by India Grey
‘I know,’ she said softly, spreading butter on the croissant. ‘But by the time I found that out I’d already realised that you were different.’
‘How do you mean different?’
Her skin had been slightly flushed from the bath, but now the colour deepened, concentrating itself into two patches on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes met his, their clear blue depths shadowed.
‘Harder. Colder. More ruthless.’
Cristiano leaned back in his chair, dragging his gaze away from her face and fixing it on the office block on the other side of the street.
‘You flatter me,’ he drawled. ‘The truth is I’ve always been like that.’
For a long moment she didn’t say anything, though out of the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head, slowly and deliberately.
‘Not really.’ There was a note of sadness in her voice. ‘Not underneath.’
Adrenaline leapt through his system, making his vision darken for a second as his head filled with a thousand stinging responses to that utterly misguided statement. Gesu, if only she knew what he was really like underneath she wouldn’t want to be his bowling partner, never mind the mother of his child.
‘If you thought that, why did it take you so long to get in touch?’ he demanded scathingly.
‘I had tried before. When I was a few months pregnant I came to Monaco, thinking I’d be able to see you and tell you.’ The croissant still lay untouched on her plate, and she was holding the knife in her hand, turning it over and over. Twisting it, he thought with a flash of bleak humour. ‘Stupid, wasn’t I? For two days I stood outside the hospital with all your other fans, waiting to catch a glimpse of your PA or your team boss on their way in or out. I even humiliated myself completely by giving my name to a security guard in the hope that you’d left instructions for me to be allowed in. The man almost laughed in my face.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I left a letter at the hospital before I went home, and I wrote again when Alexander was born, and sent it straight to your house.’
‘My PA handles all my post,’ he said flatly, getting to his feet. Time was running out, and he knew that he had to keep his promise and take her back to the hospital soon. Running a restless hand through his hair, he tried to keep the impatience from his tone. ‘Why didn’t you tell me when we were at the chalet?’
She stood up too, raising her chin and saying defiantly, ‘Because I realised very early on that it was useless. You don’t want a family—you said that yourself. And although I knew that was true when I met you, I hoped I might have been able to change your mind.’
‘To change me,’ he said bitterly. ‘All the time we were together you were testing me, privately making up your mind whether I was good enough to be allowed into my son’s life.’
The simple truth of that hit him with all the force of an express train, knocking the breath from his lungs. She had judged him and found him lacking. And the thing was, he couldn’t blame her.
He remembered her telling him of her question about wanting a child to carry on the Maresca name and reputation, and knew exactly why he would have answered it so unequivocally. He knew only too well how futile it was to place any expectations on your children—how cruel it was to make them carry their parents’ dreams.
She shook her head vehemently. ‘That’s not true. I didn’t want to put you in a position you clearly didn’t want to be in. I didn’t just want Alexander to have a father. I wanted him to have a family.’
There was something unbearably touching about the way she said it. Cristiano got to his feet. Frowning, he looked out of the window.
‘He still can.’
There was a small silence. On the street below a siren wailed.
‘How?’ she asked quietly. ‘What are you saying?’
Cristiano turned back to look at her, keeping his expression neutral. ‘That we can give him that. I’m asking you to marry me.’
Chapter Ten
MARRY ME.
On paper, those words coming from the beautiful lips of Cristiano Maresca should have made her want to scream with joy and throw herself into his arms. They should have made her yell yes without a moment’s hesitation, and have her running to the nearest bridal shop to lose herself in racks of ivory satin and lace.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
‘Well?’
Cristiano’s voice was cool and almost mocking. Which said it all, really.
‘Marry you…’ she echoed hollowly, staring up at him in disbelief. ‘As in properly…for real?’
‘Is there any other way to get married?’
‘I don’t mean that. I mean…’
‘To have and to hold, from this day forward,’ he said scornfully. ‘If you’re asking if it’ll be some kind of fairytale happy-ever-after, then the answer to that is probably no. I’m not talking about the soft focus bit at the end of a romantic movie. I’m talking about providing Alexander with a stable base, security—two parents living under the same roof, bringing him up together.’
Security. Together. Like arrows, those words went straight into the heart of her. The man she’d loved with every beat of her heart for four years was standing in front of her, offering the things she’d always craved.
Or some of them, anyway. The kind of marriage he meant seemed to have one or two significant elements missing.
‘To have and to hold from this day forward?’ she whispered hoarsely, getting to her feet and tucking her hands down into the pockets of the voluminous robe. ‘But what about the other things, Cristiano? What about forsaking all others? Are you going to give up your one-night stands with the paddock club hostesses and the PR girls?’
‘That would be up to you. It depends what kind of marriage you want it to be. I can’t live like a monk.’
‘So sh-sharing a bed would be part of the deal?’
‘Only if you wanted it to be.’ In contrast to her, he sounded completely offhand, as if he was discussing some trivial aspect of his Clearspring sponsorship. ‘I may be guilty of many things, but forcing myself on an unwilling woman isn’t one of them.’
Kate didn’t imagine for a moment that it was a situation he’d ever encountered.
He took a step towards her, brushing a stray strand of hair off her face with a fingertip. ‘Do you want it to be part of the deal?’ he asked softly.
‘No!’ His touch scorched her, bringing her back to her senses. This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. What she’d vowed to avoid. Backing away from him, she raised her head defiantly, pulling the robe more tightly around her. ‘Thank you for your offer, but the answer is no. When I get married I want it to be for the right reasons. For love, not for practicality.’
His lip curled in a sneer of disdain, as if she’d just said something unbelievably childish. ‘In that case I’d better get in touch with my solicitor to work out some kind of formal arrangement for me to see Alexander.’
He pronounced it Alessander, Kate noticed distantly. A mixture of Italian and English—which was what Alexander was going to be from now on. A child with two homes, two lives. Two parents—but not in a good way.
‘Is that really necessary? You’ll be going away soon—back to M-Monaco, or wherever, to race.’
It was a long shot, she knew that. But she also knew how deep Cristiano’s passion for racing went. It was her best hope.
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m a racing driver. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a father too.’
‘But what kind of father?’ Inside the pockets of the robe Kate’s fingernails were digging into her palms. She felt as if she was pleading for her life. ‘What kind of security can you give a child when you put your neck on the line for a living?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What exactly are you afraid of, Kate?’
She gave a humourless laugh, as if to acknowledge that she understood how stupid it was going to sound. ‘That he’ll just get to know you and he’ll lose you.’
>
Cristiano’s voice was ominously quiet. ‘So you think he’s better off not knowing me at all?’
‘Yes.’
The smile he gave her was chilling. ‘You don’t know what it’s like not to know your father.’
‘No,’ Kate gasped, struggling to hang onto her last shreds of control. ‘But I know what it’s like to know him and adore him and think he’s invincible, and then to have him snatched away from you like that!’
She snapped her fingers, blinking back tears. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the robe. By contrast he was glacially calm.
‘Even more reason to get some formal arrangement in place, then.’
Kate took in a deep breath, holding it for a second until her lungs burned. Then she let it out slowly, trying to steady herself for a last attempt at reasoning with him.
‘Please, Cristiano. Think about it. You can’t just walk into his life and then disappear again. It wouldn’t be fair on him.’
Cristiano looked at her. Her hair was almost dry now, and in the weak sunlight it gleamed like spun gold. Distantly he was aware of a steady pulse of desire, but desire he could deal with. It was the complicated mix of emotions that this girl seemed to arouse in him that was far more problematic.
His solicitor was excellent. He could hand the matter over to him and keep emotion out of it entirely. It was a legal matter. A matter of rights.
Wasn’t it?
Suddenly he was aware of how long it had been since he’d last slept. ‘I think you mean,’ he said tonelessly, ‘it wouldn’t be fair on you.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘You want him to yourself.’
‘No, I—’
‘I’m not criticising you, Kate,’ he interrupted wearily. He was too tired to play games any more, and the issue at stake was too important. He’d never really given much thought to the idea of having a child, his own miserable childhood having made him feel that it wasn’t something he’d want. But now it had happened, he realised he did. Very much. ‘I’m not blaming you—you’ve done this on your own for three years and it can’t have been easy. I just want you to know that I’m not going to go along with it either. I’m not going to walk away. So now, when you’re dressed, it’s time to go back to the hospital. I’d like to meet my son.’
‘I don’t want him to know who you are yet,’ Kate said in a low voice as they waited to be let back in through the security door to the children’s ward.
Cristiano looked down on her, one eyebrow arched in sardonic enquiry. ‘Do you mean that I’m a racing driver or his father?’ he asked blandly. ‘I can’t decide which you think is worse.’
‘Both, now you come to mention it. But I meant that I don’t want you to tell him you’re his father. It’s too soon. Too sudden. Especially when he’s been ill.’
A voice crackled over the intercom, telling them to go in. Kate kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as they walked along the corridor—outwardly like two ordinary parents going to visit their sick child together. Her heart was beginning to beat uncomfortably hard at the prospect of what lay ahead.
As they passed the desk Kate noticed that the two nurses who, a moment before had had their heads bent together over a file of notes looked up, mouths open, their eyes following Cristiano as if they were a couple of starving stray dogs and he was the butcher. Irritation fizzed inside her.
‘He’s also quite shy with people he doesn’t know—particularly men—so don’t expect too much,’ she snapped.
The door to Alexander’s room was in sight now, and as they got closer she quickened her steps, feeling a strong urge to run ahead along the corridor and gather him up into her arms, holding him tight so that no one could take him away from her.
‘I won’t.’
She reached the doorway a little before Cristiano. Alexander was sitting up, and he and Lizzie had their heads bent together over the racing car book which lay open on the bed. Some of the machines had been taken away, Kate realised, and the room looked bigger, less alarming.
Lizzie looked up as she came in.
‘You’re back!’ she said, her face breaking into a smile. ‘And you look so much better! How did it—?’
She stopped abruptly as Cristiano appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened.
‘Lizzie, this is Cristiano Maresca. Cristiano—Lizzie Hill.’
He moved forward, his hand outstretched, his face perfectly grave except for a faint smile.
‘Molto piacere, Lizzie.’
Lizzie was blushing, Kate noticed disgustedly. Confident, sassy, in control Lizzie had fallen instantly under Cristiano’s spell just like everyone else, and was blushing like a schoolgirl. Luckily Cristiano turned his attention to Alexander before she actually swooned.
‘And you must be—’
Alexander was looking at him steadily with dark, unblinking eyes. Before Cristiano could finish he said, very clearly, ‘Man in the car.’
Kate went over to the bed. ‘What’s that, sweetheart?’
Alexander kept his eyes fixed on Cristiano, as if he expected him to disappear at any moment. ‘Man in the car. In my book.’
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again. She wasn’t sure that either of them would hear her anyway. Alexander was still staring up at Cristiano with solemn, fascinated eyes, and Cristiano was looking right back.
The expression on his face took her breath away.
‘I’m Cristiano.’
‘From the car. See…?’ Dropping his gaze, Alexander began turning the pages of the book Lizzie had brought him until he came to a huge photograph, spread across two pages, of a green sports car. The driver was quite clearly Cristiano.
Cristiano lowered himself gently onto the edge of the bed, leaning in to see the book. Kate turned away, closing eyes that stung with sudden tears, but the image of the two dark heads so close together seemed to have burned itself onto her retinas.
Oh, God—this was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? So why did it hurt so much?
‘Yes, that’s my car.’ The deep, dark Italian voice reached her through the darkness like a caress. ‘Do you like cars?’
‘Yes,’ Alexander said quickly. Kate opened her eyes in time to see him reach for the red car Dominic had given him for Christmas from on top of the bedside locker. ‘I got lots of cars. This is my Spider.’
Very gently Cristiano took it from him, holding it in his beautiful brown hand. Turning it round reverently, he examined it for a long time. Kate and Lizzie were both watching, spellbound. ‘Magnifico,’ he said gravely, handing it back. ‘I wish I had a Spider.’
Alexander took it, an expression of fierce pride on his face. ‘What car do you have?’ he asked.
‘A Campano. At the moment I have the new CX8. I’ve been testing it.’
His eyes met Kate’s, and a meteor shower of dazzling sensation exploded in her pelvis.
On the bed, Alexander gave a little bounce of excitement. ‘Can I go in it?’
There was a pause. Kate seemed to have forgotten about breathing. Cristiano’s gaze was still holding hers, and the intensity of unreadable emotion in it made her feel as if she wanted to shield her eyes. It was such a contrast with the remote, businesslike stranger in the hotel that for a second she felt hope leap inside her.
And then he was turning away, back to Alexander, a slow, heartbreaking smile spreading over his face.
‘Yes,’ he said, his voice a deep rasp. ‘Yes, of course. If your mamma says you can. When you’re better.’
‘Can I, Mummy? Can I? Can I?’ Alexander piped, looking up at her with his face alight with excitement.
And in that moment Kate understood that she had lost him. Or rather that there had been a part of her son that had never been hers.
Chapter Eleven
‘AND SO I thought I’d leave Dominic and join the Moscow State Circus as a naked trapeze artist. What do you think?’
‘Hmm. That’s good.’
/> Dully, Kate pushed a mass of pulped tomatoes through a sieve to get rid of the pips. Making soup had seemed like a good idea when she started, but somewhere along the line she seemed to have lost interest. Or energy. Or both.
From the next room the theme tune to one of Alexander and Ruby’s favourite television shows started up. Lizzie got up from where she’d been sitting at the table and came to stand beside her.
‘OK. I’ll try not to take it personally that you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said for the last half-hour. The kids are going to be glued to the television for the next twenty minutes, so how about you stop doing that and tell me how you are?’
Kate looked up, blinking. ‘I’m fine.’
Lizzie raised her eyebrows sceptically. ‘Come off it, Kate. Since Alexander came out of hospital you’ve been like a cat on hot bricks, which is perfectly understandable given what you’ve been through.’ She set her mug down on the draining board with a sigh. ‘I just wish you’d talk about it, though. Dominic and I are worried about you.’
Where have I heard that before? Kate thought sourly. The new, bitter and twisted Kate Edwards who had taken over the body of the old one couldn’t quite forgive Lizzie and Dominic for starting all this in the first place. If it hadn’t been for their concern last time, life would be carrying on as normal now.
‘You mustn’t worry,’ she said wearily to Lizzie. ‘I’m worrying enough for the whole of Yorkshire at the moment.’
‘About Alexander?’
‘Mostly. I keep checking him for signs of a fever or mystery rashes. I go in and check if he’s breathing several times a night.’
Lizzie made a sympathetic clucking sound and laid a hand on Kate’s arm. ‘That’s entirely normal after he was so ill. And of course the situation with Cristiano doesn’t help. Have you heard from him since he went back to Monaco?’
Kate flinched. ‘No. And as the Grand Prix season is about to start I’m not expecting to hear anything for months. I half expected a letter from his solicitor, but maybe the fact I haven’t had one means he’s lost interest in being a father.’
