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“He’s going to kill you, Mama. And us.”
Breaking out in a sweat, Theo turned unsteadily toward the balcony. Strong, he had to be strong. Gripping his hands into fists, he ordered himself to calm the hell down. Cold. He had to be cold.
But it wasn’t working.
“I need some fresh air,” he gasped and fled.
Outside on the balcony, the night was warm and clear. Clouds covered the stars and all but a sliver of moon. He could see the inky blackness of the Seine below, the shimmer of lights across the river, and beyond it, the soaring Gothic buttresses of Notre Dame on the Île de la Cité.
Emmie silently followed. Beyond the balcony railing, he could see the dark shape of birds against the lowering clouds, hear their melancholy cries as they flew. He took a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to love me,” he said in a low voice. “I want an alliance of equals. Where we each can live the life we desire, and no one has to sacrifice. No one gets hurt.”
“Sorry.”
Her shoulders slumped, her lovely face was downcast. And Theo hated himself for disappointing her. Why was she forcing him to hurt her?
He choked out, “You promised you’d never love me.”
Emmie looked down at the black river. A beam of moonlight twisted through the clouds, tracing the smooth curve of her cheek. Lifting her head, she said quietly, “And you promised we’d live in New York. To have a home. With friends. Family.”
And Theo suddenly knew the life he’d hoped to have with her was impossible. She would never agree to hire a full-time nanny so that she could spend her days working beside him at the office, helping him conquer the world. Emmie would never be parted from her child for the sake of money or power or fame.
Love was what mattered to her. Love he could not give her.
Pain was like a razor blade in his throat as he turned back to the Seine. Moonlight rested the sharp edges of the water’s dark waves.
He felt Emmie’s gentle hands on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Theo. I know you can’t love me. I’ve known it all along. It’s my fault. All my fault.” She gave him a crooked half smile. “Well, a little bit yours, for being so irresistible.”
Even now, she was making jokes, trying to lighten the mood and offer comfort, though he’d hurt her so badly. He tried to smile back. “If I could love anyone—”
“I know.” Balling her fists into the pockets of her robe, Emmie took a deep breath. “I’ll get over it. Add it to the list of things we’ll never discuss again.” She turned away. “Forget I said anything.”
But as his wife disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving Theo alone on the balcony in the haunted moonlight of Paris, he knew there was no way he’d ever be able to forget.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HOWCOULDEMMIEhave made such a mistake?
How could she have put their baby at risk?
“All right, Mrs. Katrakis.” Dr. Hwang’s cool eyes focused on hers, as Emmie lay on a towel over the leather sofa on their private jet now on descent into a New York airport. Standing up, the doctor washed her hands in the small galley sink. “You’re only three centimeters dilated. We’ll get you to the hospital on time.”
“Do you—promise?” Emmie panted, as another contraction contorted her body.
“I don’t make promises, but it’s very likely.” The gray-haired doctor glanced at the flight attendant. “You had the pilot relay the emergency?”
“An ambulance will be waiting when we land,” the young woman replied, looking relieved that Emmie wasn’t going to give birth on the plane.
Emmie couldn’t blame her. She could hardly believe they’d cut it so close.
Her due date was still a week away, and everyone said first babies always arrived late. Emmie had thought she’d have plenty of time to set up the penthouse nursery before she went into labor, upon which she’d serenely grab a prepared overnight bag and Theo would escort her to the Manhattan hospital they’d chosen. She’d get an epidural for the pain, the labor would be hard but endurable, then afterward she’d introduce her baby to family and friends in a comfortable, spacious hospital room filled with flowers.
But Pierre Harcourt had strung them along until that very morning, when after three weeks of asking several developers for modifications and revisions of their bids, he’d finally signed a binding contract with Katrakis Enterprises. Theo had been right. They’d won. But she’d been right, too. It had all taken longer than they’d hoped.
To be fair, Theo had told her more than once that she should return to New York without him. But she hadn’t. Even that morning, as they’d been packing for the plane, he’d asked her if it wouldn’t be better for them to just stay in Paris until the baby was born. She’d shot down that idea, too.
She’d wanted to prove their marriage could still work. That she could love him and he could totally not love her but they could still succeed together as a couple. As a family.
