Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge Page 16

  She stared at him in shock. ‘You can’t simply undo a marriage. You can’t undo what we are!’

  ‘This piece of paper would suggest otherwise,’ he said, with a factual determination that left her cold.

  ‘Nikos!’ His name was a plea. She looked at the paper. ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  ‘I don’t want you to stay,’ he said thickly. ‘Not like this.’

  Marnie dropped her head forward. Tears splashed out of her eyes.

  ‘I’ve had the pre-nuptial agreement voided,’ he murmured. ‘And you need never worry that your father’s finances will be in trouble—’

  He thought of the other provisions he’d had enabled, but dismissed the need to discuss them at that point. Actually, he doubted he had the mental wherewithal in that moment to do justice to any of the financial arrangements he’d put in place.

  ‘Listen to me,’ she interrupted, her voice unsteady, her tone showing urgency. ‘My father has nothing to do with this.’

  ‘He is why we married.’

  But it was almost a question, a demand for information.

  His eyes locked to hers in a way that stole Marnie’s breath. It was time to tell him the truth. She didn’t believe she’d married for love necessarily, and yet hadn’t it always been there? Even when she was furious, wasn’t it because she loved him so much and felt so hurt by his actions?

  But at that moment her courage was thin on the ground. She tried a different approach, desperately needing to understand what was going on.

  ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s happened? Last night was fine. Last night was amazing. We danced and spoke as though...as though...we were making progress,’ she finished lamely. ‘We made love,’ she said—an anguished reminder of the beautiful way he’d taken her. It had been making love—not just sex, but perfect, intimate love.

  ‘You need to leave me,’ he said quietly, taking a step backwards. ‘Let me be as clear tonight as you were six years ago, when you ended things the first time. For both our sakes, please leave. Our marriage was a mistake. I should have known better than to even contemplate it. Now you must go. It is over between us and you should be grateful for that.’

  She watched as he strode out of the kitchen in what she considered to be the middle of their argument, and was torn between chasing after him and doing just as he’d said. How easy it would be to numbly pack a suitcase and go—to leave this minefield for the peace of solitude.

  Only what followed wouldn’t be easy. Leaving him once had hurt like hell and she’d never recovered. And the way she’d felt then was a fraction of what she felt now. She’d lived with him, and beyond that she’d committed her full self to this man and their marriage.

  But could she keep trying to make their marriage work if he didn’t even want the marriage any more? She stared at the piece of paper, anger building brick by brick inside her.

  When had her mother and her husband had this tête-à-tête? And if Anne knew how badly Marnie had longed for Nikos why hadn’t she talked to Marnie about it? Why hadn’t she taken back the edict that had led to Marnie ruining her relationship with the only man she’d ever loved?

  She caught a scream in her mouth; just a muted sound of frustration erupted into the silent kitchen. She had been pulled in a thousand directions by those she most cared about and now fury was building within her.

  She stormed across the room, her feet planted heavily on the tiles, until she reached the sliding glass doors. She pushed them open and went outside. At the pool, she ripped her dress over her head, then leapt in. The water was a balm to her fraught senses and it absorbed the stinging, angry tears that were running freely down her cheeks.

  Divorce?

  After a month?

  When she was pregnant with his baby?

  And completely in love with him?

  And he loved her, didn’t he? She was almost sure of it.

  So why tell her to leave, then? None of it made sense.

  But she wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. She loved him more than ever before, and that meant staying to fight—not running away.

  * * *

  When Nikos awoke the next morning it was still dark and he was alone in his bed. He sat up, intent on going for his usual run, but a blinding headache shattered his temples.

  And then it all came flooding back to him.

  His conversation with Anne Kenington... ‘I love her. I just don’t know how to love her.’

  The divorce papers that had seemed like such an inspired idea at his lowest ebb.

  Marnie’s face as she’d stared at him, tears on her lashes, her slender body shaking as she comprehended his words.

  ‘I want you to go. It is over between us.’

  He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only enabled him to remember more clearly. The pain had slammed into her like a wall. Her harsh reaction to his simple solution. His belief that by divorcing her he could erase the barbarism of his behaviour.

  He swore loudly and stood, ignoring the blinding pain that spiked in his brain. Marnie. Where was she? Had she left?

  A cursory inspection of their room showed that her clothes were all in their usual spot. Relief was brief. She hadn’t gone anywhere. Had she? He moved into their en-suite bathroom intent on making himself look slightly more civilised before facing the music.

  It smelled of her. Lavender, violets...feminine and sweet. His gut clenched and he swore again.

  He showered quickly and wrapped a towel around his waist while brushing his teeth. The toothpaste tube was empty and he tossed it carelessly in the rubbish bin. It missed. When he crouched down to retrieve it, his head complaining the whole time, something unusual caught his eye. A box.

  He lifted it out and stared at it in confusion.

  A pregnancy test?

  That didn’t make any sense.

  Marnie was on the pill. But it sure as hell wasn’t Eléni’s. Which meant that somehow, for some reason, Marnie had had reason to believe she might be pregnant. He opened the box but it was empty. Nor was there a test in the trash.

  With renewed urgency he pulled on a pair of shorts and shirt and practically ran out of the room and through the house. There were several guest rooms but they were all empty. Fear was building.

  What if she was pregnant? Would he still be strong enough to let her go? If she chose to divorce him—hell, she might have already signed the damned papers—would he let the divorce proceed?

  And what if she stayed with him because of the baby? Could he live with her knowing he’d trapped her—twice—into marriage?

  He checked her office. It was empty, neat.

  Then his own office—empty.

  Finally, he went to the kitchen.

  And there she was.

  Marnie.

  Sitting on the sofa, staring out at the lifting sun, her face pale, her eyes a terrifying maelstrom of feelings and fears.

  What could he say to her? What right did he have to explain?

  He walked quietly and then crouched in front of her, directly in Marnie’s line of sight.

  ‘Have you slept?’

  She blinked her eyes at him and then looked away, over his shoulder, focussing on the colours smudged across the sky. ‘I didn’t leave.’

  A muscle jerked at his temple. ‘I’m glad.’

  Her eyes flew to his again. Confusion. Hurt. ‘Why?’

  She reminded him of a wounded animal. He swore under his breath and dragged a hand through his hair. He needed to reassure her. To explain. She deserved at least that much. But his own questions were burning through him.

  For a man like Nikos, not knowing what to say or how to negotiate on the terms of his marriage brought with it great frustration. He was used to commanding a room. He had not doubted his ability t
o bring people to his way of thinking for a very long time.

  Business, though, was predictable—easy for a man like Nikos. He would discover what motivated a person and exploit that to gain his own success.

  Marnie was motivated by love.

  Loyalty.

  Affection and faithfulness.

  And he didn’t want her to be with him for any of those reasons but one.

  ‘You gave me divorce papers last night.’ Her eyes had an unexpected strength in them. ‘Why?’

  He expelled a breath. ‘Isn’t that obvious?’

  ‘You don’t want to be married to me,’ she whispered, the words a ghost of sentiment in the large room.

  ‘I don’t want you to feel forced to stay married to me,’ he clarified.

  She nodded, her gaze refusing to meet his. If only he had pushed her away! She’d ended up falling as much in love with him as ever, and now it was so much worse—for she’d tasted the mind-blowing bliss that came from sharing his bed and his life.

  ‘You were happy to give me an ultimatum at one time. What’s changed?’

  Did he detect the note of challenge in her voice?

  His smile was lacking any true happiness. ‘We are married, but you are not my wife.’ He stood, his back straight, his shoulders square. ‘It turns out you can’t really force someone into a marriage.’

  ‘Isn’t that what’s happened here?’

  He shook his head. ‘I believed that having you as my wife would make you mine. It doesn’t work like that, though.’ His expression was bleak for a moment, before hard certainty crossed it. ‘You will never be able to forget the way I propositioned you, and nor will I. I look at you and see the man I have become. A man I despise.’

  ‘You have helped my father,’ she said quietly. ‘I could never hate you after what you’ve done for him.’

  ‘You have to release us both from this. I can’t live with how I’ve hurt you.’

  She nodded, her throat raw from unshed tears. ‘You have hurt me,’ she whispered. ‘Just as I hurt you. Does that make us even now?’

  He stood up, moving angrily towards the glass doors and staring out. ‘You were a teenager. A grieving teenager. You hurt my pride and my ego and I left. I should have stayed. It takes courage to stay and fight for what you want. But I didn’t like how it felt to be rejected, so I went off like a sulking child.’ He thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘I didn’t deserve you.’

  She lifted her feet onto the sofa so she could rest her chin against her knees. ‘Fighting would have been pointless. You would have only upset me more than I already was. I truly believed I had no choice but to end it.’

  He nodded, thinking of the pregnancy test box he’d discovered. He turned slowly, but pain was a fresh wave crashing over him. She was a contradiction of fragility and strength. Broken but resolved. Determined and disappointed.

  He strode to her, a guttural sound of angst tearing from his chest. ‘I have broken whatever we used to be—not you. If you are pregnant I will support you. I will make sure you have everything you and the baby need. But I will not let you use that as a reason to stay with me.’

  Shock flashed over Marnie and her skin paled to paper-white. ‘The...baby?’ She swallowed. ‘How did you know?’ What was the point in denying it?

  ‘I found the box in our bathroom,’ he responded, so close he could touch her, but not allowing himself to do so.

  She hadn’t bothered to hide it because she’d thought they would have a perfect dinner together, over which she would share with him the happy news. Happy news! Well, at least there was still some truth in that. Thoughts of the baby filled her shattered heart with a slight antiseptic against the pain.

  ‘Is it true?’ he asked, his words anguished.

  Slowly she nodded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Yes...’

  ‘Thee mou!’ He groaned, standing and running a hand over his eyes. He seemed to stand there for ever, a heaving man, his whole body showing instant rejection of the idea of their child. Just as he’d said he would.

  What had she expected? That he would welcome this news?

  ‘I am so sorry.’ He groaned again, dropping his hand and pinning her with the full force of his shocked gaze.

  ‘Sorry?’ she repeated, feeling numbed now, so fresh pain wasn’t capable of sinking in.

  ‘First I trapped you with blackmail and now you must feel trapped by our baby. But you can leave. You must leave. A baby is no reason to continue this farce.’

  She sobbed and nodded. ‘I know that.’

  Neither spoke for a long time. Marnie was trying to imagine a life without Nikos and all she saw was the bleakness that had been her bedfellow for these past six years.

  ‘If I could fix this, I would,’ he said.

  She nodded again, resting her cheek on her knees. She had chosen to stay and fight, but so far she had done a lot of listening and no actual fighting. She tried to find the strength in her heart, but it was in ruins.

  ‘There is something else you should know.’ He spoke with a grim finality to his words. ‘I could not find the words to explain last night.’

  ‘Explain what?’ she whispered, wondering at the pain in her throat.

  ‘I have bought Kenington Hall and put it in your name.’

  She lifted her head sharply, almost giving herself whiplash in the process. Everything else disappeared from her mind. ‘You’ve what?’

  He expelled a sigh and crouched down on his haunches so that their eyes were level. ‘You love the property, and I wanted you to know it to be safe. That no matter what happened to your father, or to our marriage, you would have the security of your family home.’

  She let that statement sink in. ‘When did you do this?’

  ‘When I met with your father.’

  She nodded, but nothing was making sense. ‘Were you planning to divorce me even then? Was it to be my consolation prize?’ Grief lanced her. ‘What did I do wrong? I thought we were making this work...’

  ‘You did nothing wrong, Marnie, except fall in love with an arrogant, selfish bastard like me.’ He dropped his head into his hands. ‘I didn’t buy the house because I wanted to leave you. I bought it because I wanted you to understand that you have options. That you and your family are safe. Even before speaking with your mother I knew I had to give you back your freedom before I could even hope to make amends.’

  ‘I have never considered myself to lack freedom,’ she inserted seriously, her eyes sparkling, her mind moving quickly. ‘So you did want to make this marriage a real one?’

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘I cannot say if I ever thought of it in those terms.’

  He dared to lift a hand and touch her soft hair. Fear at what he was on the brink of losing was all around him—a pit of despair he knew would swallow him if he didn’t explain himself better than he was doing now.

  ‘I knew only that I wanted you to look at me with the love you once felt. That I wanted to be able to smile at you with the love that is in here.’ He tapped his hand against his chest.

  Marnie made a sound of disbelief.

  ‘You should leave me. You can go and it will not change how I feel about you. Your father is out of debt. Kenington Hall is safe in your hands. And I will be as involved as you allow me to be in our child’s life. You must decide what will make you happy.’

  Happy? That felt so far away.

  She stood up, something snapping inside her. She could no longer sit still as though this were a normal discussion. Her temper flared. She spun round, her hands on her hips, her face showing the full extent of her rage. There was nothing remotely cold about her now. She was all feelings and flame.

  ‘You’re such an idiot!’ she shouted at the top of her lungs. ‘I have always loved you! Always! Even when I t
hought I was over you, how could I be? I married you! And—newsflash!—I didn’t have to! Even to save my father’s financial situation. I would only ever have married one man on earth. You. Only you.’

  She wrapped her arms around herself.

  ‘You were right before, when you said that you should have stayed and fought for what we were. I don’t think it would have made a difference, but it’s what you do when you’re in love with someone. You don’t bloody walk away. I’m not going to walk away now, because I love you—even when you’re almost impossible to comprehend.’

  He stared at her, but his expression was blank, as though her words were a problem he had to decode.

  ‘I was furious with you when we got married. Livid. What a stupid thing you did, blackmailing me like this! But I still loved you. Every night of this marriage has been like slowly unwrapping a present, piece by piece, getting to find my way back to you—’

  ‘I have pushed you away,’ he interrupted, arguing the sense of her statement.

  ‘Yes, you have—but you’ve also pulled me close. So close that I’ve been inside your soul. You’ve let me in. And you dare turn up with divorce papers, as though our marriage is a simple contract you can dissolve? You dare relegate our love to an agreement that you alone can end?’

  Startled by her anger, he stood, wishing to placate her. He put an arm on her shoulder but she jerked away.

  ‘No!’ she snapped. ‘I’m not finished yet.’

  Her eyes held a warning and, fascinated, he was silent.

  ‘You have been hitting me over the head with the fact that I flicked a switch and walked away from you six years ago. I didn’t. I didn’t flick a switch. I made the worst mistake of my life when I left you, and I’m not going to do it again.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘If you want to divorce me—if you don’t want me any more—then tell me that. You can make that decision. But don’t tell me that leaving you is in my best interests—because I know what life is like without you and there is no life on earth that I want more than this life, here—right here with you.’