she was running a shower or bath he tried the door and discovered it was unlocked.
Where the hell was she? His stomach gave a sickening lurch of disappointment as it became clear that she had gone. His earlier good mood gave way to frustration. He couldn’t understand why she would take off without a word. Sergio raked his hand through his hair and dismissed an uncharacteristic flash of self-doubt. The sex had been as good for her as it had for him, of that he was certain. Just thinking about the little moans of pleasure she had made when she had come was having a predictable effect on his body.
But maybe, inconceivable though it was to him, she was shy and felt embarrassed that they had fallen into bed within minutes of seeing each other again. It hadn’t been something he had planned when he had invited her into his hotel suite, Sergio thought ruefully. But it wasn’t surprising when their passion for each other four years ago had been as scorching as a Sicilian summer. Now that Kristen had reappeared in his life he did not intend to let her go until his desire for her was utterly sated. And fortunately he would easily be able to find her. She was an employee at the hotel and her details would be on file.
Reassured that she could not slip away from him, he poured himself another glass of champagne and put a call through to the Hotel Royale’s manager requesting information on a waitress named Kristen Russell. Half an hour later, when it became clear that there had never been a woman of that name employed at the hotel, his ice-cold anger made the hapless manager more nervous than if he had given vent to his temper. And, after he had dismissed the man and was alone again, Sergio stared out at the London night sky with eyes that were hard and empty of emotion.
* * *
Monday morning brought rain and grey skies that ended the previous week’s promise that summer was on the way. The postman delivered a pile of bills which Kristen opened while she simultaneously ate a piece of toast, loaded the washing machine and packed Nico’s lunch box.
‘Do you want to take an apple or a banana to nursery?’ She sighed when he made no response. ‘Please choose, sweetheart. We must get going or I’ll be late for work.’
‘Don’t want to go to nursery.’ Nico’s bottom lip trembled ominously. ‘We can stay home today, Mummy.’
Kristen glanced at the clock and took a deep breath, determined to remain patient. It didn’t help matters that she was tired and the house was a mess after Steph and a few other friends had come over on Sunday evening and stayed until late. Steph had needed cheering up after she’d received her decree absolute, and had brought several bottles of wine with her—which had all been drunk.
She would have to take a trip to the bottle bank after work, Kristen thought ruefully. At least trying to help her friend had kept her mind from dwelling on what had happened when she had met Sergio on Friday evening. But memories of making love with him had kept her awake for most of last night and consequently she had a thumping headache.
‘Today is a work day for me and a nursery day for you,’ she explained gently to Nico. ‘You’d better put your Wellingtons on as it’s raining.’
It took another five minutes to persuade Nico into his coat and locate keys, her handbag and his backpack. The rain was falling harder, bouncing off the pavement and drumming loudly onto her umbrella as she clasped Nico’s hand and tried to hurry him along the street, but they had only gone a few paces when he stopped dead.
‘I don’t want to go.’ Two fat tears slid down Nico’s cheeks and as Kristen looked at his unhappy face she felt a clenching pain deep in her stomach that reminded her of the contractions she had felt when she had given birth to him. More than anything in the world she wished she could spend the day with him, but she couldn’t rely on a fairy godmother to pay the gas bill and the council tax demand.
‘Sweetheart, you know you have to go to nursery while I’m at work. I’ve got an early appointment and I can’t be late.’
Out of the corner of her eye Kristen caught sight of a sleek black saloon car driving past. It was noticeable because of the slow speed it was travelling and, for some inexplicable reason, she felt a tiny flicker of unease when she realised that the car’s heavily tinted windows hid the occupants from view. Her sense of trepidation increased as the car pulled into a parking space a little further up the road. Stop being paranoid, she ordered herself angrily. After her desperate flight from the Hotel Royale on Friday night her nerves had been on edge all weekend, but her fear that Sergio would find her had faded when she had reminded herself that he had no idea where she lived.
She was jerked from her thoughts as Nico tugged his hand free and ran back up the street. ‘Hey...where are you going?’ Kristen hurried after him and caught hold of him as he reached the garden gate.
‘I don’t want to go to nursery,’ he said mutinously.
Sensing a tantrum brewing, Kristen knew she had to regain control. ‘Well, I’m sorry but you are going,’ she told him firmly.
Nico began to cry loudly, his chest heaving with the force of his sobs, and as Kristen stood in the pouring rain, knowing that she was going to miss her train and would have to reschedule all her morning’s appointments, she felt like howling too. ‘That’s enough, Nico.’ Her voice sounded sharper than she had intended and guilt swamped her when he wept harder.
‘Kristen, what the hell is going on?’
Dear heaven! Her heart slammed against her ribs. She had believed she was safe, felt sure that she would never see Sergio again. But against the odds he had found her. Squaring her shoulders, she spun round to face her nemesis.
‘Why did you run away the other night?’
She could almost believe he sounded hurt, but she must have imagined it, Kristen told herself. She, better than anyone, knew that Sergio did not waste his time and energy on emotions. She tore her eyes from his, shaken and confused by the intensity of his gaze. It did not help her equilibrium that he looked gorgeous in a pale grey suit and navy silk shirt. Dark patches were forming on his jacket as he stood in the rain, and his hair was already soaked and fell forwards onto his brow.
‘How did you find me?’
His eyes narrowed at her cool tone and he raked a hand impatiently through his wet hair.
‘With considerable difficulty,’ he said tersely. ‘You lied to me, Kristen. You don’t work at the hotel.’
‘I never said I did. You just jumped to the conclusion that I was an employee.’ She flushed at his derisive look. Despite the protection of the umbrella, her long braided hair was damp and stray tendrils were stuck to her face. She shot Sergio a glance and quickly looked away again, hating her body’s involuntary response to him. ‘Look, I can’t stop. I’m late.’
‘You can’t stop! Dio, I haven’t come here for a chat!’ he exploded, and Kristen suddenly realised that beneath his icy control he was furious. ‘I take it you haven’t seen this morning’s headlines?’
She gave him a puzzled look. ‘No, I haven’t. Why?’
Instead of replying, he unbuttoned his jacket, pulled out a newspaper and thrust it at her. The headline, in bold print, seemed to leap off the page.
Billionaire Dumps Debutante for Domestic!
Kristen stared in horror at the photograph beneath the headline, which showed her leaning against Sergio, clinging to his shirt front and staring up at him like a love-sick idiot.
‘What on earth...?’ The picture had been taken when Sergio had chased after her to stop her fleeing from his party, she realised. She had stumbled on her stupid high heels and grabbed hold of him for support. Frantically she skimmed the newspaper article.
Sicilian love-rat Sergio Castellano has certainly lived up to his reputation as a serial playboy. Feathers flew when his fiancée and mistress both turned up at a party at the Hotel Royale. Felicity Denholm was said to be distraught when Sergio left the party to chase after the mystery blonde who is believed to be a waitress at the hotel.
‘Oh,