Contract for Marriage

by Barbara Deleo

  His tone became cooler. “I won’t live in limbo, Ruby.” His gaze flicked to the elevator door as if he was done with this conversation. “As I told you from the start, I have commitments, and this situation will be settled so I can see to them. This impasse won’t be resolved until we’re married.” His chin jutted a little higher as the elevator announced its arrival. He swiveled back to her. “When the wedding is over we’ll discuss New York.”

  Ruby bit back a response for now. This sense of entitlement was just what she’d expected. He was so used to getting his own way, expecting everyone to do what he wanted without compromising himself. He wasn’t going to change his mind here, and she wanted to keep things pleasant today for his mother. She’d find a way to postpone the wedding until after she’d returned from New York, or else she’d just leave. He wanted too much from her now to stand in her way.

  The elevator doors slid open and Christo gestured that she should enter—no hand on her back this time. She watched his implacable profile in the mirrored doors of the elevator and tried to read his thoughts. For Christo, this marriage to her was simply another entry in his diary, another of his chances to make the most of an opportunity, as any good entrepreneur would. And that’s the way she would view it, too. A contract to secure what she needed for herself and her baby.

  The steely set of his shoulders, the uncompromising confidence that always accentuated his features—a small thrill ran through her as she imagined that look on their wedding day. Their wedding night. Yet they’d agreed the wedding night wouldn’t be traditional—they’d retire to separate bedrooms.

  “Your mother is expecting us, isn’t she?” she asked as she flattened her dress with damp palms. “It won’t be too much of a shock? The news of the marriage?”

  “Shock?” Christo let out a throaty laugh. “News that I’m getting married will eclipse any event this century for my mother. Shock won’t come into it. I sent a driver to pick up my Aunt Kiki and take her shopping so we could have a private moment with Mother.”

  The elevator came to a halt. The doors slid open and Ruby’s heart leapt into her mouth.

  She’d expected a hallway, a foyer at the very least so she could prepare herself for this reunion, but they’d arrived smack bang in the middle of Christo’s lounge-room, and his mother was standing in front of them, arms outstretched, a beaming smile on her face as she’d always had. Suddenly Christo’s hand, strong and sure, slid into hers. Her pulse quickened as her mind flew to his hand holding hers on their wedding day. Any day after when she would be sharing his house, his life, and—God help her—his bed?

  “Ruby mou!” The older woman enveloped Ruby in a hug, the softly sweet smell of face powder and herbs bringing tears to her eyes. “It is so good to see you, my darling, and I am so, so sorry for the loss of your precious mother.” Ruby wanted to fall into the arms of Stella Mantazis and the security her hugs always gave, but all the blood in her body was racing to the place where her hand joined Christo’s. Warm and firm, the connection suddenly loosened every bone in her body.

  “Thank you so much, Stella, for everything you did for Mum for so long.”

  “It has been too long, koukla.” Stella stepped back and gripped the gold cross around her neck. And then her gaze snapped to where Ruby’s hand was twined with Christo’s, and her mouth dropped open. “You two?” Her sparkling black eyes grew rounder as her voice became more shrill. “You two?” In rapid fire Greek she threw up her hands and turned to Christo before taking his face in her hands and kissing him on both cheeks.

  “Mother,” Christo said when he’d withdrawn from the kiss, “Ruby and I have some news.” He laid a hand on Ruby’s shoulder and pulled her close until the warm plains of his torso were solid and sure beside her. “We’re getting married.”

  “A Panagia mou!” Stella made the sign of the cross three times and her tear-filled eyes swung skyward. “After so many bad times and so much sadness, you have been drawn together by God and by dear Antonia’s passing.”

  Christo smiled and, still holding Ruby close, placed a kiss on each of his mother’s cheeks. A memory of a young Christo—a deeply caring son, a passionate friend—touched Ruby, and for a moment she couldn’t reconcile the apprehension of becoming his wife with the knowledge that she’d once loved him so much.

  “Come in, come in!” Stella bustled toward a table laden with food. “Ruby-mou, Christo said you were coming so I made some sweets. Sit, sit!” She waved a white handkerchief that she’d dabbed her face with. “You must tell me the whole story,” she said turning back to them. “Christo, this is a celebration, we need some cherry brandy for good luck and many years together.”

  Christo drew Ruby closer once more, and her body seemed imprinted with his strong chest and his protective arms.

  “No cherry brandy, Mother.” His palm rubbed slow circles at the base of Ruby’s spine, sending a shower of delicious tingles through her lower body. “Ruby is pregnant.”

  His mother’s salt and pepper eyebrows moved down, then rapidly up. “Ah-me, it is a miracle!” Stella cried, and again she made the sign of the cross. “And those doctors telling us there was no hope for babies after the cancer.” She nodded vigorously. “But I have lit candles at the church and prayed for ten years that they had made a mistake…”

  “No, Mama.” Christo’s voice was low and grave. “The baby’s father was from America. He died before Ruby could tell him. I’ll be the father now. And the estate will be your new home. We’ll all live there together. The four of us.”

  Once more, Stella dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes and slumped in an easy chair. “This morning I am an old woman staying in her son’s house baking melomacarona and wondering what will become of me, and now I will have a daughter-in-law and a baby, too! And I can stay in that blessed house. Christo, my heart is bursting!”

  The truth, the sincerity, the absolute love and acceptance in Stella’s voice, gripped Ruby’s heart and squeezed the air from her lungs. Slowly the room began to swim. A vase of flowers on the table became a brilliant blur as Stella’s voice rang in her head. “This baby will have a whole new family in Auckland,” she was saying. “Just as Antonia would want for you, Ruby. When you are Christo’s wife, he will be the father of your beautiful morou.”

  Vertigo gripped Ruby and she swayed on her feet. She felt herself buckle, begin to disintegrate before something solid and strong caught her fall and she felt herself floating, lifted above the turmoil in her head to a place of beauty and serenity.

  The next moment her eyes were fluttering open and Christo was holding a wet compress to her forehead as she lay on a couch. “Enough excitement for one day. Take some deep breaths. I’m calling a doctor.” His voice rumbled low in her ear, his fresh marine scent enough to ease her skipping pulse.

  “What happened?” She drew her dry tongue across her lips, trying to focus on his jaw line so close.

  “The excitement level in this room hit overdrive, and you were affected by it. I told Mother everything at once, but I see you weren’t expecting it.”

  “Stella?” Ruby struggled to look around and sit up, but Christo’s warm palm on her shoulder eased her back into the comforting cushions.

  “She’s gone to the kitchen to heat up egg-lemon soup. It’s a great tonic for pregnancy, apparently.” He pulled a phone from his pocket, his gaze still trained on her face. There was something there. Anxiety? Concern?

  “I don’t need a doctor, Christo, I’m fine,” she said as her head pounded.

  He ignored her protest and punched the keypad, that cast-iron confidence returning once more. “A check-up will do no harm. You won’t come out tomorrow night if you’re not well.”

  Letting her eyes close, Ruby concentrated on the cool, firm pressure of the damp cloth on her forehead and the sense of Christo, so near as he spoke commandingly on the phone. When he’d finished, she opened her eyes.

  “We lied to your mother, Christo.” Her voice was a whisper.

&n
bsp; He placed the phone on the table and leaned close once more. “Lied? We didn’t lie.” He shrugged a shoulder as his face darkened. “I said we’re getting married, you’re pregnant, that we’ll live in the house together. Facts.”

  Her mouth was parched, tongue heavy in her mouth. “We lied by omission. Your mother thinks we’re in love.”

  Despite the fizz through her blood each time he touched her, despite the new thrill she’d begun to feel when he spoke of their future, he didn’t love her. He saw her as a means to an end, as he always had, only this time he was completely honest about it.

  His stare intensified. “You need to give my mother some credit, Ruby. She had an arranged marriage to my father when she was a teenager. She knows that people marry for all sorts of reasons.”

  “I thought your father treated your mother badly.”

  He looked to the kitchen then back again and his voice dropped low. “He did, which was why she left Greece when she was pregnant with me. She wanted me as far away from him as she could get. She, of all people, would understand that you do what you have to for a baby. Which is precisely what you are doing.”

  The familiar feeling of being influenced by Christo’s confidence, slipping under his spell, began to call to her, but she blocked it. “So why don’t you tell her the truth about everything…like the house?”

  His jaw was rigid. “Because it would cause her pain. She must believe she has as much right to live in the house as if it were her own. Not that she’s there by design. I’d prefer she thinks of herself as the true grandmother to our baby.”

  Our baby. It was the first time he’d used those words, and it caused Ruby’s heart to fill her throat. He wanted so much to be a father. She could see glimpses of it when he didn’t think she was looking. And it was important that he did feel that way if he was to play such an important role in her baby’s life. Her child deserved a father who would do everything in his power to protect it and love it, not someone who’d walk away from love as he’d done in the past.

  “Stella took the news so well,” she said, wanting to explore what sort of relationship the two of them might have as mother and daughter-in-law. “I haven’t seen her in so long, and I’m sure Mum would’ve opened up to her about the trouble between us.”

  He moved the damp cloth to her cheek. “All my mother wants is for people to be happy.” He smiled slowly and the expression lit his face. “If she can feed them while achieving that then all the better. Mum’s priorities have always been me and Antonia. She’ll want to do right by both of us.” He drew back and she stirred, missing the low hum of his voice so close to her ear. Missing this caring, protective side of him that made her feel…safe.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Sick to her stomach, that’s how she was feeling. Sick that they’d lied to Stella, played as if they loved each other when nothing could be further from the truth. But she had to get used to playing that game for people if this was to work. “I’ll be fine.” She carefully shifted her legs off the couch to the floor. “It’s very warm in here.”

  “You must take better care of yourself, Ruby.” He stood and strode toward the sliding doors leading to a balcony and pushed them open. “You hardly touched breakfast this morning, and swimming can’t be good when you’re feeling faint.” Of course that was why he was so concerned about her health—he wanted her to keep the baby safe.

  She placed her palm around the curve that was becoming more pronounced in her belly. “Nothing is more important to me than taking care of my baby, Christo, and your insinuation that I’d be careless is offensive. I swam those lengths this morning to keep myself healthy during the pregnancy. I’ll continue to do that, and more, to keep healthy for my child.”

  “Soup, soup!” Stella called as she came in from the kitchen carrying a tray. Christo immediately crossed the floor and took it from his mother.

  “You have so much sorrow in your face, Ruby-mou,” the older woman said as she fussed with a white napkin. “And it is understandable when you have lost your mother and your baby’s father. But it is not good for the baby to have you so sad. I want you to think that the baby’s father and Antonia are right here with us always. Looking down upon you and knowing that your life will be wonderful with my son.”

  Ruby nodded as a memory of sitting in the kitchen at home as a ten-year-old reeled through her mind. She must’ve been sick because she could remember the smell of mentholated rub on her chest and the warm, sweet and sour taste of egg lemon soup on her tongue. Things had been so uncomplicated back then. So honest and simple, unlike the tangled web she’d woven for herself now.

  She smiled as she looked into the caring face of her mother-in-law to be and gratefully took a bowl of steaming soup.

  …

  The next evening Ruby drew a deep breath and took one more step forward so she was in Christo’s line of vision.

  “Ruby.” Christo paused for a moment. “You’re stunning.”

  When he’d suggested she accompany him to the ball, she’d worried about what to wear. Now, standing at the top of the stairs as his voice rose to meet her, the butterflies in her stomach threatened to take unanimous flight and send her skyward. Never before had a word stopped her in her tracks like this one. Never before had she wished as strongly that she could hear it all over again.

  Clasping the polished banister with a clammy hand, she placed her stilettoed foot on the first stair.

  Each step would bring her closer to seeing Christo ready and waiting for her in a tuxedo.

  As the stair took her weight, the same squeaky floorboard she’d noticed when she’d first arrived back seemed to underline the stillness in the air and pull tighter at her connection to this house, to the commitment she was making to stay here.

  She left her gaze nonchalantly drifting just above his head so she could make it down without tripping. “Thank you.” She kept her voice light and breezy, hoping to keep the tremor hidden. “I didn’t bring anything formal with me so I went into Mum’s closet. She had some beautiful dresses. This was less fitted than the rest.” She faltered and gripped the rail tighter. “I suppose I should go through her things and sort them out.” Her throat caught for a second at the memory of her mother, the many times she’d watch her sitting in front of a mirror, gorgeous in an evening dress as she applied her make-up.

  She let her fingers graze across the honey-colored silk trailing her thigh, and she instantly felt calmer. Now that she’d agreed to marry Christo in order to stay in the house, she could take her time in saying goodbye to her mum.

  Halfway down, Christo hadn’t said anything more, so she filled the empty space, nerves dancing in her chest. “You said we’d only need to make a short appearance tonight, but this is the sort of dress I’d want to stay in all evening long.” Still he said nothing, just stood erect, fingers adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, chin tipped high.

  As she reached for the last step and he held out his hand, she ordered her heart to resume its beat as his knowing gaze pierced her cool façade.

  “It suits you beautifully.” His voice was low, his eyes dark and delicious, and Ruby drank in his compliment as a ribbon of warmth unraveled up her arm.

  To avoid his penetrating gaze, she let her own drift down to his neck where the deep tan of his skin contrasted with the snow white of his wing collar shirt and expertly knotted bow tie, to his chest where the dinner jacket hugged each centimeter, to the dinner pants that skimmed his thighs and…

  She swallowed hard and forced her hand to relax in his as she took the last step, and he towered above her.

  “The earrings. Are they your mother’s, too?”

  Ruby absently stroked at an ear lobe and watched as Christo devoured the movement.

  “Yes. I made them for her. They’re rose crystal.”

  Christo nodded. “I remember you making jewelry.”

  “I hadn’t made anything for years, but recently I’ve begun experimenting again,” she said. �
��I don’t ever remember Mum wearing these. I’d forgotten about them.” Her heart squeezed. “Dad always wanted to see her in expensive things. There are a few pieces like that in her jewelry box. I guess they should be somewhere safer.”

  “With you, the baby, and my mother here, security will never be an issue.”

  A tingle of warmth zipped through her. He was so sure that marrying her was the right decision, so confident that having the four of them living in the house together would be perfect. She’d been thinking about his comment yesterday about his father, and how his mother had done everything she could to keep her own baby safe. That was all Ruby needed to focus on now. Her baby.

  He turned and led her out the door to the waiting limousine as she regained the breath that had left her. “So, where are we going?” The kiss of early evening air warmed her bare shoulders. Dipping his chin to her, a waiting chauffeur opened the door of the shiny car.

  Before she could step forward, Christo guided her expertly inside and ducked his head in to speak. “A charity ball. It’s a new education program to get books into the homes of underprivileged children. As I said yesterday, we only need to make an appearance. An hour at most. But you might enjoy reestablishing some publishing connections.” His eyes slid across her, and she shivered under his gaze.

  She scooted across the plush leather seat, but her passage was interrupted by an ice bucket, the neck of a deep green bottle poking out at a jaunty angle. Tucking her legs in, she smoothed her dress and reached for a lock of hair that had escaped from her chignon.

  Christo folded himself into the seat beside her and handed her a seatbelt as the chauffeur shut the door. She looked down, busying herself with the clasp. “I guess it’s shrewd of them to invite an entrepreneur. Or is it your famous boy-about-town reputation that gets you invited to A-list parties?”

  He let out a throaty chuckle. “Neither of those this time.” He released a button on his tuxedo jacket and flicked a cuff before turning toward her. “I trust you’re better after your episode yesterday?”