Kidnapped for Her Secret Son
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Andie Brock
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19,1K
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12
Prologue
‘BUONASERA!’
He was beside her in a couple of long strides. All towering height and dark, sexy masculinity, he was wearing expensively cut suit trousers and a white shirt tugged open at the throat. His black leather shoes were already sprinkled with a coating of dry Sicilian dust. Immediately his hands went to cup her face and he lowered his head to capture her mouth with a kiss full of possession and promise.
Leah leant in to him, her eyelids closing as she breathed in his familiar cologne mingled with his heat and scent after several hours’ travelling. She had been longing for this moment for weeks. But now...
‘Mmm, that’s better.’ Pulling away, Jaco let his arms drop and, finding her hands by her sides, linked his fingers through hers. ‘You look...bellissima.’ His intensely dark brown eyes raked hungrily over her body.
‘Thank you.’
‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’ Leah focussed on keeping her voice steady. ‘It’s been a long time, Jaco.’
‘Yes, too long.’ Running his hands over her cheeks, he kissed her softly on the lips again. ‘But now I am here I intend to make it up to you.’
He pulled her closer to him, the evidence of how he intended to do that already making itself felt.
Leah gently pushed him away. ‘So how long are you here for?’ She tilted her head to meet his.
‘I should be able to manage a couple of days.’ Jaco held her gaze, stroking a seductive finger along her jawline as if reacquainting himself with her face.
‘Two days?’ Leah rearranged her features to hide her disappointment.
‘Sí.’ He smiled at her—the sort of smile that could break a thousand hearts the world over. ‘So we’ll have to make the most of the time while we have it.’
‘Yes.’ She bit down on her lip. ‘I suppose we will.’
‘Right, I’m going to grab a shower, and maybe something quick to eat, and then I am very much hoping we can pick up where we left off.’ The wicked gleam in his eyes left no room for doubt as to where that would be.
Where they’d left off. Leah’s stomach swooped at the memory of the last night they had spent together. The wonderful intimacy they had shared before Jaco had disappeared from her life yet again.
Jaco Valentino: tall, dark, ridiculously handsome, flirty, funny and sexy...knee-shakingly sexy... He was impossible to ignore or resist. Introduced to her by her twin sister, Harper, at Harper’s wedding to Vieri, it had been lust at first sight for Leah. A sledgehammer kind of attraction—the sort you never really recovered from.
So when Jaco had invited her to visit his vineyard the next day she had accepted right away, any ideas about being more cautious, more circumspect, somehow blown to the wind. He had described the Capezzana estate as his ‘Sicilian roots’, and his obvious pride in the place had made her fall in love with it before she had even seen it. She’d known she might fall for its owner too, if she wasn’t very careful.
And Capezzana had proved to be every bit as enchanting as Jaco had said. With its rows upon rows of neat vines against a stunning backdrop of dark mountains, not to mention an imposing eighteenth-century palazzo, it was picture-perfect. The few days they had stayed there had been wonderful—special—as they had begun to get to know one another, sharing stories, chatting, laughing, sampling the delicious Capezzana wine—probably too much of it in Leah’s case.
Although her light-headedness had been more likely down to the company than the alcohol. Jaco Valentino was like no man she had ever met before. Somehow he made her feel as if the ground beneath her feet was no longer quite solid, as if the sky was more intensely blue, the air suddenly in short supply. It was a dangerously exhilarating feeling, but Leah had sternly told herself to stamp it down, not to let herself get carried away.
Because Leah had learnt never to trust a man. Starting with her father, who had turned to drink when she’d needed him most, it seemed to Leah that the opposite sex had done nothing but let her down her whole life.
Okay, maybe she was partly to blame. She was impulsive by nature, and a series of bad judgements had landed her in trouble more times than she cared to remember. Act first and think later. The phrase might have been invented for her. And it seemed there were plenty of men only too happy to take advantage of that.
From the job interview in Morocco, when she had ended up slapping the guy’s sleazy face after she’d found out what was really involved, to stupidly losing all her money to a gambling addict in Atlantic City, she had managed to mess up all over the world.
But only once had she lost her heart, and that had been in her home town of Glenruie, in the wilds of Scotland. At the age of eighteen, finally fit and healthy after the years of kidney problems that had plagued her young life, she had fallen head over heels for a handsome young redhead called Sam, the son of the local Laird. The same Laird who owned the Craigmore estate, which employed her entire family. Leah and Harper had both worked at the lodge, and their father, Angus, was the head gamekeeper.
The whole thing had ended in misery. Several months into their relationship Leah had discovered that Sam was engaged to someone else—a titled lady, no less. And not only that, as employees at the lodge Leah and Harper had had to wait on the happy couple at their wedding.
When a bowl of cock-a-leekie soup had mysteriously ended up in the groom’s lap, Leah had been hauled before the Laird and told in no uncertain terms that if she and her sister wanted to keep their jobs—and more importantly if they wanted their father to keep his, a job he was only hanging on to by a thread anyway, because of his drinking—Leah had better change her ways.
And so she had. Simmering with the injustice of it all, while trying to hide her poor broken heart, she had vowed she was never going to be stupid enough to fall in love again.
Which was why, even though the sexual chemistry between her and Jaco had been off the scale from the start, she had done her very best to keep herself grounded, not to give in to her feelings. Concentrating instead on trying to work out exactly who this darkly handsome stranger was. To figure him out rather than let the explosion of desire knock her off her feet.
And it had seemed that Jaco felt the same way. Flirtatious and tactile from the start, he had never tried to hide his attraction to her, but at the same time he had tantalisingly held back from attempting to take it any further. Treating their relationship like an unexploded bomb, he had handled it so carefully that Leah hadn’t known whether to swoon or scream.
So when the time had come for them to leave—Jaco to fly back to New York, and Leah reluctantly to return to her family home—she had told herself that that was that. With no mention of their meeting up again, she had swallowed her disappointment and pasted on a brilliant smile, only letting it slip very slightly when Jaco had enfolded her in his strong, warm embrace to give her a tight hug.
Lord, he’d felt so good. Pulling back, he had looked into her eyes for a long, mesmerising moment, before turning to stride away, taking a regretful little piece of Leah’s heart with him.
However, twelve months later they had met again. On discovering they were both to be godparents to Harper and Vieri’s baby son, Leah hadn’t been able to stop the rush of excitement. And when, a week before the christening, she’d received Jaco’s text message, saying how much he was looking forward to seeing her again, her whole body had started to sing and dance in anticipation.
But she’d known she had to be sensible. That text had been the only contact she’d had with him in a whole year. She had no idea what he’d been up to, who he had been seeing. He might well have a girlfriend by now—a whole string of girlfriends for all she knew. He looked as if he could handle it.
Trying to grill Harper for information about him had proved frustratingly unproductive. Even though he was Vieri’s oldest friend, it seemed Jaco Valentino played his cards very close to his chest. Slowly it had begun to dawn on Leah that she actually knew very little about this man who had had such a powerful effect on her—that while he was so good at eliciting information from her, he’d given virtually nothing away about himself.
The more she’d thought about it, the more she had started to wonder who the real Jaco Valentino actually was. Just who lay behind that darkly handsome exterior.
But the moment she had laid eyes on him again those doubts had been knocked aside like skittles—washed away by the tidal wave of attraction that had all but taken her legs from under her.
So after the christening ceremony, when Jaco had pulled her to one side, saying that he had a proposition to put to her, Leah’s senses had gone into free fall.
Taking her by the hand, he had led her into one of the many echoing rooms of Castello Trevente, the grand property that was now her sister’s family home. But his proposition had taken her by surprise. Instead of pulling her into his arms and making mad passionate love to her right there and then, up against the hard stone walls of the castello—something that Leah had been fantasising about ever since she had met him—Jaco had calmly offered her a job at his vineyard. He needed a marketing manager with immediate effect. He thought she would be perfect.
Quickly hiding her surprise, Leah had jumped at the chance. All her good intentions, her vague misgivings, had been instantly forgotten. A job in Sicily was a dream come true after the tedious boredom of Glenruie, the small town where she had been born and bred and had spent most of her adult life trying to escape. Capezzana was warm and exotic and beautiful. And so was the man who owned it. The thought of working alongside Jaco, spending more time with him, had only made his offer all the more enticing.
So Leah had moved to Capezzana straight away, with Jaco joining her for the first few days to help her settle in. Showing her around the grand palazzo, he had casually told her to treat it as her home, to choose whichever rooms she wanted for her offices and accommodation—as many as she liked.
Because it was the vineyard that was Jaco’s real passion—that was evident in the way his eyes lit up when he discussed the type of grapes they grew, last year’s harvest, the quality of the wine they produced.
Leah had been left in no doubt about what Capezzana meant to him. And, in turn, how much faith he was putting in her by giving her this job. She had determined there and then that she wasn’t going to let him down. She would work hard, learn fast and prove to Jaco, and to herself, that she wasn’t the flighty airhead that some of her stupid decisions of the past would suggest. Show him that his faith in her had not been misplaced.
On his last night there they had been sharing a simple supper outside, watching the sun setting over the vines, when finally it had happened. Finally the storm of desire that had been steadily building between them for so long had broken.
Starting with a bruising kiss, they had been tearing at each other’s clothes within seconds, stumbling backwards into the palazzo in their haste to find a bedroom, breathlessly surrendering to their craving hunger with wild, reckless abandon.
And so it had started—their stop-start relationship. Blisteringly hot nights of passion interspersed with long periods apart when Jaco was jet-setting around the world.
A billionaire tycoon with the Midas touch, his packed portfolio meant that the demands on his time were enormous. Leah had learnt to accept that that was just the way it was. And, despite the passionate nature of their relationship, they had both kept it light, had concentrated on living for the moment, having fun.
For Leah’s part, it was all about self-preservation—trying to hold herself back, refusing to let herself fall for this enigmatic man. And Jaco... Who knew what lay beneath that darkly compelling charm? Sometimes Leah wondered if he was just too preoccupied, too mercurial, too damned busy with his own big-shot career ever to belong to anyone.
Yet as she looked at him now—the living, breathing embodiment of him, instead of just a heated memory in her mind—and he gazed at her with those midnight eyes, he managed to make her feel as if she was the most gorgeous, most treasured creature ever to set foot on this earth. As if she was all he could ever want.
The fragile hope that she had so carefully repressed bloomed into life. Maybe, in view of what she had to tell him tonight, their relationship could become a much more permanent arrangement. Maybe they could be a proper couple...a family.
There was one sure way to find out...
‘Actually, Jaco...’ Leah took in a deep breath. ‘There is something I need to talk to you about.’
‘Sí?’
But already Jaco was distracted, dropping his bag to retrieve the phone that was buzzing in his trouser pocket. Leah watched as, his head bent, thick dark curls gleaming, his thumbs flew over the keypad. That bloody phone. It was like an instrument of torture. She would wait weeks to see Jaco, only to find herself competing with the wretched thing. And if not that, some other form of electronic communication.
He looked up. ‘Sorry, what were you saying?’
The phone buzzed again and, pulling an apologetic face, Jaco started to tap out another reply.
‘Scusa.’ He was still concentrating on the screen. ‘I have to reply to this.’
Of course you do.
‘I’ll tell you what...’ Leah sighed with exasperation. ‘Why don’t I fix us some food while you finish what you have to do?’
‘Buona idea.’ He picked up his bag again and slung it over his shoulder. ‘I’ll have a really quick shower.’ That wickedly slow smile put in another appearance. ‘Unless you want to join me, of course? In which case it could take a bit longer.’
The phone in his hand buzzed again. Leah scowled.
‘Ten minutes.’ He dropped a kiss on her lips before turning away, putting the phone to his ear. ‘Then I’m all yours.’
Leah stared after him, at his arrogant height, the broad set of his shoulders, the play of muscles beneath the handmade shirt. And somewhere inside her she felt her heart twist. Because deep down she wondered whether that could ever be true.
The ten minutes stretched into fifteen...twenty. Sitting out on the terrace, watching the golden sun lengthening the shadows of the vines as it started to sink below the horizon, Leah pushed aside her bowl of untouched pasta. Picking up a piece of bread, she absent-mindedly threw a few crumbs to the sparrows pecking around her feet.
This was typical of Jaco—always so busy, always clinching one deal or chasing after another. Always keeping her waiting. Even though her job kept her occupied, and even though she loved it, it still felt to Leah as if her time at Capezzana was time spent in limbo—just waiting for Jaco to reappear.
But tonight he was here. And, even though he didn’t know it yet, she was about to get his full attention. Telling him he was going to be a father was huge—momentous. She had no idea how he was going to take it. She hadn’t begun to get her own head around the idea—yet.
With a heavy sigh, Leah pushed back her chair and went inside, where the only sound was coming from the overhead fan circulating the warm air. Was Jaco still in the bedroom?
Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the old tiled floors towards the rooms she had occupied since moving in here. With their French doors, opening out onto a small terrace, she had picked them over the many other empty bedrooms upstairs, liking its cosy feeling of a small apartment inside this rambling palazzo. Liking, too, the way Jaco always automatically headed there when he visited—as if her space was his.
Despite herself, her mind began conjuring up images of him still naked from the shower, of his smile when he saw her, of the way he would take her in his arms and make love to her, all thought of food forgotten. All thought of what she had to say to him forgotten—at least for a short while. She knew she had absolutely no willpower as far as Jaco was concerned.
With her hand on the doorknob of the bedroom, she hesitated. She could hear Jaco speaking. Yet another business deal, no doubt.
Silently turning the handle, she had only opened the door a fraction when some sixth sense kicked in, telling her that, no, this was not a business conversation. Through the crack in the door she could see him, sitting on the bed, his back to her, a laptop balanced on his knee. He was taking a video call, and the woman on the screen was dark-haired, dark-eyed...beautiful.
A cold finger of dread traced Leah’s spine. Speaking in Sicilian, their voices were soft, Jaco’s little more than a whisper, but there was no mistaking the tone—tender, caring, the sort of tone that lovers shared.
Leah forced herself to try and understand what they were saying over the deafening thud of her heart. Her command of the language was pretty basic, but Jaco seemed to be telling her not to worry, that everything would be all right.
‘Lo prometto, Francesca.’
I promise.
But it was their final words that left no room for doubt. Paralysed with dread, Leah watched as the woman touched two fingers to her lips and blew Jaco a kiss, smiling tenderly as she told him she loved him. And Jaco’s reply shattered Leah’s world into a thousand pieces there and then.
‘Ti amo anch’io...’
I love you too.
She turned away, blinded by tears, numbed by the shock that was slowing her heart, closing her throat.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she ever have thought that she and Jaco might actually have a future? How could she have been taken for a fool by a man again—only this time a thousand times worse, a thousand times more painful?
Retracing her steps, she fled back out onto the terrace, descending the steps that led down into the private garden, running through the archway in the yew hedge and out into the vineyard itself. Racing through the rows of vines, she just kept going, running and running, the heavy bunches of grapes swinging as she rushed past, her breath burning in her chest. She had no thought for where she was going. No thought for anything other than that she had to get away.
