Billionaire's Secret

by Chantelle Shaw

  CHAPTER TEN

  OH, YOU FOOL, was Sophie’s first thought when she opened her eyes early the next morning and saw Nicolo’s head on the pillow beside her. The standard-size double bed was too small for his big frame, and she was supremely conscious of his naked body pressed up close against her. The weight of his hair-roughened thigh slung across her hips and the languorous ache in her muscles were stark reminders that she had not dreamed they had made love last night. Now, in the cold light of day, she was mortified that she had not even attempted to resist him. He’d only had to click his fingers and she had fallen into bed with him.

  She studied his face. His features were softer in sleep, his mouth less stern. His thick black lashes fanned his cheeks and his olive skin was a testament to his Italian heritage. He looked exotic and sexy and Sophie felt a delicious coiling sensation in the pit of her stomach as she thought of him easing his powerful erection into her.

  Enough, she told herself disgustedly. She was not going to lie here like a concubine waiting for her master to wake and take his pleasure with her. She jerked upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her stomach churned and, grabbing her robe, she raced into the en suite bathroom with barely enough time to close the door before she was sick.

  When she walked back into the bedroom ten minutes later, Nicolo was sitting up in bed with a pillow propped behind his head and the sheet draped low over his hips. He studied her pale face, his eyes questioning. Sophie looked away from him and walked across the room to stand by the window, watching a road sweeper pushing his broom over the cobblestones in Covent Garden.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he said quietly. ‘I spoke to a woman at your office called Jessie, and she told me you’ve been suffering from a gastric upset for a few weeks. She also said she thinks you’re not eating properly.’

  Sophie flushed. ‘I can’t believe you discussed personal details about me with a member of the office staff.’

  Nicolo ignored her outburst. ‘I noticed last night that you have lost weight. And you seem different, more subdued.’ Was the change in her his fault? he wondered grimly. He knew he had hurt her feelings when he had sent her away from Chatsfield House. This was why he steered clear of relationships, Nicolo thought bitterly. He had known he was no good for her, and her tangible unhappiness increased his sense of guilt.

  She hesitated. ‘It’s true that I have been feeling unwell lately. It’s probably nothing….’ A feeling of dread settled like concrete in the pit of her stomach and suddenly she could not keep her fears to herself. ‘My symptoms are similar to when I was ill when I was sixteen,’ she blurted out. She hugged her arms around herself as she turned to face Nicolo. ‘I’m worried that the cancer has come back.’

  Nicolo stared at her, too shocked for a few seconds to speak. Santa Madre, no! Don’t let it be true, a voice inside him shouted. The fearful expression on Sophie’s face made him bury his own fear and he asked calmly, ‘Have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘I’ve got an appointment at the end of the week. The surgery is very busy,’ Sophie explained.

  ‘That’s no damned good. You can’t wait another three days.’ Nicolo leapt out of bed, pulled on his trousers and grabbed his mobile phone. ‘You need to see a specialist today.’

  ‘I don’t want to make a fuss.’

  Nicolo cast Sophie a look she could not define, but she felt a sense of relief that he was taking charge. ‘You might not want to, angel, but I’m prepared to make the biggest fuss imaginable to find out what’s wrong with you. I have a friend in Harley Street. Hugh is a fantastic doctor, and I can guarantee he’ll fit you into his morning’s appointments.’

  An hour later, Sophie felt a fraud as she was ushered into Dr Hugh Bryant’s plush office that was a million miles away from the sterile and faintly depressing hospital wards where she had spent so much time as a teenager.

  ‘I feel bad for making a fuss over what is probably nothing, Dr Bryant,’ she murmured.

  ‘Call me Hugh,’ he said with a smile. ‘Nicolo explained on the phone that you have been experiencing extreme tiredness and nausea for a few weeks. He also said that you were successfully treated for cancer about ten years ago.’

  ‘Yes.’ She shot a glance at Nicolo, who was sitting beside her. She had been surprised when he had accompanied her into the doctor’s office, but she was touched by his show of support.

  She gave the doctor a brief explanation of how she had developed osteosarcoma when she had been sixteen, and mentioned that the massive doses of chemotherapy she had received to fight the disease had left her infertile.

  ‘Ordinarily I would suggest that your symptoms could be an indication of pregnancy,’ Hugh told her. ‘But obviously in your case it seems unlikely that you might have conceived. And of course pregnancy would be impossible if you haven’t had unprotected sex.’ Catching Sophie’s expression he murmured, ‘It would be an idea to do a pregnancy test so that we can rule it out completely.’

  She shrugged. ‘All right, but I’m certain the result will be negative. I had some tests a couple of years ago which showed that I wasn’t ovulating.’

  Sophie went into another room with a nurse to give a sample before returning to the doctor’s office where Hugh asked her some more questions about her general health. He paused to answer his phone, and his expression was serious when he ended the brief call.

  Sophie felt a frisson of fear. The nurse had also taken a blood sample to see if she was anaemic. She remembered that she had been found to have a low red blood cell count when her cancer had been diagnosed. Could there be a problem with her blood count? The idea made her feel sick with terror as memories of how wretched the chemotherapy had made her feel came flooding back. There had been a few occasions during her months of treatment when she had almost given up her fight for life. Now she wondered if she was mentally strong enough to battle cancer for a second time.

  Hugh Bryant gave a wry smile. ‘You should both be prepared for a shock,’ he said gently.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Nicolo demanded in a tense voice. To Sophie’s surprise he reached out and clasped her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, and she was grateful for his strength as Hugh spoke again.

  ‘The pregnancy test is positive.’

  For a few seconds the world tilted on its axis. The words made no sense. Sophie had mentally prepared herself for the likelihood that she would need further tests to see if she had cancer. It had not occurred to her that she might actually be pregnant.

  ‘It’s not possible,’ she said sharply at the same time as she heard Nicolo’s swiftly indrawn breath. ‘I was told that the chemotherapy had damaged my fertility and I would be unable to have children.’

  ‘It is not unheard of for women who stopped ovulating as a result of chemotherapy to resume ovulation several years later,’ Hugh explained. He smiled. ‘One thing I’ve learned during my medical career is that sometimes miracles happen.

  ‘Obviously the pregnancy is unplanned, and I expect you will both need some time to come to terms with what has happened,’ he said quietly. ‘Nicolo, I suggest you take Sophie home so that she can rest. You are clearly both in a state of shock.’

  Shock! Nicolo almost laughed at the understatement. He felt as if his lungs were being crushed in a vice and every last atom of oxygen was being squeezed out of his body. He glanced at Sophie’s white face and feared she was going to faint. It was obvious that she had believed she was unable to conceive. He should not have taken a risk, and should have waited until he had bought contraceptives before he’d had sex with her, he berated himself. But it was too late for blame now that Sophie was expecting his child.

  Trapped in a haze of numb disbelief, Sophie was barely aware of Nicolo guiding her out of the doctor’s office and out to the car. They were both silent on the journey back to her flat, and once inside she automatically walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  ‘Let me do that,’ Nicolo insisted. ‘I expect you want a cup of tea?’


  ‘No, I seem to have gone off tea….’ She blanched as the reason for her change in tastes suddenly made sense. Some of her friends had complained that they had disliked tea and coffee in the early months of pregnancy. ‘I’d like some warm blackcurrant cordial,’ she said dully.

  A few minutes later Nicolo set down a tray with their drinks on the dining table and glanced at Sophie, who was standing by the window. Her hair was scooped into a loose knot, revealing the fine bone structure of her face. She looked fragile and vulnerable, and as he watched her he felt a curious ache in his chest.

  ‘When I said last night that we needed talk, I had no idea how urgent our conversation would be—or its subject,’ he said drily.

  It was impossible to guess from his unfathomable expression what he was thinking, but Sophie wondered if he was angry. At least he had not asked if the child was his, she thought heavily. But even if he acknowledged responsibility for her pregnancy it did not follow that he planned to stick around. He had distanced himself from his father and the other members of his family, and nothing in his hard features indicated that he wanted his baby.

  She gave a bitter laugh. ‘It’s ironic—Richard broke up with me because he wanted children. You, on the other hand, are probably planning how quickly you can get out of my flat and away from me and our unplanned child.’

  Nicolo’s gut clenched as he heard the pain in her voice. ‘I’m not planning on going anywhere,’ he assured her.

  ‘You can’t tell me you’re not furious.’

  He shrugged. ‘I have no right to be angry. It was me who was careless.’

  She looked at him uncertainly, taken aback by his apparent acceptance of the situation. ‘How do you feel?’

  Nicolo guessed his feelings were similar to those of most men when they heard that they were going to be a father. Initial disbelief had given way to dizzying shock and a sense that he was as helpless as a worm on a hook that had been cast into a very deep ocean. But he also felt something that he could not define, a curious sense of inevitability. All his adult life he had rejected responsibility, but he could not, would not, reject his child.

  ‘What’s done is done,’ he said quietly. ‘Now we have to decide what we are going to do.’ He gave Sophie an intense look. ‘How do you feel about being pregnant?’

  His question threw her, and forced Sophie to examine her feelings.

  ‘I don’t know. I think I’m still in shock. When Hugh broke the news I was so relieved that I don’t have cancer that the implications of being pregnant didn’t really hit me,’ she admitted. ‘It doesn’t seem real. The tests I had a couple of years ago indicated that it was almost impossible for me to conceive.’

  She sighed. ‘I’d hoped to be able to tell Richard that there was a possibility I might be able to have a baby. But the tests showed that I wasn’t ovulating. There seemed no hope that I could be a mother, and it was only fair to tell Richard the truth. I hadn’t realised until then that having children was so important to him.’ She looked down at her tightly linked fingers. ‘I couldn’t blame him for ending our relationship, but it … it hurt to know that I wasn’t good enough for him, that I was … defective.’

  Once again the pain in her voice made Nicolo’s gut twist. ‘The guy was a jerk,’ he said curtly.

  Sophie swallowed. ‘I realise it’s a miracle I conceived and I know I should be over the moon but … I’m stunned. I never expected to have a child, and instead of having a family, I’d planned a different life of travel and adventure.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve booked to go on a hot-air balloon flight over the Serengeti next spring, but I won’t be able to go when I’m eight months pregnant.’

  Panic swept through Sophie and suddenly she could not hold back her emotions. ‘I feel trapped,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I don’t know how to be a mother. When I’ve visited my friends who have children I’ve wondered how they cope with a baby that cries all the time.’

  For Sophie, who prided herself on her efficiency and capability to deal with any work situation, the feeling that she would not be able to cope with the demands of motherhood was truly terrifying. For the first time since she was sixteen she burst into tears. ‘If you want the truth, Nicolo,’ she choked, ‘I’m scared.’

  As he watched Sophie’s face crumple Nicolo felt a dull ache in his heart. He had done this to her. He had caused this strong, beautiful woman to cry. He strode across the room and drew her into his arms.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she sobbed.

  For a split second, coldness invaded Nicolo’s heart as it occurred to him that perhaps she was considering not allowing the pregnancy to continue. Even more shocking was how much he cared. He had never thought about having a child, but the knowledge that his baby was developing inside her evoked a primitive protective instinct in him.

  ‘I’ll have to look for another job. Christos travels so much and I’ll need to settle in one place. And I’ll need to find somewhere else to live so that the baby can have its own room.’

  ‘Shh,’ he soothed, stroking her silky honey-gold hair as the tension left him. He was ashamed he had doubted her. After all she had been through, Sophie was understandably shocked to be pregnant, but he did not doubt that she would be a devoted mother. He thought of his own mother, who had left her children, who had abandoned him when he had needed her so desperately after the fire. Many years had passed since his mother had gone, but it still hurt and he would always miss her.

  He looked down at Sophie. She would never abandon her child. He knew it with a certainty that shook him. Seeing her crying evoked a fiercely protective instinct in him. Did she really think he would leave her to bring up their child alone?

  It was understandable that she doubted his commitment when she considered his track record, he acknowledged grimly. It occurred to Nicolo then that he needed to think very hard about what he could offer Sophie. His financial support was unquestionable, but their child needed more important things than money. Some of his old feelings of self-doubt returned. But he realised that for his child’s sake he must deal with the demons of his past once and for all and take control of his future.

  ‘I’m all right now.’ Sophie eased out of Nicolo’s arms and wiped her tears away with unsteady fingers. It had felt so good to rest her cheek against his chest and listen to the steady thud of his heart. For a few moments she had imagined what it would be like if they were a normal couple who were celebrating the news that they were expecting their first child. How wonderful it would be to feel protected and cherished by the father of her baby. Common sense kicked in and she stepped away from Nicolo, feeling embarrassed by her display of emotions.

  She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I guess I’m still in shock. But I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.

  Nicolo believed her. He knew that Sophie’s brief flash of weakness was only temporary and once she had got herself together she would manage perfectly well without him.

  ‘It’s only natural that you’re feeling emotional,’ he murmured. He scooped her into his arms, ignoring her startled gasp, and carried her through to the bedroom where he placed her on the bed and pulled the sheet over her. ‘I want you to know that you can rely on me, Sophie,’ he told her seriously. ‘I’m going to take care of you.’

  His beguiling words tugged on Sophie’s heart, but she reminded herself that Nicolo’s kindness was simply because he felt responsible for her. ‘I don’t need to be taken care of,’ she said stiffly. ‘The sickness should pass in the next few weeks and it’s perfectly all right for me to go to work as usual.’

  Nicolo ignored her protest, and Sophie’s eyes widened as she watched him open the wardrobe and take out her suitcase. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded as he proceeded to take clothes from the hangers and shove them into the case.

  ‘I’m packing some clothes for you to bring to Chatsfield House. You won’t be able to commute from Buckinghamshire to London every day, and the break from work will do you good.’ He leaned across th
e bed and slid his hand beneath her chin, tilting her face so that she was forced to meet his gaze.

  ‘We need to talk, Sophie, and work out how we are going to bring up our child.’

  ‘We are going to bring up our child?’ she said faintly. It had not occurred to her that he might want to be involved.

  ‘Our baby deserves to be loved and cared for by both of his or her parents, don’t you think?’ His warm breath whispered across Sophie’s lips and she hardly dared to breathe, wishing he would kiss her. She felt a sharp stab of disappointment when he straightened up and walked over to the door. ‘I’m going to make you some lunch, and then I’m going to take you home with me.’

  He hesitated in the doorway and turned to look at her, his expression guarded, hiding his thoughts. ‘Your pregnancy might be unplanned, but I promise I will take care of you and our child, Sophie.’

  His words sounded like a solemn vow but they chilled Sophie’s heart. The child inside her had been created during a passion-filled night that she and Nicolo had shared. But the next morning he had sent her away because he had not wanted a relationship with her. Now, because of the baby, he felt bound to her by duty, and it was that knowledge that caused tears to slip silently down her cheeks the instant he walked out of the room.

  Nicolo drove down the lane leading to Chatsfield House and cursed beneath his breath as the Jeep shook violently when one of the wheels hit a pothole. He vowed to himself that he would hire contractors to repair the road. He glanced at Sophie sitting in the passenger seat. She had slept for most of the journey to Buckinghamshire but now she opened her eyes and looked around as he steered through the tunnel of trees.