He had got to that position by dint of sacrifice but he was very well aware that deep down, buried under the self-assurance that was so much a part and parcel of his powerful personality, lay uneasy guilt.
He’d been married at twenty-six and divorced by thirty. Bianca had been descended from Italian royalty, and a far cry from people of his own background, which had been rooted in poverty. She had been flamboyant, beautiful, and demanding of attention. But he had put work first. Where she had wanted parties and social events and opportunities to parade her voluptuous beauty, he had given her diamonds and pearls and turned his back on her needs. He had done what he had always done best and focused on his empire, leaving her to drift into the arms of another man.
Who could blame her? was the thought that sometimes kept him awake in the early hours of the morning. The tough Brooklyn kid who had seen work as his passport to freedom had proved more resilient than the wealthy, urbane empire builder she had fallen for and signed up to.
Worse was the realisation that he had beenrelievedthat the marriage had crashed and burned, and the realisation that he had found her intensely annoying almost from day one.
But he refused to allow his daughter to become a casualty of the divorce, so he played by the rules set out for him, driven by guilt and uncertain how far he could push his luck, given his lifestyle, which would never change.
It was a mess.
Even more of a mess now.
He surfaced to hear his daughter whispering that Nanny Bella wasn’t feeling very well.
Gabriel stilled. He half-turned and shot a sideways look at Izzy, who appeared to be consumed with interest in a business magazine that had been lying on the walnut table in front of the sofa, studiously ignoring the drama being played out, despite her initial curiosity.
‘Ill?’ Was there a germ on this planet equipped to get past the woman’s suit of armour? he wondered.
Yet, illness or not, where the hell was she? This was the first time Rosa had ever ventured out of her bedroom while Bella was on officious duty.
He hesitated, torn between releasing his iron control over his private life and asking Izzy to keep an eye on Rosa and carrying his impressionable daughter up with him to find out what was going on.
‘Would you mind...?’ He led Rosa across the room and paused as Izzy looked up at him. ‘My daughter...’ he said heavily, raking his fingers through his dark hair and briefly glancing away. ‘Some situation with her nanny...’
‘I’m Rosa,’ Rosa helpfully piped up, stretching out her hand. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Izzy.’
‘I love your hair.’
Izzy smiled and met Gabriel’s midnight-black eyes. ‘It’s fine. I’ll stay here with your daughter if you want to go and see what’s happened to the nanny.’
He didn’t want to do that. Izzy could see reluctance stamped all over his lean, dark face. He hadn’t expected his daughter to barge in just when he’d been about to send her on her way, and he certainly hadn’t expected to end up having to leave her in the room while he went to find out what was going on with the errant nanny in his employ.
He’d been put in an unenviable position. Izzy suspected that he was the sort of guy who was in love with self-control, so being put in unenviable positions would be very low down the list of things he appreciated.
She couldn’t help but feel an uncharitable twinge of satisfaction that he had been temporarily waylaid.
It had taken every ounce of willpower to try and bury herself in the boring business magazine lying on the table in front of her. She had picked it up because her innate politeness had forbidden her from ogling the beautiful child who had entered the room with too much overt curiosity, or marvelling that a man who was made of ice could actually be a dad, and a very affectionate and loving one from the looks of it.
The cardboard cut-out, one-dimensional picture she had had in her head no longer seemed quite so straightforward.
‘What are you doing here?’
Izzy grinned, liking Rosa’s precociousness. She was a stunning child, with long, dark hair tucked behind her ears, an olive complexion and huge, dark eyes. She was in her pyjamas, which involved a lot of coloured dinosaurs clamouring over highly patterned terrain. Izzy approved. In her hand were a few sheets of paper.
‘What have you got here?’ Izzy asked, with interest.
‘Drawings. For Dad.’ She held them out and Izzy spent a few minutes admiring the art work and making the right appreciative noises while with one ear she listened out for returning footsteps on the wooden floor.
‘Are you here for the weekend?’ She smiled and reached for the crayon in Rosa’s hand without thinking.
‘Three weeks. Mom’s gone to the house in Tuscany and Dad’s got me while she’s away.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s his turn. I prefer being with dad anyway, even if he’s at work a lot.’
‘And Bella is the girl who looks after you?’
None of my business, Izzy was thinking as her hand skimmed absently on the blank space on the paper, doodling one of the dinosaurs on Rosa’s pyjamas, giving it expression, movement and an outfit.I’m here to do a job, to sort out Evelyn. This man is unscrupulous and the last thing I need is to get involved in his family dynamic...
