Contract for Marriage (8 page)

“It’s not too late for your baby. One decision can change everything.”

Her head spun as she watched him warily. He could so easily push his advantage now if he wanted to—remind her what the letter had said about her mother wanting Stella to have it. But this wasn’t just about the house anymore. Now he wanted so much more from her. He wanted her child.

“So, how do you know all this?” she asked. “Why would Mum have opened up to you about it?”

He leaned closer, both hands together only inches from hers. The light from the wall behind him cast shadows across his face, making him look not so very different from the nineteen-year-old boy she’d known a lifetime ago. “Your mother welcomed me back in the house after your father died, and we became closer. She understood that, like her, I’d been maligned and maltreated by your father and by you.”

She ignored the barb. “I’m glad you were there for her, Christo.”

“And I’ll be here for you too. Both you and your baby. Marrying me is the only solution.”

She swallowed. “Even though you now know this was all kept from me, you’ll still fight on?”

His unrelenting gaze held her motionless. “Now that
you
understand everything—why your mother felt so indebted to my mother—you must see now that marriage is the only solution. Antonia wanted my mother to have that house. You want it too.”

“What you’re offering me wouldn’t be a real family. How can I do that to my child?”

He was so close now she could see each one of his inky black lashes. “It would be a lot healthier than the family you had,” he said. “This baby will have two parents who would do anything for their child.
Available
parents whose relationship wasn’t diseased by unrequited love or unreasonable expectation. I know you, Ruby, and you know me. There will be no surprises, no emotional roller coasters. We’re both strong, passionate people who’ll put a child first. And when you marry me your child can have a live-in grandmother who would love him like her own.”

“And parents who don’t share a bedroom.”

He snared her with a look of simmering desire. “I don’t see why not.”

She couldn’t disguise her shock. “So you’d want the marriage to be consummated?”

“Of course. Our marriage would be for life, so what choice would there be? I, for one, couldn’t live with being celibate, and I would never break my vows and look for sex outside the union.”

Ruby placed both palms flat on the table and stared straight into his hungry eyes as her heart beat out of her chest. “If sex is a requirement of this marriage of convenience then there is absolutely no way I’ll agree.
Ever
.”

She’d once loved him with her body, but that had been when she’d also loved him with her heart. She wouldn’t fall back into his bed. He was a different man. Older. Cynical. More calculating. And he still only wanted her for what she could provide. There was something hard and cold inside him now. She couldn’t let herself forget that.

He arched an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying that without sex you’ll agree to a marriage? That we’ll share the house so our child can grow up in a healthy family? An emotionally stable family?”

Ruby lifted her chin. There were no more options, no other way to right the wrongs of the past, to give her baby the opportunity to grow up in the home of its ancestors. His point that they knew each other so well, strengths and weaknesses, had touched something in her and she wondered if that might, indeed, be the best environment to bring a baby up in.

“If we draw up watertight agreements and contracts to safeguard the house, if we agree to a commitment to my child’s future, and if we agree to no sex.”

Christo leaned fractionally closer. “Let’s start with that,” he said.

Chapter Six

“Ready?” Christo asked as he held the sleek door of his convertible open for Ruby.

Moments earlier they’d glided through enormous security gates, driven down through a densely wooded driveway, and pulled up at a grand entrance staircase. It had been almost twenty-four hours since she’d agreed to marry Christo, but it still felt like a dream. A fantasy. And yet it felt strangely possible. Something had shifted deep inside when Christo had told her the truth about her parents, like a part of her that had been buried was beginning to find the light.

“I thought you said your mother was in your
apartment
.” She looked up at the enormous dwelling that blocked the afternoon sun. “This is almost as big as my…” She tripped on the words. “It’s almost as big as the estate.” The modern wooden and steel structure sat magnificently on a plateau overlooking the sparkling waters of Waitemata Harbor. With Rangitoto Island’s volcanic cone in the distance, the view was the same as the view from her own front garden, give or take a few degrees on the compass.

“Technically, it’s an apartment,” he said, as he shut the car door. “With separate entranceways, but I can make it into a single dwelling if I wish.” Guiding her up the stairs, he placed his palm at the small of her back and immediately a shower of sparks raced through her midriff.

A primal craving for more of his touch flamed from somewhere within, but she pushed it away and forced herself to listen to him.

“The penthouse suite at the top is where my mother is. The other apartments below are for family who visit from Greece.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Not according to my mother.” The pressure of his palm increased as he ushered her through the giant wooden doors, and she had to focus harder on what he was saying. “I bought this a few years ago, hoping to convince her that it would be a great place for her retirement. Sea views and native bush as she’s used to, a cook’s kitchen with a specially planted garden with all her Greek herbs. She wouldn’t hear of it. Wouldn’t think of leaving your mother.”

Her heart warmed. Ruby had always loved Stella, but all this new knowledge, the lengths she’d gone to for Antonia, made her want to thank Christo’s mother in person. One good thing to come out of all of this was that she would have Stella Mantazis back in her life—as a grandmother to her child.

Inside, across an expansive marble floor, they reached an elevator and Christo pressed the up-arrow. He slung a hand in the pocket of his pale chinos and looked at her. “I’ve confirmed to the organizing committee at tomorrow’s event that I’ll attend and you’ll be accompanying me.”

Ruby nodded then tilted her face to his. “So, we’re still playing by the rules of leaving the house together?”

His broad shoulders straightened. “I’ll inform Tim today about our plans, but until we’re married and the finer print of the contract has been discussed, it’s prudent to follow the terms of the will.”

Obviously he didn’t trust that she’d stick to their agreement. Despite the intensity of yesterday’s proposal, he was still doing everything to keep her at arm’s length. And did that mean she couldn’t leave without his permission?

She clasped her hands together in front and pushed calm into her voice. “Then that could be a problem.”

He swung his gaze to her as she continued. “Now I’ve made the commitment to stay in Auckland, I’ll need to return to New York to sell my apartment and make plans for my things to be shipped. I have good friends I want to say good-bye to, but I’ll be back within the week.”

She’d spent much of the morning making arrangements—handing in her notice at the magazine, putting her apartment on the market. She’d expected to feel apprehensive, that she’d second-guess her decision to stay in New Zealand permanently under these circumstances, but as each tie from her old life was cut, she felt more and more sure she’d made the right decision for her child. And for her. She’d already imagined hunting out her old swing chair to hang back up in the ancient apple tree. And she’d lain awake last night planning which bedroom she could turn into a nursery.

His dark eyes flared. “A return to New York right now’s impossible. A marriage license takes at least three days to organize and then there’s the venue to arrange, guest lists to draw up. Your trip will wait until we’re married.”

She paused, and her throat dried. “You’d imagined an elaborate occasion? I couldn’t go through with this sort of marriage in a church. No, it’s not possible.”

“Our marriage will demonstrate our commitment to the agreement. Something that can be witnessed by your family, and my mother especially. I want there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that this is a marriage, a commitment to be honored.”

She swallowed. A traditional ceremony certainly wasn’t what she’d imagined. She’d pictured just enough to tick the official boxes, ensure the security of the house, and a future for her baby. The thought of standing in a church in a pure white gown put a whole different spin on things. “My trip can’t wait, Christo. I owe it to my employer to wrap up my job properly. And I want to ensure I get the best price for my apartment. I need to go as soon as possible.”

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.

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.”