‘You shouldn’t encourage him to go off with a stranger,’ she said sharply as she walked quickly along the pavement to the waiting car. ‘He doesn’t know you. I don’t want him to think it is okay to get into a stranger’s car.’
Sergio’s eyes glittered. ‘It is not my fault he doesn’t know me. But that unfortunate situation will not continue and he will soon know me very well.’
Something in his tone caused a hard knot of dread to settle in Kristen’s chest. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that I want to be involved in my son’s life. Dio,’ he growled when she made a choked sound, ‘I have just discovered that I am his father. Did you expect me to simply walk away from him? Boys need their fathers,’ he added in a curiously driven voice.
‘At his age, Nico needs his mother more than anyone else,’ Kristen said desperately.
‘A mother who dumps him in a nursery all day.’ Sergio’s tone was scathing. ‘A three-year-old child requires more parental attention than you are giving him.’
Kristen reeled as if he had physically struck her. ‘Nico is my world and I would willingly give my life for him. How dare you say that I don’t give him enough attention?’ Her voice trembled with anger at the accusation. Yet it was true that only three days ago she had decided she needed to spend more time with her little boy to help him get over the death of his grandmother, her conscience reminded her.
Nico’s voice dragged her from her thoughts. Sergio’s driver had lifted him onto the booster seat in the back of the car and secured the seat belt around him, but now there was a tiny quiver of uncertainty in Nico’s voice as he said, ‘Are you coming, Mummy?’
‘Of course I’m coming with you.’ Tearing her eyes from Sergio’s impenetrable gaze, Kristen handed his driver her umbrella and climbed into the car. To her dismay, Sergio slid in next to her instead of walking round to the other passenger door. His wet clothes were moulded to his body and Kristen could feel his hard thighs pressed against her through his rain-soaked trousers. He smelled of rain and expensive cologne, and the combination was so intensely sensual that her heart-rate quickened.
Heat pooled low in her pelvis and she instinctively lifted her hand to her throat to hide the urgent thud of her pulse just as Sergio turned his head towards her. His brows lifted mockingly and she flushed, aware that he had understood the reason for her betraying gesture. She had never been able to disguise her fierce awareness of him, she acknowledged bleakly.
Four years ago she had fallen for him so hard that nothing else had seemed important, not even her gymnastics training and the goal of winning a world championship title that had been her dream since childhood. When she had met Sergio she had dreamed instead of marriage, children, the whole happy-ever-after scenario. But the dream had ended when she had lost their child.
‘Perhaps it is for the best.’ Even now the memory of Sergio’s words had the power to hurt her. After she had lost their baby, she had been distraught. But he had paced around the hospital room and avoided making eye contact with her. His words had ripped her emotions to shreds as much as the agonising stomach cramps that had torn through her body during the miscarriage. The knowledge that he had not wanted their child had made her realise what a fool she had been to believe in fairy tales.
* * *
While Kristen gave the driver directions to the nursery, Sergio leaned his head against the back of the seat, conscious that his wet clothes were sticking to the car’s leather upholstery. But he did not give a damn that he could wring the water from his bespoke silk shirt or that his hand-stitched leather shoes made by the finest Italian craftsmen were probably ruined. Everything else faded to insignificance compared to the discovery that he had a son.