returning him to a state of deep aggravation. Neither of them had cheated, but she still wanted a divorce. Why? Did she not believe him?

  It was too hot to race after her, and his stride was long enough that he closed in easily as she climbed the road behind the marina shops. Resentment that he was following her at all filled him with gall. He was not a man who chased after women begging for another chance. He didn’t have to.

  But the fact that Adara saw no reason to continue their marriage gave him a deep sense of ignorance. They had ample financial reasons. What else did she want from the union? More communication? Fine, they could start talking.

  Even as he considered it, however, resistance rose in him. And at that exact moment, as he’d almost
caught up to Adara, the stench of rotting garbage came up off a restaurant Dumpster, carried on a breeze flavored with the dank smells of the marina: tidal flats, diesel exhaust and fried foods. It put him squarely back in his childhood, searching for a safe place to sleep while his mother worked the docks in Athens.

  Adara didn’t even know who she was married to. Divorce would mean court papers, identification, paparazzi... Marrying under an assumed name had been tricky enough and he lived a much higher profile now. He couldn’t risk divorce. But if he wasn’t legally married to her, did he have a right to keep her tied to him?

  His clothes began to feel tight. “Adara, you’ll get sunstroke. Come back to the hotel,” he ordered.

  She seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice. Pausing, she turned to face him, her defensive tension obvious in her stiff posture.

  “Gideon—” She seemed to search for words around her feet, or perhaps she was looking for stones to scare him away. “Look, I’ve taken this time as vacation.” She flicked her thick plait back over her shoulder. “The gardener said my brother will be back in a few days. I’m staying until I meet him. In the meantime, I might as well see the sights. There’s a historical viewpoint up here. You can go back to New York or on to Valparaiso as scheduled. Legal can work out the details. I’m not going to contest anything. Neither of us will be bothered by any of this.”

  Not bothered? He wished. He was shaken to the bone by what she’d revealed, not the least bit comfortable with the fact he’d been so oblivious. It gave him new eyes on her and them and yes, he could see that they’d foundered a bit, but this wasn’t so bad you abandoned ship and let it sink.

  Apparently Adara was prepared to, offering up one of her patented sweep, fold, tuck maneuvers that tidied away all conflicts. Mama’s asking about Christmas. We can take two cars if you like, so you can stay in the city?

  Her accommodating nature was suddenly irritating in the extreme, partly because he knew he should get back to work rather than standing here in the middle of the road in the middle of the Mediterranean watching her walk away. She might have lightened her workload in anticipation of coming here, but he hadn’t. Myriad to-dos ballooned in his mind while ahead of him Adara’s pert backside sashayed up the incline of the deserted street.

  He wasn’t stupid enough to court heat exhaustion to keep a woman, but the reality was only a very dense man would let that beautiful asset walk away from him without at least trying to coax her to stay. Admiring her round butt, he recollected it was the first thing he’d noticed about her before she’d turned around with an expression of cool composure that had assured him she was all calm water and consistent breeze.

  The rest of the pieces had fallen into place like predetermined magic. Their dealings with each other had been simple and straightforward. Adara was untainted by the volatile emotions other women were prone to. Perhaps the smooth sailing of their marriage was something he’d taken for granted, but she must know that he valued it and her.

  Or did she? He was about as good at expressing his feelings as he was at arranging flowers.

  Disquiet nudged at him as he contemplated how to convince her to continue their marriage. He knew how to physically seduce a woman, but emotional persuasion was beyond his knowledge base.

  Why in hell couldn’t they just go back to the way things had been?

  Not fully understanding why he did it, he caught up to her at the viewpoint. It was little more than a crosspiece of weathered wood in dry, trampled grass. A sign in English identified it as a spot from which ships had been sighted during an ancient war. It also warned about legal action should tourists attempt to climb down to the beach below. A sign in Greek cautioned the locals to swim at their own risk.

  Adara shaded her eyes, but he had the sense she was shielding herself from him as much as the sun. Her breasts rose and fell with exertion and her face glowed with light perspiration, but also with mild impatience. She didn’t really give a damn about old ships and history, did she? This was just an excuse to get away from him.

  He experienced a pinch of compunction that he’d never bothered to find out what she gave a damn about. She was quiet. He liked that about her, but it bothered him that he couldn’t tell what she was thinking right now. If he didn’t know what she was thinking, how would he talk her round to his way of thinking?

  Her beauty always distracted him. That was the truth of it. She was oddly youthful today with her face clean of makeup and her hair in pigtails like a schoolgirl, but dressed down or to the nines, she always stirred a twist of possessive desire in his groin.

  That was why he didn’t want a divorce.

  His clamoring libido was a weakness that governed him where she was concerned. The sex had always been good, but not exactly a place where they met as equals. In the beginning he’d been favored with more experience. The leader. He wasn’t hampered by shyness or other emotions that women attached to intimacy. He’d tutored her and loved it.

  Adara had maintained a certain reserve in the bedroom that she had never completely allowed to let slide away, however. While the sex had always been intense and satisfying, the power had subtly shifted over time into her favor. She decided when and how much and if.

  Resentment churned in him, bringing on a scowl. He didn’t like that she was threatening him on so many levels. Yanking the rug on sex was bad enough. Now all that he’d built was on a shaky foundation.

  Why? Did it have to do with her fear of her father? Did she fear him? Blame him? Apprehension kept him from asking.

  And Adara gave no clue to her thoughts, acting preoccupied with reading the signage, ignoring him, aggravating him further.

  She peered over the edge of the steep slope to where a rope was tied to the base of the wooden crosspiece and, without a word, looped the thin strap of her purse over her head and shoulder then maneuvered to the edge of the cliff. Taking up the rope, she clung to it as she began a very steep, backward descent.

  Gideon was taken aback. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She paused. Uncertainty made her bottom lip flinch before she firmed it. “Going swimming.”

  “Like hell you are.” Who was this woman?

  The anxiety that spasmed across her features transitioned through uncertainty before being overcome by quiet defiance. “I always did as I was told because I was scared my father would punish me. Unless you intend to take up controlling my behavior with violence, I’m doing what I want from now on.”

  The pit of his belly was still a hard knot over her revelations about her childhood. He would never hurt her or threaten to and was now even more inclined to treat her with kid gloves. At the same time, everything in him clamored to exert control over her, get what he wanted and put an end to this nonsense. The conflicting feelings, too deep for comfort, left him standing there voicelessly glaring his frustration.

  Despite her bold dare, there was something incredibly vulnerable in her stance of toughness though. An air of quiet desperation surrounded her as tangibly as the hardened determination she was trying to project.

  She wanted to prove something. He didn’t know what it was, but bullying her into going back to the hotel wasn’t the way to find out. It wouldn’t earn him any points toward keeping their marriage intact either.

  “It’s fine, Gideon. You can go,” she said in her self-possessed way. Papa doesn’t think the Paris upgrade is necessary. I’ll find my own way home after our meeting.

  “And leave you to break your neck? No,” he said gruffly.

  The way she angled a look up at him seemed to indicate suspicion. Maybe it was deserved. He was chivalrous, always picked up her heavy bags, but neither of them were demonstrative. Maybe he’d never acted so protective before, but she’d never tried to do anything so perilous.

  “I won’t break my neck,” she dismissed and craned it to watch as she tentativ
ely sought a step backward.

  A completely foreign clench of terror squeezed his lungs. Did she not see how dangerous this was? He skimmed his hand over his sweat-dampened hair.

  “Adara, I won’t hurt you, but I will get physical if you don’t stop right there and at least let me get behind you so I can catch you if you slip.”

  She stared, mouth pursing in mutiny. “I don’t have to ask your permission to live my life, Gideon.” Not anymore, was the silent punctuation to that.

  “Well, I won’t ask your permission to save it. Stay put until I get behind you.”

  He sensed her wariness as he took his time inspecting the rope, approving its marine grade, noting it was fairly new and in good repair, as was the upright it was tied to. Assured they weren’t going to plunge to their deaths, he let his loose grip slide along the rope until his hand met Adara’s.

  She stiffened as he brushed past her, making him clench his teeth. When had his touch become toxic?

  Ask, he chided himself, but things were discordant enough. His assumptions about her were turned on their heads, her predictability completely blown out of the water. He didn’t know what to say or what to expect next, so he picked his way down the slope in grim silence, arriving safely on to the pocket of sand between monolithic gray boulders.

  The tide was receding, but the cove was steep enough it was still a short beach into a deep pool. It was the type of place young lovers would tryst, and his mind immediately turned that way. Adara wasn’t even looking at him, though.

  Adara shrugged against the sting of sweat and the disturbing persistence Gideon was showing. She thought they had an unspoken agreement to back off when things got personal, but even though she’d spilled way more of her family history than she’d ever meant to, he was sticking like humidity.