A Ring to Claim His Legacy

by Rachael Thomas

  He took her hand and led her to the side of the building with the view out towards Central Park in the distance. Around them other sightseers laughed and exclaimed over the views they saw but right now all he could focus on was Imogen.

  He couldn’t help himself any longer. He had to kiss her again and bring back the flames of desire to drown all she’d opened up. He had to taste her lips on his once more and he had to do it now. He lifted her chin and lowered his head to press his lips tenderly against hers. The light contact sparked the heated desire they’d shared last night once more. He caught her sigh as she breathed into the kiss, he felt her body mould to his as she wrapped her arms around him.

  He’d never experienced anything like this before. For him dating women was all about glamorous parties, high-end meals, being seen in the right places before taking his date home and giving in to the primal urge of sex. It was as if this kiss actually meant something. Was it because she carried his baby? A child he would see in just a few hours when they attended the scan.

  * * *

  Excitement and trepidation rushed through Imogen as her baby’s image came up on the ultrasound screen. She couldn’t take her eyes from its movements, even when Marco leaned closer and took her hand, bringing him so very close to her. She focused her attention on the screen, on her baby, trying to ignore how close Marco was as well as the seemingly never-ending beeps as measurements of the baby were taken. Imogen panicked. Was this normal? Was her baby okay?

  ‘Is the baby all right?’ she asked anxiously, aware of Marco’s gaze flying to her face then to the sonographer, who instantly reassured them that everything was perfectly normal, and Imogen relaxed. She looked up at Marco again, but his attention was now solely focused on the screen, where the image of their baby was moving, first an arm, then a leg. Imogen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it. That was her baby.

  ‘I can’t believe it. Look, it’s moving,’ Marco said, his voice a husky whisper of wonder, and she looked up at him, saw the wonder on his face as he watched the limbs of his baby move. She studied his face, felt the smile playing on her lips, and knew it was too late for her. She loved this man. Her smile slipped. Would he ever love her?

  ‘That’s our baby,’ Imogen said very softly as she held Marco’s hand tighter, tried to convey without words how she felt about this moment, about him. As he looked down at her she could almost believe he was doing the same.

  ‘There’s the heartbeat.’ The sonographer’s voice caught their attention, breaking the spell, and they looked at the screen again.

  ‘Oh, my goodness. I can see its heart beating,’ Imogen said, her voice barely a whisper as all sorts of emotions rushed through her. Seeing her baby on the screen, seeing its heart beating, just made everything feel so much more real. Happiness flooded through her. She might not be in a proper relationship with her baby’s father, but she was really happy about impending motherhood. She wanted to shower this baby with everything she possibly could, but most of all she wanted to give it love. Lots of love. She didn’t want her child to ever doubt how much it was loved and wanted.

  ‘Can you tell its sex?’ Imogen’s gaze flew to Marco as he spoke. It wasn’t just the sudden harshness of the words after the emotion of moments ago, it was the question itself. Was it really that important for him to know?

  Imogen reluctantly admitted that it was vital he know, and it wasn’t just Marco who would be waiting for news. The whole reason she had been brought to New York, paraded as his fiancée and mother of his child, she now knew, was not to make his father happy but to prove a point. Whatever it was that had gone on between them in the past was still very much there. She could only guess what Marco needed to prove to his father and that guess was that he could produce the next Silviano boy. To do that he needed this baby to be a son. The sadness of the situation trickled through her like an icy cold mountain stream as she recalled his words in Oxford: You have what I need.

  ‘Would you like to know?’ the sonographer asked as she rolled the transducer over Imogen’s tummy. A part of Imogen wanted to say no, then as she looked at the firm set of Marco’s jaw she knew that they both needed to know, but for very different reasons.

  ‘Yes, yes, please, I’d like to know.’

  Imogen lay there and closed her eyes, not daring to look at the screen, and she felt Marco’s fingers tighten around her hand. She could feel his tension and knew that not only her whole future hinged on this moment, but also that of her child’s.

  ‘There we are.’ The sonographer paused her movements over Imogen’s tummy and as the bleep sounded once more Imogen opened her eyes and looked at the screen. She had no idea what she was expecting to see but she couldn’t tell whether the baby was a boy or girl and, judging by the ever-tightening grip on her hand, neither could Marco.

  ‘Is it a boy?’

  Imogen’s heart thudded harder as Marco’s question, full of aggressive hope, seemed to slice the tension in the room. If the sonographer was aware of it, she was doing a very good job of hiding her shock.

  ‘It’s a girl.’

  ‘A girl?’ The question rushed from Marco, the harshness in his tone something Imogen had never heard from him before, and right there and then her world crashed down around her.

  Marco didn’t want a girl. Marco needed a son. A Silviano heir to make a point to his father, to prove whatever it was he was so desperate to prove. Over the last day or so Imogen had allowed herself to hope, had allowed herself to believe that maybe whatever it was that was between her and Marco was enough to build a marriage on, for the baby’s sake. Now, in just one split second, everything had changed.

  ‘And is she healthy? Is everything as it should be?’ Marco demanded, sounding more like he was in the boardroom than the hospital seeing the first glimpse of his baby.

  ‘Yes, yes. Everything is just fine. Your little girl is just as she should be at nineteen weeks.’

  ‘Good.’ Marco stepped away from where Imogen lay, letting go of her hand, and she could feel herself drifting from him already, as if he was more than physically stepping back from her.

  Imogen refused to allow him to spoil the moment. This was her baby, her little girl, and just because it wasn’t what he wanted she was not going to allow him to darken this moment. She focused her attention firmly on the screen as a few final measurements were taken. She didn’t want to look at Marco, she didn’t want to see the disappointment in his face.

  Feeling more as if she was in some kind of nightmare, Imogen sat up and sorted her clothing, all the time keeping her attention off Marco. She just couldn’t look at him yet, couldn’t face seeing the disappointment in his face. The tension in the room climbed ever higher. She had to get out; she couldn’t stay in this confined space with him for much longer.

  ‘I need some fresh air,’ Imogen said as she forced back the emotions that were rushing at her like a tidal wave, making her head spin and bringing back the nausea.

  ‘It’s very hot today,’ the sonographer sympathised as she turned to face Imogen. She looked at Marco. ‘Perhaps your husband will take you outside for some air.’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say they weren’t married, but the thought that would never now be true made her want to cry. He didn’t need a daughter and he didn’t need her. The fact that she had fallen in love with him was irrelevant. She fought harder to keep back the tears, determined not to show any kind of weakness. Not in front of Marco.

  ‘We will get some air then go and see my father while we are at the hospital.’ There was a definite crispness to his voice and the panic Imogen had felt the moment she knew their baby was a girl intensified further, making her head ache.

  ‘Are you going to tell him? About the baby being a girl?’ Tentatively she asked the question, taken aback when he looked at her, his eyes dark and forbidding.

  ‘I have never pleased my father yet. I have spent al
l my life trying to and only recently I found out why I could never succeed.’ He stopped, his hand reaching out to her, forcing her to look at him. His gaze held hers as they blocked the hospital corridor and she could see the shock, the disappointment in them. ‘No, I am not going to tell him. He doesn’t need to know.’

  Those words were the death knell to any hope she had that she and Marco might really work. He was ashamed of his daughter, and in her eyes that meant only one thing: he would never be able to love her or his daughter and would never be able to be the kind of father she’d had. Family had been the most important thing in her life and despite the passion she and Marco had shared, despite the attraction still crackling between them, he could never be the family man she’d always dreamed of marrying.

  ‘Perhaps you should tell him,’ she broached gingerly, trying to protect herself, her heart, as much as anything. ‘Maybe it would be better to be honest now.’

  ‘I’ll handle this my way.’ The harshness of his tone cut her already battered emotions, but she refused to let him see the hurt.

  She placed her hand on his arm. ‘We can do this together.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go alone.’ Why did he always push her away?

  ‘He is our daughter’s grandfather.’ It was a fact neither of them could escape and she watched Marco’s jaw clench in annoyance at the truth of her words.

  ‘As you wish,’ he said as he began to walk along the corridor, leaving her no option but to follow as they made their way to his father’s room on the other side of the hospital.

  CHAPTER TEN

  MARCO DID AS he always did when he spent any time in his father’s company: he prepared for the feeling that he’d failed him and the Silviano name. He also knew that this time he’d failed Imogen—he’d let her down. He’d been so shocked when the sonographer had said the baby was a girl that all hope he could finally do something to gain his father’s approval had evaporated. He shouldn’t have let his shock show. He should have considered how Imogen would feel. He’d brought her to New York because of the baby she carried, because he wanted to prove to his father that he could and would step up to his responsibilities. He’d hoped for a son, one to inherit the family fortune after him. He’d never considered the implications if the baby was a girl.

  As Imogen had looked at him he saw the closeness they’d found slipping away. He saw it in her eyes, in the way she’d moved as she stood up and adjusted her clothing. She hadn’t been able to do it quick enough, as if she wanted to hide the baby from him. She was upset, hurting, and he’d done that to her. Driven on by a selfish need to prove himself, he’d hurt the one person who’d wanted to be with him because of who he really was, not who he always tried to be.

  He opened the door to his father’s private room and walked in before his nerve deserted him. Yet again he was going to have to be a big disappointment to the man who’d brought him up as his own son, keeping the Silviano family name going. This was exactly what he’d been escaping from when he’d gone to his island retreat: family drama.

  ‘How lovely to see you both again.’ His mother beamed as she got up and came to them, greeting Imogen with a kiss and hug. A pang of guilt snapped at him. He was going to be letting her down too. She’d been putting pressure on him for several years to marry, to give her grandchildren. He’d thought when his sister had done that last year the pressure would slacken. It hadn’t. A boy, born to a Silviano son, was needed and it was his duty to provide that. He just couldn’t decide if his mother’s loyalties lay with his natural father, the lover she’d lost before she’d become a Silviano, or her husband, the man who’d taken on his brother’s son. A son that would be the only one he had after his two daughters were born.

  He pushed all the bad-tasting thoughts from his mind, not wanting to drag Imogen deeper into the complexities of his family life. As he walked towards the bed he looked at his father, pleased to see he seemed in better spirits than he had for a long time. ‘You are looking better.’

  ‘I will be even better when I get out of here,’ his father snapped, but Marco didn’t miss the wink of conspiracy he gave his mother. They looked so close now, but he could still remember the times when things between them had been rocky, especially when he was younger. Had they too married purely for convenience? Could he and Imogen one day have that too if they married because of the baby—his daughter? Could he forgive and forget the past as Imogen had urged him to just this morning? Could he love his daughter? More importantly, could he give Imogen what she wanted—love?

  The thought hung in his mind like icicles in a New York winter. ‘You have to be guided by the doctors, Father.’ He spoke mechanically, not really part of the conversation, as a turmoil of emotions assailed him. He wasn’t fit to be a father. How could he give a child the love it deserved, the love it needed when he’d never known it from his own father?

  Imogen came to stand next to him, snapping him from his thoughts, and he pulled up a chair for her next to his father. Wanting to save her from the same kind of inquisitions he’d always endured, the same scolding for not being or doing what was needed, he stood behind her as she sat. He put his hand protectively on her shoulder, trying to let her know that he knew exactly how she must be feeling right now as his father looked from her to him with expectation in his eyes. He wanted her to know he was here for her. After the way he’d reacted at the scan he wanted to make amends, not a need he was familiar with when it came to women, and right now he didn’t even know where to begin. All he knew was it mattered to him what she thought, that she wasn’t upset any more. It mattered a hell of a lot.

  ‘And I will be, son.’ His father looked at Imogen and smiled, but that last word echoed in his mind. He’d never called him son before. As this sank in his father directed the conversation at Imogen. ‘And how are you today? I hear the party was a great success, as were you.’

  ‘It was a lovely party. I’m so sorry you had to miss it.’ Imogen leaned towards his father and Marco couldn’t decide if it was her natural way or she was trying to pull away from him. It was no more than he deserved after the way he’d just treated her.

  ‘Well, I won’t miss the next one.’ His father laughed, and Marco knew he had to do something to make amends to Imogen, something to redeem himself in her eyes.

  ‘We had a scan today.’ Marco dropped the words into the conversation and could almost see the ripples radiating around the room as if he’d just thrown a big stone into a lake. Imogen opened her purse and pulled out the scan image.

  ‘This is our baby.’ She handed over the photo and his mother sat on the bed next to his father and looked at it with him, a big, beaming smile on her face. She looked at his father and in that moment Marco knew they loved one another. Whatever had brought them together was still there, despite the rocky road of their marriage. He would never be able to give Imogen that, not after years of fighting for even the smallest show of affection. Every time he’d tried to give his love, every time he’d sought it from his father it had been coldly rejected until he’d locked his heart away, shutting love out of his life. The fear of having his love rejected had been too much. It still was.

  ‘It’s a girl,’ Marco said firmly, wanting the truth out there, wanting nothing more than to prove to Imogen he didn’t mind if the baby was a boy or a girl. As Imogen looked at him, he saw her eyes glittering. Was that anger or tears? Whatever it was it made him feel like hell. He wasn’t going to be able to undo the way he’d acted during the scan with just a few words.

  ‘A girl?’ his father asked, and Imogen looked at her hands, now clutched firmly in her lap. He could feel her spirit slipping away, see her confidence and happiness vanishing as her shoulders dropped and her body seemed to weaken with every breath she took. He’d done that to her. If he hadn’t said what he’d said at the scan, if he’d let her know, let her feel, that he wanted the baby no matter what, she would be strong enough to take th
is from his father.

  He stood taller as the need to protect Imogen kicked back in. ‘Yes, a girl. Not the much coveted Silviano heir.’ He heard Imogen’s gasp and his sense of inadequacy increased.

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ his mother interjected kindly, looking from him to Imogen.

  ‘Of course it matters,’ his father growled and Marco wished he’d saved this conversation for a time when Imogen wouldn’t have to witness it. ‘Any fool can see what you are doing, Marco. You two never planned to marry and if there wasn’t a baby you wouldn’t even be together.’

  Imogen jumped up from the chair and rushed to the door. She turned and looked at him, but he didn’t know what to say to make it right for her—hell, he didn’t even know what to do. How had his father seen the truth?

  Imogen held his gaze for a moment longer then pulled open the door and fled as if her life depended on it. Marco marched across the room, yanked the door wider and turned to his father. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’

  ‘You might not be my biological son, but you are a Silviano.’ His father hurled the words at him from the bed. ‘Now you need to live up to that name and see what’s right in front of you and do the right thing.’

  ‘And what is that?’ snapped Marco, torn between the need to finally have this out with his father or go after the only woman who had made him wish he could love and be loved.

  ‘Dio mio, Marco. That girl loves you.’ Marco froze as his father’s voice dropped. He’d never heard such resignation in his voice before. ‘It makes no difference what the child is. Don’t be the kind of fool I have been. Do the right thing and love her back or damn well let her go!’

  Marco’s mind raced as his father’s admission settled over him. His heart thudded. He looked at his father in silence then turned and ran from the room, sliding round the corner of the corridor and running down it, dodging staff and patients’ visitors alike, causing some to berate him. He slid round another corner just in time to see the elevator doors open and Imogen standing there, head bent, looking so lost, so vulnerable that his heart broke.