by Kate Walker
‘You see…’
‘No, I don’t see! I don’t see anything at all! You said you were on the Pill—you promised me that you were protected and yet…’
‘Yes.’ It was all that Emily could manage, her voice low and miserable, her gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet the black, glittering coldness of his beautiful eyes. ‘Yes, I know.’
Outside a car door slammed and footsteps headed towards the front door. She knew who it was, of course. At precisely the worst possible moment, Joe McKenzie had finally turned up.
She knew that Vito had heard him too, but not by so much of a flicker in his eyes or a change of expression on his face did he show any reaction. Instead he took a couple of long, angry strides towards her, caught her chin in his hand again and lifted her downbent head until she was forced to look him in the face.
‘I want an answer, Emilia,’ he told her harshly. ‘And I want the truth. The baby that you’re carrying: is it mine?’
There was only one answer she could give him. He had demanded the truth and there was nothing else she could say. Swallowing hard and steeling herself to meet that burning gaze, she took a deep, unsteady breath and brought the words out in a rush.
‘Yes! Yes, yes, yes—the baby’s yours. It’s yours—your child, all right? It’s yours!’
At last the words were out. Her shoulders slumped with the sheer relief of having the truth out in the open, then tensed again at the thought of what might be coming next. How was Vito going to react? What was he going to do?
She had told him that she was on the Pill—promised him that there would be no repercussions from the night of passion they had shared. But events and circumstances had conspired against her so that, unknowing, she had broken that promise and the result of that was there, in her womb, five months later. A baby. A baby that Vito had never wanted. A baby that he had not known existed—until now.
And now that he knew…
‘Mine,’ Vito said in a tone and with an expression that she found impossible to interpret.
And before she could begin to do so, the footsteps outside came right up to the door and the next moment the sound of the bell rang through the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
YES—the baby’s yours. It’s yours—your child.
My child.
The baby that Emily was carrying was his child—a baby he had only just discovered existed. A baby that she had known about for five months. Carried for five months.
Kept secret for five months.
And would have continued to keep secret from him if he hadn’t turned up here so unexpectedly.
The memory of why he had come here, the thoughts that had been in his mind as he turned the car into the drive, the hunger that had been beating at him from the moment he had first seen her at the window, all paled into insignificance beside this one fact, this one huge, stunning, major fact.
Emily Lawton was pregnant with his child.
She was waiting for his reaction. He looked into her pale face, into her wide, apprehensive blue eyes.
She did right to look apprehensive, damn her! She had known all this time and then she had let him find out this way…
She hadn’t even told him! She had let him find out…
‘Vito…’ Emily began, her voice weak and uncertain, and he could feel the faint tremor in her chin where he still held it clamped between his finger and thumb. ‘Please…’
‘No!’
She wanted to talk. Wanted him to say how he felt. He wasn’t ready to say anything! How the hell could he talk when he didn’t even know how he felt—couldn’t begin to think about it?
‘No.’
He released her, stepped back, holding up his hands like a barrier between them.
‘No.’
‘But Vito—’ she tried again, breaking off sharply when the doorbell rang for the second time, interrupting them again. Her blonde head turned sharply, her gaze going towards the door, then back to his face again.
‘That’s Joe…’ she said hesitantly. ‘The estate agent. He knows I’m expecting him.’
‘Answer it.’ He growled the command, knowing he could do nothing else.
‘But—’
‘Answer it!’ And then, as the bell rang yet again. ‘Open the door now. He isn’t going to go away. Go!’
He gave her a slight push when she still hesitated.
Watching her hurry to the door, straightening her hair, her dress, as she went was a form of torture when his body was still aching in arousal, still hungry for the sensual satisfaction that he had clamped down on so suddenly and so shockingly. The sway of her hips was pure temptation but he wasn’t going to let himself even think about that. With the return of a degree of control came a return of more rational thought.
And rational thought shone a very different light on things.
The baby’s yours…your child.
She’d sounded genuine enough, but then so had Loretta. Loretta had claimed to be carrying his child so as to trap him into marriage. And she’d damn nearly succeeded.
That was not going to happen again.
But one thing was sure. There was a child. And quite clearly a child that had been conceived some months ago.
Five months? He’d need confirmation of that.
‘So where would you like to start?’
Emily had come back into the room with a small, stout, balding man who carried a clipboard and a large measuring tape. The pink flush that had washed her cheeks still hadn’t totally faded, giving her more colour than she’d had since he’d arrived.
‘Oh—and Joe, this is…’ she hesitated over the name, the blood racing into her skin once again ‘…Signor Corsentino. He’s—he’s just leaving.’
She accompanied the words with a blatant glare and a swift, signalling glance towards the door. A signal that Vito was determined to ignore.
‘There’s been a change of plan about that,’ he drawled, stepping past her to shake the estate agent’s hand. ‘I thought it better if I stayed.’
If she believed that he was going to back out quietly after the news she’d just given him and give her a chance to regroup and recover then she had better think again. Once this estate agent’s visit was over they had some talking to do—and he wanted some very good answers.
Besides, there was something about this situation that set his teeth on edge. There were undercurrents that swirled around Emily and the fact that she was selling the house—problems that he meant to get to the bottom of. And soon.
So he accompanied Emily and Joe McKenzie as they went from room to room, observing everything as he went and taking in as much as he could from them.
It was a big house, large, and elegant. But it had obviously seen better days and there were places where the neglect was more than just letting the decoration grow shabby, or the curtains fade.
So was this why she was selling up? Had her husband perhaps not left her enough money to maintain even the standard of living that they had once enjoyed? Or was she planning on a very different way of life from this quiet, countryside existence?
One thing that intrigued him was the complete lack of any photographs of Emily or her husband. Most homes had at least one or two—a wedding photograph if nothing else—but he couldn’t spot a single one on his journey round the house. It was almost as if she had erased the man she had married from her life. There wasn’t even one in the small single bedroom that unexpectedly turned out to be where Emily herself slept; the only room with any personal items in it at all. And that room too was a surprise. Why, when she could have had her pick of the four big double bedrooms, particularly the one that overlooked the large garden at the back, would she have chosen this small, shabby room that didn’t even have an en suite bathroom?
He added the question to the list of those he wanted answering when he was alone with Emily once again.
They were going to have one hell of a lot to talk about.
‘So that’s everything, I
think.’
Emily focused her attention totally on Joe McKenzie and tried hard to keep her voice calm and neutral. It was the only way she could keep a grip on the unsettling, uncomfortable emotions that had been swirling through her ever since Vito had arrived at the house. In the space of less than half an hour she felt as if she had been on a wild roller-coaster ride, shooting up and down until her head spun and she was dizzy and sick with stress. So that now she could barely see straight and it was an effort just to keep putting one foot in front of the other while keeping herself upright.
‘Perhaps you’d like to come back downstairs and have a drink while we discuss the details.’
She wasn’t going to look at Vito, wasn’t even going to acknowledge his existence as she led the way down the big curving staircase into the hall and through into the living room. All through the lengthy inspection of the house that had once been her home, she had been painfully, uneasily aware of his dark, silent presence, always there, just at her right shoulder so that if she turned her head she saw his big, powerful form prowling along beside her like some lean, muscled hunting cat. Those deep grey eyes had looked everywhere, seen everything, noted everything. So many times she had glanced at his face to see the way they were narrowed in sharp assessment, fierce as a laser, and she could almost hear that cool, incisive brain working inside his head, taking in everything—and coming to what sort of conclusions?
She wished she knew what he was thinking. Wished that she didn’t have to do this in front of him; that she didn’t have to wash some of her dirty linen in front of him. Because she had very little hope that she was going to be able to get away without doing just that.
But she was going to try. Vito was still following when they reached the living room and so, as Joe McKenzie had seated himself and started making notes on the paper on his clipboard, Emily turned deliberately in the doorway, blocking off the other man’s entry to the room.
‘Didn’t you say you had to leave about now?’ she asked pointedly, directing a small, tight, fake-polite smile up into his face. A smile that was purely for Joe McKenzie’s benefit and which had no real warmth or softness in it at all.
‘I think not.’
Vito’s smile was as meaningless as hers had been but there was something behind it, something dark and faintly dangerous, that made her shiver in spite of the warmth of the morning sun. Don’t challenge me on this, was the warning that threaded through his words, giving them an ominous edge that stripped away the apparently easy tone and left it stark and brutal, totally uncompromising in a way that only Emily was aware of. To Joe, who couldn’t see those deep dark eyes, the obdurate set of the strong jaw, it was simply polite conversation.
‘We have things we still need to talk about…’
Cold grey eyes dropped to her belly to make it only too plain just what those ‘things’ were, then came up again to clash with her own gaze in a silent battle in which there could only ever be one winner.
‘But they can wait until you’ve finished your business with Mr McKenzie,’ Vito went on with a change of tone that made Emily blink in shaken astonishment.
If she hadn’t seen that deliberate, provocative movement of his eyes, seen the way that his sensual mouth had thinned in barely controlled irritation, she would never have suspected there was anything but easy-going consideration in Vito’s behaviour. And she was still staring in bewilderment when he put his hands on her shoulders and spun her round, walking her into the room and towards one of the chairs.
‘So why don’t I make more coffee while you concentrate on that?’
I don’t want coffee and if I did I most definitely wouldn’t want you to make it! Emily wanted to shout after him as he strolled towards the kitchen, where she had made him a drink almost an hour before.
But of course she couldn’t, not with an audience. She knew only too well that Joe McKenzie would be going straight from here to Mark’s family, and the news of a stand-up fight between her sister-in-law and a mysterious, handsome Italian would be just the sort of gossip that Ruth would latch on to with greed, wanting to know everything about it.
So she forced herself to sit down with Joe and tried to concentrate on what he was saying about the condition of the house and the state of the market. Not that any of it really mattered to her. She didn’t have a hope in hell of finding the money to buy any sort of house, let alone find the cost of this particular enormous place. And when Joe finally came up with his valuation, the amount he named made her blink hard in shock.
‘So that’s the price I’ll be putting on the house,’he said. ‘I’m sure Mrs Hastings will find it satisfactory.’
‘I’m sure Ruth will,’ Emily managed, her voice breaking slightly as she struggled to absorb the full implications of the enormous cost. ‘She’s never liked this place anyway and she’d much rather have the money.’
‘But where will you live?’ Joe’s concern showed in his hazel eyes.
‘Wherever I can find.’
Emily sighed. Casting a quick glance towards the kitchen, where the sound of cups and saucers being placed on the worktop showed that Vito was absorbed and out of earshot, she went on, ‘And, considering what you’ve just told me about the housing market, that’s not going to be easy.’
‘Not without substantial funds behind you. I must say, my dear that I really couldn’t believe it when I heard what Mark had done.’
Joe shook his head in disapproval and disbelief.
‘It really shouldn’t have been that way.’
‘It’s all water under the bridge now, Joe.’
Emily tried a smile but her lips felt as if they were stretched too tight. As if they might actually crack or splinter if she tried to put any real emotion behind it.
‘And to be honest, I’d really rather have it this way. So tell me, when this place goes on the market, how long do you think I’ll have—before I have to think about moving out? Will it be easy for Ruth to get a buyer, do you think?’
Joe looked dubious just at the thought of responding to her question and that gave Emily her answer without him having to speak. So it wasn’t any sort of a shock, but still the news was worse than she had thought.
‘Last house like this I had on the books, someone snapped it up within the week.’
‘A week!’
Emily’s spirits, already low, plummeted right to the soles of her feet. She had hoped for a little more time to prepare and this was worse than even her very worst fears. Instinctually her hand went to her body curving protectively over the spot where her baby lay.
‘At that price!’
What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? It was no good turning to Ruth. Her sister-in-law had considered that she was being generous enough letting her stay on until now. She wouldn’t hesitate to throw her out just as soon as the house sold.
‘It’s a bargain, you see—not been kept up to scratch; needing renovations. People like that sort of thing and—’
‘Coffee?’
The question came from behind them, making Emily start nervously. When had Vito come out of the kitchen, and how much had he heard? Just the thought made her hand shake as she turned to reach up for the cup.
‘That is for Signor McKenzie,’ Vito told her. ‘I brought water for you.’
‘I can make up my own mind about what I drink!’ Emily protested, furious at the way he had made the decision for her.
‘You want to be ill?’
The brilliant grey eyes challenged her coldly, daring her to question his authority.
‘I saw how you were earlier. A coffee won’t suit you any better now. However if you want to be sick…’
He held the coffee-cup out towards her.
If anything was guaranteed to make her concede, that was it. She might try for bravado to make sure that he didn’t trample all over her but actually drinking coffee was quite beyond her. Just the thought of it made her feel decidedly queasy. But she played the game a moment or two longer, ta
king the cup deliberately before turning to pass it on to Joe and accept the glass of water instead.
A moment later she was intensely grateful she had because nothing could stop a jolting reaction of total shock that would have sent hot coffee flying everywhere when Vito came and sat beside her on the settee and, placing his own cup securely on the table in front of him, asked in a voice so calm and matter-of-fact that he might have been wanting to know the price of bread, ‘So will your client accept a private arrangement, Signor McKenzie?’
‘What?’
Not believing what she had heard, Emily turned to face him, anxious eyes searching his face to see just what he was talking about, because he couldn’t mean what she thought he did—he just couldn’t. But Vito totally ignored her shock and bewilderment, concentrating instead on Joe McKenzie, directing all his attention to the other man.
‘I’ll pay the asking price—include your commission as well—but only if we agree on the deal now, and the house doesn’t even go on the market.’
‘Vito!’ Emily tried to protest, tried to intervene. This couldn’t be real—it wasn’t happening.
But Vito simply held up one hand in a gesture to silence her, not even looking in her direction, but keeping his dark-eyed gaze fixed on the man before him.
‘Do we have a deal?’
‘You want to buy this house?’
Joe looked every bit as dumbfounded as Emily felt, his expression growing even more bewildered as Vito inclined his dark head in agreement.
‘That’s exactly what I want. But only on those terms.’
‘But—can I ask why?’
Vito shrugged a negligent dismissal of the question as unimportant.
‘I need a base in England. I came on the inspection of the house with you—and I liked what I saw. I think this house will suit me perfectly.’
‘It’s a big house for a single man…’
‘Ah, but I’m planning on getting married soon.’
Married. The word sounded like a death knell inside Emily’s head and it was only when it did that she admitted to herself that somewhere deep inside there had been some tiny, silly, stupid little bit of her that had actually hoped…
