Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.’
‘I’M SORRY, NIKOLAI.’ Emma jumped up away from him, breaking the tenuous connection he’d just forged. Her hard words hit him like a speeding truck. ‘It’s too late.’
He watched as she stood up and looked down at him and, when he couldn’t respond, couldn’t say what he wanted her to hear, she turned and began to walk away. It seemed as if he was watching each step she took happen in slow motion, but each one took her further from him.
He couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t walk away from him until he’d told her what he’d only just realised himself. Nerves sparked through him, briefly making it impossible to say or do anything except watch her begin to walk away.
‘Emma, wait.’ The demand in his voice rang clearly through the morning air but she didn’t slow, didn’t turn. She was leaving him, walking out of his life. He had to make her see reason, had to make her understand, and there was only one way to do that.
He walked briskly after her, catching up with her as she began to cross Bow Bridge. ‘I need you, Emma.’
Had he said that aloud? He stood still at the end of the bridge and watched as her steps faltered, then she stood, her back to him in the middle of the bridge. Seconds ticked by but it felt like hours as he waited for her to turn to look at him. When she did, he could see she was upset, see she was on the verge of tears, and he hated himself for it. He’d handled this all wrong, right from the moment he’d woken after that first night they’d spent together. The night that had changed not only their lives but him.
‘Don’t say what you don’t mean, Nikolai.’
‘I mean it, Emma, I need you.’ Inside his head a voice was warning him that that wasn’t enough, that he had to say more, he had to put himself on the line and tell her he loved her. He couldn’t do that, not knowing she loved another man, but it was his baby she was carrying and he’d been the only man who’d made love to her. Surely that meant something?
‘It’s not enough,’ she said firmly, her chin lifting in defiance. ‘I want more than that, Nikolai. I want to be needed for who I am, not for the baby I carry. But more than that I need love.’
His stomach plummeted as she said those final words. Was