A Passionate Reunion In Fiji / Cinderella's Scandalous Secret
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Livia’s childhood had been torrid; filled with violence and menace, her father murdered before she reached double digits, her mother the manager of a wedding dress shop who sold drugs for extra cash along with the white lace creations. Her mother also received a monthly payment from Don Fortunato, the mafia boss Livia’s father had protected. Blood money, Livia always disdainfully referred to it as. Money had never been an issue in the Esposito home. She’d told Massimo once of going into the back storeroom of her mother’s shop and finding wads of cash wrapped in elastic bands in one of the boxes that was supposed to store garter belts. She’d estimated it at half a million euros. Money that belonged to Don Fortunato, stashed away until he came to reclaim it and launder it back into the world.
It had taken more guts than Massimo could comprehend for Livia to claw her way out of that violent, narcotic-infested world. She saw his childhood as idyllic, had no comprehension of what it was like to walk rain-lashed streets with holes in the soles of her shoes or to be the butt of school tormentors’ jokes because the clothes you wore were two sizes too small and threadbare. He could have coped with being the butt of all the jokes if his parents had worked hard, as his one close friend’s parents had, the father holding down two jobs, the mother working school hours, but they didn’t. They hadn’t. His father had worked in a shoe repair shop. By mutual agreement, his mother hadn’t worked since Massimo’s birth.
Life was for living! his father would proudly proclaim. Not for being a slave!
What did it matter if they could only afford to eat meat once a week? Their vegetable patch grew an abundance of nutritious food!
What did it matter if they couldn’t afford to buy Massimo a new calculator when his was flushed down the toilet by his school tormentors? His brain was advanced enough to be its own calculator!
His brain was advanced enough to be its own calculator out of necessity, not design. And it had been advanced enough to know that if he wanted to make anything of his life it would have to come from him alone. From the age of thirteen, he’d worked for anyone who would employ him: running errands, stacking shelves, working on market stalls, cleaning offices. You name it, he’d done it. He’d bought his own computer and a phone, the rest of the money he’d stashed away for university, which was just as well as when it had come time for him to leave home for the wonder that was higher education, his parents had not had a single cent spare to help him.
It was during his university years that he’d created the platform game that had made him his initial fortune and also brought him closer to his grandparents. They’d moved to Rome when their daughter had married Massimo’s Italian father and, their apartment being much closer to his university than his parents’ home, had insisted he visit regularly for home-cooked food and a comfortable bed. It was in these years that he’d learned more about his grandfather’s roots and heritage.
And now he was here in the place he’d visited only in his imagination, about to be closeted with his family for the first time in two years.
His parents’ eyes were alight as he approached them.
What he intended to be a sedate, functional greeting was quickly turned into a greeting worthy of Hollywood. His father ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him into an embrace that would have squeezed the life out of a weaker man, then his mother did the same. Their exuberantly delivered words were lost amidst the planting of paternal and maternal kisses all over his face.
When he was finally able to disentangle himself, he turned to greet his grandfather and found himself faltering.
The wizened man sitting in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank attached…that was his grandfather? This was Jimmy Seibua?
Getting down to his haunches, Massimo stared into the filmy eyes that had once been the darkest chocolate then gently embraced him, his heart pounding with shock and pain.
It was like embracing a skeleton.
He hid his shock with the widest smile he could conjure. From the periphery of his vision he saw Livia speaking to one of his grandfather’s medical team. He would talk to them too. Soon. When he was confident he could speak without ripping their heads off.
Soon the entire family was reclining together on sofas dragged together to form a square, his grandfather wheeled over to be with them, fresh coffee, pastries and fruit brought out for them to devour.
This should be a moment of great satisfaction for him but instead Massimo felt as if he’d been hit by an articulated lorry. His chest felt tight, as if all the air had been sucked out and his lungs and heart vacuum packed. He detested small talk at the best of times but right then he could hardly move his tongue to form simple words, responding to his brother-in-law’s chat with grunts and monosyllables.
At his sister’s instigation, he’d arranged for them to spend the day on the yacht he’d bought for the island, sailing out to a tiny atoll twenty kilometres away. This atoll was circled by a protected coral reef even more spectacular than the one surrounding Seibua Island and which cruise liners were forbidden from visiting.
Only another forty-eight hours to go until he could leave and return to his home and work in America.
He had a feeling these were going to be the longest forty-eight hours of his life. The distance between them had never felt greater. This was his family but he’d never felt a part of it. Part of them. Always he’d felt like the cuckoo in the nest. If he didn’t have such a strong physical resemblance to his father and the colouring of his mother, he could easily believe he’d been adopted.
The only person he’d ever felt completely at ease with had been Livia but he now knew the ease had been a dopamine-induced illusion. She was sitting on the opposite sofa chatting to Madeline with baby Elizabeth on her lap, uncaring that her hair was being pulled by a tight, pudgy fist.
His estranged wife was more comfortable with his family than he was. The woman who’d laughed at having a child with him was laughing now, pretty white teeth gleaming where the sun’s rays filtered through the high windows and bathed her in their light.
It was only when their eyes met that he saw the effort it was costing her to maintain a carefree front. When he’d walked out of his bathroom naked and found her standing there…
He’d wanted to touch her with an ache that came from the very centre of his being.
The desire he’d thought had died with their marriage had come back to life as if it had never left. Livia still breathed in his blood. She pumped through his veins in a hot, relentless motion that seeped through his every pore, making his skin feverish.
There could be no going back. She was only there because of her love for his grandfather and her affection for the rest of his family.
Massimo waited until he’d drained his coffee before getting to his feet. ‘I need to stretch my legs,’ he announced. ‘I’ll see you all on the yacht in an hour.’ Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the lodge and into the blazing sun.
His chalet was the one over the bridge and he headed towards it without breaking stride. His family didn’t need him to entertain them. They were already settled in and relaxed in their surroundings, already tanned and glowing. All except his grandfather…
‘Massimo, will you wait?’
Muttering a curse under his breath, he turned his head. Livia was hurrying in his direction, her hair flowing in a stream behind her.
‘Problem?’ he asked tightly when she reached him.
Livia snatched a breath of air. It had been years since she’d walked so quickly. ‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’
His family had all turned their questioning eyes to her when he’d left the lodge. She’d shrugged apologetically and murmured that it had been a long flight before following him out.
He grunted and set off again.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?’ she asked when she caught up with him. Her short legs made double his strides to keep pace.
‘I’m going to call the owner of the agency.’
‘What agency?’
‘The one who supplied the nurses and carers who were supposed to look after my grandfather. The agency you used to work for.’
They both stepped onto the wooden bridge without changing pace. It felt as substantial beneath her feet as the earth itself. ‘Why?’
‘I chose that agency because my previous experience with them was positive. I am disgusted that they’ve allowed him to get into this state. He’s skin and bone. When was the last time he had a shave? My grandfather has shaved every day of his adult life and now he looks like a homeless drug addict.’
They’d reached the door to their cabin but before he could open it, Livia placed a hand on his wrist.
‘I tried to warn you,’ she said gently when he finally met her gaze. A pulse throbbed in his jaw.
He closed his eyes then shook her hand away. ‘I know his cancer is incurable,’ he bit out. ‘That is no excuse for allowing him to get in such a state.’
She sighed and followed him into the chalet. After closing the door, she rested her back against it and tried to think of the words to use that wouldn’t add to his distress. For she was quite certain that his anger was nothing but a mask for his anguish at seeing first-hand how close to death his grandfather really was.
‘He’s lost so much weight because he can’t handle solid food any more,’ she told him quietly. ‘They can’t shave him as often as he would like because his skin’s become too sensitive. He can only cope with them doing it once a week.’
‘You would make excuses for them,’ he retorted scathingly. ‘The medical profession always protects its own.’
‘Even if I was still on the agency’s books I wouldn’t make excuses for medical negligence.’
The usually soulful eyes glittered menacingly. ‘You accept they’ve neglected him?’
‘No. They have given him exceptional care. The problem is it’s been so long since you last saw Jimmy that the changes are more obvious to you.’
‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to get around to my supposed neglect of him.’
Livia sighed again in lieu of biting her tongue and in a vain effort to temper the anger rising in her. This was a weekend for celebration, not recriminations. Massimo was the one who had to live with his conscience, not her.
‘Your grandfather is very ill, Massimo, but he’s as comfortable and as pain-free as he can be. He’s here on the island he loves with the family he loves. You made this happen, all of it. Don’t spoil things for him by taking your anger at his condition out on those who have done their best for him.’
His jaw tightened as she spoke. For a long time he didn’t respond, just stared at her until his nostrils flared and he gave a sharp nod. ‘I need to call in with the office.’
This time her sigh was one of exasperation.
‘I need to answer any questions the project manager has about the analysis and data before we set sail. Okay?’
She was glad he turned his back on her and strode through to the chalet’s living room, his wretched phone already in his hand. It meant he didn’t see the sheen of tears that suddenly filled her eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
LIVIA TAMPED DOWN the gulf of feelings knotting her belly and boarded the white yacht. Although dwarfed in size by the cruise ship it was moored next to, it still dazzled with elegance. After their mammoth journey to the island she would have preferred to spend the day relaxing but this was the trip Madeline had forced Massimo to concede to. Livia knew what her sister-in-law was thinking: that forcing Massimo into close quarters would stop him hiding away.
Unfortunately, Madeline hadn’t reckoned on Massimo boarding the yacht with his laptop case slung over his shoulder and his phone sticking out of his shorts pocket and Livia saw her lips pull in tightly. When they set sail, Livia was the only one secretly pleased when he made his excuses and disappeared inside.
Disappointment was writ large on his family’s faces.
She met Madeline’s gaze and shrugged apologetically.
Barely three hours with Massimo’s family and she’d already made two silent apologies for him.
Sailing at a steady pace over the calm South Pacific, it took only an hour to reach the atoll. They whiled the time away in a lazy fashion, dipping in and out of the swimming pool and chatting. The captain anchored the yacht at a distance far enough away not to cause any damage to the precious reef but close enough for them all to see the clear turquoise water teeming with brightly coloured fish and all other manner of sea life. Madeline and Raul donned their snorkelling gear and jumped in, leaving baby Elizabeth in Sera’s capable hands.
Livia looked out at Madeline and Raul having the time of their lives in the water, at Sera playing happily with her granddaughter, at her father-in-law Gianni, book in one hand, large cocktail in the other, at Jimmy napping in his wheelchair in a shaded part of the deck, at the chefs cooking up a storm on the barbecue and felt a sharp pang rip through her chest.
Massimo should be there with them.
She hurried down the stairs and slipped inside in search of him.
The interior of the yacht was vast and as sleek and as elegant as the exterior and refreshingly cool after the hazy heat on deck. It took a few minutes before she found him hidden in an isolated section of the saloon, tapping away on his laptop. So engrossed was he in his work that it took a few moments before he noticed her presence.
‘Lunch is almost ready,’ she said briskly.
‘I’ll be ten minutes.’
‘And then you’ll turn your laptop off and leave it off?’
‘I can’t.’
She inhaled deeply to smother her anger. ‘Your family have been looking forward to spending time with you.’
‘And they will.’
‘When?’ she challenged. ‘Tomorrow, everything will be about the party and then you go back to LA. Today is the only day when it’s just us and you’re missing out. You’ve travelled thousands of kilometres to be here. It’s not going to kill you to turn your laptop off and spend some time with your family.’
His jaw clenched, his fingers now drumming on the table rather than tapping on his laptop.
Looking at the obstinate set of Livia’s jawline, Massimo knew she wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace until he joined the rest of them on deck.
It wasn’t that he disliked spending time with his family. Not really. It was that they were all so different from him. His approach to life was alien to them. They believed he worked too hard, never understanding that it was only when he was immersed in his work that he felt at peace with himself.
It would be easier to handle these few days with them if Livia weren’t there. It was hard enough dealing with his family’s suffocating love without adding his estranged wife and all the intense emotions she’d drawn back out of him into the mix.
How could he find ease in her company when his attention was consumed by her every movement? She stood a good five feet from him but awareness thrummed through him, a buzz on his skin, an itch in his fingers. Her black swimsuit was designed for functionality and not for flaunting her body but still he reacted as if she were wearing the skimpiest of bikinis. The itch in his fingers became unbearable when he noticed the smudge of mascara under her left eye from where she’d dried her face after her swim. He wanted to rub the smudge away.
He breathed in deeply through his nose and nodded. ‘I’ll turn my laptop off and join you in ten minutes.’
She inclined her head and backed away. Just when he thought he was rid of her she fixed him with a hard stare counteracted by a quirking at the corner of her lips. ‘If you get your phone out at all while we’re on this yacht, I can’t promise that it won’t become fish food.’
Two hours later and Livia almost wished Massimo would return to the saloon and do more work.
After they’d eaten their long lunch; barbecued fish freshly caught that morning and an array of salads, she’d gone snorkelling with Madeline and climbed back on board to find Massimo had removed his T-shirt and draped it carelessly on the back of his chair.
Trying hard to blur his magnificent physique from her sight, she wrapped her beach towel around her waist while Madeline went straight to Raul, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his balding head. In response, he twisted in his chair and squeezed her bottom.
Livia couldn’t stop her eyes from seeking Massimo, her heart throbbing as she remembered a time when they’d been as tactile and affectionate together as his sister and brother-in-law were. Her insides heated to match the warmth on her skin when she found his gaze already on her. Was he remembering those heady, carefree days too…?
His eyes pulsed before he looked away and reached for the jug of fruit cocktail. He refilled his glass then filled another and pulled out the empty chair beside him. Livia sat, accepting the drink with a murmured thanks, and tried again to blur out his naked chest. Even with the parasol raised to shade them from the worst of the heat, the sun’s rays were slow-roasting them. One of Jimmy’s carers had taken him inside for a nap.
Madeline pulled a bottle of sunscreen from her bag. Once she and Raul had slathered themselves in it, she passed the bottle to Livia, who rubbed the lotion over her face, covered her arms, shoulders, the top part of her chest not covered by her swimsuit and her neck. But she couldn’t reach all of her back.
‘Here, let me.’
Of course Massimo would offer to help. They had a watching audience, just as they’d had when they’d arrived at the lodge and he’d offered his hand to help her out of the golf buggy. His offer was for their benefit. If not for them, he would probably let her burn.
Trying valiantly to keep her features nonchalant, Livia gave the bottle to Massimo and twisted in her seat so her back was to him.
The anticipation of his touch was almost unbearable. And when it came…
Her breath caught in her throat.
Darts of awareness spread through her, memories flooding her of the first time he’d applied sunscreen to her skin. They’d been on their honeymoon in St Barts. They’d sunbathed naked, secure in their privacy. Massimo had rubbed the lotion sensually over every inch of her skin. By the time he’d rolled her onto her back and driven deep inside her, she’d been wet and aching for him. It had been the quickest she had ever achieved orgasm.
Now, he applied the lotion to her back briskly. His indifference made her heart twist with sadness but she worked hard to keep her lips curved upwards.
His hands pulled away with an abruptness that made the twist in her heart turn to an ache.
‘Turn around and I’ll do your back,’ she ordered, proud that her voice was as bright as she intended for their watching audience.
As he was so tall and broad, there was a lot more skin to cover than the small area of exposed flesh on her own back.
Resisting the temptation to squirt it straight onto his back and have the fleeting enjoyment of watching him squirm at the quick shock of cold on his warm skin, she placed a healthy dollop into her palm, rubbed her hands together to spread it equally between them then placed them on his shoulder blades.
He still flinched.
She worked as briskly as he had to rub the lotion into his smooth skin.
When had she last touched his back? She couldn’t remember. The coldness that had entered their marriage hadn’t appeared overnight. It had accumulated over time until one day there was nothing but ice where once there had been love.
She had forgotten how much pleasure she got from simply touching him. Massimo carried so much on his shoulders. She’d loved to massage his knots away and feel him relax beneath her fingers. There were knots there now beneath the pads of her fingers, at the top of his spine and around his shoulder blades. Big ones.
Livia gritted her teeth and, dragging her hands from the knotted shoulders, swept down to the base of his back and covered the last bit that needed protection from the blazing sun.
The weight on his shoulders and the knots formed by it were none of her concern.
The moment she was done she pulled her hands away with the same abruptness that he’d done with her then breathed a quick sigh of relief when the captain appeared on deck, distracting everyone’s attention. It was time to sail back.
His family’s natural exuberance, which Massimo had never inherited, made sailing a noisy affair. The three women were in the pool swimming with his niece, laughing and splashing, leaving him at the table with his father, grandfather and brother-in-law, answering questions as best he could about the carbon filter he was days away from testing the prototype of. He could see the effort it was taking for them to concentrate.
He couldn’t help his gaze drifting to the swimming pool, his attention as attuned as it had always been to Livia’s every movement.
He was also intensely aware that she’d left her phone on the table and intensely ashamed that he wanted to snatch it up, take it somewhere private and trawl through all her communications over the past four months. He wondered how she would react if he were to throw it overboard and give it the same fate she’d threatened his own phone.
As if it were aware of his attention, her phone suddenly burst into life.
His father peered at it. ‘Livia, Gianluca’s calling,’ he called to her.
‘Coming!’ She scrambled out of the pool, snatching her towel as she padded to the table, but her brother’s call had gone to voicemail before she reached them.
Her brow furrowed. ‘Excuse me a moment. I need to call him back.’
As she climbed the stairs to the top deck, Massimo’s mother got out of the pool and joined them at the table.
‘How is Gianluca doing?’ she asked him in an undertone, concern writ large on her face. ‘I know Livia has been very worried about him.’
But he never got the chance to ask what she was talking about for Madeline had sneaked up behind him and suddenly thrust a soaking Elizabeth into his arms. ‘Here you go, Massimo. You can hold Elizabeth for me.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Nowhere.’ She stood at the balustrade with a cackle of laughter that produced laughs from his parents and a sound that could have been laughter too from his grandfather.
With a wriggling baby thrust upon him, Massimo filed away his mother’s comment about Livia’s youngest sibling as something to query later. Gianluca was the only member of Livia’s family he’d met. He’d turned up at their wedding looking furtive, constantly looking over his shoulder. His behaviour, Livia had later explained, was a mirror of her own when she’d first left Naples, a habit it had taken her years to break.
He hoped Gianluca hadn’t finally fallen into the life Livia had escaped from and which she’d so dearly hoped he would follow her out of.
Teenage boys were pack animals. That was Livia’s theory for why he hadn’t attempted to escape yet. He went around the Secondigliano with his gang of friends on their scooters, chasing girls, playing video games, employed by the brutal men who ran the territory to keep watch for enemies and the police. Livia was convinced that it was a life her brother didn’t want but Massimo was equally convinced that Gianluca had been as seduced by it as the rest of her family had been and that sooner or later he would be seduced into committing a crime from which there would be no going back. Livia’s strength of mind and moral code were rare.