Contract for Marriage (10 page)

She brushed her fingers across her lips and frowned. “I won’t lie to my family, Christo. There’s been enough deceit in the Fleming family.”

“They’ll all benefit from having you and the baby in New Zealand.” Slinging a hand into his pocket, he continued. “So everyone’s a winner.”

…

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 her 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 gold 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.

Blood fizzed through her body and she dragged in an extra breath. Memories of the way he’d touched and kissed her just one long week ago soaked through her.

“Welcome home,” he said as he took the last stair. “My mother called and said she won’t need me for another hour. She’s still potting herbs to bring. I could’ve made it to the airport if I’d known.”

Without thinking, Ruby stepped forward, then back. Should she hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? Her stomach swooped. He was about to be her husband, for God’s sake, and she didn’t know how to react to him.

Her uncertainty was squashed as he bent down and picked up her suitcase and carry-on bag before turning to go back up the stairs again. “Good flight?” He spoke over his shoulder, and the lingering scent of soap and Christo invaded her senses.

“Fine, thanks.” She took a long, controlled breath, ignoring the unexpected disappointment at his casual response. Roommates. That’s what they were. Acquaintances who shared the same living environment. They
would
make this work, because it was the best thing for her baby.

“Is there someone here?” She moved to the stairs. “The car out front?”

“I bought that for you,” he said casually. “You can’t live in Auckland without a car. The keys are in the wooden bowl by the front door.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. She began to speak but he cut her off. “When my mother does arrive, I’d like to give her my full attention.”

“Of course. She’ll be looking forward to settling back in, I’m sure.”

Christo nodded. “I wanted her to move in earlier, but she said she wouldn’t be comfortable here without you.” He continued up the stairs. “You’ll be tired from the flight. Now’s a good time to show you our new sleeping arrangements.”

Ruby stopped with one foot on the bottom stair, the other still firmly planted on the floor. “Sleeping arrangements?” The shiny banister heated beneath her grip.

Christo kept climbing the stairs without looking back. “What’s in this bag?” he asked. “It’s making noises.”

“Jewelry equipment, crystals, and beads,” she said as her mouth dried. “You’ve made changes to the bedrooms? Without discussing it with me?” She climbed, one hand pressed to her chest.

“I had one of my builders renovate, but I only changed one bedroom. I’m sure you’ll like it. I employed Auckland’s finest young designer, as her taste is similar to yours.”

He’d reached the master bedroom, the room she’d stayed in when she first came back and she caught a breath as he held the door open.

“You’ve made changes to my mother’s room?” Her heart thumped as she stepped inside and her shoulder bag slid to the floor. It was completely different. Smaller somehow, but far more luxurious. She suppressed a gasp.

“Our room now. The master bedroom.” He deposited her suitcase on the king-size bed. “I’ve moved some of my things into the smaller of the two closets.” He stood relaxed, hands low on his hips. “Professional packers have catalogued and stored all your mother’s things so you can go through them at your leisure. Her jewelry is in the new safe.”

Her hand went to her mouth as she scanned the room. The whole style had changed. What had once been a plain, motherly bedroom was now a place of opulence, with everything made bigger.
Double
everything. Two easy chairs, two desks, two sets of drawers.

In an unguarded moment she imagined this room at night, the twin bedside lamps throwing a sultry light across the huge bed and its luxurious coverlet. Of Christo lying beside her, spent from a long night of lovemaking. Then her throat dried. He’d gone back on that part of the deal and expected to sleep with her.

“You can’t believe that I’d share a bed with you?” Heat rose quickly from her neck to her face. “We’ve had this conversation and I explained that sex is not negotiable. What is it about me that makes you think I’ll follow even one of your orders?”

He lifted his chin and gave her an easy smile. “My mother’s moving in today. I won’t have her seeing us in separate rooms. She’d worry that there were problems between us.”

She took a step backward. “We won’t share a bed. I won’t sleep with you, Christo.”

He leaned an elbow on the enormous bureau, and his mouth lifted, eyes sweeping the length of her body. “So you’ve said.”

She shook her head. “You agreed, and now you’re going back on it. You haven’t respected any of my wishes.”

“I said this was our bedroom, Ruby. I didn’t say anything about sleeping together in it.” He walked over to the bathroom door. “I’ve had this whole wall moved and built another room behind the bathroom. When my mother’s retired for the evening, I’ll be sleeping there.”

While he waited, Ruby crossed the room, her mouth dry. As he held the bathroom door open, she looked into the room beyond. It was furnished in blues and grays. A chair covered in silver fabric sat at a steel desk. This was a man’s room. Doors opened to a new balcony.

Part of her breathed easier.

“This is the only access to the smaller room. Mother will never even know it exists.”

Sharing a bathroom? An image of Christo, freshly showered, a towel slung low on his hips, caused a shiver to race across her neck, and she swallowed. How could
that
end in anything but trouble? “I trust there’s a lock?”

The corner of his mouth hitched. “Bit difficult, considering there’s no other entrance to the room. I wouldn’t want you to mistakenly lock me in.”

Her hands fluttered to her throat. “This—”
is
unbearable
“—isn’t what I’d imagined. Not what I agreed to.”

“What had you imagined? That I’d live out in the servant’s quarters as I’d done before? We’ll be husband and wife, Ruby. Adults. I’m sure there are many couples the world over who pretend to be sleeping together but who have separate bedrooms.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts. “I’ll agree to this on one condition.”

He said nothing, just held her steady gaze with his.

“We have a separate entranceway built for the new room, and in the meantime I’ll take the smaller of the two.”

He blinked slowly. “You’re worried that I might walk in on you?”

Yes.
“I’d be happier in the smaller room.”

He sauntered closer, more of his heat soaking through her at every step. He might be saying one thing, but more than instinct said he meant another. For one long moment he looked deep in her eyes, then nodded and left the room.

…

Hell, it was
hot
.

Christo threw off the sheet that had been stuck to his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he scrubbed a hand through his hair, he took a quick look at his phone. 12:30 a.m. One of those Auckland nights where the darkness beat with heated air. Every breath was a hot, damp effort. Sleep was elusive.

He walked to the double doors leading onto his balcony, threw them open, and took a lung-f of subtropical night air. He’d waited a decent length of time before coming to bed so that Ruby would be settled into her new room. The only image he’d had of her since was her lying in her own bed only meters from where he stood, little more than a flimsy nightgown separating her from cool sheets.

Throat dry, he padded into his side of the bathroom and in the blue light thrown from the stained glass window, he found a water glass.

Would there be a nightgown? He turned on the tap and filled the glass. Or would she have thrown any garment off to lie naked between the linen, her hair a messy halo, a slim hand resting on the curve of her belly? As blood pounded in his veins, he turned his face to her door, and his stomach clenched. It was open.

Surely after her defensiveness this afternoon she wouldn’t have left it open intentionally. She’d made it clear she wanted to keep her distance.

He should close it. The soles of his feet stuck to the sleek tile floor as he walked across the room and placed a hand on the doorknob.

Was she okay? Maybe the new air-conditioning unit wasn’t working. Carefully he pushed the door open and waited while his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. What he saw made his stomach churn. Her bed was empty, sheets flung off, the curtains across her balcony doors open to the night.