Читать книгу Postcards From… Collection - Maisey Yates - Страница 65

CHAPTER TWELVE

EMMA WOKE EARLY with a start, the big bed cold and empty, just as it had been since the day Jess had arrived and Nikolai had moved into a hotel. He was stepping back from her as if he too had doubts. Why hadn’t she tried harder to sort things when they’d been at the hospital?

She looked around her. The early-morning sun shined with wicked brightness into her bedroom, seeming to highlight the wedding dress hanging in readiness for that afternoon, when she would step into it and seal the hardest deal of her life.

Could she do it? Could she put on the white gown of lace and become Nikolai’s wife, knowing he would never love her?

She pulled on her jeans and jumper and put on a pair of flat pumps. She couldn’t stay and look at the wedding dress any longer. She had to get away, get out of the apartment and think. The sensation that she was doing the wrong thing had taken over, blocking out everything else.

‘Where are you going?’ Jess asked, quickly taking in her casual clothes as she went into the bedroom.

‘I need to go for a walk. I need to think, Jess. I need to think really hard before I make a terrible mistake.’ Emma looked at the long pale-blue dress she and Jess had selected the day she’d arrived. It hung in readiness, mocking, from the wardrobe door. During those few hours when she’d tried her own dress on for the final time, Jess had enjoyed herself so much selecting styles and colours that her enthusiasm had become infectious and for a while Emma had believed everything was going to be all right.

But it could never be all right. Nikolai could never love her as she loved him. If she married him it would be the worst mistake of her life.

‘What’s the matter, Em?’ Jess crossed the room quickly and Emma wondered how she was ever going to tell her. How did you look your sister in the eye and tell her you were throwing away her chance of fulfilling her dream, of being what she wanted to be, and worse, subjecting a child to a life without a father?

‘I’m not sure I can do this.’ Emma felt ill at the concern on her sister’s face and wished she hadn’t said anything, but she had to. In about six hours she would have to put the wedding dress on. What if she couldn’t? What if she couldn’t unite herself with Nikolai in marriage? She had to tell Jess something, had to give her some warning that things weren’t as they should be.

‘I thought you were happy, that you loved him,’ Jess said, a hint of panic in her voice, and that was the last thing Emma wanted her sister to do. They’d had enough panic and upset in their lives. How had this turned into such a mess?

‘I was,’ she said with a sigh as she looked past her sister and to the view of the green trees of the park beyond. ‘And I do love him.’

I love him too much and I can’t face his rejection.

‘So what’s wrong, then?’ Jess touched her gently on the arm, pulling her back from her thoughts, back to what she had to do.

She closed her eyes against the pain of knowing she’d fallen in love with Nikolai even after he’d readily confessed he couldn’t love anyone. She couldn’t stop the words any longer, couldn’t hold them back. ‘He doesn’t love me.’

She felt Jess’s hand slip from her arm, but she couldn’t look at her and tell her what it was all about, why they were really getting married, so pulled away. Even when Jess spoke again she couldn’t look at her. She’d failed her. If she ran out on Nikolai now, she’d be throwing away the chance for her baby to know a different life. ‘I think you are wrong about that.’

‘Don’t, Jess, you don’t know the half of it.’ Emma’s hot retort left her lips before she had time to consider what she wanted to say.

‘Last night he looked as if he’d wanted to eat you alive.’ Jess’s bold words, so out of character for her little sister, didn’t ease the doubt; instead, it increased it. Lust had been responsible for that look on Nikolai’s face. Nothing other than desire-fuelled lust.

‘That’s not love, Jess, and it’s not something to build your future on. Don’t ever fall for that.’ But wasn’t that what she herself had done—fallen for the power of raw lust?

‘You’re wrong, Em. What I saw in his eyes last night was love. Anyone can see that.’

‘Don’t be so silly. You’re not even seventeen. How can you know what love looks like?’ Emma was becoming irritated with this conversation. All she wanted to do was leave the confines of the apartment. She needed time to think what to do next—after she’d told Nikolai they wouldn’t be getting married.

‘I know it was love, Em, I just know it. He loves you.’ Jess pleaded with her, but it was too late. She’d made up her mind. ‘Don’t let your past stand in the way of your future. You are not Mother and he’s not your father.’

That was so painfully close to the truth, she didn’t want to hear it. ‘I have to get out of here.’

* * *

For nearly an hour Emma all but marched around the park but none of it gave her any joy, any release from the feeling of impending doom which loomed over her. All she could think about was that she had to tell Nikolai it was over. She stopped walking and found a bench and, sitting down, took out her phone. Her hands shook and, even though her heart was breaking, it was what she had to do. This sham of an engagement had gone on long enough. It was time to end it.

She pressed Nikolai’s number and listened to the ringing tone, part of her wanting him to pick up, part of her wishing he wouldn’t, that she could hang up and walk away. The message system took over, and for a moment she nearly ended the call without leaving a message, but if she didn’t do this now, didn’t say what she needed to, it would be too late. He’d be waiting for her to arrive at the church he’d booked for the small, intimate ceremony with only his family and Jess as guests. They might have struck a cold deal for their child’s sake, but she couldn’t marry him knowing he’d never love her.

‘It’s me, Emma,’ she said, not liking the quiver in her voice, and she tried to sound much sterner. The message she left had to be decisive and firm. ‘I can’t do this, Nikolai. It was wrong of me to accept your deal. I can’t marry you. I’m going back to London with Jess—tonight.’

She ended the call and stared at the phone as if it might explode, but inside she knew she’d done the right thing. She couldn’t marry a man who didn’t love her, not when her love for him grew deeper and stronger each day. All along she’d thought she was doing the right thing, but now she couldn’t see any happiness for her or the baby in a loveless marriage.

She looked at the time on her phone: almost ten. The wedding was due to take place at three. Nikolai had plenty of time to sort things out and make all the necessary cancellations, just as she had time to get a flight back to London booked for her and Jess. She hoped he wouldn’t come and try and persuade her to go through with the wedding. Would he really do that when marriage and fatherhood were the very things he’d admitted not wanting? She wanted to be able to leave in peace. Of course, they’d have to settle things to do with the baby, but that could wait until she was more in control of her emotions, more able to be strong and hold back her love.

It was what she had to do, but she couldn’t move, as if by doing so it would make it worse. But how much worse could it get? She was pregnant with the child of the man she’d lost her heart to and all he wanted was a loveless marriage, a convenient deal. The spark of sexual attraction wouldn’t keep the marriage alive for ever, and once it dwindled to nothing she didn’t think she could continue to live the lie—or hide her love.

She turned off her phone and as she sat in the peace of the park, letting the birdsong soothe her, she wished she could turn off her emotions as easily. All she needed was a few minutes to compose herself and then she’d go back to the apartment, book the flights and leave New York. She could explain to Jess on the long flight home, admit it had been a mistake to come here, and an even bigger mistake to accept Nikolai’s deal, whatever extras he’d thrown her way.

* * *

Nikolai tried to get Emma on the phone again as he strode through the park. Jess had told him to try there after he’d called at the apartment. Anger boiled up inside him as he heard her message going round and round in his head. She didn’t want to get married. I can’t do this, Nikolai: that was what she’d said.

Each time he replayed the words in his mind anger sizzled deep inside him. Anger and rejection. He should have seen it coming. What she’d said at the hospital after the scan suddenly made sense. While he’d been bonding with his child and liking the idea of fatherhood, of settling down with Emma, she’d been thinking of ending the engagement and calling off the wedding.

Anger simmered, pushing him to walk hard and fast through the park. He had no idea where to begin looking and savagely pulled out his phone and tried to call her again. Nothing. She’d turned it off. If she thought a switched-off phone would be enough to deter him, she was very much mistaken. He wasn’t used to people backing out of a deal and he certainly wasn’t accustomed to being denied what he wanted—and he wanted Emma.

The thought trickled through him like a mountain stream thawing after a long, hard winter. He wanted her, really wanted her. Not just with the hot lust that had driven him mad, but with something much deeper. It wasn’t anything to do with the baby. He wanted Emma.

The park was full of morning joggers and dog walkers wrestling with groups of dogs as he stopped and looked around for Emma. She’d been so enamoured with the park since her arrival; she could be anywhere. A strong curse left his lips as he marched on towards the lake; then, as he rounded a corner, he could see her through the trees. She was sitting on a bench, looking away into the distance, totally absorbed in thought.

He reined in the instinct to rush over to her and demand to know just what the message had been all about, and instead walked slowly towards her, taking advantage of the fact that she was looking the other way. Her long hair gleamed in the morning sunshine as he got closer and he rubbed the pads of his thumb and finger together, remembering the silky softness of her hair. Would he ever feel it again?

Emma turned to look his way and he stopped walking, frozen to the spot with something that seemed horribly like fear, but fear of what? He saw the moment she realised it was him, saw the tension make her body stiffen, and the realisation that he did that to her hurt more than he knew. She was either afraid of him or hated him for what he’d done to her.

She didn’t move, but she did look down, as she always did when something was difficult to do. Was her reluctance to leave an invitation for him to join her? He didn’t care what the hell it was. He was going to sit with her regardless.

I can’t let the woman I love walk out on me.

That thought crashed into him and he stopped again, his heart pounding as he realised exactly what that thought meant. He’d felt the same at the hospital. Why hadn’t he seen it then?

He looked at her, sitting on the bench in the morning sunshine only a short distance away, yet it was like a chasm had opened up right there in the park. It yawned between them, becoming greater with each passing second.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t cross it.

He’d pushed her to the other side of it right from the very beginning and she’d been more than happy to be there. She’d agreed with everything he’d said about commitment and love, accepted the cold terms of his marriage deal. She scorned love or happy-ever-after just as much as he had, but now, as if he’d finally opened his eyes and seen what was real, he had to accept that he did want all that. He did want Emma in his life, as his wife and the mother of his baby, but not out of any obligation—out of love.

Did he risk everything and tell her how he felt, that he loved her after all he’d said to her? Or did he try and persuade her to keep the deal in the hope he’d got it wrong? Maybe panic had filled his head with such nonsense as love.

But he didn’t just feel that desolate distance in his head. He felt it in his chest—in his heart. That sensation he’d experienced since the moment he’d first met Emma was back, squeezing tighter than ever, as if trying to get him to acknowledge the truth, acknowledge it as love.

She looked at him, apprehension clear on her face, and finally he managed to move towards her. Each step was harder than the previous one. How could he tell her what he really felt when he’d only just realised the truth of it himself?

‘Did you think a quick phone message would be enough to extricate you from our deal?’ That wasn’t what he wanted to say at all, but the protective barrier around his heart wasn’t just keeping her out, it was locking the truth inside him, preventing him from saying what he had to say, what he wanted to say.

She looked up at him as he came to stand in front of her, those gorgeous green eyes narrowing against the sun. Or was it the harshness in his voice? ‘I didn’t expect you not to answer.’

‘I was in the shower,’ he said quickly, banishing the memories of the time they had spent in the shower together not so many days ago.

She looked down and away from him again. Was she recalling the same thing, the same heated passion? He sat down next to her and once again her gaze met his. ‘It doesn’t matter, Nikolai, because I can’t marry you.’

‘Not even for the baby?’ He flung the question at her as he clenched his teeth against the panic which flowed through him like a river in flood. He couldn’t let her go, let her just walk out of his life, not now he knew what he really felt for her. How long had he loved her? The thought barely materialised before he knew the answer. He’d loved her from the first night they’d spent together in Vladimir, maybe even the first moment he’d seen her.

‘No.’ She shook her head and looked directly ahead of her, as if distracted by the surroundings, but he sensed she was holding back on him. But why? And what?

* * *

Emma looked at the pain in his eyes and knew he was blaming his past, his father’s mistakes. Her heart wrenched and she desperately wanted to reach out to him, to reassure him it was nothing to do with that. But, if she did, she’d weaken and the last thing she wanted to blurt out was that she couldn’t marry anyone who didn’t love her as she loved them, that she couldn’t put herself in the path of such rejection.

‘No. I know it sounds very clichéd, but it’s me.’ She looked into his eyes, seeing their darkness harder than they’d ever been.

‘So you are quite happy to back out of our deal.’ His voice was deceptively calm and that unsettled her even more. Was he just going through the motions of asking her to reconsider when he’d rather book flights back to London for Jess and her himself?

‘For our child’s sake, yes.’ She skirted around the truth, her heart pounding harder than ever, and despite the warm spring sun she shivered as skitters of apprehension slithered down her spine.

‘Our child will benefit from the marriage, but will it benefit from being brought up by you alone, while I am on the other side of the world?’ The scorn in that question was almost too much for her. Was he deliberately trying to make it harder for her or was he finding a way to make her worst nightmare come true and take her baby from her?

Whatever he was doing, this had to be sorted now. She couldn’t go on for the rest of her pregnancy wondering what he would do next. ‘Our baby will be better off with two parents who are apart and happy than two living under the same roof that are unhappy.’

‘And will you be happy?’ The question threw her off guard, as did the change of his tone. He sounded defeated. She’d never heard Nikolai sound like that.

‘All I want is for my child to grow up happy, to never feel the sting of rejection from its father.’ She wanted to say more, to make him aware just how anxious she was, but stopped the words and the pain from flowing out.

‘And you think I will reject my son or daughter?’ Hurt resounded in his voice, but his eyes narrowed with annoyance. ‘After all I saw and witnessed as a child, do you really think I want to hurt my own child?’

She looked down, knowing her words had been taken the wrong way, and she hated herself for hurting him. He’d done all a young boy could to protect his mother and even now, as a grown man, was doing the same. That was why he’d insisted on the pretence of love at the engagement party and why he’d gone to Vladimir in the first instance.

Instinctively she reached out to him, placing her hand on his arm. ‘No, Nikolai, that’s not what I thought. I don’t want my child to know what I’ve known. I can’t stand by and let you reject them when they are no longer any use in your life.’

He took her hand in his, the warmth of it briefly chasing the apprehension away ‘I would never do that, Emma, never.’

She looked at him as his eyes softened and she almost lost her resolve, but his next words brought it hurtling back to her.

‘I’m not about to let you walk away. I want to see my child grow up and, just as I never want to be like my father, I promise I will never do what yours has done to you.’

‘It doesn’t mean we should marry, though.’

‘We will marry as planned, Emma.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In less than four hours, you will be my wife.’