Bought for the Billionaire's Revenge(29)

‘Divorce?’

‘I was wrong.’ The words were saturated with bleak despair. He was begging her to understand. ‘I regret everything I said to you that day in my office. I heard your father was going bankrupt and this idea came to me. I acted on it before I could realise what a stupid mistake it was. I need to undo it.’

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 to 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?’