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‘Zaccheo?’
He steeled himself to turn around, hoping against hope that the look on her face would be different. That she would smile and everything would return to how it was before they’d gone on that blasted trip.
But it wasn’t. And her next words ripped through him with the lethal effect of a vicious blade.
‘Zaccheo, we need to talk.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EVERY WORD SHE’D practised in the shower fled her head as Eva faced him. Of course, her muffled sobs had taken up a greater part of the shower so maybe she hadn’t got as much practice in as she’d thought.
‘I...’ Her heart sank into her stomach when a forbidding look tightened his face. ‘I can’t stay married to you.’
For a moment he looked as if she’d punched him hard in the solar plexus, then ripped his heart out while he struggled to breathe. Gradually his face lost every trace of pain and distress. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he strolled to where she stood, frozen inside the doorway.
‘Was this your plan all along?’ he bit out, his eyes arctic. ‘To wait until I’d spoken on your father’s behalf and he was safe from prosecution before you asked for a divorce?’
She gasped. ‘You did that? When?’ she asked, but his eyes poured scorn on her question.
‘Is being married to me that abhorrent to you, Eva? So much so you couldn’t even wait until we were back in London?’
‘No! Believe me, Zaccheo, that’s not it.’
‘Believe you? Why should I? When you’re not even prepared to give us a chance?’ He veered sharply away from her and strode across the room, his fingers spiking through his hair before he reversed course and stopped in front of her once more. ‘What I don’t understand is why. Did I do something? Say something to make you think I wouldn’t want this relationship to work?’
The confirmation that this marriage meant more to him was almost too hard to bear.
‘Zaccheo, please listen to me. It’s not you, it’s—’
His harsh laughter echoed around the room. ‘Are you seriously giving me that line?’
Her fists balled. ‘For once in your life, just shut up and listen! I can’t have children,’ she blurted.
‘You’ve already used that one, dolcezza, but you signed along the dotted line agreeing to my clause, remember? So try again.’
Misery quivered through her stomach. ‘It’s true I signed the agreement, but I lied to you. I can’t have children, Zaccheo. I’m infertile.’
He sucked in a hoarse breath and reeled backwards on his heels. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I tried to tell you when I first saw the clause, but you wouldn’t listen. You’d made up your mind that I’d use any excuse not to marry you because I didn’t want you.’
The stunned look morphed into censure. ‘Then you should’ve put me straight.’
‘How? Would you have believed me if I’d told you about my condition? Without evidence to back it up? Or perhaps I should’ve told Romeo or your PA since they had more access to you than I did in the week before the wedding?’
He looked at her coldly. ‘If your conscience stung you so deeply the first time round, why did you change your mind?’
Her emotions were raw enough for her to instinctively want to protect herself. But what did she have to lose? Zaccheo would condemn her actions regardless of whether she kept her innermost feelings to herself or not. And really, how much worse could this situation get? Her heart was already in shreds.
She met his gaze head on. ‘You know I lost my mother to cancer when I was eighteen. She was diagnosed when I was sixteen. For two years we waited, hoping for the best, fearing the worst through each round of chemo. With each treatment that didn’t work we knew her time was growing shorter. Knowing it was coming didn’t make it any easier. Her death ripped me apart.’ She stopped and gathered her courage. ‘My father has been suffering stress attacks in the last couple of months.’ She risked a glance and saw his brows clamped in a forbidding frown. ‘He collapsed on Friday after you called to tell him the wedding was off.’
Zaccheo’s mouth compressed, but a trace of compassion flashed through his eyes. ‘And you blame me? Is that what this is all about?’
‘No, I don’t. We both know that the blame for our current circumstances lies firmly with my father.’ She stopped and licked her lips. ‘He may have brought this on himself, but the stress was killing him, Zaccheo. I’ve watched one parent die, helpless to do anything but watch them fade away. Condemn me all you want, but I wasn’t going to stand by and let my father worry himself to death over what he’d done. And I didn’t do it for my family name or my blasted pedigree. I did it because that’s what you do for the people you love.’
