A Passionate Reunion In Fiji / Cinderella's Scandalous Secret. Michelle Smart
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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.