by Jennie Lucas
“No,” he bit out, gripping his hands into fists.
Tears spilled unheeded down her cheeks. “Don’t do this, Théo. I know you must despise me, but Henry is an innocent child—”
“I’m not going to let you go.” Reaching across the table, he cupped her face and looked down into her eyes fiercely. “You will be my wife.”
“But, Théo,” she choked out, shaking her head, “it’s impossible. I can’t love you desperately while you feel nothing—”
“You’re wrong,” he bit out, and then, with a deep breath, he forced out the lie he had no choice but to tell. “I love you, too.”
Incredulous, slow-rising joy lit up her beautiful face, like golden dawn across fields of red poppies. “You—love me?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
Trembling, she closed her eyes. Then, bursting into tears, she stood up and reached across the table, throwing her arms around him with a heartfelt sob that made all the other patrons of the small restaurant turn their way.
He’d made her deliriously happy with his lie. He could hear it in her tears. He could feel it in the way her soft, curvaceous body swayed against his as she clutched him tightly, as if she never wanted to let him go.
“We’re engaged,” he announced grimly to the other diners, and there was a breathless awwwww, a scattering of applause.
Paris was the legendary City of Light. A city for lovers. And he’d ruthlessly used her dreams against her.
After her year of heartbreak and grief she truly believed all her romantic hopes had come true. And even though part of him recoiled at the lie he’d just told, he couldn’t quite regret it. Because he’d won. Now he could keep her forever.
Even if it meant he’d lost his soul.
“Come on,” Théo said roughly, grabbing her hand. “Let’s get you a wedding dress.”
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE next morning, Théo was starting to fear that he was going to lose far more than his soul.
After he’d gotten the enormous diamond on her finger, he’d driven her straight to the most expensive bridal shop on the Avenue Montaigne and bought the first wedding dress that Carrie adored. Then he’d driven her immediately to the airport.
They’d made love four times since then—once on the jet, three times more since they’d arrived back at the château—and he was amazed at the change in her. He’d never experienced such openhearted passion, such fearless devotion. She’d given herself to him now, heart and soul, held nothing back. She touched him constantly and was always reaching over for a kiss. She told him that she loved him again and again, and each time he repeated the words back to her Carrie’s face would light up with brilliant new joy.
She didn’t seem to notice that the more he said I love you, the more flat and dull his voice became.
Now, she was upstairs packing Henry’s baby clothes for their trip to Seattle. They would get married in her home-town tomorrow, with her family in attendance. When he’d agreed to her plan, she’d thrown her arms around him and wept.
“You are so good to me,” she’d whispered. “Thank you for understanding. You are the most wonderful, kind man in the world.”
Wonderful? Kind? Because he was allowing her to have her family at her wedding instead of bullying her into an instant drive-through wedding in Las Vegas?
Théo was starting to feel a constant pain that started at the base of his skull and then radiated down his spine to the vicinity of his heart. Or at least the place where his heart should be.
He had lied to her. He’d lured her into marriage under false pretenses. Théo tried to tell himself that it was for a good cause—to raise his son in a solid home—but he knew his motivation hadn’t been entirely noble.
He couldn’t bear the thought of any man touching Carrie. He couldn’t endure the idea of her ever looking up so breathlessly, with such tender love in her eyes, into the face of another. Her love belonged to Théo—only to him.
Even though he was a selfish liar who did not love her.
Pacing the length of his dark, masculine study as Carrie packed bags upstairs for a flight that would leave in an hour, Théo tried desperately to shrug off his conscience.
He’d won everything he ever wanted. But at what price? Was this another Açoazul S.A.? A Brazilian steel company bought dear, not remotely worth the price he’d paid?
And what would it do to Carrie, to be broken up for her most valuable assets? Her assets. He froze in place, clawing his hair back with one hand. Carrie wasn’t a business. She was the kindest, sweetest woman he’d ever known. And her most valuable assets weren’t just her skills as a mother, or her passion as a wife. It wasn’t even the warmth and comfort she brought to his cold château.
It was the light in her eyes. Her cheerful optimism. Her belief in the best in people. Her ideals and dreams were the core of her. If Théo married her, ruthlessly letting that light in her eyes go dim as she realized his deception, he would kill the best part of her. Her heart.
He wasn’t taking her to a wedding, or even a funeral, he realized. He was plotting her murder.
Melodramatic nonsense, he told himself angrily. But it felt true. Had Théo ever once known what it felt like before to be truly loved? Had his home ever felt so warm before her arrival? Had he ever known such depths of passionate ecstasy with any woman?
He didn’t want to let her go. Ever.
But if he tricked her into marrying him, everything he admired most about Carrie—her cheerful selflessness, her hopefulness, her dreamy, idealistic heart—would be destroyed.
Grinding his teeth, he stared at all the leatherbound books on the other side of his study. He’d told himself that he had no choice but to be ruthless—for his son’s sake. But the truth was that Henry would always be happy with Carrie as his mother. He’d have a wonderful childhood in Seattle, playing baseball with kids in the neighborhood, part of a community, loved by all his cousins and grandparents.
What could Théo offer him except for a large bank account and a drafty gilded château?
“The only rich family is one that is filled with love.”
He thought about his own lonely upbringing. He’d never felt like he had a home. But even so, even at eight years old, he’d been glad when his parents had separated. Living in the same house with parents who coldly despised each other had been painful. Especially since, even as a child, Théo had known he was the shackle that imprisoned his parents together.
He thought of the beauty and hope in Carrie’s eyes when she’d spoken of the man she would someday love.
Théo ground his teeth, feeling like he wanted to punch the wall.
It doesn’t matter what she wants, he told himself angrily. I won’t give them up. My son is my blood. Carrie will be my wife. I will never let her be loved by another.
But could he selfishly possess her when he knew it would destroy the light in her that he loved the most?
Clutching his hands into fists, he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he stared through the window at the blue sky, at the beauty of the gardens and olive groves stretching toward the craggy mountains.
Then he reached for his phone.
An hour later Carrie knocked on the door to his study, then peeked around the door.
“Is this what happens when you own the plane?” she teased him. “You can keep everyone waiting while you check your email? Even Lilley is already waiting in the car—”
Her voice was cut off when she saw another man in the study. Rising from the desk, from the papers where he’d just affixed his final signature, Théo nodded his lawyer’s dismissal.
“I don’t like this,” the man said grimly in French.
“I don’t expect you to,” Théo replied in the same language, coldly. The man stalked out of the study, brushing by Carrie. And Théo looked at her, knowing it was the last moment she would love him.
She’d never looked so beautiful. No woman on earth could compare. Her clothes we
re just jeans and a simple polka-dotted blouse. She wore no makeup but the glow of happiness, and her hair was swept back in a glossy ponytail. Her only jewelry was the engagement ring sparkling on her finger. But the marble-size diamond wasn’t half as brilliant as the love and light shining from her hazel eyes.
Théo felt a sharp lump in his throat.
“What was that all about?” Carrie asked, glancing behind her to where the lawyer had disappeared.
He cleared his throat, but it still took several seconds before he could speak over the razor blade in his throat. “That’s Jacques Menton. My head attorney.”
“Finishing up some business before we leave? That’s good.” She gave him an arch, impish grin. “Because once we’re married you’re all mine. The honeymoon will last a year. Maybe two.”
This hurt more than he’d thought. He swallowed. “I have to tell you something.”
She smiled back at him, happiness and trust shining through her. “What’s that, my love?”
His knees felt weak. He sat down heavily in his desk chair. He had to get this over with. Get her out of here as quickly as possible, before his will failed.
He looked up at her. “I’ve known almost the whole time that Henry is my son.”
Her smile widened, her eyes glowing with pure adoration. “You realized I wouldn’t lie to you?”
“I got the results of the paternity test almost immediately.” He reached for her hand, then suddenly knew that if he touched her he’d never be able to get through this. He placed his hands flat on the desk. “Before I’d even bought that ring for you, I already knew.”
Carrie looked down at the sparkling jewel, then back at him, bewildered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said grimly. “So I’d have time to seduce you into bed and make you agree to my proposal.”
The light in her eyes faded. Then a new thought occurred to her, and she looked up with a beaming smile. “And I had time to teach you how to love—so we’re even.”
The light and joy in her eyes made his heart stop in his chest.
This was the moment. He had to do it.
“But I don’t, Carrie,” he said in a low voice.
She tilted her head guilelessly, still happy, only slightly confused. “Don’t what?”
Pushing his arms against his desk, he rose to his feet. He looked straight into her eyes, like he was looking at an enemy over the barrel of a rifle. “I don’t love you.”
Her face went pale. “What?”
“You heard me.” He pushed the papers he’d just signed across the desk toward her. “I’ve just signed a custody agreement. We’ll share custody of Henry, but you’ll have physical custody. I have created an extremely generous financial arrangement for you both. Neither you nor in fact anyone in your family needs ever work again, if you do not wish.”
Carrie looked as if he’d just kicked her in the face. Her creamy rose-pink skin suddenly had the cold green pallor of a corpse.
“You do love me,” she choked out. “I know you do. You said—”
“It was a lie.” He looked away. “You’ll be better off without me, Carrie,” he said. “You and Henry will both be better off with your family. You will find a man who can truly love you. A man who will—”
Deserve you, he’d been going to say, but his voice cut off.
She lifted her chin. “You love me. I’ve felt it.”
He was going to have to be brutal. “You were right all along,” he said roughly. “I only wanted you when I couldn’t have you. But now you’ve become so unbearably clingy…” She gasped.
“I’m sorry, ma petite,” he said coldly, “but I don’t want a wife or a child anymore. I will always love my son, and I tried my best to love you. But I’m not capable of it.” Clenching his jaw, he looked straight into her face. “You need to find a man who is.”
She didn’t answer. She was visibly trembling. Her eyes looked huge in her white face.
“You…don’t want us?” she whispered.
It ripped his guts out. But he took the pain and forced himself to keep going, to do what was best for Carrie and his son.
“No,” he ground out. “I don’t want you.”
Hearing him speak those words was like feeling a dagger slicing past her rib cage, straight to her heart.
For the past day and a half she’d been so happy. When he’d told her in Paris that he loved her she’d been shocked, overwhelmed by joy. Every time she’d made him repeat the words that he loved her—every time he’d touched her and shown her his love with more than words—she’d been filled with a happiness so complete she’d thought she might die of it.
And now the end. He didn’t love her. He was already tired of her.
“Love always ends,” he’d said. “And it usually ends badly.”
Tearfully, she shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
“I will always take care of you both,” he said in a low voice. He looked at her and his black eyes glittered, soulless and deep. “Because your happiness is more important to me than anything. More important than my own.”
“And yet you’re throwing us away?” she choked out. “Just like last year. Because I love you too much? Because I was clingy?”
“Yes,” he said coldly, turning away. Pushing the file of papers toward her on the deck, he glared at her. “Take it.”
Staring at the file as if it were poison that would kill her with a single touch, she shook her head wordlessly. If she didn’t touch the custody papers, if she didn’t have physical proof of his words, maybe she could pretend for a few more moments that this wasn’t happening—that it was all some kind of nightmare and she’d wake up in his strong, protective arms.
Coming around the desk, Théo forcibly thrust the folder into her hand. She felt it there, and her heart cracked in her chest. Some part of her had always known this would happen, even as she’d tried to believe her dreams might come true.
But she should have known. She should have known a man like Théo St. Raphaël would never love any woman for long…
“Now go back to America and your family,” he said brutally. “I’m done with you.”
Carrie didn’t even remember leaving the study. But suddenly she found herself outside, and the chauffeur was opening the back door. Numbly, she got in the car beside Henry’s baby seat.
“Where’s Théo?” Lilley asked from the front passenger seat. Then she got a good look at Carrie. “What’s wrong?”
Feeling like she was going to be sick, Carrie slowly turned to face her. “The wedding is off,” she said faintly. “I’m going home alone. So you don’t have to come.”
“What?” Lilley’s loud voice made the baby start to cry.
“Théo doesn’t love me,” Carrie whispered. “He wants his freedom.”
Lilley stared at her, then shook her head. “No. No way! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“It was a lie.” Carrie looked dully out the window. The château looked empty and cold. Even Provence itself seemed to have lost its vibrancy and color. “The wedding is off,” she said again.
“Did he say why?”
“He said I was clingy.”
Fury etched every line of Lilley’s plump, sweet face. “If that’s how he’s going to treat you, then—then…I quit!”
Carrie looked at her in shock. “But Théo’s your cousin!”
“Distant cousin. And not nearly distant enough at this moment,” Lilley grumbled. Getting out of the car, she moved to sit in the back near Carrie. As she reached across the baby seat to pat her gently on the shoulder, Lilley leaned forward to the driver. “Well, what are you waiting for? The airport!”
Tears of relief filled Carrie’s eyes. She wouldn’t have to face the long flight alone. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But what will you do in Seattle?”
As the car hummed along the road leading from Gavaudan Castle, Lilley Smith settled back in the leather seat and her eyes brightened. “I
’ll go see my boyfriend in San Francisco.”
“You have a boyfriend?” Carrie said in surprise.
Lilley’s face fell. “Sort of,” she mumbled.
“I hope you’ll be happy,” Carrie said.
Lilley snorted. “Huh. Don’t worry about me. And Théo will soon regret what he’s done. Believe me, he…”
But Carrie couldn’t listen as she prattled on. Leaning her head against the cool glass of the window, she stared out at the streaks of red flowers and green vineyards streaking by in a blur. She felt limp, like her very blood was burning inside her body, pulsing from the radioactive glowing core of anguish that had once been her heart.
Closing her eyes, she had a sudden sharp memory of his haunted face. “You’ll be better off without me, Carrie… You will find a man who can truly love you.”
The car pulled to a stop. She opened her eyes to see the tarmac of the nearby private airport. Lilley got out first, snapping out the car seat to carry Henry in the cushioned baby carrier. Carrie climbed out behind her, nearly stumbling as she made her way across the smooth, dry tarmac toward the steps leading to Théo’s jet.
With a shuddering breath, she looked behind her at the beautiful land of vivid beauty and deep love she knew she’d never see again.
A week ago she would have been thrilled to leave here. She now had everything she’d once wanted. Théo would be a part-time father to their son, but Carrie would not be forced to a life of heartbreak as his wife. She didn’t need to look for a waitressing job. She could spend her time raising her son, just as she most wanted. Théo had fulfilled her childhood dream.
The thought made her stop in her tracks. He’d had her in his grasp. She’d been ready to marry him. Why had he shown mercy? Why had he let her go?
One moment he’d been determined to marry her. He’d moved heaven and earth to seduce her. His desire for her had only grown as the week had passed. Then, at the moment of victory, he’d suddenly let her go.
Carrie closed her eyes, recalling his face in the shadowy light of his study. She’d been so overwhelmed by her own grief and pain that she hadn’t noticed the tight expression of his eyes, the hard set of his jaw, the odd pallor of his skin.
