Автор: Rachel Bailey
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408922750
isbn:
He pulled on his jacket in the elevator down to the underground car park. When the doors opened, he strode over to the Alfa and thumbed the keyless lock. After sliding into the driver’s seat, he began tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. How long would she take? Maybe she’d string out getting dressed to make him wait. To take back control. The old Beth wouldn’t have done that.…
His stomach dropped as he amended the thought—the person he’d thought she was wouldn’t have done that. How much of the persona she’d shown him had been real and how much fabricated? The question had tormented him to the brink of madness when she’d first left, but he’d buried it so deep that the only times he’d allowed himself to ruminate over it was when he woke in the early hours of the morning after dreaming of her.…
The elevator pinged its arrival and annoyingly, his pulse spiked. If that was her, she would have done little more than slip on her clothes before following him. The doors slid open to reveal Beth in the peach gown she’d worn the night before, her hair not brushed. Desire stirred at her just-from-bed look, but he suppressed it. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by lust now.
She walked toward the car, her heart-shaped face expressionless, as if she’d erected a wall of protection around herself as effectively as he’d done only minutes earlier. She sat in the passenger seat, head regally tilted, refusing to make eye contact with him.
Good. His hands tightened on the wheel before he turned the key and the car roared to life. He didn’t want small talk, either.
They traveled the short distance to her house in complete silence, the mood inside his car icier than the cold winter morning outside. The town was quiet this early on a Sunday morning, but he supposed it was never as busy as any place he’d lived. Its lines of suburban houses were modest, yet charming in their leafy streets. They passed a small school with murals of laughing children painted down one side. Was that where his nephew would go to class? He pressed his lips together. Another of his agendas for this trip. He wasn’t leaving until he’d met the child.
In coming to New Zealand, he’d intended meeting his nephew, and this time neither Beth nor Kent would stand in his way as they had done since Mark’s birth. The boy deserved to know his family, and as soon as Nico made contact, he’d ensure the next step happened quickly—his father, Tim, would meet his only grandchild as he longed to do. Nico would do anything for his father.
He pulled into the edge of the winery estate where Beth lived, then down her tree-lined driveway. When he reached the house, he left the car idling. He had a pithy exit line ready, but his attention was caught by another car and an older couple at Beth’s front door. He recognized her parents immediately, as they waved across to his car. Beth had said Mark was with them this weekend, which meant the boy was probably inside the house this minute. Triumph surged.
Finally.
He cut the engine, got out and made his way over to the older couple, Beth rushing behind him.
Too late to keep him from meeting his nephew now.
He held out his hand to her father. “Mr. Jackson.”
Her father didn’t move as he took in Beth’s disheveled appearance, then turned to Nico, his face a picture of rage and disapproval. “So you’ve come sniffing around again.”
Nico withdrew his hand, realizing a moment too late that he was dropping this man’s daughter home after having obviously loved her all night. Any father would be prickly. Nico squared his shoulders. “I want you to know—”
Her father’s stance was rigid as he cut Nico’s words off. “You abandoned our daughter when she—”
Tucking stands of mussed hair behind her ears, Beth inserted herself between them and grabbed her father’s hand. “Dad, Nico was just leaving. We don’t want to hold him up.”
She glared at Nico—which was obviously supposed to be his cue to leave. Nico looked from daughter to father. There was something missing here.
Mrs. Jackson looked flustered. “We just dropped in for Mark’s spaceship. It’s his favorite and he forgot to bring it for the weekend.”
“Nico,” Beth said, eyes determined, “don’t let us hold you up. I’m sure you have a million things to do at the winery before you leave.”
He held her gaze and found something deeper behind her determination. Her eyes had always been so clear to read, at least to him, and even though she fought now to keep her emotions covered, he could still sense a smothered desperation. Desperation to stop him.
Nico crossed his arms over his chest. “Firstly, I’m not going anywhere until I’ve met my nephew—”
“Nephew?” her father repeated, eyes narrowed.
“And secondly,” Nico continued, “I want someone to tell me what I’m missing here that—”
A small face peeped around the corner and lit up when he saw Beth. “Mummy!” He threw himself into her arms. “I forgot my space cruiser.”
Beth picked the child up and held him tight, her strawberry blond hair buried beside his mop of darkest brown. Nico frowned. That picture didn’t seem right. He had always visualized Beth and Kent’s child to be fair, like them.…
His stomach went into free fall and only his iron will stopped him stumbling backward as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It couldn’t be possible, surely, and yet.
The boy struggled to be let down and when Beth complied, he grabbed his grandfather’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, Granpa. You said we could go to the park when I got my cruiser.”
Mark’s eyes were the color of espresso, his face almost a replica of Nico’s own childhood photos. Could it be possible?
His mind flew back to their last night together before Beth had left, making love in the vineyard, her body bathed in moonlight. To the nights before that. Had they used protection? Every time? Could this small child be the product of his and Beth’s love all those years ago?
More than instinct told him he was right. Mark washis child, regardless of the age Kent and Beth attributed to him. Obviously a lie to keep him from the truth. To keep him from his son …
As the body blow slammed into him and the world tilted, Nico struggled to remain standing.
His son.
He had a child.
A small boy of his own flesh and blood. A thick ball of emotion filled his throat and he swallowed again and again, trying to move it. That perfect little person tugging on his grandfather’s hand was his. He’d wanted children so badly when he was younger, had wanted children with Beth.
It seemed his wish had been granted—goose bumps broke out across his skin as he felt a sudden chill—it’d just happened without his knowledge.
Mind reeling, he focused on Beth. “We have to talk. Now,” he said through gritted teeth.
Frowning, Mr. Jackson looked from him to Beth and back again. “You didn’t know, did you?”
“No,” СКАЧАТЬ