Contract for Marriage

by Barbara Deleo

  Grief painted his features before he seemed to pull himself together, and his sadness at her mother’s death was buried again. “If we can work this out between us, I’d prefer it,” he said.

  “You don’t want lawyers involved?” She shifted in her seat. Maybe they could resolve this without too much trouble.

  “Lawyers and I don’t always see eye to eye, but it’s not that.” Unlocked resentment seethed beneath his smooth surface.

  She clutched her hands in her lap. “There’s something I need to tell you that’ll change your mind about claiming the house. I need to talk to my uncle and aunt about it first, but we won’t need lawyers.”

  For a second, a muscle jumped at his jaw before he turned his charcoal stare to her. “Nothing you say will stop me claiming my mother’s home. We’ll finalize it sooner rather than later.”

  She bit down on her lip. There was no point discussing it now—not until he had all the facts. He’d know tomorrow. Surely he’d stop fighting her then?

  He leaned an elbow on the window frame, his jaw tipped higher. “I’d prefer to get this resolved before certain people get wind of it.”

  Did he have a girlfriend he was sheltering from this situation? Ruby knew nothing about this Christo—he could have a wife for all she knew. Before she could help herself, she asked, “Certain people?”

  He gripped the steering wheel. “The media. I’ve a strict policy of keeping my private life private, and there are too many people depending on me for their livelihoods for my business to be rocked by ill-informed gossip. I won’t have photographers camping out on our doorstep, finding scandal where there isn’t any. You can be sure if lawyers are involved some Personal Assistant will talk to some executive and it’ll be all over the city.”

  Our doorstep. He’d said the words as naturally as if he’d said he’d wanted a cup of coffee.

  A thorn of curiosity buried itself in her mind. “Why would the media be interested in you?” Had he been in scandals or relationships with high profile women? Or was his success linked to something public?

  “I have deals in the pipeline. Contracts that can’t be jeopardized. Important engagements I can’t miss, organizations that depend on my reputation for their success. This needs to be resolved as soon as possible so we’re both free to get on with our lives, and my mother can move back to her home.”

  She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “And you won’t be free to do those things when you’re stuck in the house with me.”

  “Exactly—and you need to return to New York. It makes sense that after you’ve spoken to your mother’s lawyer tomorrow we’ll resolve this.”

  A noisy group of people walked past the car and headed into the restaurant, Italian music playing louder and then softer as they opened and shut the large oak door. By the number of tables on the seaward balcony, her uncle Lorenzo certainly seemed to be doing well. The last she’d heard, his business had been floundering, so it was nice to see someone in her family finding some joy in life.

  Thinking about her uncle and his love for food and good company called up an image of Christo’s mother. The sweet, warm memory of Stella Mantazis’s cuddles, her comforting food and her gently scolding tongue drifted around Ruby like a whisper. “Does your mother know what you’re doing?” She couldn’t imagine Stella demanding that Christo fight her for the house. It wasn’t in her nature.

  “No.” He glanced away and back to her again, his face a stony mask. “She’d only want to live in the house if she truly believed you didn’t want it.”

  Ruby clutched her hands tighter and took a deeper breath. “But if she were to live there with me the way she’s always done… Stella will understand why I have to keep the house. She understands about love and memories. When I speak to her—”

  Every muscle in Christo’s body seemed to jump to attention and the air between them arced. “You will not speak to my mother, Ruby.”

  The beat of blood grew stronger in her tightly laced fingers, and she strained across the darkened space to read him. “Why not?”

  “My mother won’t know any of this. From anyone.” His words, short and sharp like bullets, peppered her skin. “As far as she’s concerned this will be her house outright, you’ll have no interest in it at all. I won’t have her working anymore, or staying with you as little more than a charity case. We’ll sign an agreement, and you’ll leave without seeing her.”

  Ruby reached for her bag with a trembling hand. He might be comfortable telling other people what to do, but he would not speak to her that way. Struggling to keep her voice steady, she twisted around and fixed him with a stare. “Right now I’m going to have a meal with the only remaining members of my family. Join me if you wish, but do not order me around.”

  Grabbing the handle, she wrenched the door open and stepped out of the car. As she made her way across the parking lot, the slam of his door and the beat of his footfalls thudded behind her. In seconds he was beside her and she turned her face to him.

  “I don’t get it, Ruby.” His voice was low and sexy. “You’ve lived in another country for years. You rarely, if ever, visit here. You’ve flicked off your past as if it were an irritation. Why not take my money and go, get back to your life in the States without any fuss?”

  She was bursting to tell him the reason, to explain everything, but she desperately wanted the first people to hear about her baby to be family. Family members who were on the other side of that door.

  She dampened her dry lips. “Can we wait a few more minutes to have this conversation? Let me speak to my uncle first.”

  He surveyed her for a moment, then inclined his head and opened the door for her.

  Chapter Three

  From across the restaurant, her uncle Lorenzo spotted Ruby and came hurrying over, his pink face beaming. Her knees weakened at the sight of someone who loved her, someone who cared about what she was going through, and the emotion of the last few weeks surged in her chest. She couldn’t wait to tell Lorenzo he was going to be a great uncle.

  Throwing his arms wide, Lorenzo’s face broke into a smile, his bushy gray eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Ruby, sweetheart, come through. We must be together tonight and remember your beautiful mother, God rest her soul.” His dark eyes twinkled as he tilted his head to one side. “And Christo! Are you two here together?”

  Suddenly the warm touch of Christo’s hand was on her back and every nerve ending leapt to attention. The promise of that touch was something she’d carried inside her, dreamed about for years, but now it felt secret and full of power, something she didn’t know how to interpret.

  “Wonderful to see you, Christo,” Lorenzo said. “I was hoping you’d come by this month and see how well the new kitchen’s operating. You were right. It was better to go with the triple ventilation system. It works perfectly with those Italian ovens you imported.”

  The ground shifted beneath her feet, and Ruby stepped out of Christo’s touch. As the two men chatted like old friends, her head swirled. Not only had Christo spent God knows how many months manipulating her mother into giving him a share of the house, it seemed he’d infiltrated the rest of her family too. What was his game? Was it the house he wanted, or did he have some plan of revenge against her?

  “This is the savior of Felice.” Lorenzo thumped Christo on the back while Ruby steadied herself. “He rescued us from our darkest hour! And for that he gets free Parmigiana for the rest of his life! Come, you two. I’ll find you the best table in the house.”

  “Uncle Lorenzo,” she said with a staying hand on his arm. “There’s something I need to tell you. Is Aunt Maria here?”

  “Your aunt and cousins will drop by later, my love. Now you need to eat. There will be plenty of time for talk.” He held her hand and began moving.

  Heart falling, Ruby followed her uncle across the restaurant, weaving among tables bursting with happy people.

  She’d been so focused on telling her family about the pregnancy and finding s
ome joy on the day she’d been confronted by the terms of the will. Yet first she’d have to sit through a meal with Christo, a man who surprised her at every turn. A man she couldn’t trust. Would the news of her pregnancy be enough to deter him? If he’d charmed his way this deep, this ruthlessly into her family, where would he stop?

  They arrived at a table overlooking ships and yachts in the harbor, and Lorenzo pulled her into a tight hug. “Little Ruby. Oh, little Ruby, we’ve missed you, and now that your mama’s gone you must come back and be with people who love you.”

  Ruby clung to her mother’s brother and she trembled. No one really knew the reason she’d stayed away. Only she’d known of her mother’s secret long-term affair that had caused her family to implode. Although it was too late to forgive her mum to her face, she’d done it in her heart. The release of disappointment and hurt was like manacles being liberated from her soul. A week too late.

  So much in her future now depended upon reclaiming the identity she lost when she left this city. Her home. To be the best mother she could be to the life inside her, Ruby owed it to herself and to her baby to stay away from the influences that had robbed her of her self-worth then. Influences like Christo Mantazis’s deception.

  Lifting lashes heavy with tears, she saw Christo watching her, the creases at the edge of his mouth deeper, his hand resting on a chair.

  “The house specialty for you two tonight,” Lorenzo said as he stepped away and rubbed his black chef’s jacket sleeve across his eyes. “I’ll send Giancarlo over with some Mantazis wine to get you started.”

  Christo held out her chair and she sat, pulling every muscle tight and swallowing away more tears. She watched him as he nodded to people at a number of different tables, folded himself into a chair, and laid the crisp white napkin across his knees.

  Her fingers curled around a cool water glass and she waited until he looked at her. “What’s going on, Christo?”

  He turned toward the bar, lifted his chin to a waiter, then swung his attention back to her. “Going on?”

  “Why are you so hand in glove with Lorenzo? Did you think pulling the whole of my family into the trap to gain the house would work? Lorenzo and Maria want me to come back to New Zealand. You heard him.” She glanced over to the kitchen door where her uncle had disappeared. “They’ll be shocked to learn what Mum’s done, what you’re trying to do.”

  He rested an elbow on the tablecloth and paused before touching two fingers to his lips, riveting her with his stare. “Your uncle Lorenzo’s gambling was out of hand. He could’ve lost the restaurant, his house, your cousins’ university funds… I bought the building and renovated the restaurant, that’s all. He pulled himself out of debt with the quality of his cooking.”

  She scanned the crowded dining room for her beloved aunt and cousins before letting her gaze settle back on his face. She didn’t want to believe what Christo had said, but in her heart she knew he was telling the truth. Lorenzo had always liked to take risks. “He was in that much trouble? It was good of you to help out.”

  He didn’t acknowledge the praise, merely held her gaze, the flickering light of the candle intensifying the spark in his stare.

  Her lips touched her glass, the cool condensation soothing the hot tangle of confusion inside. “But why you? For someone in my family?” Christo despised her family for the way her father had refused to ever allow him back in the house.

  He shrugged in an uncaring, what-does-it-matter way. “I like Italian food.”

  Pausing, she sucked in her cheeks, and was captivated by the flickering heat from his stare. “Why, Christo? I need to know.” Her heart dropped. “Is this about revenge? Proving a point? Is your pride still so pricked from my father sending you away that you have to fight me now?”

  His gaze intensified at the accusation. “Your uncle was good to me once. When I’d been forbidden to set foot back in my home, Lorenzo would let my mother and me sit in his restaurant for hours, drinking free coffee and catching up in a way we never could in our home again. After the way I’d been treated, I appreciated it.”

  A picture reel of those stolen moments whirled through her head as she shifted the napkin on her knee. What must it have been like for him, arranging secret meetings with his mother, miles from the only home he’d known? She thought of being separated from her own baby and her chest ached. She stroked the soft fabric across her belly. Yet Christo had created the situation that had led to his estrangement from the Fleming Estate. He’d denied it back then, when she’d gone after him and asked if he’d been with other women, if he was only with her because of who she was.

  When you’re ready to explain yourself, I’ll be waiting, she’d said as he hurried from the house. When he didn’t look back she’d wanted to hurt him too and said she’d only been using him to shock her father. Still he’d kept on walking.

  He hadn’t come to find her until today. And although the sting of his silence then had lessened over the years, the pain she’d felt at his refusal to explain himself, to stay and face the consequences of his actions, was still within reach.

  But why would her uncle have offered him some refuge? An unsavory thought unraveled in her mind, and her pulse began to drum at her temples. “Did my mother arrange for you to meet at her brother’s restaurant all those years ago?”

  He didn’t flinch. “Yes. And we were grateful for it. My mother never forgot the support Antonia gave us, which was why my mother would do anything for her. And why Antonia would hate to think of you denying my mother her home now.”

  Her jaw clenched as disappointment and hurt filled her throat. If her mother had wanted to support Christo like that, after what he’d done…

  Her death grip on the napkin resting on her lap eased and she sat carefully back. That episode in her life was all behind her now—all the pain both her mother and Christo had caused. Still, she couldn’t help but dig deeper.

  “Did Mum ask you to help Lorenzo later?”

  He leaned back in his chair and spoke with steely confidence again. “Your mother was distressed that her only family left here was falling apart. Before he died, your father screwed down every income stream, so she had very little. She couldn’t offer Lorenzo assistance. I was happy to help after everything she’d done for me.”

  She shook her head, trying to make sense of everything she’d learned today. “My mother had no access to her own money? Why would Dad do that?”

  The waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and Ruby watched as he poured a small measure of the velvet red liquid into Christo’s glass. As if valuing an ancient piece of art, Christo regarded the wine, swirled it in the enormous bowl, then bowed his head and inhaled.

  A shock of unbidden desire flooded her. His glossy black hair, the seductive set of broad shoulders. So much about him hadn’t changed. He’d taken as much care over her once—his slow, searching fingers and long, languorous kisses. She sat back quickly in her chair as her body thrummed.

  With a sharp nod, he spoke to the waiter. “Fine. My North Island winemakers outdid themselves with that vintage. Some for my companion. I’m driving.”

  Another waiter arrived and placed a selection of tiny treats in front of them, and the aroma of garlic and herbs made her remember she hadn’t eaten since lunch. There was a precious little life depending on her making the right choices now, to nourish her mind and her body. She picked up a delicate piece of toasted bread topped with a slice of deep red tomato and put it to her lips.

  “So,” Christo said, not moving for the food but focusing directly on her. “Why have you been away so long?”

  She bit down, but not even the rich flavors could distract her from the intensity of his stare. When she’d finished chewing, she brushed her fingers on her napkin. “I’ve had a good career in magazine publishing. Plenty of opportunities. I’ve been very lucky.”

  “You weren’t hiding from anything?” His voice held deceptive casualness.

  She took a sip of water, hoping he w
ouldn’t notice she hadn’t touched the wine. “What do you mean?”

  “You weren’t avoiding me or your mother?”

  Biting her lip, she swallowed again. He wouldn’t slip under her skin that easily. “Christo, I left here when I was eighteen. If I was to think of you while I was away, it would’ve been to thank someone for making me understand your real intentions toward me.” If she’d never discovered his duplicity, she could’ve ended up married to this man, thinking he was as deeply in love with her as she was with him, yet all the time being played for a fool.

  “Someone like your father?”

  She tensed at his tone. At his implied criticism. “At least someone was looking out for me back then. Telling me the truth.”

  His ebony stare flamed. “I was looking out for you.”

  Heat poured into her cheeks at the sensuality and power in his voice, and she turned her head as the woman at the next table made a loud noise.

  “Ah, Christo!” The woman scraped her chair back on the wooden floor and glided to the table. A voluminous silk sleeve flicked Ruby in the face as Christo stood and the woman leaned in to be kissed on both cheeks.

  “Marguerite. What a surprise.” His voice was low and measured.

  Ruby glanced at the woman’s companion at the next table. It was as if a thundercloud had rolled across his features.

  Christo gestured to Ruby. “May I introduce—”

  “We’re so delighted you’ve agreed to appear at the charity ball on Friday.” She spoke in syrup-coated tones over his introduction. “It’s much more than we’d hoped for.”

  Christo pulled at the cuff of his cream shirt, his spine arrow-straight. “My PA, Patrice, deals with the details. I’ll do what I can.”

  The woman leaned a little closer to him, her hip blocking Ruby as if she were some unpleasant table decoration. “I will look forward to it, as will the other girls on the committee. We were only saying the other day how marvelous it was to see you in the society pages last week doing what you do so well.” Ruby shifted in her seat and saw Christo lean back as the woman dragged the tip of a meaty tongue across her full, top lip.