Marriage: To Claim His Twins

by Penny Jordan

  ‘Maybe so. But can you provide them with love and the knowledge that they are truly loved and wanted? Of course you can’t—because you don’t love them. How can you? You don’t know them.’

  There—let him answer that! But even as she made her defiant stand Ruby’s heart was warning her that Sander had raised an issue that she could not ignore and would ultimately have to face. Honesty compelled her to admit it.

  ‘I do know that one day they will want to know who fathered them and what their family history is,’ she said.

  It was hard for her to make that admission—just as it had been hard for her to answer the questions the boys had already asked, saying that they did have a daddy but he lived in a different country. Those words had reminded her of what she was denying her sons because of the circumstances in which she had conceived them. One day, though, their questions would be those of teenagers, not little boys, and far more searching, far more knowing.

  Ruby looked away from Sander, instinctively wanting to hide her inner fears from him. The problem of telling the boys how she had come to have them lay across her heart and her conscience in an ever present heavy weight. At the moment they simply accepted that, like many of the other children they were at school with, they did not have a daddy living with them. But one day they would start to ask more questions, and she had hoped desperately that she would not have to tell them the truth until they were old enough to accept it without judging her. Now Sander had stirred up all the anxieties she had tried to put to one side. More than anything else she wanted to be a good mother, to give her boys the gift of a secure childhood filled with love; she wanted them to grow up knowing they were loved, confident and happy, without the burden of having to worry about adult relationships. For that reason she was determined never, ever to begin a relationship with anyone. A changing parade of ‘uncles’ and ‘stepfathers’ wasn’t what she wanted for her boys.

  But now Sander, with his demands and his questions, was forcing her to think about the future and her sons’ reactions to the reality of their conception. The fact that they did not have a father who loved them.

  Anger and panic swirled through her.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded. ‘The boys mean nothing to you. They are five years old, and you didn’t even know that they existed until now.’

  ‘That is true. But as for them meaning nothing to me—you are wrong. They are of my blood, and that alone means that I have a responsibility to ensure that they are brought up within their family.’

  He wasn’t going to tell her about that atavistic surge of emotion and connection he had felt the minute he had seen the twins’ photograph. Sander still didn’t really understand it himself. He only knew that it had brought him here, and that it would keep him here until she handed over to him his sons.

  ‘It can’t have been easy for you financially, bringing them up.’

  Sander was offering her sympathy? Ruby was immediately suspicious. She longed to tell him that what hadn’t been easy for her was discovering at seventeen that she was pregnant by a man who had slept with her and then left her, but somehow she managed to resist doing so.

  Sander gestured round the hall.

  ‘Even if your sister is able to keep up the mortgage payments on this house, have you thought about what would happen if either of your sisters wanted to marry and move out? At the moment you are financially dependent on their goodwill. As a caring mother, naturally you will want your sons to have the best possible education and a comfortable life. I can provide them with both, and provide you with the money to live your own life. It can’t be much fun for you, tied to two small children all the time.’

  She had been right to be suspicious, Ruby recognised, as the full meaning of Sander’s offer hit her. Did he really expect her to sell her sons to him? Didn’t he realise how obscene his offer was? Or did he simply not care?

  His determination made her cautious in her response, her instincts warning her to be careful about any innocent admission she might make as to the financial hardship they were all currently going through, in case Sander tried to use that information against her at a later date. So, instead of reacting with the anger she felt, she said instead, ‘The twins are only five. Now that they’re at school I’m planning to continue my education. As for me having fun—the boys provide me with all the fun I want or need.’

  ‘You’ll forgive me if I say that I find that hard to believe, given the circumstances under which we met,’ was Sander’s smooth and cruel response.

  ‘That was six years ago, and in circumstances that—’ Ruby broke off. Why should she explain herself to him? The people closest to her—her sisters—knew and understood what had driven her to the reckless behaviour that had resulted in the twins’ conception, and their love and support for her had never wavered. She owed Sander nothing after all—much less the revelation of her teenage vulnerabilities. ‘That was then,’ she corrected herself, adding firmly, ‘This is now.’

  The knowing look Sander was giving her made Ruby want to protest—You’re wrong. I’m not what you think. That wasn’t the real me that night. But common sense and pride made her hold back the words.

  ‘I’m prepared to be very generous to you financially in return for you handing the twins over to me,’ Sander continued. ‘Very generous indeed. You’re still young.’

  In fact he had been surprised to discover that the night they had met she had been only seventeen. Dressed and made-up as she had been, he had assumed that she was much older. Sander frowned. He hadn’t enjoyed the sharp spike of distaste he had experienced against himself at knowing he had taken such a young girl to bed. Had he known her age he would have…What? Given her a stern talking to and sent her home in a cab? Had he been in control of himself that night he would not have gone to bed with her at all, no matter what her age, but the unpalatable truth was that he had not been in control of himself. He had been in the grip of anger and a sense of frustration he had never experienced either before or since that night—a firestorm of savage, bitter emotion that had driven him into behaviour that, if he was honest, still irked his pride and sense of self. Other men might exhibit such behaviour, but he had always thought of himself as above that kind of thing. He had been wrong, and now the evidence of that behaviour was confronting him in the shape of the sons he had fathered. Sander believed he had a duty to ensure that they did not suffer because of that behaviour. That was what had brought him here. And there was no way he was going to leave until he had got what he had come for.

  And just that?

  Ruby shook her head.

  ‘Buy my children, you mean?’

  Sander could hear the hostility in Ruby’s voice as well as see it in her eyes.

  ‘Because that is what you’re talking about,’ Ruby accused him, adding fiercely, ‘And if I’d had any thought of allowing you into their lives, what you’ve just said would make me change my mind. There’s nothing you could offer me that would make me want to risk my sons’ emotional future by allowing you to have any kind of contact with them.’

  Her words were having more of an effect on him than Sander liked to admit. A man of pride and power, used to commanding not just the obedience but also the respect and the admiration of others, he was stung by Ruby’s criticism of him. He wasn’t used to being refused anything by anyone—much less by a woman he remembered as an over-made-up and under-dressed little tart who had come on to him openly and obviously. Not that there was anything of that girl about her now, dressed in faded jeans and a loose top, her face free of make-up and her hair left to curl naturally of its own accord. The girl he remembered had smelled of cheap scent; the woman in front of him smelled of cleaning product. He would have to change his approach if he was to overcome her objections, Sander recognised.

  Quickly changing tack, he challenged her. ‘Nothing I could offer you, maybe, but what about what I can offer my sons? You speak of their emotions. Have you thought, I wonder, how they are going to feel
when they grow up to realise what you have denied them in refusing to let them know their father?’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Ruby objected angrily, knowing that Sander had found her most vulnerable spot where the twins were concerned.

  ‘What is not fair, surely, is you denying my sons the opportunity to know their father and the culture that is their birthright?’

  ‘As your bastards?’ The horrible word tasted bitter, but it had to be said. ‘Forced to stand in second place to your legitimate children, and no doubt be resented by your wife?’

  ‘I have no other children, nor any wife.’

  Why was her heart hammering so heavily, thudding into her chest wall? It didn’t matter to her whether or not Sander was married, did it?

  ‘I warn you now, Ruby, that I intend to have my sons with me. Whatever it takes to achieve that and by whatever means.’

  Ruby’s mouth went dry. Stories she had read about children being kidnapped by a parent and stolen away out of the country flooded into her mind. Sander was a very rich and a very powerful man. She had discovered that in the early days after she had met him, when she had stupidly imagined that he would come back to her and had avidly read everything she could about him, wanting to learn everything she could—until the reality of the situation had forced her to accept that the fantasy she had created of Sander marrying her and looking after her was just that: a fantasy created by her need to find someone to replace the parents she had lost and keep her safe.

  It was true that Sander could give the boys far more than she could materially, and the unwelcome thought slid into her mind that there could come a day when, as Sander had cruelly predicted, the twins might actually resent her and blame her for preventing them from bene-fitting from their father’s wealth and, more importantly, from knowing him. Boys needed a strong male figure in their lives they could relate to. Everyone knew that. Secretly she had been worrying about the lack of any male influence in their lives. But if at times she had been tempted to pray for a solution to that problem she had certainly not envisaged that solution coming in the form of the boys’ natural father. A kindly, grandfather-type figure for them was as much as she had hoped for, because after their birth she had decided that she would never take the risk of getting involved with a man who might turn out to be only a temporary presence in her sons’ lives. She would rather remain celibate than risk that.

  The truth, in her opinion, was that children thrived best with two parents in a stable relationship—a mother and a father, both committed to their wellbeing.

  A mother and a father. More than most, she knew the damage that could be done when that stability wasn’t there.

  A sense of standing on the edge of a precipice filled her—an awareness that the decision she made now would affect her sons for the rest of their lives. Shakily she admitted to herself that she wished her sisters were there to help her, but they weren’t. They had their own lives, and ultimately the boys were her responsibility, their happiness resting in her hands. Sander was determined to have them. He had said so. He was a wealthy, powerful and charismatic man who would have no difficulty whatsoever in persuading others that the boys should be with him. But she was their mother. She couldn’t let him take them from her—for their sakes even more than her own. Sander didn’t love them; he merely wanted them. She doubted he was capable of understanding what love was. Yes, he would provide well for them materially, but children needed far more than that, and her sons needed her. She had raised them from birth; they needed her even more than she needed them.

  If she couldn’t stop Sander from claiming his sons, then she owed it to them to make sure that she remained with them. Sander wouldn’t want that, of course. He despised and disliked her.

  Her heart started to thud uncomfortably heavily and far too fast as it fought against the solution proposed by her brain, but now that the thought was there it couldn’t be ignored. Sander had said there was nothing he would not do to have his sons living with him. Well, maybe she should put his claim to the test, because she knew that there was no sacrifice she herself would not make for their sakes—no sacrifice at all. The challenge she intended to put to him was a huge risk for her to take, but for the boys’ sake she was prepared to take it. It was, after all, a challenge she was bound to win—because Sander would never accept the terms with which she was about to confront him. She was sure of that. She let out her pent up breath.

  ‘You say the boys’ place is with you?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘They are five years old and I am their mother.’ Ruby took a deep breath, hoping that her voice wouldn’t shake with the nervousness she was fighting to suppress and thus betray her. ‘If you really care about their wellbeing as much as you claim then you must know that they are too young to be separated from me.’

  She had a point, Sander was forced to admit, even though he didn’t like doing so.

  ‘You need to be very sure about why you want the twins, Sander.’ Ruby pressed home her point. ‘And that your desire to have them isn’t merely a rich man’s whim. Because the only way I will allow them to be with you is if I am there with them—as their mother and your wife.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  THERE—she had said it. Thrown down the gauntlet, so to speak, and given him her challenge.

  In the silence that followed Ruby could literally hear her own heart beating as she held her breath, waiting for Sander to refuse her demand—because she knew that he would refuse it, and having refused it he must surely be forced to step back and accept that the boys’ place was with her.

  Trying not to give in to the shakiness invading her body, Ruby could hardly believe that she had actually had the courage to say what she had. She could tell from Sander’s expression that her demand had shocked him, although he was quick to mask his reaction.

  Marriage, Sander thought quickly, mentally assessing his options. He wanted his sons. There was no doubt in his mind about that, nor any doubt that they were his. Marriage to their mother would give him certain rights over them, but it would also give Ruby certain rights over his wealth. That, of course, was exactly what she wanted. Marriage to him followed by an equally speedy divorce and a very generous financial divorce settlement. He could read her mind so easily. Even so, she had caught him off-guard—although he told himself cynically that he should perhaps have been prepared for her demand. He was, after all, a very wealthy man.

  ‘I applaud your sharp-witted business acumen,’ he told Ruby drily, in a neutral voice that gave away nothing of the fury he was really feeling. ‘You rejected my initial offer of a generous payment under the guise of being a devoted mother, when in reality you were already planning to play for higher stakes.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Ruby denied hotly, astonished by his interpretation of her demand. ‘Your money means nothing to me, Sander—nothing at all,’ she told him truthfully, adding for good measure, ‘And neither do you. For me, the fact that you choose to think of my offer in terms of money simply underlines all the reasons why I am not prepared to allow my sons anywhere near you unless I am there.’

  ‘That is how you feel, but what about how they might feel?’ Sander pressed her. ‘A good mother would never behave so selfishly. She would put her children’s interests first.’

  How speedily Sander had turned the tables on her, Ruby recognised. What had begun as a challenge to him she had been confident would make him back down had now turned into a double-edged sword which right now he was wielding very skilfully against her, cutting what she had thought was secure ground away from under her feet.

  ‘They need their mother—’ she started.

  ‘They are my sons,’ Sander interrupted her angrily. ‘And I mean to have them. If I have to marry you to facilitate that, then so be it. But make no mistake, Ruby. I intend to have my sons.’

  His response stunned her. She had been expecting him to refuse, to back down, to go away and leave them alone—anything rather than marry her. Sander had c
alled her bluff and left her defenceless.

  Now Ruby could see a reality she hadn’t seen before. Sander really did want the boys and he meant to have them. He was rich and powerful, well able to provide materially for his sons. What chance would she have of keeping them if he pursued her through the courts? At best all she could hope for was shared custody, with the boys passed to and fro between them, torn between two homes, and that was the last thing she wanted for them. Why had Sander had to discover that he had fathered them? Hadn’t life been cruel enough to her as it was?

  Marriage to him, which she had not in any kind of way wanted, had now devastatingly turned into the protection she was forced to recognise she might need if she was to continue to have the permanent place in her sons’ lives that she had previously taken for granted.

  Marriage to Sander wouldn’t just provide her sons with a father, she recognised now through growing panic, it would also protect her rights as a mother. As long as they were married the twins would have both parents there for them.

  Both parents. Ruby swallowed painfully. Wasn’t it true that she had spent many sleepless nights worrying about the future and the effect not having a father figure might have on her sons?

  A father figure, but not their real father. She had never imagined them having Sander in their lives—not after those first agonising weeks of being forced to accept that she meant nothing to him.

  She wasn’t going to give up, though. She would fight with every bit of her strength for her sons.

  Holding her head up she told him fiercely, ‘Very well, then. The choice is yours, Sander. If you genuinely want the boys because they are your sons, and because you want to get to know them and be part of their lives, then you will accept that separating them from me will inflict huge emotional damage on them. You will understand, as I do, no matter how much that understanding galls you, that children need the security of having two parents they know are there for them—will always be there for them. You will be prepared to make the same sacrifice that I am prepared to make to provide them with the security that comes from having two parents committed to them and to each other through marriage.’