The Secret Kept from the Italian

by Kate Hewitt

  ‘Can’t...?’ Antonio repeated dangerously.

  ‘Can’t trust,’ she said, a mutinous tilt to her chin. ‘Yet.’

  Antonio let out a slow, even breath, determined not to be hurt by her honesty. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I accept we don’t know each other very well. So I’ll put safeguards in place. You can own the house you live in outright, and have a monthly allowance that won’t change, no matter what, on direct debit. I’ll put it all in writing so you can be completely reassured.’

  Maisie stared at him, her expression both stunned and stricken. ‘That’s...that’s very generous, Antonio, but it’s not just about money.’

  He stared at her, nonplussed. ‘Then what is it about?’

  ‘My life,’ she cried. ‘And Ella’s life. What if—if Ella gets attached to you and then after a few months or years you feel you’ve had enough? You want to go back to your bimbos and business dismantling?’ Her expression turned fierce, her eyes glittering. ‘I won’t let you break her heart.’

  For a second Antonio had the bizarre sensation that Maisie hadn’t just been talking about their daughter. But that was, of course, nonsense. She didn’t like him. She’d made that plain, and it was probably easier if she continued in the same vein. ‘You clearly have a very low opinion of me,’ he remarked, keeping his voice toneless.

  ‘I need to be careful. For Ella’s sake.’

  ‘Let’s at least agree on a trial period, then,’ Antonio suggested. ‘Six months. If you’re not satisfied I’m in it for the long haul at the end of six months, we can renegotiate. But you have to agree to stay in Milan for that time.’

  He held her gaze, willing her to agree, even as a bitter little seed of fear inside him hoped she wouldn’t. That little seed made him long to run away from this—from Maisie, from Ella—because who was he to attempt to be a father? Have a family? His examples of both were appalling, and the blood-red stain of guilt would always be on his soul. But Maisie didn’t need to know any of that.

  ‘Six months,’ she said slowly, turning the words over. Antonio nodded.

  ‘Six months.’

  She held his gaze, and the air seemed to tauten and shimmer between them. She looked like Botticelli’s Venus, with her curly red-gold hair surrounding her lovely, heart-shaped face, her eyes wide and vivid green, her pink lips slightly parted. In her arms Ella gurgled and cooed, and the simple sound of innocence tightened something inside Antonio, nearly making him snap. He wanted this. He’d lost so much in his life, messed it up, given it away, but he wanted this. He needed it.

  Maisie broke their locked gazes first, her lashes fanning her cheeks as she looked downwards. ‘All right,’ she whispered, and Antonio felt a clench of triumph, a spasm of fear. He wanted this...but what if he failed yet again? What if he lost it all? He didn’t think he had it in him to pay for his sins a second time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAISIE STARED OUT at the cloudless blue sky as the jet took off from the tarmac, her stomach dropping with both the motion and the enormity of what she was doing. Had already done.

  The last two days had been a blur of activity as she’d prepared to leave her life in New York and move to Milan. Max had been both incredulous and worried, but even amidst his protestations that she couldn’t go running off with a virtual stranger, never mind that he was Ella’s father, Maisie had detected the tiniest flicker of relief in his eyes. The protests had died off with surprising speed, and instead he’d helped her pack.

  But more than for Max, Maisie had to believe she was doing the right thing for Ella. Antonio was Ella’s father, and he deserved the chance to have a relationship with his daughter. And it was only for six months. Although right now, watching from the window as the plane soared up into the sky, six months felt like a very long time.

  The motion of the plane had sent Ella to sleep, but now as it levelled out she stirred, opening wide blue eyes to look around in curiosity. Maisie glanced at Antonio, who had been looking at something on his tablet since they’d taken off. In fact, in the two days since she’d made the decision to come to Milan he’d become steadily more and more remote, making Maisie question her decision before she’d even put it into action. It was as if Antonio had got what he wanted, and was done with her...and with Ella.

  He hadn’t even held his daughter yet, or looked at her properly. It made Maisie wonder, with more than a touch of panic, why he wanted the two of them to come to Italy with him. Was he going to be like this for ever?

  ‘Antonio?’ she asked quietly, and he glanced up from his tablet, eyes narrowing.

  ‘Yes?’

  Maisie steeled herself against that look. Why did she feel as if she was a burden to him already? Taking up his precious time? This was exactly what she had been afraid of, in the dark corners of her mind and heart. That by coming to Italy, by trusting herself to him even in just the practical matters, she’d start to feel useless. Burdensome. Adrift.

  Her life in New York might not have seemed like much to a man like him, but it had been hers and she’d worked hard for it. The last thing she wanted was to feel like an irritation on the periphery of someone’s life.

  ‘Maisie?’ Antonio prompted, a touch of impatience in his voice.

  ‘Would you like to hold Ella?’ Maisie asked. ‘You haven’t held her yet. You’ve barely looked at her.’ She hadn’t meant to sound accusing, but she saw Antonio flinch. Maisie took a slow, even breath. ‘All I meant,’ she said carefully, ‘is that you’ve said you want to get to know her. We have an eight-hour flight ahead of us, and surely there’s no time like the present?’

  Antonio glanced at Ella, his face full of a sudden, surprising uncertainty. ‘I’ve never held a baby before.’

  Was he actually nervous? ‘It’s like falling off a log.’

  He gave her the glimmer of a smile. ‘Somehow I doubt that.’

  ‘Still.’

  Antonio glanced again at Ella, as if studying a problem and thinking how best to solve it. ‘How do you do it?’

  ‘Supporting the head is the most important thing, although not as crucial as when she was a newborn. She’s stronger and sturdier now. She won’t break.’ Gently Maisie hoisted Ella up and held her out. ‘Try?’

  Antonio drew back. ‘I don’t...’

  ‘Please, Antonio.’ And then, because she thought he needed the encouragement, she added softly, ‘You can do this.’

  Something flickered across Antonio’s face and then he held out his arms, awkwardly. Maisie handed Ella to him.

  The sight of their daughter in Antonio’s arms felt strangely, surprisingly profound. Antonio cradled her easily, her head resting in the crook of his elbow as she blinked up at him with wide blue eyes so like his own.

  A small, incredulous smile tugged the corner of his mouth. ‘Well, hello there, bella,’ he said softly. ‘Ciao.’

  Maisie let out a little laugh, a sound of pure emotion. She felt, bizarrely, near tears. ‘You’ll have to teach her Italian.’

  ‘Yes,’ Antonio answered, sounding firm, even fervent. ‘I will.’

  ‘And me, as well.’ Too late Maisie realised they weren’t likely to have that kind of relationship. Although Antonio hadn’t laid out the specifics, she’d gathered enough from what he’d said that they would live separate lives in Milan, connected only by their daughter.

  ‘Yes,’ Antonio said after a second’s pause, shooting her a swift, searching glance. ‘And you.’

  ‘I can just get a tutor,’ she half mumbled. ‘Or do something online...’

  ‘Why do something online when you have someone to teach you in person?’ Antonio countered. He turned back to Ella, his whole countenance softening. Ella blinked up at him, looking serious in a way only babies could look, and then, quite suddenly, a smile burst across her face like a rainbow, and she let out a gurgle, the sound one of pure joy.

  Antonio
blinked, seeming stunned, and then an answering smile bloomed across his face and he pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead.

  Maisie looked away, blinking back tears. She hadn’t expected to be so emotionally affected by the sight of Antonio with Ella. His daughter. Their daughter. For better or worse they were a family. The doubts that had been plaguing her mind like a flock of black crows started to disperse. It was the right decision to come to Milan. And maybe, just maybe, it would all work out well. If she worked at it. If they both did.

  A few minutes later Ella started to fuss, and Maisie took her back from Antonio for a feed.

  ‘That’s something I can’t do,’ he remarked wryly, and Maisie blushed, feeling exposed despite the blanket draped across her shoulder, hiding Ella and her unbuttoned shirt from view. This all felt so strange and intimate, and yet weirdly right too. It made everything inside her feel jangled and mixed up.

  ‘So tell me about Milan,’ she said as Ella relaxed against her. ‘I’ve never been to Europe or anywhere, really.’

  ‘Where did you grow up?’

  ‘Upstate New York. I only moved to the city for school.’

  ‘And Max?’

  ‘He went to Cornell, and lived at home to save money. When he got the internship in the city, it seemed meant to be.’ She smiled, the curve of her lips touched with sadness. ‘But I know you were right. He needs his freedom. It’s good for him that I’m going, even if it’s only for six months.’

  Antonio’s dark, straight brows drew together. ‘I hope it’s not only for six months.’

  ‘Trial period, remember?’ Maisie tried to speak lightly.

  ‘Yes, but I fully intend for that trial to be a success.’

  ‘How is it meant to work exactly, Antonio?’ Maisie bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to get serious so soon; she’d started this conversation intending for Antonio to tell her about the tourist sights. But perhaps it was better this way, because she needed to know.

  ‘I suppose we’ll make it up as we go along,’ Antonio said slowly. ‘I’m new to this too, obviously. The first thing is to get you and Ella settled. I’ve already arranged for us to view some suitable houses tomorrow.’

  ‘So soon?’

  ‘The sooner you both feel at home, the better.’

  Or the sooner he could get them out of his own house and life? Maisie couldn’t escape the feeling that Antonio was trying to put her and Ella into a tidy little compartment and keep them there. It shouldn’t bother her really, because she didn’t want to become emotionally attached to Antonio. That would be disastrous...for both her and Ella. It was the thing she was most afraid of.

  After Ella had dozed off, the flight attendant kindly provided a bassinet for her to sleep in.

  ‘It takes a steady hand,’ Antonio murmured as Maisie performed the tricky manoeuvre of getting Ella into the cot without waking her up. She held her breath as her daughter stirred, her face screwing up as if she were about to let out a blood-curdling scream before she suddenly relaxed, eyelids fluttering, and let out a breathy sigh of sleep.

  Maisie matched it with her own sigh of relief as she sank back into her seat. ‘Hopefully she’ll sleep for a few hours at least.’ She glanced out at the darkening sky. ‘It’s already past her bedtime.’

  ‘You said she has trouble sleeping?’

  ‘No more than most babies.’ For some reason Maisie felt defensive, as if Antonio was questioning whether she was a good mother. ‘She’s barely three months old. She’ll settle down into a routine, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  Maisie glanced out of the window, the sky darkening to indigo. Their lounger seats in First Class felt like a secluded and private enclave, even more so now that Ella was asleep. Alone with Antonio, without her baby to focus on and use as a sort of barrier, Maisie didn’t know how to act with this man who was still more stranger than not. Didn’t know how to feel.

  A flight attendant paused by their seats to give them menus. Maisie glanced down at the options for a five-course meal, bemused.

  ‘This sounds better than anything I’ve ever eaten in a restaurant,’ she remarked.

  ‘It certainly beats Economy Class,’ Antonio answered with a smile.

  Maisie laughed and shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never even been on an airplane.’ Antonio looked so surprised that she half wished she hadn’t admitted as much. It seemed she was always going to be acknowledging her innocence, her inexperience. She knew nothing of life because the years she should have been at school, exploring the city and learning about life, she’d been working two full-time jobs to support her and Max. Right now it made her feel terribly gauche.

  ‘I look forward to introducing you to some new experiences, then,’ Antonio said smoothly, and Maisie couldn’t decide if there was innuendo, or even intent, in his tone. He’d introduced her to some rather extraordinary new experiences already. ‘But first,’ Antonio added, nodding towards her menu, ‘let’s order.’

  * * *

  Antonio watched Maisie eye him uncertainly and wondered what he was playing at. No doubt she was wondering, too. Somehow, thousands of miles up in the air, it felt easy to discard his rules and resolutions and simply be, enjoying time spent with both Maisie and Ella. Flirt a little even.

  Holding his daughter had been an extraordinary experience. He’d been wary of it, because when it came to family relationships he feared he was the opposite of Midas, with everything he touched turning to ruin. But then Maisie had handed Ella to him, and he’d had no choice but to take her. It had been the most wonderful thing in the world; her smile had reached right inside him and grabbed his heart. Squeezed hard, and never let go. Now more than ever he knew he’d made the right decision in bringing Maisie and Ella to Italy with him. No matter what.

  As for Maisie... Antonio couldn’t come up with an acceptable explanation for ordering champagne with their dinner, or clinking glasses, or giving her a slow, considering smile as they sipped fizz and worked their way through five courses while Ella slept and the lights in the first-class cabin darkened, making everything feel more intimate. No reason at all...and yet he did it. Because he wanted to.

  As they ate and drank he asked about her childhood, what life was like when her parents were alive, how she had got into music and what she liked most about performing. The questions came naturally, seeming to surprise them both. Maisie’s answers started out stumbling and uncertain, but gradually became more confident and interested.

  ‘I love playing the violin, but it’s a private thing,’ she said as he poured more champagne and they started on their main course. ‘Performing has never interested me as much. The music itself is what feeds my soul, not whether people are listening.’

  ‘Feeds your soul,’ Antonio repeated musingly. ‘An interesting turn of phrase.’

  ‘What feeds your soul, Antonio?’ Maisie asked lightly. ‘Taking apart companies?’ He glanced at her appraisingly, acknowledging the very slightly scornful note in her voice. ‘Sorry.’ She grimaced. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean to spoil the mood...’

  ‘But you don’t agree with what I do.’ He stated it mildly, or tried to.

  ‘No, I don’t.’ She lifted her chin in a gesture Antonio already recognised as the way she gathered her courage. ‘Ruining people’s lives, all for the sake of profit...’

  ‘They were going to be ruined anyway.’ He tried to keep his voice even, tried not to feel the hurt. What did he care if Maisie thought he was some ruthless, renegade businessman? The newspapers and gossip rags liked to paint that picture, and he kept the altruistic side of his business ventures quiet. Very quiet. In any case, having Maisie think he was some cruel businessman was better than her knowing the truth.

  ‘Were they really going to be ruined?’ she asked, angling her chin a fraction higher. ‘Or would some jobs be saved, some lives be sav
ed, if the companies didn’t want to maximise their profit?’

  ‘The companies I work with are already being taken over.’ Antonio hadn’t wanted to justify himself, and yet he knew that was exactly what he was doing. He was nettled that Maisie had assumed the worst about him, even though he knew it was better that she did. He would only disappoint her otherwise. ‘They bring me in to try to minimise the damage, not maximise it.’

  ‘Then why do the newspapers say you’re so ruthless?’

  ‘I can be ruthless,’ he admitted. ‘Takeovers are by their very nature ruthless. People lose jobs. Lives are ruined. And that sells more newspapers than any good I might have been able to do.’

  Maisie’s lips twisted. ‘It just seems such a...sordid line of work.’

  ‘Someone’s got to do it.’

  ‘But you’re really in property, aren’t you? Buying and selling?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that building you knocked down...?’

  He sighed. ‘It was a disaster waiting to happen, Maisie.’

  He didn’t like having this conversation, even as he acknowledged it was better that they have a little distance between them. He couldn’t let the champagne and dim lighting lull him into wanting something that was impossible.

  ‘Maybe we should talk about something else,’ Maisie suggested, and Antonio gave a terse nod. Damn it, why was he feeling so hurt?

  ‘I asked you about Milan,’ she reminded him gently. ‘What sights are there to see?’

  Dutifully Antonio listed some of the museums and parks in the city, as well as the fantastic shopping. Maisie listened attentively, her eyes alight with interest.

  ‘Perhaps one weekend we can go to one of the lakes,’ he found himself suggesting. ‘They’re not too far away and they are very beautiful.’