Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge(28)

‘I have some business to take care of,’ Nikos murmured once they’d disembarked. His Ferrari was waiting on the Tarmac. ‘I will need to go straight to my office once we’re home.’

Marnie, secretly glad for this reprieve, time to ascertain whether or not she was in fact pregnant, nodded. ‘Okay.’

It was all Marnie could do not to tell him of her suspicions as he drove the now familiar roads to his mansion. But she wouldn’t do that. Not until she knew for sure that there was a baby.

It would be a surprise—a shock, really.

But it didn’t necessarily follow that it would be a nightmare, did it?

* * *

‘A baby between us would never be magical and wonderful. It is the very last thing I would want.’

The words circled her mind.

She waited until he’d left, and then for Eléni to arrive, and somehow was casually able to ask for a ride to the markets to pick up some groceries.

The whole way there, making halting chitchat with Eléni, Marnie wondered what it would mean if she was actually, truly pregnant.

She paid for the groceries, stuffing the pregnancy test into her handbag rather than stowing it with the other shopping, and listened to Eléni the whole way home.

Finally she removed herself to her room to find out, once and for all, if her suspicions were right.

The test showed exactly what she had known it would.

Two bright blue lines.

She was pregnant.

With Nikos’s baby.

Elation danced deep in her being. She felt its unmistakable warmth zing through her and she treasured it—because she knew that it would not last long. Complications would surely arise soon enough and take away the pleasure she felt.

For it was an incontrovertible truth that no matter what she chose to do she would be a part of Nikos’s life for ever. And he of hers.

Where was her despair at that prospect? Her concern?

She looked into her heart and saw nothing—just joy.

Tears ran down her cheeks and for the first time in her life they were happy tears. Tears that warmed her and blessed her and made her feel as if she wanted to shout her euphoria from the rooftops. It was not a simple joy—there would be complications—but they paled in comparison to the happiness that shone before her.

She needed to tell him—but not on the phone. She would wait until he returned and leave him in no doubt as to how pleased she was with this turn of events. Even though she knew they had broken his cardinal rule...

The minutes of the day seemed to gang up on her, deciding that they’d like to drag their way mutinously towards the hour of Nikos’s arrival gleefully slowly rather than with the alacrity she craved.

Just wondering when you’ll be home?

She sent the message, her impatience burning through her, fear threatening to take hold of her.

Not for a while. N.

Well, he’d be home eventually, and then she’d just have to put her hope in his hands and pray he didn’t crush it.

The first sign that there was a problem was that Nikos didn’t drive himself home. A luxurious limousine pulled up out at the front and Marnie, hovering in her office with its view of the driveway, wondered briefly if they had unexpected company.

When Nikos emerged from the back his large frame seemed different. Slightly unsteady. He stood for a moment, a hand braced on the roof of the car, his eyes scanning the front of his house. Why did he look so grim? Had something happened?

Concerned, she moved quickly through the house, reaching the front door at the same time he did. She heard his keys drop to the ground outside and pulled the door inwards, her expression perplexed.

Until she smelled the Scotch and realised that her husband—the father of her tiny, tiny baby—had obviously been drinking. Heavily.

‘Nik...?’ she said with disbelief, holding the door wide and letting him in.

Marnie had never seen him anything other than in complete control. She was struggling to make sense of what might have happened in the hours since they’d returned from London to lead him to be in this state.

‘My wife,’ he said, as though it brought him little pleasure.

Confusion thick in her mind, she waited for him to move deeper into the house so she could close the door. ‘Have you been out?’

‘No,’ he muttered. ‘I have been in my office.’

Unconsciously, she moved a hand to her stomach. ‘Drinking?’

He expelled an angry breath. ‘Apparently.’

Marnie nodded, but he still wasn’t making sense. The uncharacteristic act jarred with everything she knew about this man. He was a disciplined control freak.

Out of nowhere old jealousies and suspicions erupted. ‘Alone?’

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

‘Why?’ she asked finally, putting a hand on his elbow in order to guide him towards the kitchen.

But he pulled away, walking determinedly ahead of her, his physical ability apparently not as affected as she’d first thought.

She walked behind him, and once in the kitchen moved to the fridge. As if on autopilot, she pulled out the ingredients for a toasted cheese sandwich, her eyes flicking to him every few moments. And he stared at her. He stared at her with an intensity that filled her body with fire and flame even as she was laced with confusion and anxiety.

So telling him about the baby wasn’t going to happen, she admitted to herself. At least not until the following day, when he might be in a headspace to comprehend what she was saying.

‘Why, Marnie?’ He repeated her question in a tone that was so like the way he’d spoken in the past it made her chest heavy; his words seemed to ring with disdain and dislike.

She tried not to let it fill her heart but it was there. Doubt. Hurt. Aching sadness.

‘What’s wrong?’ she said finally. ‘Has something happened?’

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. ‘Your mother believes you’ve spent the last six years pining for me. That you have loved me this whole time.’

Marnie started, her eyes flying to his involuntarily. Her mouth was dry. ‘I...I don’t understand why that matters. What my mother says...how I felt. What difference does it make right now to this marriage?’

He spoke slowly, his tone emphatic. ‘Did you stay single and celibate because you love me?’

Marnie’s heart dropped.

She spun away from him but Nikos raised his voice.

‘Damn it, Marnie. You broke up with me. You walked away from us.’

‘I know,’ she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. The happiness of the last twenty-four hours was being swallowed by old hurts. ‘I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk about the past any more?’

He slammed his palm against the benchtop. ‘Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you call me when you realised you were still in love with me?’

‘You’d moved on,’ she said simply. ‘And nothing had changed for me.’

‘You were so emphatic when you ended it. You convinced me you didn’t care for me, that you had never been serious. You completely echoed your father’s feelings about me and men of my upbringing.’ He spat the word like a curse.

She recoiled as though he’d slapped her. ‘I had to do that! You wouldn’t have accepted it unless I made sure you truly believed it was over.’ She shook her head and no longer bothered to check the tears that stung her eyes. ‘I hated saying those things to you when it was the opposite of how I felt.’

He was not his usual self, but even on a bad day and after a fair measure of Scotch Nikos was better than anyone at debating and reasoning.

He honed his thoughts quickly back to the point at hand. ‘You admit you’ve loved me this whole time?’

Marnie froze, her only movement the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tried to draw breath into her lungs. She felt that she’d been caught—not in a lie so much as in the truth.

‘I would never have done this if I’d known,’ he said after a beat of silence had passed—one he took for her acquiescence.

‘Done what?’ She didn’t look at him. Her voice was a whisper into the room.

‘This marriage...’

Her heart fell as if from a great height. It was pulverised at her feet, a tangling mass of heaving hopes.

‘It was the worst kind of wrong to use you like this.’

She couldn’t stifle her sob. ‘Is that what you were doing?’ She forced herself to look at him—and then wished she hadn’t when the intensity of his expression left her short of breath.

He spoke with a cold detachment that was so much worse than the heat of an argument. ‘I forced you to marry me. Just as your parents forced you to leave me. I am no better than them. Hell, I consider my crimes to be considerably greater.’

He pushed the back of the envelope open and lifted a piece of paper out. One page. When he handed it to her it was still warm from having been nestled close to his chest all afternoon.

‘But at least I can atone for my sins.’

‘What’s this?’ she asked, even as her eyes dropped to the page.

‘Petition for Divorce’ was typed neatly across the top, and as she skimmed lower she saw her name written beside Nikos’s. He’d already signed his name. A masculine scrawl of hard intent.

Marnie was still. So still. Briefly she wondered if she might pass out. She felt hot and cold, as she’d done on the flight. She dropped the page and moved backwards until her bottom connected with the bench. She stayed there, glad for the support. Her head was spinning.