Contract for Marriage

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Contract for Marriage Page 16

by Barbara Deleo


  Her mouth dried, and she rubbed fingers against her pounding temples. “I don’t know yet. I’ll find somewhere for the two of us.”

  “Where?” His tone was so gentle it almost unhinged her. She’d expected him to be angry, or at the very least upset. “Can you afford to buy a place of your own?”

  “I haven’t thought the details through completely.” She caught the waver in her voice.

  “So that’s it?” He leaned back, and a harder tone edged his words—the same tone she’d heard on her first day back here. She shivered. “We come to an agreement and then you suddenly change the rules?” This was more what she’d expected, and somehow it relieved her. It masked the grinding ache in her chest a little.

  “I haven’t changed the rules, Christo. I’m not the same person I was when I signed that agreement or made those vows. Since I’ve spent time back in this house—and time with you—I’ve realized that I need more than you can offer me. More than a life where you make my choices for me.” She clasped her hands together on the table, willing her voice to stay steady. “I’ve already called my lawyer in New York and instructed her to sign my share of the house over to your mother. I’m going to follow through on my mother’s wishes as I probably should’ve done all along.” Her voice cracked, and she took a breath. “I hope you’ll both be happy here.”

  “What do I have to do to get you to stay?”

  She paused for a moment as her stomach swooped, knowing that when she said this she couldn’t take it back. “Say you can offer me the whole package. Everything a husband should offer his wife. Acceptance, trust, forgiveness. Love.”

  A shadow passed across his face, and a muscle in his jaw pulled tighter. He took a moment before speaking. “The fact that I offered a compromise on the house demonstrates my acceptance of what happened between us before.” He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “Forgiveness, too, I guess.”

  Ruby concentrated on steadying her trembling lips. “You still don’t trust me or my decisions. You remove yourself from communication when you should be standing beside me, talking things through with me. And you can’t offer me love, can you, Christo?”

  He sat still for a moment and then leaned further back in his chair. The pained look on his face could’ve been enough of an answer, but the silence rammed home harder.

  Even though she’d known in her soul he felt that way, she couldn’t prevent the arrow to her heart. She couldn’t stop the hole that caved inside with the knowledge that he would never love her, and that she would never lie in his strong arms again. She couldn’t seem to fill her lungs with enough air as reality pounded through her.

  She shifted her chair back, desperate to get away from the look of resignation on Christo’s face.

  He shrugged a strong shoulder. “We share a home, soon we’ll share the upbringing of a child, and I know you enjoy sharing my bed. Why do you need more?”

  She shook her head and blinked away another tear. “I want so much more for my child than just a beautiful home to grow up in, Christo. I want my baby to never question its part in a loving, committed, trusting family. Since I’ve been back here, I’ve begun to understand the niggling feelings I had as a child that something was wrong with my family, that something was wrong with me. My parents didn’t love each other; they didn’t trust each other. They both lived a lie to get what they wanted, and I’m not prepared to do that to my child.”

  He sat in silence, shoulders rounded.

  Part of her ached to reach out and touch him, to establish one final moment of togetherness before she left. She laid a hand on his arm and the bittersweet realization that this could be the last time they touched sent fresh tears to her eyes. “I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for me,” she said, every word an effort. “And when you do fall in love with someone, I hope with all my heart that you’ll have the chance to be the fantastic father that I know you’ll be.”

  When he said nothing more, Ruby turned and walked from the room, finally letting her tears fall.

  …

  “Christo, it’s all over the papers. We have to do something, or the public support of the charity will be finished. At the very least you’ll need to make a statement.”

  “It’s nobody else’s goddamn business,” Christo hissed. He turned his back on George, his media relations manager, and glared out his office window to the glittering harbor in the distance. He’d spent the last week honoring Ruby’s wish that he leave her in peace, and every day this tightness in his chest had increased until it was a permanent, pervading ache.

  Where was she? How was she? And now that their separation had hit the newspaper headlines, would it be some rabid journalist who would know the answers to those questions better than he would? He should’ve found her by now and seen with his own eyes that she was okay, and that this separation was still what she wanted.

  “The newspapers have certainly taken Ruby’s side,” George said as he flicked through some of the broadsheets on Christo’s desk. “‘Tycoon’s Pregnant Wife Abandoned,’ ‘Marriage and Fatherhood Too Much for Playboy Mantazis.’ And this one really takes the cake: ‘Fleming Heiress Duped into Marrying Millionaire Mantazis.’”

  “I don’t care what the newspapers say about me.” Christo swiveled away from the view. “But I won’t have them making up stories about Ruby or suggesting that the charity is tarnished as a result of what’s happened. That’s ludicrous.”

  Ruby. Was that the first time he’d said her name aloud in the last seven days? He’d thought it a hundred—no—a thousand times, all day, every day. All he’d wanted was the chance to say it to her—in their garden, in their house, in his arms. The loss of her was so huge, so bitingly real, that he could almost touch it, and it was growing deeper every day.

  “Seems they’ve interviewed a disgruntled ex-manager from one of your Melbourne resorts,” George said, flicking through another paper. “He says, and I quote, ‘Christo Mantazis is a man with an immigrant’s chip on his shoulder. He’ll push everyone and everything aside to get what he wants, including a brand new wife and baby.’”

  Christo knew exactly which worm that would be. The one he’d fired then sued for the sexual harassment of one of his best personal trainers.

  “What would you like me to do?” George sat back in his chair.

  Ignoring the question, Christo leaned across his desk and pushed a button on an intercom. “Patrice, get me Lorenzo Cacciatore on the line.” He pulled in a sharp breath and leveled his gaze on the pile of papers on his desk. “I need to find Ruby. Make sure she’s protected from those parasites. Her uncle will know where she is.” The thought of her dealing with all of this alone caused anger to fill the part of his soul that had felt empty all week.

  A moment later his phone buzzed, and he picked it up.

  “Christo.” Lorenzo’s strong accent came down the line.

  Christo leaned his elbows on the desk, a fist clenched in an open palm. “Lorenzo, tell me where Ruby is.”

  The older man cleared his throat. “Ah, Christo, I’ve wanted to call and offer my condolences for what has happened with you and Ruby, but Maria asked me not to. I wish I could help you both.”

  “Thank you for the thought, Lorenzo. I need an address where I can find her.”

  Lorenzo’s voice grew more desperate. “I wondered about telling you, but Ruby said she needed some time alone and that she didn’t want anyone, especially you, knowing where she was.”

  “I’ve stayed away at her wishes, but things have changed.” Christo squeezed his fist as he watched George pile the papers. “This story has become huge, and she may be dealing with the media fallout on her own. I need to find her before they do.” The thump in his head got stronger.

  There was a pause, and then Ruby’s uncle spoke again. “It’s too late for that, Christo. The media have already found her.”

  Christo powered to his feet, blood pumping at his temples. “What do you mean?”

  “She was on the mi
dday television news half an hour ago.” The older man’s voice wavered. “She gave an interview.”

  Five minutes later, Christo had Googled the television news story and waited while the video footage rolled out. He’d sent George to find the person who’d filed the story, but in the meantime he wanted to see the evidence for himself. As he sat in his office chair he gripped the armrests. She shouldn’t have to deal with this by herself. He should be there to protect her. The empty feeling grew wider and he flicked the mouse on his desk, impatient for news of her.

  The newsreader’s face filled the screen of the computer, but as the story was being introduced, Christo’s gaze was drawn to the image behind him.

  A wedding snap of Ruby filled the rest of the screen and all air was sucked from his lungs. He hadn’t had time to look at the prints the photographer had sent through last week, but someone had gotten hold of them. And this one was incredible. Ruby’s honey-blond hair was draped over her shoulders, the delicate veil she wore misting her face. He was surprised at the way he stood, his arm dragging her closer as he looked into her eyes. Her perfect face was lit with a smile. Now the hole in his chest widened, pouring a deep, pervading ache through his whole body, and he steadied himself against the desk.

  “…And earlier today, our reporter, Rose Coppen, was at the scene and filed this report.”

  Christo was glued to the screen, and when he saw Ruby emerge from the front of a tiny house his heart rate spiked. He curled a fist as he whispered her name. The house looked grimy and run-down, and the noise of traffic in the distance indicated it was inner city.

  She stood on a top step, a light cotton dress fitting across her slight shoulders and hugging the perfectly curved shape of her belly. He swallowed. Hard.

  God, he’d missed her. The clean, lavender scent of her shampoo when he buried his face in her hair, the sight of her making jewelry at the kitchen table, the feel of her ripening body as he wrapped his arms around her… His mind flashed to her in his bed, to the sound of her sighs as she snuggled into him after they’d made love, and to their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces. But she didn’t want a life with him in that house.

  A dull throb began at the base of his skull, and he pushed his fingers against his eyes. She wanted more than he could give, and it killed him.

  “Mrs. Mantazis,” a voice was saying and he focused back on the screen. “As he’s done right throughout his career, Christo Mantazis has refused to answer any questions about his personal life. Is it true that he left you homeless and pregnant after only weeks of marriage?”

  Flashes went off as a scrum of photographers moved forward, and Ruby’s eyes rounded as her lips parted. Christo moved closer to the screen, cursing those strangers for wanting something from her that she shouldn’t have to give.

  “There’s a reason why Mr. Mantazis doesn’t want to discuss the breakdown of our marriage.” She paused and for a heart-stopping second Christo willed himself through the screen to protect her and that precious baby she was carrying from this outrage. What he wouldn’t give for the chance to take her in his arms and take her away from all that.

  “The reason he doesn’t want to speak about it is that it was my decision. I asked Christo for a divorce.”

  Chatter broke out and more questions began firing from every direction. “Was that because he’d misrepresented himself to you?” someone shouted. “That he wanted access to your family estate? Was Mr. Mantazis untrustworthy, Mrs. Mantazis?”

  Ruby clasped her hands in front of her and turned her face to the camera. “My name is Ruby Fleming.” Her voice was rock solid and it caused pride to burn through him. “And there’s not a man in New Zealand who’s more generous, more caring, or more trustworthy than Christo Mantazis. He’s offered my baby and me a home. He’s followed through on every promise he’s made since I’ve been back in New Zealand. He didn’t speak to the media about our marriage breakdown because I asked him not to.”

  She really thought those things about him? After everything that had happened, she was prepared to stand up and put the record straight?

  Christo’s chest hollowed and words Ruby spoke a long time ago came racing into his head. ‘Faith is earned through identifiable actions,’ she’d said. And in her actions right now, in standing up for him when he most needed her, she was showing her faith in him. She could have used this as an opportunity to say that their marriage had been all an act, that she’d gone through with it to get what she wanted—just as she’d thrown at him years before—but she hadn’t. Confusion roiled through his whole body and it felt as though a whole new Ruby had reached in and kissed his heart. A new sensation began to fizz within him, filling his limbs, his chest, and his throat. It made him want to stay and fight for her. Show he had faith in her and so much more.

  “Is there any possibility of a reconciliation, Mrs. Mantazis?” another reporter asked and Christo drew closer to the screen, every muscle tightening in his body as he drew a deep breath. Her face was in extreme close-up. The blue of her eyes dulled, but the resolution in her voice was crisp and definite. “No, there isn’t. Christo and I want very different things in life. We always have. Christo’s found what he wants, but I’m still looking. I offer him my very best.”

  Blood roared in his ears, and he had to force himself to continue listening.

  “What’ll you do now, Mrs. Mantazis?” another reporter asked.

  “I’m going back to New York to resume my publishing career.”

  Christo clicked off the screen and stood, fingers curling around the desk as a realization came to him. Ruby wouldn’t be leaving New Zealand. She wouldn’t have to give up the house that she’d grown to love. It was the thing that Ruby wanted most in the world for herself and her baby.

  And he was going to give it to her.

  Chapter Twelve

  As dusk painted the summer sky a rich tangerine, Christo pulled his car up to the house he’d seen on the computer screen earlier in the day and got out. He’d had one of his contacts at the TV station provide the address, and it was as undesirable as he’d expected.

  He’d wanted to get to Ruby sooner, but he’d had to speak to his mother, visit a number of people, including his lawyer, and have papers drawn up. It had all taken time, and his head was thumping. When he saw Ruby, he would put this whole damn mess right. Maybe then the cavernous hole in his chest that had grown wider in the last few days would subside.

  He would do, could do the right thing. Ruby had taught him that. If she believed actions spoke of faith, and trust, and love, then he couldn’t wait to show her what he’d started.

  The media had dispersed save for a lone paparazzo who was already snapping pictures of him from the opposite curb. He’d considered summoning Ruby to a secret location so that none of this could be scrutinized, but then he’d decided, why bother? Few members of the public would still be interested in his marriage break-up thanks to the way Ruby had set the story straight today.

  A vision of her on the TV news raced through his mind, and the same feeling he’d had when she’d stood up for him in front of all those people touched him now. Humbled, proud, and… He took a deeper breath. Another feeling sent deep and aching need pounding through his body each time he thought of her.

  Love.

  He loved Ruby for her selflessness, for the way she fought for what was right, the way she walked her talk about actions counting more than words. He loved Ruby Fleming for making him look deep within himself and for giving him the courage to trust again.

  Suddenly, the resolve he’d felt only hours ago when he’d put alternate plans into place wavered. He had to give Ruby a choice, show her he trusted her judgment when it really counted. That he would wager his future on her wishes alone.

  What if she chose the plan that would drive a stake straight through his heart? He rubbed at his throbbing temple and put every ounce of faith he had into believing Ruby would make the right decision. If she was capable of standing up for him, he
was ready to fight for her.

  He flicked off a piece of paint peeling from the door and knocked. He’d told her via text that he was coming and the only reply he’d had was You’ll need to come today, my tickets home are booked for tomorrow. It was good to think she wouldn’t be staying in this dive much longer. He shoved a hand inside his trouser pocket. No matter which option Ruby chose, she would be back where she belonged—in the house where her face lit up, where her laugh could fly free. Where she could let go of the shackles of the past.

  As the door pulled open and Ruby looked up at him with luminous blue eyes, his heart beat out of his chest. He gripped the rough wood of the doorjamb and prayed he could see this through. Her eyes were soft, her face make-up free, her smile glowing and open. A hit of something he hadn’t felt in a decade tore through his veins like a long craved drug. Right at this moment he wanted this woman with every fiber of his being. He wanted to hold her, love her, and be everything she wanted.

  But he’d had this feeling for Ruby once before, and he’d run from it when he’d been exposed and vulnerable. This time he’d face it head on.

  Ruby and her unborn child didn’t need him to be weak. They needed him to be strong and decisive. When Ruby chose one of his two plans, she could live the life she deserved with her child. The sooner he did this, the sooner this agonizing pain that was gnawing at him would ease.

  “Come in.” She waved a delicate hand. Her voice was more fragile than he remembered, and he worried about what all this stress had done to her and the precious baby she was carrying. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m packing and I need to keep going if I’m to get everything ready for tomorrow.” Her hair was caught up at the back of her head, her silky neck exposed with tantalizing wisps of blond hair spilling out at will. A tiny black smudge dusted her perfect cheek, and he burned to drag his thumb across it, then reach down and claim her mouth one more time. But this wasn’t about what he desired anymore. This was about giving Ruby the chance to live the way she truly wanted.

 

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