His Unexpected Legacy

by Chantelle Shaw

  She shook her tumbling mane of blonde hair over her shoulders and sat back a little so that her breasts thrust provocatively forward. Sergio inhaled sharply and the sensation of his arousal stirring beneath her made her feel triumphant that she had power over him. ‘You fall far short of what I want from a husband,’ she told him. ‘But as a lover you are first class.’

  Sergio’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that so? Are you saying you want to have sex with me but nothing else?’

  ‘How does it feel, Sergio?’ she taunted. ‘Does it make you feel good to know that the only part of you I’m interested in is your body? That’s how you made me feel during our affair.’ Her voice shook betrayingly. ‘I was good enough for sex but not for you to share your feelings with.’

  To her surprise, he did not refute her accusation but sighed deeply. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel like that and I’m sorry I hurt you.’

  He could not change the past, Sergio thought heavily. He had not met Kristen’s emotional needs and he could understand why she was afraid that he would fail Nico in the same way that he had failed her. Somehow he had to show her that he could change. He would not find it easy to open up when he had kept his emotions locked away for most of his life, but everything was at stake here and he was willing to try.

  He looked into her bright blue eyes and felt an inexplicable ache in his chest. She was so beautiful. His gaze dropped to her small, firm breasts with their puckered nipples and a white-hot shaft of desire ripped through him but, instead of taking control and flipping her onto her back, he relaxed against the pillows and spread his arms wide like an indolent sultan waiting to be pleasured by his favourite concubine.

  ‘If sex is what you want, then take me, Krissie. I’m all yours.’

  Sergio’s soft words stabbed Kristen through the heart. He had never been hers, not in the way she longed for. His heart and soul belonged solely to himself, and perhaps, she thought with a pang, to his dead wife. Passion was all he had ever given her. So why not accept what he offered and take her pleasure with his virile body, if that was all she could have of him?

  The hard glitter in his eyes betrayed his hunger, but amazingly he seemed prepared to allow her to take the lead. A heady sense of power swept through her and a desire to tease and torment him as he had done so often to her. She held his gaze as she unfastened his shirt buttons and pushed the material aside to expose his darkly tanned chest, and leaned forward so that the tips of her breasts brushed across his wiry chest hairs.

  The sensation made her nipples tingle and harden. The contrast between her milky-pale breasts and his bronzed skin was incredibly erotic. Colour flared on his cheekbones and his breath hissed between his teeth as her hair fell forward and brushed lightly over his naked torso.

  ‘Witch,’ he said raggedly as she moved lower so that her soft hair and her pebble-hard nipples stroked a path over his abdomen. With nimble fingers she deftly undid the zip of his trousers and when her hands slid beneath his boxers and closed around his throbbing arousal Sergio gave a low groan. He knew he was close to the edge and almost gave in to the temptation to roll over and drag her beneath him so that he could find the relief he craved, but he managed to hold back. It was true that when they had made love previously it had always been on his terms, and he had never given himself completely. But if he was ever going to win Kristen’s trust he must prove that he did not want to dominate her.

  The flick of her tongue over the sensitive tip of his manhood made him clench his muscles to stop himself from falling apart. His body shook as he fought the waves of pleasure that rolled over him when she took his swollen shaft into the moist cavern of her mouth.

  ‘What does it feel like to know that this is all that exists between us?’ she murmured.

  If it was true, it would hurt him maybe more deeply than any pain he had known in his life, Sergio acknowledged. But he had heard the tremor in her voice and recognised the inherent tenderness of her caresses, and he was certain that she felt more for him than simply sexual desire. It was in her kiss when she arched above him and claimed his mouth with heart-shaking passion. He glimpsed it briefly in her eyes when she guided herself down onto him and took his rigid length inside her, inch by inch, pausing while her internal muscles stretched to accommodate him. Her lashes lowered and hid her expression. But he thought he had seen love there. He wasn’t sure. But it gave him hope that perhaps there was a chance he could win her back.

  Desire took over wild and wanton as she rode him, her slender body moving with instinctive grace while he cupped her breasts and played with her nipples, increasing her pleasure, escalating her excitement so that she threw her head back and made love to him with an abandonment that touched his soul. They climaxed simultaneously, breathing hard and fast in those moments of sheer physical ecstasy, their hearts thundering in unison when she collapsed on top of him and Sergio wrapped his arms around her and threaded his fingers in her hair.

  Eventually the world righted itself and Kristen lifted herself off Sergio and moved away from him. It was ridiculous to feel shy, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Making love with him had been heaven, but now the gates of hell beckoned as she wondered if she had given herself away. Had he guessed that desire was only one part of what she felt for him? She had taunted him that sex was all she wanted from him, but she had a horrible feeling that he knew she had been lying.

  He confirmed her fears when he propped himself on one elbow and gave her a lazy smile. ‘I think it’s fair to say we have proved irrefutably that desire is an excellent reason for us to get married.’ He paused for a heartbeat before adding softly, ‘Another reason is that we forgot to use protection, so unless you are on the Pill there’s a chance you could have conceived my child.’ He met her stunned gaze with an enigmatic expression. ‘I’ll start to organise the wedding immediately.’

  Dear God! How could she have been so stupid? Feeling numb, Kristen slid off the bed and wrapped Sergio’s shirt around her. Without saying a word, she walked into the adjoining sitting room and stood by the window, which looked out over the lake. The setting sun had turned the water to gold and beyond the lake the Sicilian countryside was bathed in mellow light while in the distance tall pine trees were silhouetted against the pink sky. The beauty of the scene, the feeling of being insignificant in the vastness of the universe, intensified the ache in Kristen’s heart.

  She heard Sergio come up behind her and when he placed a hand on her shoulder she spun round to face him. ‘How can we get married when a day ago you believed I was responsible for the bruises on Nico’s legs?’ she said shakily. ‘We are virtually strangers. If you knew me at all you would have realised that I would cut my heart out rather than hurt him.’ She swallowed. ‘Do you have any idea how I felt when I realised you had taken him? What kind of relationship would we have when there is no trust between us?’

  The shadows in her eyes warned Sergio that she deserved to hear the truth, even though that meant finally opening himself up and revealing the grim secrets of his childhood.

  ‘I trust you,’ he said intently. ‘But I admit that when I saw the bruises on Nico my reactions were purely instinctive. My only thought was to rescue him.’

  ‘You believed he needed to be rescued from me?’ Kristen blinked back the hot tears burning her eyes. ‘Do you really think I am such a terrible mother?’

  ‘No. Not now that I have watched you with him and seen how deeply you care for him. But in London...’ Sergio hesitated and took a swift breath ‘...I wondered if you were like my mother.’

  ‘I...I don’t understand.’ Looking into Sergio’s dark eyes, Kristen had the strange feeling that she was hovering on the edge of a precipice and for some reason her heart was thumping.

  ‘My mother used to beat me when I was a child.’

  The words circled around Kristen but she could not grasp them or make sense of them. Sergio s
eemed to realise that she was too shocked to respond and continued in a flat voice, ‘The bruises on Nico’s legs reminded me of the marks my mother used to leave when she caned me. When I was just a few years older than Nico I used to hope that my father would come and take me home to Sicily. I was desperate for his protection...but he never came.’ His throat worked as he fought to retain his iron self-control.

  ‘I guess I went a little mad. I had just discovered my son, and the possibility that he might be physically and emotionally at risk brought back memories of my childhood that, unfortunately, I can never forget. I wasn’t thinking straight,’ he admitted. ‘I have spent my life wondering if my father did not love me and that was why he failed to protect me. I was determined to protect Nico so that he would never have reason to doubt my love for him.’

  It was strange to hear Sergio talk of love. Kristen had often wondered why he apparently lacked the normal range of emotions that most people had, and she had longed to break through his air of detachment and discover if he really was the empty shell he gave the impression of being. Now she knew. And the truth was utterly heartbreaking. The lines of strain on his face revealed a man who was struggling to control his emotions—and who could blame him? she thought sadly.

  ‘Why did your mother...?’ She could not go on, feeling physically sick as she imagined Sergio as a young boy, being beaten by the person who should have cared for him the most. It made her want to run to Nico’s bedroom and hug him tight. She would give her life to protect her little boy and she was able to sympathise with how Sergio must have felt when he had seen bruises on Nico’s legs. It was understandable that after his experiences as a child he had wanted to protect his son, but it still hurt that he had believed Nico had needed protection from her.

  ‘I don’t know why she did it,’ Sergio said heavily. ‘I think she was frustrated by her lack of success as an actress, and she had an issue with alcohol. She could be very loving, but I always felt I was walking on a knife-edge and the slightest thing could send her into a violent rage. She told me once that her father used to beat her and her mother after he had been drinking. While she was married to my father she seemed to be a caring mother to me and my brother. But when she took me to America she started to drink heavily. I used to think she beat me because she hated me. She seemed to enjoy making me cry, and so I learned to keep my emotions bottled up. It became a matter of pride not to show my feelings...and as I grew older the habit of hiding what I felt became second nature.’

  Kristen felt a lump in her throat. It was no wonder that, after years of suffering physical abuse, Sergio had erected defences as a means of self-protection from being hurt emotionally.

  ‘Why didn’t your father help you? Surely, if you had told him what was happening, he would have tried to get you back?’

  ‘I had no contact with him from the age of five. My mother told me that it was my father’s choice. Years later, when I returned to Sicily, Tito insisted that he had tried to keep in touch and my mother had prevented him.’ Sergio’s jaw clenched. ‘Frankly, I suspect that he didn’t try very hard.’

  ‘So why did your mother allow you to go back to your father when you were a teenager?’

  He hesitated, and Kristen sensed that he was struggling to talk about his past. ‘I beat up her boyfriend.’ Sergio grimaced when he heard Kristen gasp. ‘The guy hit me, and I snapped and hit him back, breaking his nose in the process. For a few seconds I was overcome by sheer rage and I wanted to kill the guy...’ he swallowed convulsively ‘...and my mother too. But afterwards I was ashamed that I had allowed my emotions to get the better of me. I must have scared my mother because she decided she couldn’t cope with my anger issues and sent me back to Sicily. But it was too late to build a relationship with Tito, and even with my twin brother. We had been apart for ten years, and I was jealous of Salvatore’s closeness to our father. In my mind, Salvatore was the favoured son. I felt I had to prove myself to Tito, especially in business, and show him that I deserved to be his successor just as much as my brother.’

  ‘So you worked obsessively,’ Kristen said, gaining sudden insight into why the Castellano Group had been more important to him than anything else, including his relationship with her. Did he still feel the need to prove his worth to his father? she wondered. If so, where would Nico come in his priorities?

  He must have read her thoughts because he said quickly, ‘Nothing is more important to me than building a relationship with my son. Fortunately, he is young enough that he will hopefully not remember that I wasn’t around for his baby years. It is not too late for me and Nico—as it was with me and my father. I will work hard to make up for the time I lost with him.’

  The accusation that the lost years were her fault hung between them and Kristen felt even guiltier now that Sergio had told her about his childhood. ‘I did what I thought was best,’ she said stiffly. ‘You were so distant at the hospital after I’d had the miscarriage, and I truly believed you did not want a child with me.’

  ‘The fault was mine, not yours,’ he assured her. ‘I was so well-practised at hiding my emotions and it didn’t occur to me that you needed to see that I was grieving for our baby too.’

  Kristen bit her lip as a dozen ‘if onlys’ ran through her mind. If only Sergio had confided in her during their affair then she might have understood why he seemed so coldly unemotional. If only she had remained in Sicily with him, instead of going back to England in high dudgeon because he had only asked her to be his mistress, then she would have told him she was still pregnant with her dead baby’s twin, and maybe he would have married her rather than the beautiful Sicilian woman whose photo he kept in his bedroom.

  She turned away to the window and saw that the sun had sunk below the horizon while they had been talking and a few faint stars were appearing in the purple sky. Somehow the beauty of the heavens seemed tainted by the ugliness of Sergio’s revelations and she felt an aching sadness for him, for her and for the course of events that had led them to be on opposite sides, each fighting to be full-time parents to their son.

  ‘When you came to live with your father, did you tell him how your mother had treated you?’

  ‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘I have explained that we are not close...and there was a part of me that wondered if Patti’s mistreatment of me was somehow my fault. It was not something I wanted to talk about with Tito. And I couldn’t say anything to Salvatore. He was already angry that our mother had abandoned him when he was a young child. In many ways Salvatore’s childhood was as unhappy as mine. He told me that our father was very bitter after Patti left. Tito focused all his time and energy on the company and shut off his emotions. It must be a family trait,’ Sergio said grimly. ‘I couldn’t tell Salvatore that the mother he had missed so desperately when he was a child was a spiteful, unpleasant woman.

  ‘Patti died a year after I returned to Sicily—she drowned in the bath after a heavy drinking session. My brother and I didn’t have the chance to ask her why she had treated us the way she did. I was an angry and confused young man, but thankfully one person understood me. I confided in Annamaria and she helped me come to terms with my past.’

  Kristen had never heard Sergio speak in such a gentle tone, and she felt a stab of jealousy. ‘Who is Annamaria?’ The photograph of the dark-haired woman in Sergio’s bedroom leapt into her mind, and she knew the answer to her question before he could answer. ‘She was your wife, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sergio hesitated. ‘I think I should explain about Annamaria.’

  ‘There’s no need.’ Kristen stalled him quickly. The green-eyed demon inside her couldn’t bear to hear details of the woman he had married soon after their own relationship had ended. She swung around to the window and crossed her arms in front of her, subconsciously retreating from him as he had done to her in the past.

  He must have loved Annamaria to have told her about his chil
dhood. In stark contrast, he had never spoken about personal matters to her during their affair, she thought bleakly. Admittedly, he had confided in her now, but only because he needed to explain why he had snatched Nico. He had also asked her to marry him, but not because he loved her. He wanted security for Nico, and she couldn’t blame him for that after hearing about his desperately sad childhood.

  But sexual compatibility was not a firm basis for marriage. What would happen if Sergio’s desire for her faded? She couldn’t bear the prospect of being his wife in name only while he had affairs with other women. Oh, she was sure he would be discreet, but she would be so unhappy, like her mother had been with her stepfather.

  ‘I know I hurt you four years ago,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not realise how much until you told me that you believed I did not want the baby you miscarried.’

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, his jaw tightening when he felt how stiffly she was holding herself. She had put up barriers between them and he could hardly blame her when he had done the same during their affair, Sergio acknowledged heavily. But although she was wary of him she adored Nico and surely she must see that for his sake they had to put the past behind them.

  ‘I promise I can change from the person you knew four years ago,’ he said intently. ‘I have changed already. I no longer feel the need to prove myself to my father. Being Nico’s father is more important to me than any business deal.’

  The rigidity of her shoulders told him she was not reassured, and there was a wary expression in her bright blue eyes that warned him he must curb his impatience. He had sprung the idea of marriage on her and, although to him it was the obvious solution that would allow Nico to live with both his parents, Kristen clearly had reservations. He could hardly blame her after he had revealed the abuse he had suffered as a child, he acknowledged bleakly.

  ‘There is evidence which seems to show that in some cases a person who was badly treated during childhood can go on to mistreat their own children,’ he said quietly. ‘But I swear I would never harm Nico in any way. If I believed there was even the slightest chance that I could lose my temper with him I would give up my right to be his father.’