Contract for Marriage

by Barbara Deleo

  …

  Ruby watched Christo’s easy stance and thought about what the other women had said about him. They’d seemed in awe, as though he were some supernatural being. She’d heard a group behind her speaking in whispered tones about how gorgeous he was, but how aloof and—one of them had said—unchartered. She wondered how many of them would do as she’d done yesterday and turn down the opportunity to share his bed. A shower of goose bumps crossed her skin as she imagined herself tangled in his sheets, his body wrapped around hers. His marine-fresh smell invaded her senses, and she imagined its intensity on a body bathed in sweat from lovemaking, the depth of it, should she reach in and kiss his neck…

  A rope of partygoers trailed down the stairs in front of them and Christo took her arm again. She relaxed into his touch, which had become surprisingly familiar in the last few hours. “This’ll take forever,” he said. “There’s an elevator over this way we can use.”

  While they walked, she remembered what he’d said about everyone being winners when they were married. He obviously saw himself as one. He would have the house he wanted for his mother, a baby he would raise as his own, and even a useful wife for his children’s charity. She’d also have much to gain in this marriage, but after everything she’d agreed to, how much did he trust her now? And how far would he go in keeping his promise to support her?

  As they rounded a corner and left the noise of the ballroom behind, she stopped and turned to him, her hand still on his arm. “I’d like us to be married as soon as possible. In three days if it can be arranged.”

  Looking around to see if anyone was listening, he backed her into an alcove. “Three days? We can’t arrange an appropriate wedding in three days.”

  She let her palms rest on the sensual silk of her dress and looked him in the eye. “You said yourself that it’s the minimum time it takes to get a license. I’ve decided to return to New York by the end of the week. I need to be sure the house will still be available to me and my baby when I get back. Are you prepared to support me?”

  His jaw stiffened. “We can’t arrange a proper wedding so quickly. It’ll look insincere, rushed. You haven’t even told your family yet.” His face darkened. “We had this conversation yesterday, Ruby. You can’t leave until the contract is secured. Until we’re married.”

  She nodded as her heart rate increased. “We did have the conversation yesterday, but I didn’t agree to stay until the wedding. I need to go back now, so I’m offering you an option. Either we get married in three days and then I go, or you agree that while I’m away you won’t declare that I’ve abandoned the house, and we get married when I come back. It’s a simple choice.”

  He fixed her with an impenetrable stare and she wondered how many others he’d evaluated like this, and how many had succumbed to his will? Stood up to him and won?

  She’d been surprised when he’d mentioned a big wedding yesterday, but now it made sense. He wanted this to look real to everyone.

  “I’ll come with you,” he said. “My PA can organize the wedding and we’ll do it when we return.”

  “No, this is something I want to do on my own. A last good-bye to my old life.”

  “Planning an escape route in case you change your mind?”

  “Christo, if we’re to share a house together, a child together, experience good times and bad together, sickness and prosperity, at some point you’ll need to trust me. It may as well start now.”

  He took a step closer, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. “That’s a lot to ask, Ruby. You used me for effect ten years ago.”

  She held his stare. He’d really believed her when she’d said she’d only used him to shock her father? They’d been the words of a heartbroken teenager, but they’d obviously found their mark. She fought to contain her surprise at the tension in his voice. “You’d disrespected me and I wanted to hurt you. You can show me some respect by trusting me now.”

  His eyes scanned hers, and something moved in their depths. He took her hand. “I’ll think about it.”

  As they walked, her heart pounded with what had shifted between them. “I’ll be waiting,” she said.

  They came to a wooden door set into a wall and he punched in a code. “This was one of the first inner city buildings I bought and I retained some of the old features. The council would only let me keep this old elevator if it wasn’t left open to the public.” Pulling back the door he revealed a highly polished black cage elevator.

  She took a step back and let her hand drop. “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “Perfectly. I had a whole new mechanism built for it in London. You don’t find these much anymore. I remember riding in them when we first came to New Zealand. They operate on a simple mechanism, but they’re very reliable.” He dropped his voice as he stepped closer. “I wouldn’t endanger you or the baby, Ruby. Trust goes both ways.”

  She took the hand he offered and when they were inside he pulled the steel door closed behind them.

  When he turned, she became aware of how very small the space was and how much of it his body took up. Her blood began to heat. Could she trust that he wouldn’t take a step closer? Wouldn’t trap her against the elevator wall so she’d give in to his touch? He watched her as he punched the button for the ground floor and the lift whirred to life.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she craned her neck to the ornate plasterwork in the ceiling. She wanted to look anywhere but at him to avoid thinking about the two of them in this tiny space. A pulse quickened in her chest and she laid an open palm across her belly.

  “Oh,” she said, as her mouth dried. She pressed against the far wall, but the ground seemed to suddenly drop away, and her heart was in her throat.

  Christo took a step closer. “Are you okay?”

  She pulled her tongue across her lips as the dropping sensation intensified.

  When he next spoke his voice was closer, a whisper against her cheek, and as she lifted her lashes, he was centimeters away. “It’s the nature of the mechanism,” he murmured. “It makes everything swifter, less steady.”

  The second she shut her eyes, the dropping sensation stopped. When she blinked open, Christo had his hand pressed against the stop button. “We’re between floors now. Not much longer. Are you okay?” Concern gathered at the corner of his eyes. “Maybe you’re more sensitive to motion now that you’re pregnant.”

  She pulled in a calming breath and smoothed damp palms down her dress. “Thank you.” She managed a dry whisper. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  “It’s a strange feeling. Like being out of control.” His voice was a low, comforting rumble. “That’s something you and I always had in common, neither wanting to feel out of control.”

  The skin across her breasts heated and she could feel it crawl up her neck. “True.” She’d been in this situation before with Christo, when the pull of his body had caused her to lose focus, forget what was important.

  He shifted his weight so he was a fraction closer, and all air seemed to siphon from the cell-like space. “Do you feel out of control now, Ruby?” Desire flashed bright across his features, from the set of his shoulders to his look of certain promise.

  The tips of her breasts pearled tight and she lifted her chin. He could’ve been speaking about her reaction to this lift or her body’s reaction to him. Every part of her hungered for him to move closer.

  “Say the word and I’ll start the elevator again.”

  In the smallest of movements she shook her head and, as she did, he brushed his knuckles down her cheek. When she reached up to place her hand on his, he dipped his face and claimed her lips.

  His warm, solid mouth met hers and Ruby couldn’t help herself. Obeying only her body, she pulled him closer, reveling in the strength and surety of him inside the tiny space. As he opened his mouth and his tongue slipped between her lips, she dug her hands into his hair.

  His fresh, ocean scent ignited the adrenaline already shooting through h
er veins, and when he walked her back to the solidity of the lift wall it was as if nothing could ever frighten her again.

  Every sound around them—her breath in short, sharp bursts, the slide of her dress silk against his fine suit—echoed around and around.

  “Christo.” She tried to catch her breath as his fingers found the shoestring straps at her shoulders and slipped beneath. “Who are you?” The steely man at the pool when she’d first arrived, the protective son, the charity founder—they all seemed so different, but were all wrapped in the skin that lay so close to her now.

  For a moment he said nothing, just drifted his fingers across her inch by inch as his gaze bored into hers. “A man who needs to taste a woman.” He growled the words, pushing the straps down so the swell of her breast was exposed and he reached down to kiss her there.

  Her mind swirling in confusion and need, Ruby dragged his face back to hers and kissed him, long and deep again. Searching the warm cave of his mouth with her tongue, every part of her body cried out to be closer.

  He returned the depth of her kiss, and his hands slipped in unison down her quivering sides, past her rising breasts, her body aching for his touch beneath. As his hands traveled lower, she let her own fingers trail the lengths of his arms, from the tight biceps only a gym trainer could own to forearms, then to hands she imagined pinning her to a bed. His kiss, the intensity of him, took her breath away.

  Looking up she was startled by the image in the mirrored wall opposite. She had a view of his jacketed back, her fingers buried in his hair, his hands traveling down her body and a delicious shiver ran across her skin.

  As his fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, she arched her neck, inviting the ribbon of kisses he trailed hot and damp. Burrowing her hands under his suit jacket, she slid them across crisp cotton, searching across the rigid stomach muscles—an instrument she could play.

  And then, despite her racing heart, her fingers froze.

  The only place for her hand to go was under his shirt, to the heated flesh she could feel beneath. And then what? Move her touch to his trousers? The buckle at the front? Everything—the marriage going ahead, securing the house for her child, being unaffected by Christo’s presence in her life—depended on her not taking this further. She’d surrendered to him once before. It wouldn’t happen again. If she lost perspective and everything came crashing down, they’d all suffer.

  She stiffened and he pulled away.

  Reaching for the straps that had slipped from her shoulders, she righted herself then brushed away hair that had fallen across her face. “Christo…” She caught her breath. “Could you start the lift again, please?”

  He didn’t move, the fiery imprint of his palms on her thighs constant. “You don’t feel out of control anymore?” His breath was warm against her hair.

  Her answer scraped the back of her throat. “I think we should go.”

  He stepped away, and his warming shroud was replaced by cool distance. She busied herself with smoothing her dress and tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. He stood facing her, back to the doors. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Motion sickness?” His lips turned up in a perfect crescent.

  “Maybe…”

  As she spoke, his head moved in acknowledgement but the understanding in his face spoke to her. This was about him convincing her that she should give her whole self to him. When he had her in his bed she’d be fulfilling his every need, just as she had when they’d been teenagers.

  It wouldn’t happen. She’d lost all judgment when it came to Christo Mantazis’s manipulation once. For her own sake, and for that of her baby, she needed to keep that part of herself out of his reach.

  “Thank you for coming tonight,” he said. “I think it was a successful evening all around.”

  With a sudden jolt, the elevator came to a halt. Ruby tugged in a breath as Christo pulled back the door of the shiny black cage, stood aside, and let her walk out first. Of course it was successful. He knew exactly where her weak spot for him was, and she needed to keep it guarded. To keep her baby’s family stable, she had to never let him see that vulnerable part of her again.

  What she did need to do was negotiate the limousine ride home, endless nights with Christo under the same roof, and the burning understanding that she still wanted him—only much, much more than before.

  And now he knew it, too.

  Chapter Eight

  “What’s this?” Ruby asked from the breakfast table the next morning. Christo held out the documents his PA had sent through. Ruby put down the china teacup and reached out a delicate hand, her soft expression puzzled.

  “Tickets to New York.” He passed them to her then took a seat. “There’s a flight to Los Angeles tomorrow, returning next Thursday. That should be enough time for you to wrap things up. I’ve instructed my PA to have everything ready for the wedding on Saturday so you’ll have enough time to complete the finishing touches. We can’t get the Greek Orthodox church at such short notice, so a registry office will have to do.”

  Ruby gazed down at the piece of paper clutched in her hand and then looked up at him. Her features brightened, and he remembered the feel of her body under his touch last night, blossoming and rich with promise. And it wasn’t just her body that had said she wanted him—it burned deep in her eyes as well. She needed to go to New York in the lead up to the wedding or he wouldn’t be able to keep from pulling her into his arms at every opportunity.

  When they were safely married, when the deal was secure, then he would have her in his bed. But he didn’t want to chance that she’d regret making love and back out of the wedding.

  “What made you change your mind about me going?” She picked up the teacup again and searched for its rim with her glossy lips.

  For a second, the image of her lush body under his played through his mind before he cleared his throat. “I don’t want your attention to be half way across the world when my mother’s moving in, or when the marriage is underway. Cutting your ties in New York will mean you can give your new life your full attention.”

  The softness on her features remained, but her tone became more insistent. “And you trust that I’ll come back as I said I would?”

  Unable to look at her plump lips or her easy smile a minute longer, he turned away and busied himself pouring coffee.

  Trust. Such a small word caused such a canyon between them. Had she believed him when he’d told her the truth in her uncle’s restaurant—that he hadn’t cheated on her ten years ago? His gut clenched. What did it matter? Whether she believed he’d been faithful or not, she still thought he’d been using her to gain status back then.

  Not that he’d begun to lose himself in her. Find himself in her.

  He gripped the back of a chair. The fact he was using her for his gain now and would continue to do so—for the house, his mother, a son or daughter—would ensure that chasm of distrust stayed rooted between them. “You’re the one who needs to be sure about trust, Ruby. Technically you’ll have left the house. Since we haven’t had time to draw up an agreement of understanding, you’ll be in breach of the terms of the will.”

  Her cup clinked as she laid it in the saucer. “You wouldn’t do that. I know you wouldn’t.” He turned back and the furrow on her brow, the quiet confidence in her statement, unsettled him. Had she seen something on his face just now? There was something different about her, as if she’d discovered a crack in his carefully engineered plan, and he didn’t like it. Losing his grip on his relationship with Ruby had cost him too much in the past. He wouldn’t have her seeing him that vulnerable ever again. “No, I wouldn’t have you kicked out. You’ll come back as you’ve said you will, but I don’t believe it’s from some newfound loyalty to me. You have too much to lose if you don’t return.”

  “I want this to work, Christo.” Her chin was tilted to him, the early morning sun from the French doors behind throwing gol
d sparks through her hair. This determination in her, the way she could fight for what she wanted, stirred him. “Sharing this house, sharing the upbringing of my child. Trust has to be an important part of that equation.”

  Trust. No, he would never trust Ruby Fleming. He’d done that once and she’d come up short. That she’d have stood up for him when her father made his accusations should’ve been the least he could have expected that defining night. Even if she hadn’t felt the depth of connection as he had when they’d made love, he’d still trusted her as a friend, someone he’d told his deepest secrets to. But she’d been using him for nothing more than shock value and the reality still bit.

  Resolution pumped hard through his veins. He would appreciate Ruby as a necessary part of his life, enjoy the sight, the sound, the smell, and the touch of her, but he would never trust her. With a woman like Ruby, everything would be fine most of the time, as long as she didn’t have another agenda. In those times he could imagine enjoying her company and having a rich life with her.

  But if he were to ever rely on Ruby, depend that she would have his back…that was when the crunch would come. When she’d show her true colors.

  He could never afford to forget.

  …

  “Anyone home?” As Ruby placed her house keys on the hall stand a week later, she listened for any sound. After the tiring flight from LA it felt good to be home, lovely to be walking through the front door. Circling her palm against her growing belly, she knew she’d be living here with her baby for a very long time.

  She’d missed the connection to her Auckland flight and had returned a day later than expected. Tomorrow was the wedding, and her head was spinning at everything that needed to be done.

  Christo had e-mailed to say he couldn’t be at the airport, as this was the day his mother moved back in. He’d wanted the house to be ready for them both. At the sound of movement from the top of the stairs, she looked up and her heart hammered heavy behind her ribs. Christo was coming down from the landing, a white T-shirt stretching across his athlete’s chest, faded jeans clinging to his thighs, and weekend-casual hair.