His Unexpected Legacy. Chantelle ShawЧитать онлайн книгу.
musk of his cologne. He towered above her, a darkly beautiful fallen angel in black tailored trousers and matching silk shirt. Her eyes darted to his face, and she caught her breath as she felt a kick of sexual awareness in the pit of her stomach. The faint shadow of black stubble on his jaw accentuated his raw masculinity and the curve of his wide mouth promised heaven. But it was his eyes that trapped her gaze, as dark and sensuous as molten chocolate, framed by lush black lashes.
Once, a long time ago, his eyes had held warmth, desire. But now his expression was cold and she sensed his anger was tightly controlled.
‘Besides, it’s pointless to look for the exit,’ he said in a dangerously soft voice. ‘You won’t be going anywhere until you’ve explained what in God’s name is going on.’
‘I’m sorry I interrupted your party,’ she said frantically. ‘It was a stupid thing to do.’ She hesitated, feeling guilty for the trouble she must have caused. ‘I...I hope Miss Denholm isn’t too upset.’
He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘She is not important.’
Kristen was shocked by his careless dismissal of his fiancée. ‘How can you regard announcing your intention to marry as unimportant?’ She gave him a disgusted look. ‘Although it’s not the first time you’ve got engaged so I suppose it might seem boring.’
Sergio’s eyes narrowed at her sarcastic tone. ‘What do you mean?’
Four years of hurt and anger exploded from Kristen. ‘You didn’t waste much time replacing me in your bed, did you?’ she said bitterly. ‘I heard that you’d got engaged to a Sicilian woman soon after we broke up. That’s why I didn’t...’
‘Didn’t what?’ he prompted when she broke off abruptly.
‘It...it doesn’t matter.’
She tore her eyes from his face. The reason she had not contacted him to tell him she was pregnant after she had left Sicily was not only because she had learned of his intention to marry another woman. She had been certain he would not be interested in the child she had conceived by him, and now she questioned why she had considered asking him for financial support for his son.
But surely it was fair that Sergio should take some responsibility for Nico? The voice of reason inside her head refused to be ignored. She had made the decision to ask him for financial help for Nico, and now that they were alone she had the perfect opportunity. Taking a deep breath, she said quickly, ‘I was wondering if I could speak to you?’
‘Certainly,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘I’m fascinated to hear why you gatecrashed my party. And after you’ve explained yourself to me, you can give a statement to the press.
‘Dio!’ His tenuous control over his temper cracked. ‘Have you any idea of the furore you’ve caused? Because of you, my business deal is about to go down the pan.’
So he regarded his engagement to Lady Felicity as a business deal! Kristen shook her head. She had known that Sergio was hard but, even so, she was shocked by the proof of his complete lack of emotion. She must have been mad to think he would agree to give financial assistance for Nico.
‘Actually, forget it,’ she muttered. ‘There’s no point in me talking to you.’ She tried to walk past him but his hand shot out and gripped her shoulder. Panic sharpened her voice. ‘Will you please let me go?’
‘You must be joking,’ Sergio said grimly. ‘Our conversation hasn’t even started. Come into my suite so that we can be assured of privacy.’
It was an order rather than an invitation and, before Kristen could argue, he opened the door and steered her into an elegant sitting room. But she barely noticed the décor. The feeling that she had walked into a trap intensified when Sergio closed the door and her vivid imagination pictured her as a fly caught in a spider’s web, with no chance of escape.
‘Take a seat,’ he commanded, waving his hand towards the large sofa in the centre of the room.
Kristen remained standing just inside the door, tension emanating from every pore. Sergio frowned as it occurred to him that she looked nervous. Hell, he had every right to be angry with her, he assured himself as he recalled the scene in the function room. But the possibility that she was afraid of him made him uncomfortable. He raked his hand through his hair. As he stared at her, an image flashed into his mind of her ravaged, tear-stained face at the hospital in Sicily. She had been devastated by what had happened, but soon afterwards she had returned to England and he didn’t know if she had coped okay. He should have phoned her to see how she was, his conscience pricked. But at the time it had seemed better to make a clean break, and if he was honest his pride had been hurt by her decision to leave him.
‘How are you?’ he asked gruffly.
She looked surprised by his softer tone. ‘I’m fine...thank you.’
‘It’s been a long time since we last saw one another.’ Irritated with himself for his uncharacteristic lack of savoir faire, Sergio stalked over to the bar. ‘Would you like a drink?’
There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and, without waiting for her to reply, he popped the cork, filled two tall flutes and held one out to her. With obvious reluctance, she crossed the room and took the glass from him.
‘To old acquaintances, or perhaps I should make that to unexpected visitors,’ he said drily. ‘Why did you interrupt my party, Kristen?’
Kristen took a gulp of champagne and felt the sensation of bubbles bursting on her tongue. ‘I’ve already told you that I wanted to talk to you...about something important.’ She bit her lip, finding it impossible to utter the statement, By the way, you have a three-year-old child who you’ve never met.
Sergio nodded towards the sofa. ‘In that case, you had better sit down.’
Sitting seemed the safest option when her legs felt like jelly. Kristen sat, and immediately sank into the soft cushions. She tensed when he sat down next to her and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He extended his arm along the back of the sofa and she couldn’t restrain the little quiver that ran down her spine as she imagined his long, tanned fingers stroking her exposed nape where her hair was swept up into a chignon.
An awkward silence fell until he said abruptly, ‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’
Kristen’s heart missed a beat and, to steady her nerves, she took another gulp of champagne.
‘I...’ While she was searching for the right words she made the mistake of looking at him, and whatever she had been about to say died on her tongue when she discovered that he was looking at her in a way that convinced her he was remembering her naked. The bold glitter in his eyes was inappropriate and outrageous, but the damning heat in her breasts as they swelled and strained against her suddenly too-tight bra was even more shocking.
‘As you probably know, the Castellano Group owns many hotels around the world,’ Sergio was saying. ‘Staff issues would normally be dealt with by the Hotel Royale’s manager, but I will try to be of help.’ He frowned. ‘I admit I am puzzled to find you working as a waitress, Kristen. As I recall, you left me to return to university and finish your studies.’
For a few seconds Kristen stared at him blankly, before realisation dawned that he had mistaken her for a waitress. She glanced down at the plain black skirt she had bought to wear to her mother’s funeral. As far as Sergio was aware, there was no other reason why she would have been at his private party.
He made the past sound so black and white, she thought bitterly. It was true she had left him to go back to university, but only because he had made it clear that in the long-term there was no place for her in his life. His offer for her to be his temporary mistress had not been enough to persuade her to give up everything she had worked for.
She darted a glance at his hard-boned face. There was no point in raking over the cold embers of their relationship. Everything had been said four years ago. Sergio had wanted her, but only on his terms. As much as she had loved