Black Widow Bride (15 page)

“Something like that.”

“So they destroyed your reputation.”

“More like they didn’t want the rest of the boys to think they were the only ones who didn’t get lucky.” Her mouth twisted. “The stories of my…accomplishments…grew in the telling.”

“God!” He raked fingers through his long hair, pushing it back. “A lot has happened in the past couple of days…today. There’s a lot I need to think about, Rebecca. I need time.”

She bit her lip. Here it was—the kiss of death. She’d known that what they had now would not survive the long shadow of the past.

“Do you want me and T.J. to go?”

“No.” His blue eyes looked weary. “No. Never that. But I need time to think this through. I’ve discovered that a lot of what I believed is false, I’ve learned some things that have made me not particularly like myself. I need time to come to terms with it all.”

This was all because of his twisted sense of honour. He couldn’t forgive himself for kissing her when he’d pledged himself to another. He couldn’t forgive himself for the hurt he’d caused her. All because of what he saw as his own weakness. Every time he looked at her he’d remember how he’d failed himself.

And what was the point of arguing? He said he wanted time. Rebecca suspected he wanted to inveigle himself out of a dead-end situation. Because of the past, they had no future. What future was there with a woman who every day of his life would remind him of the humiliation of the past? So what if he desired her—had even come to like her? There was no point in fooling herself that he’d ever love her the way she wanted to be loved.

Rebecca raised her chin. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” He gave a sigh of frustration. “Look, I’m flying—”

“Rebecca, we’re home.” Demetra’s voice floated through the house.

Damon swore.

A moment later the door burst open. “Oops, sorry.” Demetra’s hand flew to her mouth.

Damon snarled something in Greek, leaped from the bed and barged out the room, leaving Demetra staring wide-eyed at Rebecca.

“Wow. What did I interrupt? What have I missed? Tell me everything!”

Rebecca had just watched T.J. drift off to sleep when a knock sounded on her bedroom door. She hurried across before the sound could rouse T.J. and yanked the door open.

Damon stood there, his knuckles poised to rap again, his eyes guarded. “I came to say goodbye.”

For an instant her heart stopped and she felt winded.

He must have seen the shock in her eyes, because he pushed his hands into his hair. “I’m leaving to go to L.A. tomorrow, remember? For two weeks?”

The business trip. Of course. Why had she been so shaken? Perhaps because “goodbye” was her worse nightmare? Because he’d said he needed time, and deep down she feared that meant it was over? “Come in.” Rebecca stood aside.

Something—desire?—flashed in Damon’s eyes. But he didn’t move. “No, I’m not coming in. I wanted to give you a cheque.”

Rebecca frowned. “A cheque? For what?”

“For the time and work you’ve spent on the wedding so far—to tide you over until I get back.”

“I can’t take it.” She backed away from the cheque he was thrusting at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve earned it. That’s why you came back to Auckland originally. Take it.”

“That’s not why I came back to Auckland.” Her heart tore and her temper snapped. “You are so blind!”

His head snapped back. “Okay, so why did you agree to do the wedding then?”

She looked away. “Because your mother was sick and you were worried about her.” Her voice was low, even to her own ears.

“Spare me! I can’t talk now.” He thrust it at her and started to walk away.

Without looking at the face of the cheque, she tore it across. “I can’t accept it. It’s in breach of my contract.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He swung around, his eyes narrow slits in that barbarian face. “What contract?”

“The contract selling Dream Occasions. I have a restraining clause.”

“But you sold the business nearly four years ago. It would be unreasonable that you couldn’t work as a wedding planner in the city after two years.”

“I had a clause restraining me from contacting old clients for five years. That’s not up yet.”

“My mother was never your client.”

“But you were.”

And she saw the memory hit him. When he’d thrown the cheque at her the night before his wedding to Fliss, told her to take it as payment for the work she’d done for him and Fliss. Defiantly she’d taken it, holding the gaze that was full of contempt. At first she’d kept it as a reminder of her stupidity for falling for a man who hated her.

And later, when he’d served the separation agreement on Fliss, she’d endorsed the cheque and given it to Fliss. When Fliss died, the proceeds of Fliss’s estate together with the payout from Fliss’s life insurance policy had all been invested.T.J. would inherit a tidy sum when he was twenty-five.

“So, I’m sorry, I can’t accept that payment.” She held Damon’s narrowed gaze, refusing to drop her own.

“Why?”

She pretended to misunderstand him. “I told you—the contract.”

“No.” He made an impatient gesture. “Why did you agree to help with the wedding?”

She gave a little huff of impatience. “Don’t you listen to anything I say? I told you that, too. Because your mother was ill. And you were worried about her. How could I turn my back on you both then? When you were suffering? How could I walk away when your mother might be dying?”

He flinched. “It was the one thing guaranteed to change your mind, wasn’t it? After all the losses you have suffered, you couldn’t leave me to face the chance that my mother might die alone. And I never even realised. Stupid!” He banged his palm against his forehead. “But you should still have told me you couldn’t accept payment.”

“I did. I kept repeating it. But you wouldn’t listen!”

“I thought that you agreed to do the wedding because I doubled my offer. I thought it was the money. And when you told me your mother had deserted you and James, that you didn’t know who your father was, I started to understand why you were driven to be so self-sufficient. I realised why money is so important to you and for the first time it stopped maddening me that I’d had to pay you a damned fortune to get you back to Auckland. But, as usual, I screwed up.” His eyes were a dark, pained blue. “I don’t know anything about what goes on in that beautiful head, do I? God, what a mess.” He sank his hands into his face. When he finally raised his head, Damon looked haggard. “It never changes, does it?”

“It really doesn’t matter,” she said.

Damon watched her with an expression she could not read. The silence was unnerving. At last he exhaled and said flatly,

“It matters.” Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

The knowledge that Damon had jetted out to L.A. made the house feel as if the heart had been ripped out. Rebecca found it hard to settle down on Monday morning to make the calls she needed to. Nothing filled the hollowness within her. Finally she made a deal with herself. She would go back to Tohunga for a few days, maybe a week. But only after she’d completed the list of tasks she’d set herself for the week—that would give her a goal. And she’d start with finalising the seating arrangements for the wedding with Soula, which Demetra—typically—wanted no part in.

She found Soula in the lounge.

“Rebecca, pethi, don’t hover in the doorway. Come sit down. I’ve been wanting to speak to you, child.” Soula set aside the piece of tapestry she’d been working on. “Has T.J. gone with Demetra?”

Rebecca nodded. “He loves helping Demetra. Personally I think it’s the joy of making mud. But today is a special treat. T.J.’s going to watch the landscapers transplanting giant full-grown palms into Demetra’s front garden. He can’t wait to see the crane.”

“We must be grateful. He’s recovered well from a nasty experience.”

Rebecca crossed the room and sank down beside Soula. “Dr. Campbell told me it would take a while before he feels completely secure, that he’ll need a lot of attention and love until he comes to terms with it.” Rebecca hesitated. “Soula, there is something I need to tell you.”

Oh, where to begin? Rebecca fidgeted with her fingers.

“What is it, pethi?” Soula’s eyes were sombre. “Ah, don’t tell me you can’t arrange Savvas and Demetra’s wedding? That you are leaving?”

How had Soula known?

Rebecca looked up. “I need a break for a few days. I want to go to Tohunga and check that everything is okay with my business and my house. But, don’t worry, I will be back to finish arranging the wedding.”

“Pah.” Soula flapped an arm. “I’m not worried about the wedding. I’m more worried that once you leave you may never return.”

“I’ll be back,” Rebecca promised.

“When will you go?”

“I thought I’d leave at noon on Friday. That way I can reach Tohunga by late afternoon.”

Soula slid her a sideways look. “Does Damon know about this?”

She shook her head. “But he’s going to be away for two weeks. I’m only going for a week—I’ll be back by the time he returns.”

Soula gave an impatient puff. “Well, what can I say? If you need to check on your business, then you must do so, my child. Now tell me about T.J.”

“T.J.?” Rebecca could feel the blood draining from her face. “What do you want to know?”

“When do you intend to tell me that he is not your son?”

“Is it so obvious?” Shaken, she stared at Damon’s mother. “How did you know?”

“Oh, Rebecca, Rebecca.” Soula shook her head sadly. “Except for the dark hair and the eyes, he is the spitting image of Fliss. The curls, the heart-shaped face, the dimples are all Fliss.”

She’d already had this discussion with Damon. It was good to have it all out in the open. She was so tired of living a lie.

“So why did you pretend yesterday that you thought he was my son? Mine and Damon’s?”

“I wanted to give that son of mine a shove in a direction he should have taken a long time ago.” Soula gave a weak but wicked smile. “That way everything works out. You keep T.J., whom you obviously adore, and T.J. gets to have the love of a mother and his blood father.”

“Wait a moment.” This was going to be hard. But she’d committed to the truth, so there was no other way. Rebecca picked her words carefully. “Soula, T.J. is not Damon’s son.”

“Of course he is. He has the Asteriades eyes.”

“No, those are Fliss’s eyes—”

“Yes, they are blue, and I grant that they are the same shape as his mother’s. But the colour is pure Asteriades. My husband had those eyes, too.”

Rebecca was shaking her head. “No, you’re wrong.” She moved closer, took Soula’s hands in hers. “Look, this is going to come as a shock, but Fliss didn’t love Damon. She loved someone else—”

“Oh, I know all that.” Soula gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You know?” Rebecca stared. “But how?”

“I’m a mother. I knew that Fliss didn’t love my son. But neither did he love her. Each had their own agenda for marrying—and, no, it wasn’t love. I didn’t approve. I was very disappointed with my eldest son’s choice.”

“T.J. is the son of—”

“Hush,” said Soula. “Don’t say anything that you will later regret. T.J. is Damon’s son, and when you marry that will be final.”

“No, we’re not getting married.” Rebecca shook her head at Soula’s obstinacy but couldn’t help feeling flattered that Soula wanted her in the family. “Thank you, Soula. But it won’t work.”

Soula sagged back on the sofa, her wrinkles deeper, looking every one of her years. “You know, I told that stubborn son of mine not to come back to Auckland without you. For once in his life he did what I asked. I think he was scared I was going to die. I wanted him to see you again and fall in love with you. I want grandchildren.”

So Soula had been scheming. She hadn’t been well, but she’d seen an opportunity to manipulate. A true Asteriades. The ends always justified the means. But Rebecca couldn’t stir up any anger. Instead she gave the older woman a wan smile. “You are a truly wicked woman, but I wish you hadn’t meddled.”

“I wasn’t well. I didn’t lie about that.” Soula tried to look righteous. Then she spoiled it by shooting Rebecca a guilty look. “There’s something else I shouldn’t have done, so I’m not even going to tell you about it, because it has the potential to make everything so much worse. I should’ve left everything well enough alone, never tried to get you two back together again.”

“But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see you again.”

“Oh, Rebecca.” Silver tears glistened in the corners of Soula’s eyes. “You are the daughter I wish I had. So gracious, so loving.”

Rebecca’s own throat closed up. “You know, I don’t really remember my mother. But in my dreams, she’s you. But sometimes no amount of forcing will make something work if it’s not meant to be.” She bent and planted a kiss on Soula’s forehead. “Damon and I, well, there is something between us, but we’ve agreed to give each other a little time and space. I’m going to miss you while I’m in Tohunga. But I will be back and I want you to promise not to interfere again. This is something that Damon and I must sort out, not a fairy godmother’s wand.”