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Sasha’s horrified gasp echoed through the room. ‘She had an abortion?’
His eyes turned almost black with pain. ‘Sí. Two months later she married my ex-team boss.’
A wave of horror washed over her. ‘Are you even sure she was pregnant in the first place?’ Considering how heartless the woman had been, Sasha wouldn’t be surprised if she’d faked the pregnancy.
Marco’s movements were uncharacteristically jerky as he reached for his wallet. Beneath the photo, a small grey square slid out. In the light of the trophy room Sasha saw the outline of a tiny body in a pre-natal scan.
Tears gathered in her eyes and fell before she could stop them. With shaking hands she took the picture from him, the memory of her own loss striking into her heart so sharply she couldn’t breathe.
‘I was there the day this was taken. The thing was, all along I suspected Angelique was capable of that. She was extremely ruthless—driven to the point of obsession. But since she channelled all that into being my manager I chose to see it as something else.’
‘Love?’ she suggested huskily.
His jaw tightened. ‘I blinded myself to her true colours. My mother tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I almost cut her out of my life because of Angelique.’ He sucked in a harsh breath. ‘I lost my child...she lost her grandchild...because I chose to bury my head in the sand. She was devastated, and I don’t think she really got over the damage I did to our family.’
Brushing a hand across her cheek, she asked, ‘Why do you keep this?’
Marco took the scan and placed it back in his wallet. ‘I failed to protect my daughter. This reminds me never to fail my family again.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARCO LEFT AGAIN the next day and didn’t return for another two. When he returned Sasha met him in the hallway. His dragged her into his study and proceeded to kiss her with brutal need.
His confession in the garage had afforded her a glimpse into the man he was today. She now truly understood why he was so ferociously protective of Rafael. And why she couldn’t afford for him to find out the true depth of her feelings.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to vocalise what she’d been too afraid to say over the phone the night before.
‘Marco, I think I should leave. You can stay in Barcelona and not keep flying back here to see me. I can use the race track back home to train.’
His face clouded in a harsh frown. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Roughly he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
She tried to pull back but he held her easily. ‘But—’
His smile was strained through tiredness. ‘Rafael woke briefly last night. Only for a few minutes. But he appeared lucid, and he recognised me.’ The relief in his voice was palpable.
Sasha smiled. ‘I’m glad. But I think that’s even more of a reason for you to stay in Barcelona. What if he wakes again when you’re not there?’
Setting her free, he stabbed a hand through his hair. ‘He’s been moved to a private suite and I’ve set up video conferencing so I have a live feed into his room. Nothing will happen to him without my knowledge. I’ve also hired extra round-the-clock staff for when he comes home—including that nurse who was fired from the hospital in Budapest. So, you see, I’m not a total ass.’
‘I know you’re not. But you’re splitting yourself in two when it’s really Rafael who needs you most now.’
‘Maybe I want to put my needs ahead of Rafael’s for once in my life.’ He threw his hands up in the air. ‘What exactly do you want from me, Sasha?’
She was unprepared for the question. But she had one of her own burning at the back of her mind.
‘What do you want from me? What is the real reason you want me to stay here? Am I here just so you can have sex on tap or is this something more...?’ She faltered to a halt, too afraid to voice the words traipsing through her mind.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I hardly think this is the time to be having a where is this relationship going? conversation.’
‘Is there ever a right time? Besides, you don’t do relationships, remember?’
He shrugged off his jacket and flung it onto a nearby chair. ‘I want you here with me. Isn’t that enough?’ he rasped.
Another question she wasn’t prepared for. Not because she didn’t know the answer. It was because she knew the answer was no. Wanting was no longer enough. She was in love with Marco: with the boy whose heart had been shredded by a heartless woman and the formidable man who’d loved his unborn child so completely he’d closed his heart to any emotion.
