Contract for Marriage

by Barbara Deleo

  Her lips dried but she forced the words out. “And what’s that?”

  “The first person to leave forfeits their share.” He picked up a suitcase in each hand. “If you’re staying, Ruby, then you can bet I’m staying too.”

  Chapter Two

  Wet blonde hair hung like a heavy veil down Ruby’s back, her luscious curves hidden beneath the towel. The white bikini top cradled perfect breasts, but everything else was sheathed tight.

  Lifting her chin, she spoke slowly, her voice hollow. “You are not staying here.”

  Christo pulled his gaze to her shadowed face and focused on the tempting bow of her lips. “It’s not an ideal situation, granted,” he said. “But I’m sure you can appreciate that I’d be foolish to void my claim from the outset.”

  The delicate skin on her cheeks paled. “You mean I can’t move out while this is sorted or I’ll have no claim either?”

  “Exactly.”

  She frowned and shook her head. It was unfortunate he had to do this now, only days after Antonia’s funeral, but he had no choice. Either he staked his claim or he’d lose this place, and he wouldn’t let that happen. He’d failed to show strength, to fight for his rights here once before. Never again.

  He could’ve bought his mother her choice of a dozen houses, one or two even grander than the Fleming Estate, but this was where she was happy. And, as his mother wasn’t interested in his money, it was all he had to offer her.

  Chemotherapy as a teenager had denied him the chance to provide her with a grandchild, and her unspoken sorrow that she would never be a grandmother fired his determination to provide her some happiness in her autumn years. It might only be bricks and mortar to him, but this house was where his mother belonged and where she’d be looked after for the rest of her life. Ruby didn’t really want the house. She’d settled in the States. This was an act to spite him, just as she’d refused to stand up for him all those years ago. Ruby’s parting shot then that she’d just been using him lent the final evidence for that. She’d been lying about the way she felt about him all along just to shock her father.

  She wouldn’t dictate his family’s life again. Nobody would. Ever.

  He picked up his luggage and nodded toward the house. “After you.”

  Ruby stood rigid. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow? Until I’ve had a chance to speak to my mother’s lawyer?” She folded her arms, pushing her breasts higher so that the delicate silver links of her necklace disappeared into the dip she created. “Until I’ve spoken to my lawyer.”

  “I’m not prepared to take the risk that my failure to move in tonight might jeopardize my claim. Are you?”

  Her nostrils moved and as her chest rose, the necklace disappeared further. “No.”

  Glancing around the vast grounds, he shrugged a shoulder. “At the very least, you won’t have to stay here on your own.”

  A rush of air escaped her parted lips. “I’ve been living on my own in one of the busiest cities in the world. I can manage.” She shot him a look, but when he caught the flash in her fiery eyes, he only smiled. Indignant, she pulled the towel tighter and walked into the house as he followed.

  The sight in front of him caused blood to pump harder through his body—her bottom swaying beneath the towel, the delicate dip of skin between her shoulder blades as she walked. Seeing her half naked after ten years caused an unexpectedly intense memory of making love to her in the past, until the result of that lovemaking had slammed into him. Losing focus when he was around Ruby Fleming caused chaos and destruction in his own life and the lives of the people he held dear. He’d always prioritize that memory over the first.

  They reached the cavernous entrance hall and he turned to her. “When you’ve changed, we’ll talk.” Goose bumps traveled over her skin. “I presume you’re in an upstairs suite so I’ll take the rooms in the new extension.”

  She chewed her lip. “Which new rooms?”

  He tilted his head to see her face better. “Antonia had a new suite built. The decorating isn’t complete yet, but I believe it’s habitable. She wanted my mother to move in when her arthritis made it difficult to manage in the housekeeper’s apartment. You haven’t seen it?”

  A shadow passed across Ruby’s face. He knew she hadn’t been back often, but the fact she hadn’t even discussed this with her mother surprised him. Maybe she’d told the truth when she’d said she knew nothing about the will. Antonia had obviously never revealed any of the secrets she’d kept from Ruby, not the least that she’d been blackmailed by Ruby’s father.

  “No, I haven’t seen it. I only arrived in New Zealand the day before the funeral, and I couldn’t stay here because there was no one to let me in.” The satiny skin at her throat became tight with a swallow, and he considered how it might feel should he brush a finger there. “My first chance to arrange a locksmith was this afternoon,” she said. “If you know about new rooms then by all means go ahead.” She waved a hand toward the downstairs wing and began to climb the stairs. “I’m getting changed.”

  He watched her go, appreciating the sway of her hips as she ascended, her bare feet reaching for each new step. After the lesson she’d taught him when they were young, he might know her for who and what she was, but there was no denying one thing—she still made his body burn.

  When he’d deposited his luggage and showered, Christo headed to the wine cellar and chose a vintage Pinot Noir. It had been a long day, a few long days in a row, since he’d boarded his jet in Athens and flown virtually non-stop to arrive here.

  His muscles sagged. If he didn’t relax before going to bed he’d never kick the jet lag, and the focus he needed for this transaction could be compromised. He’d missed the funeral, unfortunately. It would’ve been good to pay Antonia the respect she deserved, but at least he was here now to claim the house, as she would’ve wanted.

  It wouldn’t take him long to persuade Ruby to part with her share. By all accounts, she had a hectic life in publishing in the States. She’d probably put up a little fight for old times’ sake, but she’d give in and see logic eventually. No reason why he couldn’t enjoy a little challenge on the way to achieving his goal—the way her eyes blazed in indignation each time his logic rattled her was mesmerizing.

  He heard her footsteps on the stairs and removed another glass from the shelf in the kitchen.

  “Glass of red?” He swung his gaze in her direction and tried to deflect the sucker punch that seized his insides when he saw her.

  A turquoise dress, tight around her generous breasts, flowed out across her body, hardly hinting at her shape beneath. Her blonde hair curled loose and wild around her shoulders except for a strand tucked behind a perfect ear hung with a simple gold hoop. Standing straight on heels with her bag over her shoulder, her skin was honeyed bronze from her Italian mother, her irises sparkling cobalt blue from her father. She took his breath away.

  Christo shook himself.

  Focus.

  He didn’t do weak. Wouldn’t let this loss of attention, this slip in control when he was around Ruby, happen again. It was his untamed physical reaction to her that had clouded his judgment in the past and led to disaster for him and his mother. Ruby Fleming had been his Achilles heel, but he was a different man now. A man whose determination to win at all costs had been galvanized by her father’s humiliating decree, and Ruby’s bare-faced refusal to stand up for him. When she’d angrily followed him after her father’s allegations, she’d shouted at him, accusing him of using her to climb some social ladder. “I was convenient for you?” she’d cried. “Well guess what? You were convenient for me too. I wanted to shock Dad, show him I wasn’t his little girl anymore. I think it worked, don’t you?”

  Yes, it was weakness that had caused him to believe Ruby’s feelings for him were genuine. Trusting her had been his biggest mistake.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Her chin nudged a fraction higher and her glossy lips parted. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’ve l
eft a message for my lawyer in New York. As soon as she wakes I’m sure she’ll have something to say about your claims.”

  He held up the glass and responded to her jibe with a slow smile. “This is what we’ve been drinking for Sunday lunches. It’s from one of my vineyards in Central Otago. Earthy.”

  “Sunday lunches?” She rolled a lip between her teeth as her eyebrows rose. “Here?”

  Relaxing against the marble counter, he nodded. “My mother was worried Antonia wasn’t eating enough so she cooked Greek lamb and potatoes every Sunday.”

  “Oh.”

  At the lost look on her face he paused, but if she was to understand her mother’s will she needed to know the reality about the people she left behind. “Antonia invited me along one Sunday shortly after your father died and it became a tradition for the three of us. There’s plenty more where this came from.” He cleared his throat and lounged further against the counter. “You’re going out?”

  She tilted her chin a fraction. “Yes.”

  “Where?” He took a mouthful of wine and let the liquid warm on his tongue.

  Her jaw moved side to side before she spoke, and her fingers curled around the strap of her bag. “My uncle’s restaurant.”

  “Ah, Lorenzo has a great reputation in town. Felice is a fine establishment.”

  Her voice was thin as her cheeks blanched. “You know my uncle? He didn’t get on with my father so he never came to the house when we were young….” When he didn’t reply she paused. “He insisted that he cook for me tonight and I don’t have the stomach for staying in.”

  Holding his gaze, he lowered his voice. “You realize that if you go out alone now you’ll forfeit your claim on the house.”

  Her mouth parted and the tip of her tongue dampened her lips. “I’ll only be an hour or two. It’s important. It’s family.”

  Passing her the glass of wine, he spoke smoothly. “The conditions of the will dictate that the person remaining here wins the house outright. Technically, I’ll be here, and you will have left, possibly for good. If we’re both out, no problem. Both in, no problem. But if you choose to go out on your own tonight, you’ve left. And I’ll have sent your luggage after you.” He shrugged. “You won’t have a claim.”

  A soft sound left Ruby’s lips. “Surely such a ridiculous rule would be thrown out in court.”

  “Possibly.” He watched a rose blush sweep up her neck. “But I’d be prepared to fight through those courts. Appeal if I had to. I’m sure you wouldn’t want your hard-earned money squandered over something so easily avoided.”

  Ruby shook her head and blond ringlets brushed her skin. “Why? Why would Mum make that a requirement?”

  He leaned harder against the counter and trained his gaze on the bloom of her cheeks. “Your mother couldn’t give me the house outright, Ruby. She wanted you to benefit financially from its sale, but she wanted to ensure I had first option over it for my mother. You’d made it clear you had no desire to return to New Zealand, and she didn’t want to see the house slip into the hands of strangers.”

  She swung her gaze to his face and something kicked in his chest. She looked lost and vulnerable, and part of him wanted to help her understand what had obviously come as an enormous shock. “Having this condition means you have to stay and see this through. Negotiate. We both do.”

  Ruby shook her head again, her tone distant as she pushed the wine glass back toward him, untouched. “Thank you, but I’m sure it’ll all be cleared up after I speak to my lawyer in the morning. In the meantime, you can go and we can simply say you were here all night. No one needs to know.”

  He slung a hand in his pants pocket. He’d have to trust her for that to work, something he was unwilling to do. She’d used him once. Never again.

  It might seem harsh to push her on this first night, but he couldn’t let the opportunity go when he’d come so close to getting what he must have. “Ruby, you’re forgetting that I need this property. I won’t gamble on half-baked ideas or lies. I’ll do what it takes to win. And that means sleeping under this roof, starting tonight.”

  She pulled her shoulders back. “This house has been passed down my father’s line and should’ve come to his only child. I’ll appeal. Surely I can appeal and have you thrown out.”

  He scraped a hand across his chin, and the pink smudge on her cheeks deepened. “Ah, yes, have me thrown out. I suppose you could. But that’s what got us here in the first place, isn’t it?”

  Did she remember the night his father had caught them making love? Did she ever wonder what it was like for him to be banished from his home? The sense of failure he would never let himself experience again?

  Cancer had been a tough battle for a teenager, as was living a life without a father, but what Ruby had done to him, the way she’d failed to stand by him when her father had ordered him out, then claimed that making love to him had all been an act to shock, had been the greatest lesson of his life. Only the strong survive. He’d never let himself be anything but strong or successful since.

  Dismay swept across her face at mention of their past before she hurriedly glanced at her wrist, and color returned to her bleached cheeks. Christo dipped to hear her words. “My uncle’s expecting me.”

  He leaned back and took another mouthful of wine, swirled it in his mouth, and swallowed. “Go to him, of course. It’s important you’re with family now. But I can’t let you lose so easily. It wouldn’t be fair.” He paused as he watched her face change. “I’ll come with you so neither of us wins this round.” He threw her a lazy smile. “I’m hungry anyway.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Something dislodged in his chest. This wasn’t pleasant, wasn’t fun. Of all people, he didn’t like having to ask Ruby Fleming for something. That she thought he was enjoying it cut deep. She obviously knew nothing of his heart and mind. And why would she, when every one of her whispered words back then had been as empty as her heart the day he left?

  She swung her bag over her shoulder, then met his gaze and swallowed slowly. “If there’s no other way, then you’ll need to come with me. But this crazy arrangement will be sorted out tomorrow and then we’ll both be free. Whatever she meant, I’m certain Mum didn’t intend for me to be imprisoned here.”

  His mouth pulled in a grim smile. “Sorting things tomorrow is fine by me.”

  Ruby was determined to fight this, but until she came to see that she didn’t need this house, that in letting it go she could move on with her life and let go of her past, he’d be staying right here. Enjoying the sight of her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  …

  “Are you cold? I’ll put the hard top up.” Christo’s husky voice traveled the small distance between them in the convertible, but Ruby kept her eyes trained on the diamond flash of city lights. Ahead lay Auckland Harbor, and, on its edges, her uncle’s restaurant. The evening breeze tugged at her hair, flicking it about her shoulders—and accentuated the intoxicating scent of Christo so close.

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.” She rubbed her arms, elbows tight against her body. It was time she told him about her baby, about why he couldn’t buy her out of her heritage. He wouldn’t be the first to know, though. She couldn’t allow that. She was only fifteen weeks along and had been waiting to tell her mother, praying it would be the beginning of a new relationship for them.

  Placing her palm lightly on her belly, she resolved to tell her aunt and uncle, her only remaining family, before she told Christo and then this nightmare would be over. Given their past he might be motivated to fight her, but he wouldn’t deny her precious baby its heritage. Her heart was heavy. It would mean Stella would need to move out, but Christo wouldn’t hear of an alternative solution.

  A headache bit deep behind her eyes. All she wanted was to curl up in her own bed and sleep. Or sob. For the mother she’d lost, for the baby she’d do anything to protect.

  “Strange being back?” His voice carri
ed across the breeze.

  Turning her head, she let her gaze flit across his brooding profile.

  Stranger than he could imagine. Being so close to him, as a woman now instead of the teenager he’d known. She shifted against the warm leather cushioning her skin as dark and delicious memories flared within. The sultry evening he’d drawn her into his arms before making love to her in the summerhouse, the heights he’d taken her to. She moistened her lips. “A little. Even though I’ve been in New York, I only travel a small area between my apartment and work. Somehow I’d forgotten the way everything’s so spread out here.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up, white teeth flashing in the muted blue light from the dashboard. “Auckland’s very small. A village compared to where you’ve come from.”

  Her gaze moved to his hands gripping the sleek steering wheel. Expensive European cars were common enough in New York, but she didn’t often ride in one. What had he been doing to become so successful? The car, the Rolex, the vineyards, the offer for her half of the house at three times the value. He’d obviously been rewarded well for something.

  He turned the car into the parking lot outside her uncle’s restaurant, raised the hard roof, and killed the engine. All air in the car seemed to be sucked out and her chest tightened. She reached for her seatbelt, but he stayed still, the power of his rigid body humming in the close air. Curious, she twisted back to see why he wasn’t moving.

  “I would’ve come to the funeral, Ruby. If I’d known in time.” His tone was low and smoky. “I always did what I could for Antonia.” His fist stayed curled around the hand brake, inches from her thigh, and she took a moment to steady herself at the tenderness of his tone. He’d cared for her mother. She’d always known that.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t have more notice. The executor of the estate made the funeral arrangements as I was traveling back. I didn’t think to ask him to contact you, and I didn’t know your mother was in Greece.” Her throat constricted, chest hollow as she looked up to his face. His look unhinged her.