Nico’s baseball cap hid his face but, as Sergio continued to stare, she gripped her son’s hand.
‘Is he your child?’ There was a curious note in his voice she could not define.
Kristen swallowed. ‘Yes.’ She tried to step past Sergio and her tension escalated when he did not move out of her way. ‘Please excuse us. I need to get him to nursery.’
‘So are you married? You have a different surname, which is one reason why it took me forty-eight hours to find you,’ he revealed with an edge of impatience. ‘I was searching for Kristen Russell, but your name now is Lloyd. Is that the name of your child’s father?’
Nico had been standing silently, his gaze fixed curiously on the stranger. But, perhaps conscious of Sergio’s scrutiny, he suddenly pulled off his cap and held it out to him. ‘My hat’s got Bertie Bear on it—see?’ he said innocently.
The ensuing silence only lasted for a few seconds, but to Kristen it seemed as though time was suspended and it was a lifetime before Sergio reacted.
‘Santa Madonna!’ His breath hissed between his teeth and he jerked his head back as if he had been slapped. He flicked his eyes to Kristen’s white face and then back to the child by her side. ‘It’s not possible,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You lost the baby. I was with you at the hospital when you had the miscarriage.’
KRISTEN DID NOT reply—could not, when there was no oxygen in her lungs—but she held Nico’s hand tighter as Sergio crouched down so that he could study the little boy’s face.
‘He is my son.’
It was a statement, not a question, and there was a note of awed wonder in his voice that made Kristen’s stomach clench. She had felt the same sense of amazement when she had looked at her son for the first time minutes after she had given birth to him. But she was startled by the raw emotion when Sergio spoke. She did not understand his reaction. It had been obvious when she had suffered the miscarriage that he had not shared her devastation, and in fact had been relieved that she was no longer carrying his child.
There was no point in denying the truth, yet Kristen hesitated. Three days ago she had made the decision to tell Sergio he had a child, so why did she now feel such trepidation and an urge to snatch Nico into her arms? She forced her throat to work and whispered, ‘Yes, he’s yours.’
Sergio straightened up and growled something ugly in a low tone meant for Kristen’s ears only. ‘I don’t understand. You were bleeding when I rushed you to the hospital.’
His words brought back painful memories of that terrible day. She had felt so scared, Kristen remembered. She had not known she was pregnant until a doctor at the hospital explained that she had lost the baby, but she had been overwhelmed with sadness and guilt that perhaps the miscarriage had somehow been her fault.
She bit her lip. ‘When I had the miscarriage I lost Nico’s twin. But at the time I was unaware that I was carrying two babies,’ she explained shakily. ‘I only found out I was still pregnant after I returned to England.’
‘But you didn’t think to tell me?’ Sergio’s expression was coldly contemptuous. His barely controlled anger sparked Kristen’s temper and helped to lessen the feeling of guilt churning inside her.
‘I did think of letting you know but, before I could contact you, I saw the announcement of your engagement to a woman in Sicily. I read about your engagement in a magazine at my doctor’s surgery, but the magazine was a few weeks out of date,’ she explained shakily. ‘By the time I read the article I realised that you must already be married and...and I guessed you would not welcome the news that I was expecting your illegitimate child.’
Sergio’s jaw clenched. His skin was drawn so tight over the bones of his face that his cheekbones were sharply prominent.
‘He is my child,’ he said hoarsely. ‘What right did you have to keep him a secret from me?’
‘You had married someone else!’
Kristen felt Nico give a start at the sound of her raised voice and she silently cursed herself. She gave him a reassuring smile and replaced his cap on his head to protect him from the rain.
‘I can’t talk now,’ she muttered to Sergio. ‘Nico is getting soaked, and I don’t want him to spend all day at nursery school in damp clothes.’
Nico’s bottom lip trembled. ‘Mummy, I don’t want to go.’
Somehow she managed to keep her voice calm. ‘Sweetheart, we’ve been through this and I’ve explained that you have to go today.’ Her heart sank when Nico started to cry again, and she tensed when Sergio stepped closer to prevent her from walking away from him.
‘Surely he’s too young to go to school? He can only be a couple of months over three years old.’
‘He was three in March. He doesn’t go to school yet, but he attends a day-care nursery.’
‘Which he clearly doesn’t enjoy,’ Sergio said tautly. ‘Does he cry like this every day?’
Kristen stiffened at the note of censure in his voice. ‘He loves it once he’s there,’ she said defensively. ‘It’s just the thought of going that upsets him.’
‘Then why send him?’
‘Because I have to work.’ She lifted her chin and met Sergio’s unreadable gaze, her own faintly challenging. ‘Bringing up a child is expensive.’
‘If I had known you were pregnant, naturally I would have supported you and my son.’
‘How would you have done? Would you have told your wife about your illegitimate child?’
Kristen could not hide the bitterness in her voice. They were going round and round in circles, she thought wearily. ‘This is a pointless conversation. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re soaked to the skin.’ She tore her eyes from the front of his shirt, which was now so wet that she could clearly see the delineation of his six-pack beneath the navy silk. ‘I’m late for work, and Nico should be at nursery, so please move out of the way and allow us to pass.’
Sergio’s cold eyes flashed with sudden fire as his hand shot out and fastened like a band of steel around her wrist. ‘Don’t you dare dismiss me,’ he said savagely. ‘This conversation is far from over.’
He glanced at Nico and must have realised that his aggression was scaring the little boy for he said in a softer voice, ‘I’ll drive you to his nursery and then to your workplace. Where do you work, anyway? Your name wasn’t on the list of staff at the Hotel Royale, so why were you working as a waitress there the other night?’
Kristen flushed. ‘It was a misunderstanding. I’m not a waitress...I’m a physiotherapist.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Then what were you doing at my party?’
‘Can we talk about it another time?’ she said desperately. Now was not the moment to admit that she had intended to ask him for a financial contribution for Nico.
‘You
