Billionaire's Secret

by Chantelle Shaw

  Despite the heat of the sultry summer’s day, coldness invaded Nicolo’s heart. ‘If you move out of London you’ll have a longer commute,’ he said curtly.

  ‘That’s true.’ And public transport would be another expense to cover. Sophie’s brow pleated. ‘But I don’t see what else I can do.’

  Nicolo stared at the intricate design of box hedges that formed the knot garden. He remembered his mother had planted every shrub herself. She had poured her love into this garden and it seemed a fitting place for him to put his past behind him and look to the future.

  ‘You don’t have to work. There is an obvious solution that will enable us to both be part of our child’s life.’ He sensed the question hovering on Sophie’s lips and took a swift breath. ‘I think we should get married.’

  The silence seemed to bounce off the walls of the enclosed garden. Sophie ignored the painful lurch her heart gave and stared at Nicolo. He had not actually proposed to her, she reminded herself. He had simply suggested marriage out of a misguided belief that it would be in the best interest of their child.

  ‘A shotgun wedding is not an obvious solution as far as I’m concerned,’ she said tautly. ‘It’s a crazy idea.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be a shotgun wedding. And why is the idea of us marrying crazy?’

  ‘Why? Well—because …’ She shook her head. ‘Nicolo, when your parents got married I assume they were in love. They certainly looked happy in their wedding photo. But even though they loved each other, their marriage didn’t last. Neither did my parents’ relationship, despite the fact that they were madly in love when they married.’

  Nicolo was curious when he heard a tremor in her voice. ‘Why did your parents break up?’

  ‘For the same reason your parents did, I guess. My father had an affair.’ Sophie bit her lip as raw memories resurfaced. ‘It happened while I was ill. Mum spent a lot of time at the hospital with me while I was having chemo. My dad visited me, of course, but he had to carry on working full-time.’

  She sighed. ‘It must have been a very stressful time for both of them. Dad disliked going home to an empty house after work, and so he started taking his new secretary out to dinner. He said they were just friends to start with. But then he fell in love.’

  She turned towards Nicolo, her eyes blazing. ‘My father admitted that my illness had made him think about his own mortality. He realised that he hadn’t been happy with my mother, and he decided to seize his chance of happiness with his lover.’ She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You can’t imagine how I felt, knowing that my parents’ divorce and my mum’s unhappiness were my fault. If I hadn’t developed cancer, maybe Dad would have stayed with us. You’re not the only one to have a guilt complex,’ she said bleakly.

  ‘That’s ridiculous—you couldn’t help getting cancer.’ Nicolo heard the devastation in Sophie’s voice and he felt a strange sensation in his chest, as if his heart was being squeezed in a vice. ‘Perhaps your illness was a catalyst, but if your father was unhappy being married to your mother he would have left at some point.’

  Sophie sighed. ‘What I’m trying to say is that it would be a bad idea for us to get married because I’m pregnant when we don’t—’ she hesitated, suddenly afraid that she might give herself away ‘—have feelings for each other.’ She faltered. ‘If marriages between people who started out in love don’t last, what hope would there be for us? I believe it will be better for us to remain as friends rather than risk putting our child through the misery of us divorcing sometime in the future.’

  Nicolo frowned. ‘That’s a very negative attitude.’ In truth he was taken aback by her refusal. But when had Sophie ever acted as he expected her to do, as most other women would do? he thought wryly. He had been so focused on what a huge deal it was for him to offer to make a commitment to Sophie and his child that he hadn’t considered she might turn him down. She was not good for his ego, he thought self-derisively.

  ‘I’m being realistic.’ Resigned to the truth was perhaps a better explanation, Sophie thought dully. She did not want to marry a man who did not love her. So why was her heart longing to agree to Nicolo’s suggestion and hope that in time he would come to care for her?

  ‘I’m not convinced that marriage is really what you want,’ she said huskily. ‘You’re still haunted by your past. You shut yourself away from the outside world. More importantly, you shut yourself off from people who care about you—your family. Your inability to forgive yourself for events that happened years ago will eventually make you cold and bitter. How can I believe that you will love our child when I’ve seen no evidence that you are capable of love?’

  ‘Dio, Sophie!’ Nicolo jerked to his feet. ‘That’s unfair. Of course I will love our child.’ He stared in frustration at her disbelieving expression. ‘I am not the person I once was. I admit I was so bound up in my guilt that I could not look to the future. But I’ve changed. You changed me.’ His voice deepened. ‘You helped me to see myself differently.’

  He hesitated. ‘It’s not true to say that I shut myself off from the outside world.’

  He wanted to tell Sophie about the financial support he had given to the Michael Morris Burns Support Foundation for the past eight years, and his recent decision to become the public figurehead of the charity. But a glance at his watch told him that he did not have time to talk to her properly now. It was important that he arrived in London in time for the press conference to explain about the work and aims of the burns charity.

  The conversation with Sophie would have to wait until he came back tomorrow. Perhaps then he would be able to show her that he had changed from the surly man who had thrown her out of Chatsfield House when she had first arrived. He might even be able to convince her that he would be a devoted father and a good husband—something he had clearly failed to do so far, Nicolo thought heavily.

  ‘Do you remember I mentioned that I might have to go to London for a meeting?’ he murmured. ‘The meeting is today. I’ve arranged to stay in town tonight and I’ll come back in the morning. We’ll talk more then.’ He looked at Sophie’s tense face and felt a strong urge to cancel his plans and stay with her. But everything was set up for the press conference and he hoped the publicity would generate vital support for the charity.

  ‘Will you be all right? George and Joan have gone to visit their daughter for a couple of days and you’ll be here on your own.’

  Sophie gave a listless shrug as she watched Nicolo check the time again. He was obviously impatient to get away from her. He had not tried to persuade her to marry him and he was probably relieved that she had turned him down.

  ‘I’ll have Dorcha with me.’ She glanced at the wolfhound sprawled on the grass at her feet. ‘He would terrify any intruders.’

  ‘He didn’t scare you,’ Nicolo said drily. He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that held both passion and a tenderness that made Sophie’s heart ache. She could not define the expression in his eyes when he said softly, ‘I quickly discovered that you are unique, Sophie. I’ve never met anyone like you before.’

  * * *

  Hours later, Sophie still could not decide whether Nicolo’s parting remark had been a compliment or criticism. What did it matter? she thought wearily. He did not love her and that was all that mattered. It was the reason she had refused to marry him.

  It was hot and humid in the garden and not much cooler inside the house. The weather forecast predicted storms, and from the look of the ominous purple clouds gathering on the hills like a mustering army, it seemed that the late-summer heatwave was about to break.

  Sophie felt too churned up to want to eat, but she reminded herself that she had a duty to feed the baby growing inside her and made herself a cheese salad. Duty was such a passionless word, she mused. Nicolo clearly believed it was his duty to offer to marry her. She wondered if he would still be prepared to support her and their child, or whether the fact that she had turned him down meant he no longer felt it was neces
sary to stand by her.

  No, he would not abandon her, she thought with fierce certainty. Nicolo was an honourable man, and having been abandoned by his mother when he had been a boy Sophie was convinced he would not walk away from his own child. When he returned tomorrow they would have to start making plans about where their child would live, and where he or she would spend birthdays and Christmases. Her heart sank as she recalled the last, uncomfortable Christmas she had spent with her father and his new family.

  Her hand crept to her stomach, and for the first time since she had discovered she was pregnant she imagined the baby as a little person. Was passing the child between her and Nicolo like a parcel the best they could do? But was the alternative of a loveless marriage any better? she wondered dully.

  Desperate to find something to occupy her thoughts, she switched on the TV to catch the evening news programme.

  Nicolo was overwhelmed by memories as he walked across the foyer of the Chatsfield Hotel. He had not been back here since the fire nineteen years ago, but the hotel felt as familiar as he remembered from his childhood. It was true the decor had been updated but the ambiance of luxury and exclusivity created by the Italian marble floors and ornate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling was pure Chatsfield style.

  When he stepped into the lift, the Chatsfield signature scent diffused through the air conditioning sent his mind hurtling back in time. As the lift rose towards the top floor and the penthouse suite Nicolo felt his tension increase. The last time he had made this journey he had been a teenage boy intent on mischief. He could not have known that on that fateful night his life and the life of a young chambermaid would change for ever.

  His thoughts turned to the visit he had paid Marissa Bisek after the press conference. He had not dared try to imagine how she would react to his confession that he had been responsible for the fire in which they had both nearly died but his conscience had decided that he must tell Marissa the truth.

  She had been pleased to see him, and welcomed him into her home. Looking at her scarred face, Nicolo had told himself he could not blame her if she hated him once she had learned the truth, but to his shock Marissa had hugged him and insisted that she had nothing to forgive him for. He had saved her life, and she would always be grateful to him. If it had not been for his bravery, she’d said, she would not have seen her youngest son, who had been a baby at the time of the fire, graduate from university. Marissa also revealed that she was about to get married to a wonderful man who loved her and did not care about her scars.

  ‘I am so happy with my life,’ she told Nicolo. ‘I hope you can put the past behind you and find happiness and love.’

  Her words had lifted a great weight from Nicolo’s shoulders. Like Sophie, Marissa appreciated how precious life was and had chosen to live every day to the full. Nicolo felt humbled by the strength of both women. He had searched his soul and acknowledged that Sophie had been right when she’d said that he must stop punishing himself for what he had done in the past and should embrace the future.

  Her advice was even more important now that his future included being a father to their child. But before he could move forward he knew he had to confront his father about Gene’s infidelity that Nicolo was certain had been the reason his mother had abandoned the Chatsfield family.

  It took all his nerve to enter the penthouse which had been the scene of such terror and pain when he had been a boy. His father stood up from the sofa and greeted him with a hesitant smile. Gene had sounded surprised when he had phoned earlier to ask if he could visit. As Nicolo walked towards his father he was struck by the fact that Gene was an elderly man. He was still a charismatic figure and his eyes were a bright, piercing blue, but his hair was silver and he stooped slightly as he stepped forward.

  ‘Nicolo.’ Gene held his arms out. ‘I saw your press conference. I had no idea that you had set up a charity to help burns victims. Why have you kept your work as a fundraiser secret until now?’ He placed his hands on Nicolo’s shoulders. ‘I am so proud of you, as are the rest of the family.’ His voice became husky. ‘Your mother would have been proud too, my son.’

  Santa Madre! Nicolo felt choked with emotion. He had come here to demand answers from his father. He had planned to reveal how he had seen Gene in bed with a young maid in the penthouse all those years ago, and how angry and betrayed he had felt by his father’s behaviour. But Sophie’s words flashed into his mind.

  The past is history. Maybe it’s time you forgave your father.

  Maybe his forgiveness was long overdue, Nicolo acknowledged. He did not know what happened between his parents. As a boy he had blamed his father for driving his mother away, but as an adult he understood that relationships were complex and love was fragile and needed to be nurtured by both partners.

  Swallowing hard, Nicolo stepped into his father’s embrace and hugged the elderly man. ‘Papa,’ he said softly, ‘I have something to tell you. In a few months’ time you are going to be a grandfather.’

  * * *

  At Chatsfield House Sophie watched the news programme with a heavy heart. She was about to change channels when a familiar face flashed onto the screen.

  She tensed with shock. What on earth was Nicolo doing on TV?

  He seemed to be giving a press conference, and he looked gorgeous, Sophie thought numbly as she stared at his image. Wearing a charcoal-grey suit and light blue shirt, it was easy to believe he was a billionaire financier, but his rugged features and overlong hair still reminded her of a highwayman.

  Nicolo looked into the camera as he spoke.

  ‘I established the Michael Morris Burns Support Foundation with the help of Michael’s sister, Beth Doyle. For the past eight years, Beth has filled the role of chief executive of the foundation, and she has worked incredibly hard to heighten public awareness of the vital help that the charity gives to burns victims. However, Beth has decided to step down as head of the foundation so that she can concentrate on her family,’ Nicolo explained. ‘I will now combine my role as fundraising director with the duties of CEO, and oversee the running of every aspect of the charity. I will continue to work tirelessly for the foundation, and I look forward to my role as public figurehead of the charity.’

  Sophie continued to stare at the screen long after Nicolo’s image had been replaced by a chirpy woman giving the weather forecast. He was the new public figurehead of a charity! Guilt swept through her when she remembered how she had accused him of shutting himself away from the outside world. Nothing could be further from the truth. She had also accused him of being haunted by his past, but it was clear that he was determined to use his experience to help other burns victims. Even his career as a financial trader was not to earn money for himself but for the charity where he had been a fundraising director for the past eight years.

  Why hadn’t he told her about his charity work? Sophie grimaced. Obviously he had not felt comfortable to talk to her about his role within the burns foundation. He was an intensely private man, but it hurt that he had excluded her from something that was so important to him.

  She felt ashamed that she had judged him so harshly. He had told her he had changed, but she hadn’t believed him, and she hadn’t given him a chance. And why was that? Sophie remorselessly questioned herself. The answer shamed her even more. She had wanted him to say that he loved her, and when he hadn’t she had been coldly dismissive because she had wanted to hurt him for unwittingly breaking her heart.

  Right at that moment Sophie did not like herself very much. She went to bed with a heavy heart, hoping for the oblivion of sleep, but after an hour of tossing and turning she selected some music, put her earphones in and lay back down, sternly telling herself that crying all night would not do her or the baby any good.

  The storm broke as Nicolo drove along the motorway on his way back to Buckinghamshire late at night. In the distance he saw several jagged flashes of lightning, and the growl of thunder even drowned out the engine noise made by his
battered old Jeep. When the baby was born he would have to buy a newer car, he decided.

  It was not raining yet, and because the Jeep did not have air conditioning the sultry air was stifling. Nicolo pressed his foot down on the accelerator as he thought of Sophie alone at Chatsfield House. Not that she would be afraid of a storm, he acknowledged. Sophie was as brave as a lioness—and unfortunately as stubborn as a mule. He should have known that persuading her to marry him would not be an easy task, but he had hoped she would agree for the baby’s sake.

  He had used her pregnancy as an excuse, he acknowledged. ‘Have you actually told Sophie how you feel?’ Beth had asked him when he had phoned her after the press conference.

  ‘Not in so many words,’ he had admitted. He did not feel comfortable talking about his feelings.

  ‘Perhaps you should try,’ Beth had advised gently. ‘You don’t have to use many words. Three little ones will probably be sufficient.’

  Nicolo knew he must overcome the demons that that still tormented him and his fear of being rejected, because of his mother. A nerve flickered in his cheek as he thought of the women he had met in his wild years who had been repulsed by his scars. He had laughed off the looks of horror in their eyes, and their pity. But deep down, he had been wounded.

  The beast had retreated to his lair, until one day Beauty had trespassed on his home, and very soon on his heart. But that was where reality differed from the fairy tale. He and Sophie were not going to live happily ever after. She did not want to marry him and insisted that she was perfectly capable of bringing up their child on her own.

  His jaw clenched. There had been a few occasions during the time they had been living together when he had caught her looking at him with an expression in her eyes that had made him wonder….

  The only thing he could do was be honest about his feelings. But laying himself open to rejection was not easy for a man who had suppressed his emotions for almost two decades.