Sergio watched Nico playing. ‘But we did create a new life after all,’ he said so softly that Kristen only just caught his words. ‘I still can’t quite believe that this beautiful little boy is my son.’
She bit her lip. ‘I often think about the other baby, and I wonder what Nico’s brother or sister would have been like. I feel so lucky to have him, but I mourn for his twin and, although it’s selfish, I wish I could have had them both.’ She glanced at Sergio. ‘I’ve heard that the bond between twins is unique. Do you feel especially close to your twin brother?’
He shrugged. ‘I did not grow up with Salvatore, and when we met again after being separated for many years we did not have a close relationship.’
She gave him a startled look. ‘Why didn’t you grow up together?’
‘My parents split up when Salvatore and I were five years old. My mother returned to her native New York and she took me with her.’
Kristen frowned. ‘It seems a strange decision to have separated you from your brother. You told me that your parents had divorced when you were young, but I assumed that you and Salvatore grew up in Sicily with your father.’
‘I did not discover until I was much older that my father had been awarded custody of both of us,’ he told her emotionlessly. ‘My mother snatched me and took me to America. My father tried to get me back but...’ He broke off and shrugged.
How hard had Tito really fought for his return? Sergio brooded. Surely in the ten years that he had lived in the US his father could have done more to force his mother to allow him to return to Sicily? The thought was a poison that continually festered in his mind. The only answer as far as he could see was that Tito had not loved him as much as he had loved Salvatore.
‘I suppose she couldn’t bear to lose both of her children.’ Privately, Kristen wondered how Sergio’s mother could have taken him away from his brother and broken the special bond between the twin boys.
Sergio’s expression became sardonic. ‘The only reason she took me was to get at my father. Their relationship was a constant power struggle both before and after they divorced. Patti didn’t actually want me. She was busy pursuing an acting career and having a child around was hugely inconvenient.’
Kristen was startled by the bitterness in his voice. ‘I’m sure she didn’t think that,’ she murmured, not knowing what else to say. The coldness in his eyes sent a shiver through her. Four years ago she had thought she had known him, but clearly there were secrets in his past that might explain why he kept such a tight rein on his emotions.
She glanced at her watch and jumped to her feet. ‘I must take Nico home. He needs his dinner and a bath before bed.’
‘He’s already eaten. I asked the chef to prepare him grilled chicken and vegetables and he ate most of his dinner.’ Sergio gave her a piercing glance. ‘He looks too thin and I am concerned that he is underweight. I think he should be checked over by a doctor.’
‘He has been off his food recently,’ Kristen admitted, ‘but he’s perfectly healthy.’
‘Nevertheless, I have made an appointment for him to see a top paediatrician in Harley Street tomorrow morning.’
‘There’s no need.’ Her temper simmered at his implication that she didn’t take enough care of her son but, faced with Sergio’s implacable expression, Kristen swallowed her irritation. It was pointless to argue over a minor issue when the vital question of who would have custody of Nico was yet to be resolved.
‘As for tonight,’ Sergio continued, ‘he can stay here at the hotel. I have already had the second bedroom in my suite prepared for him.’
A tight knot of tension formed in Kristen’s stomach when she realised that she was not included in the invitation. ‘I’m not going to leave Nico with you.’
‘Why not? I am his father.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Dio, is one night, when you have had him to yourself for the past three years, too much to ask for?’
‘Mummy, where’s Hippo?’
Nico’s voice cut through the simmering atmosphere and Kristen tore her eyes from Sergio’s angry face and focused on her son.
‘He’s at home, sweetheart. Would you like to go and find him?’
Relief washed over her when Nico nodded. She could tell that he was tired, and when he climbed onto her lap and put his head on her shoulder she cuddled him. He was her baby and she would fight to the death for him. She glanced at Sergio and flushed at the sardonic expression in his eyes.
‘Hippo is his favourite toy,’ she explained. ‘He takes it to bed with him every night.’
‘In that case I’d better drive you both home,’ he said coolly. ‘I don’t want to upset Nico. But I warn you, cara,’ he added in a dangerously soft voice, ‘don’t try to play games with me.’
* * *
When Sergio parked outside Kristen’s small terraced house she noticed, as he no doubt did, that the front door badly needed a coat of paint. It was one of many jobs that she never had time to do, she thought with a sigh. Walking into the house, she was horribly conscious that the wallpaper in the hallway was peeling. Decorating was another job on the to-do list that lack of time and her tight budget did not stretch to. Since her mum had died she had been getting by, surviving, but not really living, she acknowledged. Grief had sapped her energy and dulled her spirit and it was a bitter irony that seeing Sergio again had made her feel more alive than she had done in months.
Sergio followed her into the kitchen and she saw him frown at the sight of the empty wine bottles on the table. The clothes rack was draped with her underwear and the sink was full of dirty dishes that she hadn’t had time to wash up in the rush to get out that morning. Fortunately the living room was reasonably tidy, although shabby, Kristen acknowledged. It was funny how she had never noticed how worn the carpet was until now, and the red wine stain—courtesy of Steph spilling her drink the previous evening—added to the room’s neglected air.
Sergio had carried Nico in from the car, and Kristen felt a tug of possessiveness at the sight of the little boy resting his dark curls on his father’s shoulder. He was her baby.
‘I’ll take him straight up for his bath. I expect you want to get back to the hotel.’
‘I’m not in any rush.’ Sergio’s jaw tightened at her unsubtle attempt to dismiss him. ‘We need to talk.’
Had four words ever sounded so ominous? Kristen watched Sergio glance disparagingly around the room. It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that, unlike him, she could not afford to buy a luxury mansion in Mayfair, which the newspaper had reported he was currently purchasing, but she thought better of it and led Nico up the stairs.
Left alone in the dismal sitting room, Sergio recalled the empty wine bottles in the kitchen and almost gave in to the urge to chase after his son, snatch him into his arms and take him to Sicily immediately. The house was in dire need of renovation, and it was apparent that Kristen had had a party recently—unless she had drunk several bottles of wine herself.
He grimaced. His mother had preferred gin and, even though it was years since his childhood, he couldn’t bear the smell of it. Patti’s temperament had been unpredictable at the best of times and alcohol had made her either maudlin or cruel. Unfortunately there had been no way of telling what mood she would be in and, as a small boy not much older than Nico, Sergio had felt constantly on edge, fearful of angering his mother and provoking her violent temper.
A loud scream dragged him from his thoughts. The sound of a child’s hysterical sobs chilled Sergio’s blood and he took the stairs two at a time and burst into the bathroom to find Nico—not being beaten,