The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand. Sara Craven
curled cynically. ‘I’ve had many suitable women paraded in front of me. Not one did I want to take as my wife.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I couldn’t feel with them what I’d felt with you, Skye.’
‘That’s gone,’ she said defensively, frightened of him sensing her vulnerability to the strong attraction that should have died…but hadn’t.
He didn’t reply. He simply looked at her, making her skin crawl over the lie she had spoken. But she would not take it back, couldn’t afford to take it back. How could she ever trust him again with her heart?
‘Yes, what we once had is gone,’ he finally agreed, the regret in his voice hitting her hard as he added, ‘And the fault was mine in not believing your word against Roberto’s. It’s true we’ve occupied different worlds and that, too, was part of it. You might have come after me to pursue the truth if I’d been more accessible to you.’
No. She’d been too crushed to attempt a fighting pursuit. The memory of how he’d looked at her, how he’d spoken to her, how he’d rejected her so utterly…even now, everything within her cringed from it. And knowing his family was behind the deception had added immeasurably to her sense of absolute defeat. Luc was right about that.
He cocked his head consideringly. ‘I wonder how you would have reacted, shown photos of your sister—if you had one—on top of a man who looked like me, a man who was wearing a distinctive watch which you’d given me, and had a very personal identification mark—a man your sister swore was me. Would you have believed my denial, Skye?’
It was difficult to think herself into the turn-around scenario but in fairness to him, she tried to focus on it. Would she have believed a denial, knowing how attractive he was—rich, handsome, any woman’s dream? Would she have believed he was hers and hers alone, given a sister’s sworn word—and photographic evidence—that he’d been intimate with her, too? Wouldn’t her insecurities about his family background have whispered to her that he was arrogantly having fun with both sisters?
‘The difference is… I would have fought the accusation, far beyond what you did,’ Luc said quietly, a wry sadness in his eyes. ‘Though I certainly don’t blame you for not trying. The simple truth is I had the resources to fight and you didn’t. Which was what my family counted on. You didn’t have the power or the money to find the photographer or the woman who looked like you, to prove your innocence. So my family won. And we lost something very special. I lost most of all. What we had together…and my child.’
Regardless of the heat in the air around them, her skin broke out in goose-bumps…as though ghosts of what might have been were wafting over the graveyard of their love. The poignant sense of loss squeezed her heart unbearably. She wrenched her gaze from his and stared out at Botany Bay, fiercely telling herself this was all water under the bridge. They couldn’t go back. They couldn’t change anything. And what they once had was gone. They were different people now. Time and experience had moved them even further apart.
‘Is it fair for you to insist I keep losing, Skye?’ he appealed.
‘You made a choice,’ she cried, fighting not to be drawn into making emotional concessions. Steeling herself to maintain a shield around the vulnerability he could still touch, she swung her gaze back to his. ‘Do you think I’m ever going to forget your choice, Luc?’
‘No.’ He heaved a rueful sigh. ‘I was hoping you might understand it.’
‘I do. I always did.’
‘And possibly…forgive it?’
‘That, too.’
‘Then…?’
‘It’s an issue of trust. I don’t want you or your family anywhere near my son. I don’t trust any of you to be fair. If you’d been fair to me, Luc, you would have investigated Roberto’s claims. You admit you had the resources to do so.’
‘Yes, in hindsight, I wish I’d done that. It makes me even more conscious of the need to be fair now. What good purpose would it serve to alienate you…the only parent my son has known? And clearly loves.’
Her chin lifted in pride. ‘Matt and I do have a very special closeness. Why can’t you just leave us alone, Luc? You walked away from me. Walk away from him, too. Go and forget we even exist. We’ll all be happier that way.’
‘No.’ His chin lifted in hard aggression and the sudden gleam of ruthlessness in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. ‘I will not remain the loser where he is concerned. I’ll fight for visitation rights if I have to. I’ll drag this whole business through the lawcourts if I have to, and I will spare no one along the way. I don’t care what it takes. I will be part of my son’s life.’
The waves of relentless purpose coming from him were warning enough that her worst fears could come true. Her chest felt so tight, it was as though Luc had just wrapped steel bands around it. No room to breathe. Nowhere to move.
‘You can choose to make this a hostile battleground and put us all through hell,’ he went on, making a flippant gesture towards the park bench. ‘Or you can choose to sit down with me and discuss how Matt could benefit by having his father in his life.’
There was no choice and he knew it. The kind of fight he was threatening would be terribly damaging to Matt.
‘What will it be, Skye?’
He was demanding a trust she couldn’t give, but maybe he would earn it if he truly had Matt’s best interests at heart.
‘Of one thing you can be absolutely certain,’ he said, mocking the turmoil of doubts in her mind. ‘This time…this time…nothing on earth will make me walk away!’
CHAPTER FIVE
SATURDAY… Matt’s first day with his father.
Luc instantly made the most of his arrival, turning up in a red Alfa hatchback, presenting Skye with the car keys and announcing, much to Matt’s delight, that the car was for his Mummy, so she could drive him to soccer training during the week and matches on the weekend.
An expensive Italian car, not a cheap runaround which would have been far more suitable. The house they lived in did not have a garage attached. The car had to be left parked in the street and a red Alfa would stick out like a sore thumb in this neighbourhood. But did a Peretti think like that? No. And she hadn’t thought to advise Luc sensibly when he’d insisted she needed her own transport for the activities his son would want to pursue.
Like soccer. Matt’s friends at school were signing up for soccer today. Skye hadn’t driven a car since her mother had died and the Alfa made her nervous, not to mention having Luc sitting beside her in the front passenger seat. Somehow she managed to get them to the football oval without doing anything stupid.
Luc took care of the signing up. Skye gritted her teeth over the pride in Matt’s voice as he announced to his play-mates, ‘This is my father.’
So far he’d been quite shy with Luc, wary of what this new intrusion in his life might mean, not quite understanding the background and sensing Skye’s fearful reservations. But even a little boy could see that the other boys’ fathers did not match up to Luc Peretti, certainly not in looks, and not in authoritative and charismatic presence.
They were exchanging smiles now.
With a sinking heart, Skye realised there’d be no stopping an attachment forming. Luc was intent on it and Matt was responding.
He’d better not walk away, she thought fiercely. If he ever hurt Matt as he’d hurt her… Skye took a deep breath and unclenched her hands. It was impossible to fight this. All she could do was watch over it, which she had insisted upon. No way would she agree to Luc taking Matt anywhere without her, and nowhere that didn’t have her approval. To her intense relief he had made those concessions.
For now, she added to herself.