,’ he said stiffly. ‘I really need to change. We can talk properly when—’
Her body felt numb, and it took an effort to shake her head. ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’
What was there to say? That she had stupidly fallen in love with a man who saw marriage as a means of tying up loose ends? She wasn’t even going to try and deny the sexual chemistry between them, but everyone knew that passion burnt itself out. And if she hadn’t been the mother of the heir to the Leonidas empire their relationship would no doubt have ended when they’d finally satisfied their hunger for one another.
He frowned. ‘We’ll talk when I get back. If you don’t want to stay here, then go to the apartment. I’ll make arrangements.’
‘There’s no need.’ She was striving for calm. This wasn’t going to turn into some slanging match. At least then this trip would be a happy memory for George. ‘We won’t be moving into the apartment. I’m not going to marry you, Aristo.’
His eyes narrowed. She could feel his disbelief, his frustration.
‘Because I’m flying to Dubai? Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?’
Time seemed to wind back four years, and suddenly it was as though they were back in the bedroom of that tall tower in New York, when he’d told he was going on yet another business trip.
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. This isn’t about you flying to Dubai, it’s about us being honest—or did you forget that too?’
He didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened. ‘I have been honest. I didn’t plan this mess, and I can’t just delegate it to someone else.’
He looked so serious, and so very beautiful, and she loved him so much, but it wasn’t enough to make her turn a blind eye like her mother had done. She knew Aristo was telling the truth—only they were small, inconsequential truths. She needed security in her and George’s life, the emotional not the financial kind, and there was nothing to be gained by avoiding the bigger, uglier truths.
She took a deep breath. ‘Just tell me the truth. Would you honestly have asked me to marry you if I hadn’t had George?’
He glanced away, and in that small gesture she knew that it was over.
Her face didn’t change. ‘You should change, and then we need to tell George you’re leaving.’
Silently, she willed him to look at her, but after a moment he turned and began walking upstairs.
CHAPTER TEN
TAKING A DEEP BREATH, Teddie closed the door to her wardrobe and gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
It was the first time she had been able to look at herself since getting back from Greece. Up until now she’d been too hollowed out with misery and despair to face the red-eyed proof of her failure, but tonight she had no choice.
Tonight was the opening night of the Castine, and she was going to be up on stage in front of the fifty personally invited guests of Edward Claiborne. Getting to this moment had been brutal, and the pain had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. But tonight was her night—hers and Elliot’s—and she wasn’t going to let herself or him down.
Turning slowly, she glanced over her shoulder. The jumpsuit was black...fitted. The top was guipure lace, long-sleeved, buttoning up the front to a high collar. The trousers were plain except for the long fringe that was really only visible when she moved.
Spinning round on her towering heels, she stared at herself critically, pressing her hand flat against her stomach in an effort to calm the jumping jacks twitching inside her.
She looked serious but that was okay. Perhaps a little intimidating. But that was okay too. An audience should have a healthy respect for magic, not see it as some kind of sideshow at a kids’ party.
And it was a beautiful jumpsuit. Too expensive, of course, but she would be earning real money now, and for the past few days she had been uncharacteristically reckless in her spending. She’d given Elliot a new evening suit, as a thank-you for looking after the business, and she’d been lavishing George with presents too.
Her throat tightened. Not to say thank-you to him, but sorry. Sorry for giving his stupid, selfish father a second chance.
As soon as she’d seen Aristo in the lounge at the Kildare she should have walked straight past him and into a lawyer’s office. Instead she’d not only let him back into her bed, but into her heart, had even agreed to marry him.
Her mouth trembled. She could forgive herself for falling into his arms. Given the sexual pull between them, it had been inevitable. But she had no excuse for falling in love with him again.
Breathing out unsteadily, she closed the wardrobe door.
She’d always been so concerned about not turning into her mother, but maybe she was actually more like her father, for she had let herself be seduced by daydreams instead of seeing the reality. And, just like Wyatt, she’d stupidly believed she could beat the house.
Gazing at her reflection, she let her hand drop.
One small mercy was that, thanks to some last vestige of self-preservation or common sense, she hadn’t told George that she and Aristo were getting married. But she’d still had to explain to their overtired and confused son why they weren’t going to Daddy’s apartment.