Keeping Her Close: In Christofides' Keeping / The Call of the Desert / The Legend of de Marco. ABBY GREEN
‘This.’
‘You’re not making sense, woman. How can your present situation be better than what I could have offered?’
At that moment Rico had a vivid insight into how it might have been. The shock of finding out that Gypsy was pregnant, but then coming to terms with it. He would never have had to wonder about her. He would have had her in his bed all this time, to sate himself until he was done with her. A curious sense of loss assailed him.
They could have worked out some mutual arrangement with Lola…But even as he thought that, he knew he wouldn’t be happy with a mutual arrangement. Things had escalated way beyond that now. Gypsy owed him. He’d missed out on fifteen months of his daughter’s life. His daughter looked at him as if he was a stranger because he was.
He fought not to be distracted by remembering the illicit thrill which had run through him to hear Gypsy’s admission that she hadn’t slept with anyone else since him—that he’d been her only one-night stand. She’d been slightly gauche and innocent that night, and she’d been so tight around him—almost like a virgin. At that memory a wave of desire engulfed him.
Gypsy’s chin came up and Rico drew on all his control, fought the impulse he had to stride forward and plunder her soft mouth, caress the delicate bones of her jaw.
‘There are plenty of people surviving on a lot less than I. Money isn’t everything, and I didn’t relish the prospect of being hauled through the courts and the tabloids to prove your paternity. It was my decision to have Lola, therefore she’s my responsibility.’
Rico fought back the barrage of questions. He sensed that there was a lot more to it than that. But right now he needed to get them out of this godforsaken place. He would have plenty of time to question Gypsy later. She was proving to be an enigma of monumental proportions, but he had no doubt that despite what she said she had an agenda. Every woman did.
Chapter Five
GYPSY hoped Rico would just take her explanation and leave it at that. She didn’t like the look on his face now, though, it was far too determined. And Lola was being far too quiet.
Gypsy turned her head to see that she was just looking at Rico, with big, watchful eyes, thumb in her mouth. Mrs Murphy, Lola’s minder, had commented plenty of times that Lola was an ‘old soul’.
And then Rico said, ‘Get your things together. You’re coming with me.’
Gypsy’s head whipped around so fast she nearly got whiplash. ‘What?’
‘You heard me.’ Steel ran through his voice. ‘I want you to get whatever you need and pack it up. We’re leaving this place now.’
Gypsy shook her head, panic trickling through her even as the prospect of being whisked away from this flat held undeniable appeal. With anyone but him.
‘I’m not going anywhere with you. We’re not going anywhere.’
Rico folded his arms. ‘Why? Because you’ve got work to go to later?’ He clicked his fingers then, as if remembering something. ‘Oh, but that’s not right, is it? You walked away from your job last night. Not a very responsible thing to do if you’re a single parent, is it?’
Gypsy blanched. She’d forgotten for a moment.
And then, as if thinking of something, Rico asked abruptly, ‘Who was minding Lola last night?’
Immediately Gypsy was defensive. Her hackles rose—he was already sounding far too proprietorial. ‘Mrs Murphy from down the road. She’s a retired qualified childminder who looks after Lola in the evenings for some extra cash.’
He bristled. ‘You leave my daughter with a stranger in this armpit of a street?’
Gypsy bristled right back. ‘She’s not a stranger, she’s a lovely woman, and Lola has always been perfectly safe with her.’ Gypsy’s conscience struck her then. She knew that if she’d had a choice she wouldn’t have been leaving Lola with anyone. ‘And,’ she added hurriedly, ‘Mrs Murphy comes here to mind her, as Lola is usually already down for the night when I go to work.’
‘When you used to go to work,’ Rico amended. He slashed a hand in the air, ‘Here or there, it doesn’t matter. This street is a minefield of drug abuse and gangs. I won’t have you here for one more night.’
Shaking inside, because her worst fears were manifesting themselves, Gypsy said, ‘You can’t just come in here and turn us upside down like this.’
‘Oh?’ Rico sneered. ‘Because you have such a lovely set-up here and such a perfect routine?’ His voice rang with determination. ‘This place is not fit for a dog, much less a small child. You are coming with me and you will stay with me tonight.’
Right then Lola reached up to touch Gypsy’s face, and she could feel how cold her small hands were. Guilt rushed through her. The storage heating still hadn’t come on, and Gypsy knew that even when it did its heat output was not great. Without the supplementary heater things would be bleak, and far colder than usual. It was freezing, it was damp, and she was horribly aware of the leak in the corner—and the fact that Lola had just got over a bad cold.
Rico Christofides couldn’t have picked a worse moment to confront her. Or a better one, she realised bitterly.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Rico asked sharply, his eyes on Lola, who Gypsy could feel getting heavier in her arms.
Weariness struck Gypsy. ‘She’s tired. She didn’t sleep well last night, and she only got a small sleep in the buggy just now.’
Something even more determined crossed Rico’s face then. ‘I will carry you both out of here bodily if that’s what it takes, Gypsy, don’t think I won’t. We have to talk. You owe me this. And I refuse to stay here a moment longer.’
To her utter shame, Gypsy could feel the fight leaving her. She couldn’t in all conscience deny him the chance to talk things over. ‘Where are you proposing to take us?’
‘To my apartment in town. It’s infinitely more comfortable there. I have a housekeeper who can keep an eye on Lola while we talk.’
Feeling as though she was being carried aloft on white water rapids, with the utmost reluctance, Gypsy finally said, ‘OK—fine. We’ll come with you.’
And then things moved with scary swiftness. Gypsy put a drowsy Lola into her buggy while she got together a bag of essentials. She balked at Rico’s assertion that they wouldn’t spend another night here, and resolved to make him see he couldn’t just waltz in and change their lives, but she packed a small suitcase just in case, knowing well that with a small child she couldn’t afford not to be practical.
Finally she was ready, and saw Rico had his coat on again and stood in a wide-legged stance, waiting. He’d asked her about a car seat for Lola, and she’d explained that the buggy seat doubled as one. She’d heard him on his mobile phone, barking out what sounded like orders in Greek. Now he just watched her with cold eyes. So unlike the seductive man who had danced with her in that club that night—not that his effect on her was any less now.
She pushed aside the memory ruthlessly. Her hands were full with bags, and she looked to Lola’s pram.
Before she’d articulated anything he moved and said, ‘I’ll take her. You lock up.’
And before Gypsy could protest or say a word she watched as Rico detached the seat from the buggy frame, as if he’d been doing it all his life, and then lifted the seat up with an ease Gypsy envied. Seeing him cradling the seat with Lola in it made something primal and treacherous rush through her. She wanted to snatch her daughter back from him, and yet her eyes pricked ominously. Gypsy forced the tears aside, knowing that to show any emotion to Rico Christofides would show him weakness—and she couldn’t afford to be weak.
Once the flat door and main door had