Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife(48)

So she hadn’t imagined it. There was a gaping hole in their marriage. She knotted her hands around the mug and raised it to her lips, glad to have the opportunity to at least partially obscure her face for what was coming next.

‘Then I need you to tell me how you feel about it.’ Tell me there’s a chance there might not be a gaping hole for ever.

‘I don’t think my feelings are the issue, do you?

Libby frowned. ‘Of course they are.’

Rion shook his head. No, he knew what this was. She wanted him to come out and say that he wasn’t a hundred per cent happy about it to stop her feeling guilty because that was how she felt. She was out of luck.

‘I wanted a child five years ago, Libby. I still do.’

‘What?’ Libby choked on her coffee.

He did a double-take, suddenly aware that perhaps they’d been talking at cross purposes. ‘You did want to talk to me about the fact that you’re pregnant, didn’t you?’

‘That I’m…?’ She looked at him, aghast, her mind struggling to process what he was saying. ‘No, that it isn’t… I’m not— Why would you think that?’

His swollen heart shrank and his voice became droll. ‘It is a frequent outcome when two people have a lot of unprotected sex. Even two people as different as you and I.’

The objects of the room began to blur before her eyes. ‘But we haven’t been having unprotected sex. I told you, I’m—’

Horror coursed through Libby’s veins. That night at the mayoral residence, when she’d said using a condom wasn’t necessary, she hadn’t actually spelt out why, had she? But surely he couldn’t possibly have assumed that without discussion, when their relationship was still so fragile, she’d meant—?

‘You’re what?’ he said impatiently.

Yes, she realised suddenly, he could have. Her head began to whirl. He’d spent the last month making love to her as though it was nothing but a functional exercise because that was precisely what it had been. He’d been trying to get her pregnant. And, much as she longed to believe that the reason he wanted that was because he loved her, the look on his face told her it categorically was not. For when had he ever promised any such thing? Never. He’d invited her here to play the role of his wife, and then he’d asked her to stay on. She realised now it was just an extension of their original agreement. Yes, maybe she had convinced him that an independent wife was better than a bland, clichéd one—yes, all his motives were honourable—but at the end of the day what mattered most was his electorate and showing them he was the ultimate family man in the most deliberate way there was.

‘I’m on the pill,’ she said wretchedly. ‘I thought you realised when I said—’

‘Of course,’ Rion bit out, humiliation washing over him. ‘How foolish of me. It should have been obvious that you’d do everything in your power to protect yourself from having my child.’

Libby shook her head. ‘I was on the pill anyway. I have been for five years.’

His nostrils flared in disgust. The way she’d expected them to that night, when she’d naïvely taken his lack of reaction as a sign that their marriage was on the mend. She should have realised he hadn’t understood what she was saying at all.

‘For convenience,’ she added. ‘Never for contraception.’

Never? Rion’s head shot up. Her eyes met his unhesitantly. Was she saying…? Yes, he realised, she was. Part of him felt infinitely triumphant, yet the other part of him only grew angrier.

‘So you’ve always known that no other man could bring you the pleasure that I do?’ He slammed the jug of hot coffee down on the breakfast bar. ‘Doesn’t that tell you that Mother Nature never intended you to give a damn about class?’

Libby frowned. ‘Class?’

Rion exploded at her ingenuous expression. ‘For God’s sake, Libby! Isn’t it about time you stopped pretending? Maybe the thought that you share the same prejudice as your father does make you ashamed, but I already know it’s why you walked away. I know it’s why you fought this for so long, and I know it’s why the idea of having my child disgusts you.’

Libby’s eyes frantically searched his face. She was hoping she’d misunderstood him. But for the first time in weeks his expression was one of openness and honesty. The kind of expression she’d longed to see but which she’d now do anything to make disappear.

Her mind traced back over the past—how obsessed he’d always been with bettering their situation in Athens, how reluctant he’d always been to discuss his past with her—had it really been because he believed she didn’t think he was good enough?