Marriage: To Claim His Twins Read online

  ‘I’ve got some business matters to attend to this evening,’ Sander told her as they made a detour on the way back to the hotel to allow the boys to walk in Hyde Park—a suggestion from Sander which Ruby had welcomed, hoping that the fresh air would ease the pounding in her head.

  After acknowledging Sander’s comment Ruby focused on keeping an eye on the twins, who were walking ahead of them.

  Sander continued. ‘But first I’ve arranged for a jeweller to come to the hotel with a selection of wedding and engagement rings. I’ve also made an appointment for you tomorrow morning at the spa and hair salon in Harvey Nichols, and then afterwards a personal shopper will help you choose your own new wardrobe. I thought I’d take the boys to the Natural History Museum whilst you’re doing that, to keep them occupied.’

  Ruby stopped walking and turned to look at him, her eyes blazing with temper.

  ‘I don’t need a spa appointment, or a new hairstyle, or a new wardrobe, thank you very much. And I certainly don’t want an engagement ring.’

  She was lying, of course. Or did she think she could get more out of him by pretending she didn’t want anything?

  Oblivious to Sander’s thoughts, Ruby continued, ‘And if my present appearance isn’t good enough for you, then too bad. Because it’s good enough for me.’

  Quickly hurrying after the twins, Ruby tried to ignore how unwell she was feeling. Even though she couldn’t see him she knew that Sander had caught up with her and was standing behind her. Her body could feel him there, but stubbornly she refused to turn round.

  ‘You have two choices,’ Sander informed her coolly. ‘Either you accept the arrangements I have made for you, or you will accept the clothes I shall instruct the store to select on your behalf. There is no option for you, as my wife, to dress as you are doing now. You are so eager to display your body to male eyes that you aren’t even wearing a coat—all the better for them to assess what is on offer, no doubt.’

  ‘That’s a disgusting thing to say, and totally untrue. You must know the reason I’m not wearing a coat is—’ Abruptly Ruby stopped speaking realising that she had allowed her anger to betray her into making an admission she had no wish to make.

  ‘Yes?’ Sander probed.

  ‘Is that I forgot to bring one with me,’ Ruby told him lamely. The truth was that she had not been able to afford to buy herself one—not with the twins constantly outgrowing their clothes. But she wasn’t going to expose herself to more humiliation by admitting that to Sander.

  How could he be marrying a woman like this one? Sander wondered savagely. It would have suited his purposes far more if the report he had received from the agents he had hired to find Ruby had included something to suggest that she was a neglectful mother, thus giving him real grounds for legally removing them from their mother. The report, though, had done nothing of the sort—had actually dared to claim that Ruby was a good mother, the kind of mother whose absence from their lives would damage his sons. That was a risk he was not prepared to take.

  Ignoring Ruby’s defiant statement, Sander went on, ‘The boys are approaching an age where they will be aware of appearance and other people’s opinions. They are going to have to deal with settling into a different environment, and I’m sure that the last thing you want to do is make it harder for them. I have a duty to the Konstantinakos position as the ruling and thus most important family on the island. That duty involves a certain amount of entertaining. It will be expected that as my wife you take part in that. Additionally, my sister, her friends, and the wives of those of my executives who live in Athens are very fashion-conscious. They would be quick to sense that our marriage is not all it should be were you to make a point of dressing as you do now. And that could impact on our sons.’

  Our sons. Ruby felt as though her heart had been squeezed by a giant hand. She was very tempted to resort to the immature tactic of pointing out that since he hadn’t even been aware of the twins’ existence until recently he was hardly in a position to take a stance on delivering advice to her on what might or might not affect them—but what was the point? He had won—again, she was forced to acknowledge. Because now she would be very conscious of the fact that she was being judged by her appearance, and that if she was found wanting it would reflect on the twins. Acceptance by their peers was very important to children. Ruby knew that even at the boys’ young age children hated being ‘different’ or being embarrassed. For their sake she would have to accept Sander’s charity, even though her pride hated the idea.

  She hated feeling so helpless and dependent on others. She loved her sisters, and was infinitely grateful to them for all that they had done for her and the boys, but it was hard sometimes always having to depend on others, never being able to claim the pride and self-respect that came from being financially self-supporting. She had hoped that once the boys were properly settled at school she might be able to earn a degree that ultimately would allow her to find work, but now she was going to be even more dependent on the financial generosity of someone else than she was already. But it wasn’t her pride that was important, Ruby reminded herself. It was her sons’ emotional happiness. They hadn’t asked to be born. And she hadn’t asked for Sander’s opinion on her appearance—or his money. She was twenty-three, and it was ridiculous of her to feel so helpless and humiliated that she was close to defeated tears.

  To conceal her emotions she leaned down towards the boys, to warn them not to run too far ahead of them, watching as they nodded their heads.

  It was when she straightened up that it happened. Perhaps she moved too quickly. Ruby didn’t know, but one minute she was straightening up and the next she felt so dizzy from the pain in her head that she lost her balance. She would have fallen if Sander hadn’t reacted so quickly, reaching out to grab hold of her so that she fell against his body rather than tumbling to the ground.

  Immediately she was transported back to the past. The circumstances might be very different, but then too she had stumbled, and Sander had rescued her. Then, though, the cause of her fall had been the unfamiliar height of the borrowed shoes Tracy had insisted she should wear, and the effect of too many cocktails. The result was very much the same. Now, just as then, she could feel the steady thud of Sander’s heart against her body, whilst her own raced and bounced, the frantic speed of its beat making her feel breathless and far too weak to try to struggle against the arms holding her. Then too his proximity had filled her senses with the scent of his skin, the alien maleness of hard muscle beneath warm flesh, the power of that maleness, both physically and emotionally, and most of all her own need to simply be held by him. Then she had been thrilled to be in his arms, but now… Panic curled through her. That was not how she was supposed to feel, and it certainly wasn’t what she wanted to feel. Sander was her enemy—an enemy she was forced to share her sons with because he was their father, an enemy who had ripped from her the protection of her naivety with his cruel contempt for her.

  Determinedly Ruby started to push herself free, but instead of releasing her Sander tightened his hold of her.

  He’d seen that she was slender, Sander acknowledged, but it was only now that he was holding her and could actually feel the bones beneath her flesh that he was able to recognise how thin she was. She was shivering too, despite her claim not to need a coat. Once again he was reminded of the report he had commissioned on her. Was it possible that in order to ensure that her sons ate well and were not deprived of the nourishment they needed she herself had been going without? Sander had held his sons, and he knew just how solid and strong their bodies were. The amount of energy they possessed alone was testament to their good health. And it was their good health that mattered to him, not that of their mother, whose presence in his life as well as theirs was something he had told himself he would have to accept for their sakes.

  Even so… He looked down into Ruby’s face. Her skin was paler than he remembered, but he had put that down to the fact that when he had first met her her
face had been plastered in make-up, whilst now she wore none. Her cheekbones might be more pronounced, but her lips were still full and soft—the lips of sensual siren who knew just how to use her body to her own advantage. Sander had never been under any illusions as to why Ruby had approached him. He had heard her and her friend discussing the rich footballers they intended to target. Unable to find one, Ruby had obviously decided to target him instead.

  Sander frowned, unwilling to contrast the frail vulnerability of the woman he was holding with the girl he remembered, and even more unwilling to allow himself to feel concern for her. Why should he care about her? He didn’t. And yet as she struggled to pull free of him, her eyes huge in her fine boned face, a sudden gleam of March sunshine pierced the heavy grey of the late afternoon sky to reveal the perfection of her skin and stroke fingers of light through her blonde curls, Sander had sudden reluctance to let her go. In rejection of it he immediately released her.

  It was the unexpected swiftness of her release after Sander’s grip had seemed to be tightening on her that was causing her to feel so…confused, Ruby told herself, refusing to allow herself to use the betraying word bereft, which had tried to slip through her defences. Why should she feel bereft? She wanted to be free. Sander’s hold had no appeal for her. She certainly hadn’t spent the last six years longing to be back in his arms. Why should she, when her last memory of them had been the biting pressure of his fingers in her flesh as he thrust her away from him in a gesture of angry contempt?

  It had started to rain, causing Ruby to shiver and call the boys to them. It was no good her longing for the security of home, she told herself as they headed back to the hotel in the taxi Sander had flagged down, with the twins squashed in between them so that she didn’t have to come into contact with him. She must focus on the future and all that it would hold for her sons. Their happiness was far more important to her than her own, and it was obvious to her how easily they were adapting to Sander’s presence in their lives. An acceptance oiled by the promise of expensive toys, Ruby thought bitterly, knowing that her sons were too young for her to be able to explain to them that a parent’s love wasn’t always best shown though gifts and treats, and knowing too that it would be part of her future role to ensure that they were not spoiled by their father’s wealth or blinded to the reality of other people’s lives and struggles.

  Once they were back in their suite, in the privacy of her bathroom, Ruby tried to take two of the painkiller tablets she had bought from the chemist’s she had gone into on the pretext of needing some toothpaste. But her stomach heaved at the mere thought of attempting to swallow them, nausea overwhelming her.

  Still feeling sick, and weakened by her pounding headache, as soon as the twins had had something to eat she bathed them and put them to bed.

  They had only been asleep a few minutes when the jeweller Sander had summoned arrived, removing a roll of cloth from his briefcase, after Sander had introduced him to Ruby and they had all sat down.

  Placing the roll on the class coffee table, he unfolded it—and Ruby had to suppress a gasp of shock when she saw the glitter of the rings inside it.

  They were all beautiful, but something made Ruby recoil from them. It seemed somehow shabby and wrong to think of wearing something so precious. A ring should represent love and commitment that were equally precious and enduring instead of the hollow emptiness her marriage would be.

  ‘You choose,’ she told Sander emptily, not wanting to look at them.

  Her lack of interest in the priceless gems glittering in front of her made Sander frown. His mother had loved jewellery. He could see her now, seated at her dressing table, dressed to go out for the evening, admiring the antique Cartier bangles glittering on her arms.

  ‘Your birth paid for these,’ she had told him. ‘Your grandfather insisted that your father should only buy me one, so I had to remind him that I had given birth to his heir. Thank goodness you weren’t a girl. Your grandfather is so mean that he would have seen to it that I got nothing if you had been. Remember when you are a man, Sander, that the more expensive the piece of jewellery you give a woman, the more willing she will be, and thus the more you can demand of her.’ She had laughed then, pouting her glossy red lip-sticked lips at her own reflection and adding, ‘I shouldn’t really give away the secrets of my sex to you, should I?’

  His beautiful, shallow, greedy mother—chosen as a bride for his father by his grandfather because of her aristocratic Greek ancestry, marrying his father because she hated her own family’s poverty. When he had grown old enough to recognise the way in which his gentle academic father had been humiliated and treated with contempt by the father who had forced the marriage on him, and the wife who thought of him only as an open bank account, Sander had sworn he would never follow in his father’s footsteps and allow the same thing to happen to him.

  What was Ruby hoping for by pretending a lack of interest? Something more expensive? Angrily Sander looked at the rings, his hand hovering over the smallest solitaire he could see. His intention was to punish her by choosing it for her—until his attention was drawn to another ring close to it, its two perfect diamonds shimmering in the light.

  Feeling too ill to care what kind of engagement ring she had, Ruby exhaled in relief when she saw Sander select one of the rings. All she wanted was for the whole distasteful charade to be over.

  ‘We’ll have this one,’ Sander told the jeweller abruptly, his voice harsh with the irritation he felt against himself for his own sentimentality.

  It was the jeweller who handed the ring to Ruby, not Sander. She took it unwillingly, sliding the cold metal onto her finger, her eyes widening and her heart turning over inside her chest as she looked at it properly for the first time. Two perfect diamonds nestled together on a slender band, slightly offset from one another and yet touching—twin diamonds for their twin sons. Her throat closed up, her gaze seeking Sander’s despite her attempt to stop it doing so, her emotions clearly on display. But there was no answering warmth in Sander’s eyes, only a cold hardness that froze her out.

  ‘An excellent choice,’ the jeweller was saying. ‘Each stone weighs two carets, and they are a particularly good quality. And of course ethically mined, just as you requested,’ he informed Sander.

  His comment took Ruby by surprise. From what she knew of Sander she wouldn’t have thought it would matter to him how the diamonds had been mined, but obviously it did. Meaning what? That she had misjudged him? Meaning nothing, Ruby told herself fiercely. She didn’t want to revisit her opinion of Sander, never mind re-evaluate it. Why not? Because she was afraid that if she did so, if she allowed herself to see him in a different light, then she might become even more vulnerable to him than she already was? Emotionally vulnerable as well as sexually vulnerable? No, that must not happen.

  Her panic increased her existing nausea, and it was a relief when the jeweller finally left. His departure was quickly followed by Sander’s, to his business meeting.

  Finally she could give in to her need to go and lie down—after she had checked on the twins, of course.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘YOUR hair is lovely and thick, but since it is so curly I think it would look better if we put a few different lengths into it.’ Those had been the words of the salon’s senior stylist when he had first come over to examine Ruby’s hair. She had simply nodded her head, not really caring how he cut her hair. She was still feeling unwell, her head still aching, and she knew from experience that these headaches could last for two and even three days once they took hold, before finally lifting.

  Now, though, as the stylist stepped back from the mirror and asked, ‘What do you think?’ Ruby was forced to admit that she was almost lost for words over the difference his skill had made to her hair, transforming it from an untidy tumble of curls into a stunningly chic style that feathered against her face and swung softly onto her shoulders—the kind of style she had seen worn by several of the women taking tea at the hotel
the previous afternoon, a deceptively simple style that breathed expense and elegance.

  ‘I…I love it,’ she admitted wanly.

  ‘It’s easy to maintain and will fall back into shape after you’ve washed it. You’re lucky to have naturally blonde hair.’

  Thanking him, Ruby allowed herself to be led away. At least she had managed to eat some dry toast this morning, and keep down a couple of the painkillers which had eased her head a little, thankfully.

  Her next appointment was at the beauty spa, and when she caught other women giving her a second look as she made her way there she guessed that they must be querying the elegance of her new hairstyle set against the shabbiness of her clothes and her make-up-free face.

  She hated admitting it, but it was true that first impressions counted, and that people—especially women—judged members of their own sex by their appearance. The last thing she wanted was for the twins to be embarrassed by a mother other women looked down on. Even young children were very perceptive and quick to notice such things.

  The spa and beauty salon was ahead of her. Taking a deep breath, Ruby held her head high as she walked in.

  Two hours later, when she walked out again with the personal shopper who had come to collect her and help her choose a new wardrobe, Ruby couldn’t help giving quick, disbelieving glances into the mirrors she passed, still unable to totally believe that the young woman looking back at her really was her. Her nails were manicured and painted a fashionable dark shade, her eyebrows were trimmed, and her make-up was applied in such a subtle and delicate way that it barely looked as though she was wearing any at all. Yet at the same time her eyes looked larger and darker, her mouth fuller and softer, and her complexion so delicately perfect that Ruby couldn’t take her eyes off the glowing face looking back at her. Although she would never admit it to Sander, her makeover had been fun once she had got over her initial discomfort at being fussed over and pampered. Now she felt like a young woman rather than an anxious mother.