With one of their quarry gone, the journalists crowded around Sergio. ‘Mr Castellano, do you want to make a statement?’
‘No, I damned well don’t,’ Sergio growled savagely. What he wanted to do was race after Kristen and find out what she was playing at. He had hardly been able to believe his eyes when he had looked across the ballroom and seen her, and one part of his mind had instantly registered that she was even lovelier than his memory of her.
Enzo, his PR man, appeared beside him and for once the usually unflappable manager looked shaken.
‘I think you should say something and explain the situation,’ Enzo advised in an undertone meant for Sergio’s hearing only. ‘Earl Denholm seems to think that you have humiliated his daughter by ending your engagement to her in public, and he’s threatening to call off the deal.’
‘Santa Madonna! There was no damned engagement. I assumed Felicity had made that clear to her father.’ Sergio’s nostrils flared as he struggled to control his temper. He had no wish to talk to the press, but if the deal with Denholm was about to blow up in his face he realised he had no choice.
He spun back round to the journalists, his face now expressionless as he controlled his anger. ‘There has been a misunderstanding. Miss Denholm and I are not engaged...’
A microphone was shoved at him. ‘Has she called it off because she found out about your mistress?’
‘Who is the mystery blonde who just left?’
‘Are you planning to marry the waitress?’
Sergio’s patience snapped. ‘I’m not planning to marry anyone—ever.’ He glanced at his PR man. ‘Enzo, I’ll leave you to deal with this—while I deal with the “mystery blonde”,’ he said with grim irony, and strode out of the function room.
CHAPTER TWO
WHERE THE HELL was she? Sergio stared up and down the empty corridor before turning left out of the function room. His instincts proved correct as he walked swiftly and turned a corner to see a petite blonde-haired figure at the far end of the passageway.
He was rarely surprised by anything, but tonight he had received a shock that was still causing his heart to thud unevenly. He had seen a ghost from his past, although Kristen Russell—for all her ethereal beauty—was no spectre from the spirit world. She was very real, albeit a woman now rather than the innocent girl he had known four years ago.
An unbidden memory came to him of the first time he had made love to her. It had been a new experience for both of them, he thought wryly. He had been shocked to discover she was a virgin. Before he had met her, and after their relationship had ended, his numerous affairs had been with women whose sexual experience matched his own. It was true that his affair with Kristen had been different from any of his previous relationships, but ultimately it had ended for the same reason his affairs always ended—she had wanted more from him than he could give. When she had left him, he had let her go, knowing there was no point trying to explain his bone-deep mistrust of emotional commitment.
Psychologists would no doubt blame his childhood and in particular his mother as a reason for his inability to connect with women on a deep level. Sergio’s mouth curved into a derisive smile. Maybe the shrinks were right. As a child he had taught himself to block out pain—both mental and physical—until nothing could hurt him. It was a trait he had continued as an adult and his freedom from emotional distractions gave him an edge over his business rivals and had earned him a reputation for ruthlessness in the boardroom.