Father really ill. You are needed in New York. Call me.
He pulled on his shirt and walked out onto the beach as the pink hues of early morning were filling the sky. Standing looking out at the waves, he dialled and waited for it to connect. His sister’s relief was obvious, and he listened to the update on his father’s health. He turned to walk along the beach and looked up at the cabana. Imogen stood there, her black dress covering her body once more, a look of concern on her face. He ended the call and walked towards her. It was what they’d planned, what they’d both wanted, but he wasn’t ready yet to end the fantasy of the last week.
He didn’t want to go back to New York. He’d come here to escape from his mother’s revelation of who he really was, finally able to understand why he’d never fitted in with his family, why he’d never been able to please his father, no matter what he’d done.
But he couldn’t stay here. Imogen had her life, whatever that was, and he had his. It was time to end this. Time to return to reality and for him to face the harshness of it head-on.
‘Problems?’ Imogen’s voice was cautious, her hair ruffled and her mouth bruised, telling a story of their passion. Lust stabbed at him once more and he wrestled with the idea of taking her back to bed one last time.
‘My father is ill. I have to go back to New York immediately.’
She hugged her arms around her body as if she were cold, even though the heat of the day was already rising. ‘Then you should go.’
He picked up his jacket and put it around her shoulders, not missing the way she tensed. ‘I will take you back first.’
She looked at him, her eyes bluer than the ocean. ‘Thank you for a wonderful week of escape.’
He was taken aback. He was expecting something more along the lines of Call me. But this was just Imogen, the woman who had made it abundantly clear that nothing else would ever happen between them once they had left the paradise of this island behind. It was exactly what he wanted. They’d quenched their desire for each other and now it was time to go back to their real lives.
He kissed her gently on the forehead, forcing himself to follow her detached example. ‘Thank you.’ He wasn’t sure if it was for making a swift departure easier or for last night.
She pulled back from him, already creating distance. ‘We’d better get going.’
She didn’t say anything during their ride back to her villa, but once she’d stepped out of the small utility vehicle she turned to him. ‘I hope your father is okay.’
‘Thank you,’ he said curtly, not liking the intrusion his father was having on this moment.
Slowly she handed him his jacket. ‘Goodbye, Marco.’ Without another word she turned and walked away. He watched as she went into the villa, pausing at the door. She held his gaze across the expanding distance and smiled, before she went inside and closed the door, shutting him out of her life for good.
CHAPTER FOUR
Almost five months later
IMOGEN PLACED HER hand over the soft swell of her tummy and tried not to think of Marco, the man she’d escaped from reality with on the paradise island. The man who, as the father of her baby, had a right to know their week together had left a lasting legacy. For the last month, since she’d confided in Julie about the pregnancy, her friend had been wearing her down with her insistence that she find Marco.
She now accepted Julie was right, but knew also that the news would not be welcomed by Marco. He’d made it clear he wanted nothing more than their week of escape, something she had been more than happy to go along with. But now the man she knew only as Marco had to be found, and she had to tell him her news and prepare herself for his reaction.
Imogen pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind; her head was far too fuzzy and numb and she needed her wits about her today. After a lot of time off recently, claiming it to be a stomach bug instead of morning sickness, she had to be on top form, and trying to work out how to find Marco and give him the news about the baby wouldn’t help her do that. Especially not right now, when Bespoke Luxury Travel was due to sign up their newest account, Silviano Leisure Group. Imogen berated herself for not having done her usual pre-meeting research on the company or its CEO, the man they were about to meet. The jewel in their crown, Silviano Leisure Group was a global company with high-end luxury destinations, including the island Julie and Imogen had been sent to.
How could she tell anyone anything about the island when to her it had become her escape? The romance of the island had become the place she’d lived the dream of love and happy-ever-after for one week. It was the place she’d experienced the most magical night of her life with a man she knew only as Marco. A man she’d known even then she’d never see again.
She touched her tummy once more; the legacy of that week of fantasy had grown startlingly real with each passing day since she’d done first one pregnancy test then another. She’d refused to believe it was possible until the morning sickness had started. It was only a month ago she’d had the courage to confide in Julie, who’d been on a mission ever since to track down Marco. A task more difficult than it seemed when neither of them knew hardly anything about him.
‘Immy! Immy!’ Julie burst into her office and Imogen couldn’t decide if this was going to be good or bad news. She really didn’t want any of Julie’s well-meant but constant advice about finding Marco now. He’d made it clear their week would be just that. He hadn’t wanted anything more from her, just as she hadn’t from him. It should have been the perfect moment out of time, and it had been. The legacy of that moment, the baby she carried, was something she was finally beginning to come to terms with. He on the other hand could dismiss her claim as easily as he’d walked away that last morning.
‘I think you should sit down,’ Julie said, her breathing fast as if she’d just run up the two flights of stairs from Reception.
‘What is it this time?’ Imogen sat at her desk, hardly able to bring any energy into her words. Her mind was still reeling with all the implications of the situation she was now in. A single mother was not something she’d ever envisaged for herself, but she would get through it and shower her baby with so much love. And she had the support of her parents, a constant in her life.
‘I’ve found him.’ Julie’s words rushed out.
‘Who?’
‘Marco, of course.’
‘I haven’t got time for this now, Julie. Mr Silviano is due any moment. I haven’t done any preparation and we have a meeting to attend with him and our own CEO. This contract is big, Julie.’ Imogen got up and walked round to the front of her desk.
‘That’s just it. He’s here.’ Julie looked at her as if begging her to understand. ‘Marco is here.’
A sense of dread slipped down Imogen’s spine. Marco was here? Things just couldn’t get any worse. ‘Marco is here?’
‘Yes. You’ve only been and slept with the CEO of Silviano Leisure Group!’ Imogen could hardly think, let alone breathe, as Julie’s disbelieving words sank in.
‘Marco? From the island?’ Imogen whispered the words, as if it made it less real that way. ‘That can’t be right. You must have made a mistake.’
‘It’s no mistake, Immy. Marco, your Marco, is the CEO of Silviano Leisure Group. The father of your baby is New York billionaire businessman Marco Silviano.’
‘No, no, it can’t be.’ Imogen couldn’t think straight. He hadn’t once said during their week on the island that he owned it. She shook her head in silent denial as her mind rushed back to that last night, to the lengths he’d gone to in ensuring they were alone. A guest couldn’t have organised all that. Could he?
‘Immy, it is him. I’ve seen him myself.’ Julie clutched at her arm, imploring her to believe what she was saying.
‘What? You saw him?’ Imogen gasped as her heart began to pound. What would he think when he found out she wasn’t the socialite she�
��d led him to believe, that she was just a member of staff at Bespoke Leisure Travel and had been sent to the island so that she could personally recommend it to their clients?
‘Yes,’ Julie said, exasperation filling the word.
‘Did he see you?’ The tentative question slipped from Imogen’s lips as she tried to think how she was going to get out of this meeting. She couldn’t see Marco. Not only would he discover who she was but if he had even the smallest amount of observation skills he would see she was pregnant.
Would he even think the baby was his? They had used condoms that night, although he should remember there had been that one moment the last time they’d made love. Would he even consider that it could have resulted in a baby? She doubted it. He was the kind of man who took his pleasure where he could and then moved on. She’d been well aware of that, but it had only made the escapism all the more appealing. A girl like her had caught the attention of a man like him.
‘I can’t do this. I can’t see him.’ Imogen pulled at her ponytail, racking her mind for what to do. ‘Neither can you. If he recognises you then that’s it.’
‘You have to tell him about the baby, Immy.’
‘No, we were only having a brief fling. There is no way I can tell him now—here.’
Imogen turned and walked to the window of her office, looking out over postcard-pretty Oxford. She thought back to the telephone call Marco had made that last morning on the beach, claiming his father was ill. She’d been convinced it was a way to ensure she left quietly and without any clinging requests to see him again, and she had done just that with as much dignity as she could. It had hurt, but she’d accepted on the very first night that they could never really be together, that they were from two different worlds. Even that tender and passionate night, which had been the closest she’d ever felt to being loved, hadn’t made her want more. Now, knowing that night they had created a baby—their baby—she still didn’t have any illusions there would be declarations of love and happy-ever-afters.
This was reality.
Marco had stepped from the fantasy of her memories and was here in her world—her reality. ‘I can’t see him, Julie, and I can’t tell him.’
Her head began to thump as tension increased. Whatever was she going to do?
‘You have to see Marco, Immy,’ Julie said sympathetically as she came to stand next to her, both looking out over Oxford as if it held the solution to the problem. ‘You should tell him.’
‘What do I say?’ Anger filled Imogen now as the scenario rushed through her mind. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Silviano, and by the way, you are the father of my baby?’
* * *
‘That’s some introduction.’ Marco couldn’t understand how he’d kept his voice so calm when within the last few seconds he’d discovered not one, but two major revelations. He’d been in Reception and had been informed that Julie Masters and Imogen Fraser would see him shortly. The names had been like a slap in the face, then he’d seen Julie as she’d dashed back upstairs. He hadn’t waited but had followed her up and hadn’t missed a word of what Imogen had said.
The woman he’d shared a perfect week of escape with on his island hadn’t left his mind since and a search on the internet for socialites named Imogen living in London had drawn a blank. None of them was anything like the blonde he’d had the hottest night of his life with. He had no idea why he wanted to see her again, why he’d even tried to find her, other than that he still had the need to escape his family, to rediscover the solace her glorious body had brought him.
Now he’d stumbled across her in the most unexpected way and the amusement at catching Imogen and Julie talking as they’d looked out of the office window had swiftly been replaced by shock as Imogen had spoken her last words. It was far more than the fact that just Imogen, wasn’t the socialite she’d led him to believe. It was the shock that she claimed to be expecting a baby—his baby.
He thought back to their night of passion and the last time they’d enjoyed the pleasure of one another’s bodies, to the moment when the condom had let him down. Was it really possible those few seconds had been enough to create the child he’d never wanted but had been consistently reminded by his mother and father that he needed?
Imogen turned around very slowly, as if the action would make him vanish, and he raised his brow in expectation of an explanation. It might not be the news he’d wanted to hear, but if what she said was true he knew he would do what was expected of him. Not just for Imogen and the baby’s sake, but because it would be exactly what his grandfather would have wanted him to do. He’d always towed the line when his grandfather set the rules and, despite having lost him six years ago, he still liked to be guided by thoughts of his wisdom.
‘Is it true?’ Marco demanded, a little too hotly if the look on Imogen’s face was anything to go by.
‘Of course it is.’ Julie leapt to her friend’s defence, but he didn’t take his eyes from Imogen’s pale face. She still seemed incapable of saying anything.
‘I think, Julie,’ she finally managed in almost a whisper, her gaze locked defiantly with his, contradicting the weariness of her face, ‘I think this is between me and Marco.’
He stepped fully into the office and stood by the open door, waiting for Julie to leave them alone. This was not the meeting he’d come here for today. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that just Imogen and Imogen Fraser were one and the same. And he certainly hadn’t anticipated her startling revelation.
Julie glared at him as she left the office and he wouldn’t mind betting she’d love to give him a piece of her mind. As the door closed, somewhat noisily, behind her he watched as Imogen moved away from the shield the back of her desk chair had offered.
His attention was drawn to her stomach, to the way the buttons on the blouse were pulled tight over the swell of her tummy and the way the fabric strained across her now much fuller breasts.
He sighed and pressed his thumb to his chin, rubbing his fingers over the other side of his face, feeling the sharpness of new stubble. His week of escape had a permanent hold on him. A consequence there was no escaping from. He was going to be a father.
‘I’m sorry, Marco,’ Imogen said as she walked towards him, her chin lifting in determination with each step. ‘I didn’t want you to find out like this.’
‘So what were you going to do? Drop it casually into the agenda of the meeting?’
‘That’s not fair.’ She railed against his sarcasm. ‘I didn’t even know it was you until a few minutes ago!’
‘Didn’t know it was me?’ She wasn’t making much sense. Either that or his mind had gone to mush.
‘When we said goodbye on the island all I knew about you was that you lived in New York and your first name was Marco. I certainly didn’t know who the CEO of Silviano Leisure Group was.’ Her indignation showed as clearly as her desire had the night he’d kissed her on the beach before he’d taken her to the cabana for the hottest night of sex he’d ever had. ‘I had no reason to think the Marco I met on the island was Marco Silviano.’
She turned quickly from him, pressing her fingertips to her forehead and going to her desk chair, flopping down wearily in it. A spike of guilt at taunting her shot through him, swiftly followed by concern.
‘Are you okay?’ He went behind her desk, forcing her to look up at him as he stood at her side.
‘Perfectly,’ she snapped and picked up a file, hugging it against her breasts as if trying to conceal the shocking truth of the baby that grew inside her. ‘And for the record, I expect nothing from you. Nothing at all.’
‘Is that so?’ He leant back against her desk, his arms folded across his chest as he looked down at her. ‘And by nothing you mean that I should simply walk away and allow you to bring my child up alone?’
‘Precisely.’ She clutched the file tighter. Amusement filtered through him. Imogen Fra
ser was far more prickly than just Imogen, and for some reason, despite what he’d just learnt, he liked the challenge she now threw at him.
‘Where? Here in Oxford or at Daddy’s house in London?’ He couldn’t help but taunt her again, knowing full well why she’d gone along with Julie’s suggestion, and he was under no illusion just who it was who’d fabricated the whole story. ‘And what with? Daddy’s fortune?’
‘I’m perfectly capable of bringing up my baby.’ The response flew at him like a dart.
He took the file from her and placed it on the desk, his calm and slow movements silencing her protest. ‘My child will be brought up in New York.’
He had no idea where that had come from other than that it was what his grandfather would have expected him to do. When he’d walked in here this afternoon he hadn’t anticipated coming face to face with Imogen and most certainly not with the news that he was to be a father, the one thing he’d vowed he’d never be. A child was the last thing he wanted. However, the reality was different. A child was now exactly what he needed.
‘What? Why?’ Imogen hurled the words at him.
‘I wish to provide everything my child needs.’ Marriage and parenthood had never been on his agenda—he’d avoided them at all costs. Now Imogen, the only woman to have come close to crashing through his protective wall, was carrying his child. A son or daughter that would end his mother’s constant demands on him to provide an heir—and as much as it pained him to admit, Marco knew if the baby was a boy, he could satisfy his father’s old-fashioned views and prove himself worthy of his respect...his love.
* * *
Imogen shook her head, slowly at first, then faster. ‘How are you going to manage that? I have no intention of going to New York and you certainly can’t force me to.’
Panic raced through her, making her feel so dizzy she couldn’t stand up and face him. She might well have been in denial for the last few months, trying to avoid admitting that the wonderfully romantic night she’d spent in Marco’s arms had created a baby, but right now she felt incredibly protective of the new life inside her. A lasting legacy of one night of passion.
A Ring to Claim His Legacy Page 5
