A Shameful Consequence - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,56
was proving fruitless. There were so many with that name. And then came the call.
‘Can’t it wait till Monday?’ Constantine grumbled, as he suspended their kiss and answered the phone.
‘Two minutes,’ Nico said, ‘then I will turn the phone off.’
It was longer than two minutes.
A lot longer.
Constantine watched as the sun lowered, the lengthening shadows creeping over her, and looked at Leo who was now drooping. She should bathe him and change him, but as she walked up the steps his head rested heavily on her shoulders and not only did she not have the heart to wake him for a bath, she wanted to be with Nico. She slipped Leo into his cot, changed his nappy as he slept, then covered him to the shoulders with cool gauze. As she stared down at her son, her eyes filled with tears and Constantine took a few calming breaths, somehow knowing that the news Nico had sought for so long had finally come.
As she walked into the living room, Nico stood in silence, staring at the jigsaw that was framed on the wall, and it was clear there was a conversation to be had.
She crossed the room and looked at the image with him. Still, they were searching for Roula, his mother, and they could not work out if Nico and his twin had ever lived in this home or had been, more likely from what the neighbours said, painted from his grandfather’s imagination.
‘I don’t know if we’ll get the land …’ Nico said as she joined him, and his voice sounded normal. ‘The owner still says that he is not willing to sell.’
‘Oh.’ She frowned because it surprised her that that was what was troubling him—she had thought he’d had news, big news, about his brother. She thought the endless searching had finally turned up something. It was only land they were talking about after all, and they had each other. Nico had long ago convinced her that she and Leo were all that mattered to him.
‘The developer’s name is Zander.’ Nico said. ‘Charlotte rang and said she had been speaking recently with Zander himself.’ Constantine closed her eyes as Nico went and got the house deeds, as he turned to a signature that was so vital now. So vital that Nico ran his finger over the ink. ‘Zander Kargas.’
‘There could be many …’ she attempted, but her heart, too, told her this was true. ‘You need to speak to him,’ Constantine said. ‘Do you think … he knows …?’
‘He knows,’ Nico said. ‘I am sure of it. Why else would he have sold me this home?’
‘Because you paid a fortune.’
‘No.’ Nico shook his head. ‘He knows who I am.’ He handed her his phone, showed her the images he had just uploaded. It was bizarre: the man was the image of Nico, yet looked nothing like him—there was a savageness to him, a streetwise look that warned, from black eyes, not to approach. ‘Our parents’ home was the first that he bulldozed. I guess being left alone with that bastard has taken its toll. I just looked him up—he’s ruthless, from what I’ve read about him. I don’t think he sold me this house out of brotherly love.’ He looked at Constantine. ‘He lives in Australia, but he’s talking about coming back to look at the development. I think he is hoping to shock me. He’s playing games …’
‘You don’t know that.’
He did, but a wail from the bedroom meant he did not wait to explain why. Constantine followed as Nico went to tend to their son, her heart melting as she stood in the doorway and watched him settle Leo. He popped the baby’s thumb back into his mouth and she watched as Nico looked for a moment into eyes that were his. She twisted inside for him, but tried not let him see it, could not imagine how it would be for him, to be about to meet a twin he had not known existed.
‘Are you nervous about meeting him?’ she asked when he joined her in the doorway.
‘No.’ Nico shook his head. ‘It is too vital to be nervous.’ And then he conceded, ‘A bit.’
She thought of the future, of finding out the answers to all they were facing, but one thing was certain, not just for Nico but for her, too.
‘Then I tell myself I have nothing to worry about.’ Nico gave her that smile, the one that always melted her, the one that made her forget every problem. She understood exactly what he meant as he lowered his head to kiss her. ‘After all, whatever the day brings, at night I come home to you.’
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Carol Marinelli 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-92623-9
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Copyright