A Ring to Claim His Legacy

by Rachael Thomas

  Shame tore through him. That was exactly what he’d done—at least, that was what he’d led her to believe, hardly able to believe himself that those feelings he’d had on the island were still there. He pushed them away, buried them with the pain of just who he really was, convinced they’d make him weak, and he looked at Imogen, willing her to understand, not to judge him.

  * * *

  Imogen finally gave in to the temptation to touch Marco and reached out to place her hand on his arm, feeling the muscles of his forearm flex and tighten as she did so.

  ‘I’d be a fool not to notice that you and your father don’t get on, that somehow you are trying to prove something by bringing me here to meet him.’ She watched his profile turn sterner as she spoke and wondered if she’d gone too far. ‘I want to see him again, Marco. Family means everything to me and, whatever happens between us in the future, your parents are my baby’s family.’

  ‘I understand that, Imogen, but please don’t think our baby is going to make the issues my father and I have better, because it won’t.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Her overwrought emotions threatened to get the better of her once more.

  Marco gentled his tone, placed a hand over hers as it rested on his arm and looked at her, searching her eyes, and for a moment it was like being back on the island with her. But then her shutters rushed back up. ‘The lie he and I have lived with has gone on too long to be undone.’

  ‘But he’s family.’

  ‘Family, yes, but not my father. He made my mother keep it from me all these years, even had his name put on my birth certificate.’ There was raw pain in Marco’s voice now and her heart went out to him as she fought the need to hold him, to try and soothe his pain in the best way she knew.

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘My mother had an affair with Emilio’s brother, Giancarlo, whilst engaged to Emilio. They were found out, but just days later Giancarlo was killed in a car crash. My mother was pregnant—with me.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness. Your father, or rather the man you’ve always thought of as your father, must really have loved your mother.’

  ‘Maybe that’s what it was.’ The harshness of Marco’s statement sent a shiver down her spine. ‘But Emilio isn’t my father.’

  ‘Oh, Marco,’ Imogen said softly, feeling his pain, his confusion. ‘The man lying in hospital is your father. He raised you. He even said you were his son.’

  The car pulled up in front of a clothes store and Imogen inwardly groaned as the moment between them was snatched away. She’d almost found the real Marco.

  Marco pulled his hand from hers, severed the connection which had nearly been made. ‘I tried all my life to please him. Took his New York hotel chain and made it global, but it wasn’t enough. I was always the disappointment, the son who didn’t quite match up, and now I know why. I wasn’t his son at all. I was his brother’s child, and it wouldn’t be his own son that would carry the Silviano name into the next generation.’

  ‘You can’t really believe that?’

  He inhaled deeply, and she waited, but when he looked at his watch she knew the moment was gone. The openness lost. ‘We have a few hours. I’m sure you will find something suitable here.’

  Imogen didn’t want to go in and buy anything. She wanted the car to continue driving around so that she could talk more with Marco, but from the firm set of his jaw she knew the conversation was over. He’d told her enough for her to understand why there was animosity between him and the man in the hospital, his father. Now it was clear there would be nothing more from him and, whilst she felt his pain, his sense of rejection, she couldn’t understand why he’d ever thought that marriage was the solution.

  ‘I’m not sure we should be doing this.’ She ventured her opinion.

  ‘What?’ He frowned at her as he got out of the car and waited for her to do the same. ‘Buy a dress?’

  She almost laughed at his subtle humour, which reminded her of the man she’d met on the island, but reality quickly overruled that need. ‘Go to the party, get engaged and yes, even buy a dress.’

  He smiled at her retaliation. ‘We need to do all of those things, Imogen. As I said before, I don’t want anyone to question that we are engaged.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked as she walked through the doors of the store, her eyes widening when she saw the array of clothing on offer. It also niggled that he seemed comfortable in here with her and she wondered how many other women he’d kitted out for a party.

  ‘Because I haven’t yet given up on us getting married.’

  ‘That isn’t what I agreed to, Marco. I’m here just to meet your father—because he’s ill.’

  He paused as assistants hovered close by, but he didn’t seem to notice them. ‘We are having a baby, Imogen. We will be linked together through that child for ever, a child I want to bring up as a Silviano, so why not get married?’

  ‘Because we don’t love one another.’

  He stared at her for a moment, then inhaled deeply. ‘As I said, I haven’t given up yet.’

  Imogen was left stunned as he walked away towards the far side of the store. Did he really think everything would fall neatly into place just because he wanted it to? She looked at the assistants, wishing she and Marco were anywhere else but here. This needed to be sorted now.

  He turned and looked at her, oblivious to her discomfort. Instead he gestured to the array of expensive dresses around her. ‘This is my sister Bianca’s favourite store, so I am positive you will find something for this evening.’

  Moments later, Imogen was being whisked away to the dressing rooms by a very enthusiastic assistant. She tried various styles and various colours, all the time worrying what Marco was doing whilst she was in there. Finally, she stepped into a gold silk dress which had soft folds to help cover the bump of her baby.

  ‘This is the dress,’ she told the assistant, and went to show Marco.

  His gaze travelled down her body so slowly she was sure she could feel his touch, but when he looked at her she saw the darkening of his eyes, and the suggestive hint of desire in them. It was how he’d looked at her the night she’d made love with him and a tremor of pleasure hurtled down her spine.

  ‘Bellissima,’ he said slowly, his seductive tone making desire unfurl within her. She should resist it, should fight it with all her strength, because if she didn’t she was in danger of being the woman who’d longed for more than a one-week romance. If she stood any chance of walking away from him once the agreed two weeks were up, then she must not become just Imogen again.

  ‘I think this one,’ she stated boldly, trying hard not to allow her reaction to him show.

  He nodded. ‘Si, that is the dress. Tonight you will dazzle New York.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IMOGEN ENTERED THE party on Marco’s arm, aware of everyone’s scrutiny. The gold dress she’d finally settled on made her feel really special, although it didn’t quite fully conceal the bump of their baby. She glanced around as they walked across the already crowded room and she could guess what some people may be saying about her and the baby, about why Marco had become engaged.

  It made her nervous. Not that she’d ever show it. She held her head up, smiled at the guests who greeted them and kept close to Marco. It was one of the most uncomfortable things she’d done so far as part of the charade. The other had been telling her parents about Marco. Making them believe she and Marco were happy and in love had been as hard as having most of New York’s elite society scrutinising her.

  The discomfort wasn’t helped by her annoyance and frustration that Marco had told her something of himself then shut the barriers and locked her out once more. As if to compensate for this he’d turned up the charm to lethal levels and already she could feel herself drawn to him once more, just as she had been on the island.

  The ballroom
of the imposing Fifth Avenue hotel was stunning and being here amidst all these people was like stepping out of reality all over again and into the world of escape she’d occupied on the island. Marco was attentive and looked so handsome in his tuxedo, and she knew that if she wasn’t careful she’d succumb very easily to his charm, to the romance of the moment. It was luring her once more ever closer.

  ‘So many guests!’ she exclaimed as she held Marco’s hand, not willing to let it go now despite her reservations about getting close to him again.

  ‘My sister,’ Marco said as he guided her towards two tall, slender, dark-haired women, ‘Bianca.’

  ‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Bianca said as she kissed Imogen on first one cheek then the other. Her warm smile was reflected in her eyes and Imogen liked her instantly. ‘No wonder my brother wouldn’t come back from his island retreat.’

  Imogen laughed to cover the shock. Bianca knew about her and her time with Marco on the island? Did that mean he’d talked about her to Bianca before they’d met again in Oxford? A little gleam of hope began to swirl through her.

  ‘And we are all so excited about the baby.’ Bianca spoke more softly as Marco started chatting to other guests. ‘A baby is just what Marco needs.’

  There it was again. Marco needed the baby. ‘It must have come as a shock,’ Imogen said as Bianca’s excitement trickled through her, pushing to one side that niggling doubt. She was sure she could talk to Bianca. Just maybe not right now.

  ‘Not a shock, no. He’s always known he would be the one to continue the family name,’ Bianca said with a smile that briefly held sadness. ‘It was a lovely surprise and I’m so happy you are getting married and staying in New York.’

  ‘I’m not sure we’ve decided yet.’ Imogen hoped this conversation wouldn’t go deeper, wouldn’t delve too much into the marriage she was slowly being backed into.

  ‘Whatever you decide, I’m excited to have a new sister,’ Bianca enthused as her attention was taken by more guests arriving. ‘We’ll talk again soon, but right now you and Marco have more guests to greet.’

  As if on cue, Marco returned to her side, smiling down at her in a way that made a rush of something more than just desire-laden need course through her. She wanted this all to be real, but more than anything else she wished he wanted her and the baby as much as he needed them.

  ‘Bianca is really nice,’ Imogen said, trying to force her mind from things that couldn’t ever really be.

  ‘You say that as if I could never have a nice sister,’ he joked with her as he took her arm and moved them towards a large gathering of men resplendent in tuxedos and women looking very elegant in cocktail dresses or long evening gowns. The whole thing was surreal. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever expected to be moving in such affluent and completely glamorous circles.

  ‘I did wonder what she’d be like,’ she teased as she smiled up at him. ‘But she is not like you at all.’

  His brows rose in mock indignation. ‘Be careful, Imogen; if you tease me too much I might make you pay for that comment.’ The dark look in his eyes sent warm shivers through her.

  ‘Just how do you intend to do that?’ She couldn’t stop, the new light and carefree way they were right now so much like their time on the island. It was like having back the Marco she’d first met. The unguarded and very sexy Marco.

  He moved a little closer to her, whispering seductively in her ear, ‘I will kiss you until you can’t do anything else but beg me for more.’

  She blushed at the thought and her heart skipped a beat. This was the Marco she’d first met, and she wished she were alone with him right now, wished that he would do just that. Fortunately, she was saved from having to reply as an older man and his wife came to congratulate them, swiftly followed by more people until she was completely confused as to who was who.

  The next few hours continued in the same way and Imogen tried not to feel anxious as the party atmosphere increased. So many people wanted to congratulate them that she was left in no doubt that Marco was held in high esteem by many people. It was only as the music slowed that she saw her first opportunity to talk to Marco about what Bianca had said.

  ‘I think we should take to the floor now.’ He smiled that charming and captivating smile he’d used whilst they’d been on the island, and she couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Everyone will be expecting us to dance.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ she said softly as memories of another night she’d danced with him rushed back. She placed her hand in his and followed him into the middle of the other dancers, the magic of the moment, the romance of the music seeping into her, threatening to dismantle the barriers she’d put up to protect herself from falling for this man.

  The look in his eyes as he turned to her, took her in his arms, left her in no doubt he was fighting the attraction too. It was just like being on the island all over again. His palm was warm against her back as he held her. She moved towards him, unable to resist the urge to feel his body against hers again, and his brows rose as the bump of their baby pressed against him. His eyes darkened as he held her even closer.

  The sensation shocked her. It was so intimate, so powerful, that it brought all the memories of their night together rushing back.

  ‘We can’t fight it for ever, Imogen,’ Marco whispered in her ear, his breath sending stars of hot pleasure shooting all over her.

  ‘We can.’ Her whisper became husky as he held her tight against him, the bump of their baby between them, as if he was using it to remind her of what they’d had on the island. The night they had created this new life. ‘It’s not about us any more.’

  ‘That’s where you are wrong, mia bella.’ His voice was so husky, so sexy, and dancing with him like this, when he was wearing his tuxedo as he had that last night on the island, was too much. It was testing her restraint, her ability to think rationally. She couldn’t let him do this to her, couldn’t allow herself to be carried away with the romance of the moment, not when she was only here with him because of the baby she carried. ‘It is all about us. You, me and our baby.’

  ‘Please, Marco,’ she breathed the words, her heart thumping as it tried to rule her head, tried to make her believe what he was saying was real, ‘don’t say what you don’t mean.’

  He lowered his head, his lips so close to hers that at any second they might touch. ‘I mean it, Imogen. Maybe this will prove it.’

  He brushed his lips over hers so lightly it was like snowflakes landing on them in the winter, but the heat of his light and teasing kiss induced heat as hot as the desert sun. She shuddered in a deep breath, determined to resist him, determined to stop her heart getting carried away. A kiss didn’t mean he could give her what she really wanted—love.

  But a kiss did prove she was far from indifferent to him, that she still wanted him and the illusion of the fantasy they’d shared on the island. Was it so wrong to want one more night with him? Was it so wrong to indulge in the romance of the night one last time?

  Whatever happened between them after tonight and no matter where they were in the world, they would always be tied to one another with the baby she carried. Surely, she could indulge in the fantasy a little more before returning to England?

  * * *

  Marco felt the warmth of Imogen’s breath, tasted the sweetness of the orange juice she’d been sipping during the evening, but most of all he felt their baby between them. It jolted him, convincing him that keeping Imogen in his life, making her his wife, was not only what he needed, but what he wanted. There was no way he would allow his child to grow up without him in his life and, even though his natural father hadn’t intended that to happen to his child, it had.

  ‘That just proves we still want each other.’ She looked boldly at him. ‘It doesn’t mean we are meant to be together, Marco.’

  She looked up at him, reproach in her eyes, and he had to sti
fle the urge to laugh—or kiss her. She looked so beautiful tonight, the gold dress showing off her glorious figure and her baby bump, and as he’d watched her talk with other people he’d been shocked by the swell of pride he’d felt. He’d tried to quell that pride, aware it was weakening him, putting him at the mercy of the kind of emotions he’d always shut out of his life. Now he looked down at her, wanting to banish those sentimental images she could so easily evoke. Imogen was his fiancée and carrying their baby—a baby that could be the son he needed. This woman was everything he needed. And more.

  He had to convince Imogen that marriage, for so many reasons, was the right thing to do. ‘We might well have escaped reality together whilst we were on the island, but that escape has crept into reality, Imogen, and now that reality has to change.’

  ‘Please don’t spoil tonight.’ Her whispered plea was heartfelt and it made him feel something deep down, a kind of emotion he’d never felt before. ‘Don’t talk of tomorrow or any other day afterwards. I just want tonight to be about us, not reality.’

  The message in her eyes was as clear as it had been that day on the beach as he’d revealed the surprise he’d created for their night of pleasure. She’d wanted him then, wanted so much more than just a kiss, and now that same desire shone from her eyes.

  ‘Just tonight.’ He whispered the promise against her lips as the music slowed to a stop.

  She moved to lay her head on his shoulder and a wave of protectiveness crashed over him. As the next slow song began he wrapped his arms around her more tightly, wishing they were alone in his apartment instead of here at the flagship hotel of Silviano Leisure Group.

  ‘Can we leave now?’ She lifted her head and looked up at him and the potency of the attraction between them sent a surge of hot need racing through him. If he didn’t leave now he was in danger of losing his legendary control.