The Prince's Christmas Vow

“Trust me. It’s all you need to know.”

Her unwillingness to be forthcoming only irritated him more.

“Fine. Keep it a secret. You seem to be good at holding things back. It really doesn’t matter anymore. But you will explain why you didn’t sign and return the annulment papers. So if you don’t want money and you obviously aren’t interested in a reconciliation, why else continue our marriage?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

HE WAS RIGHT about one thing.

Zoe had been holding back but not for the reasons Demetrius was suggesting.

She never imagined how it might look to him. At the time, she’d been so caught up in her fear for her mother’s safety to think clearly. A call from the polizia had burst the illusion of happily-ever-after. That long-ago call had made her face reality—accept the graveness of her mother’s illness.

Until the polizia had found her mother wandering the streets in her nightgown, lost and confused, Zoe had been living in a state of denial—unable to accept the harsh sentence this disease was exacting on her mother. It had been all too easy to get caught up in the rush of love—of the promise of a fairy-tale ending—rather than to acknowledge that she was on the verge of losing the one person who meant the world to her. But Zoe didn’t have that excuse now—not when Demetrius thought the absolute worst of her.

Her gaze moved to the steps. An escape was so close and yet so far away. The sandy beach looked so inviting. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she got to the bottom of this mess.

She rolled back the memories. Though it had all taken place less than a year ago, in so many ways it seemed like a lifetime ago. She clearly remembered the day the annulment papers had arrived. They’d been messengered to her apartment. They’d nearly destroyed her to read, but somehow she found the strength to pen her name on them. As for the check, she just couldn’t accept the money, especially after the way things had ended. She clearly recalled ripping it into itty-bitty pieces.

At the time, things had been so hectic. Her mother’s situation had been in flux. There were doctors’ appointments. And with her mother’s rapidly declining condition, lots of tests. But Zoe was certain she’d taken care of the annulment papers.

Her head started to pound. “I know I signed the papers. I...I don’t know what happened to them after that. A clerk must have misplaced them because I don’t have them.”

“And that’s it? That’s your only explanation?”

“Sì! Do you really find that so hard to believe?”

He paused as though really giving some thought to the possibility there could have been a clerical snafu. “I’ll check into it.”

“Your words say one thing but your eyes say another.” She frowned at him. “Why do you find it so hard to believe that I’m not behind the missing papers?”

“Because it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to me.”

She pressed her hands to her hips and lifted her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you lied when you married me. You said you loved me, yet when our marriage hit a few snags, you cut and ran—”

“That’s not true. I had to. I...” Realizing that he was in absolutely no frame of mind to comprehend what she was about to say, she pressed her lips together and turned away.

“You didn’t have to run away. I told you numerous times that we’d work it out with the king and his counsel. We’d have found a way to sway the public’s support.”

“I know you tried. And...and I wanted to believe you. I desperately wanted to believe that everything would fall into place. But it didn’t. Don’t you understand, my leaving was for the best?”

“The best for whom? Me? Not hardly. You knew that I loved you. So it must have been best for you. Did leaving make you happy?”

She didn’t say anything. She really did owe him an explanation but not now—not with him tossing around blame. He was justifiably angry. She knew all too well about anger. She’d spent the past year angry at the entire world. In the end, the anger had been easier for her to deal with than the acceptance of what was happening to her mother and the fact that Demetrius would be better off without her.

“Well?” he persisted.

“No. It didn’t make me happy. But I did what I had to do. I didn’t have a choice.”