‘I am a cold-blooded and arrogant bastard.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Or so I have been told more times than I can remember, and deservedly so. Don’t you understand the truth of what I’m saying to you, Flora?’
Somehow Flora met the regretful look in his eyes without flinching, even though her heart felt as if it was shattering into a million pieces. Perhaps he wanted her to flounce out and start packing in a dramatic and pride-salvaging way—that would certainly provide him with an easy let-out clause. But she owed it to their baby to strive for more than that and she owed it to herself too. Because hadn’t she grown to love this unconventional and infuriating man—no matter how much she tried not to, nor how hard he tried to push her away?
‘Can’t we at least give it a go, Vito?’ she questioned simply. ‘For all our sakes? For what it’s worth, I think those signs of cold-bloodedness and arrogance are becoming increasingly rare—’
‘And you think that has something to do with you, do you?’ he demanded dangerously.
‘Why don’t you ask yourself the same question?’ she enquired patiently. ‘I know I have. I think we’re good for each other.’ She sucked in a deep breath, knowing it was now or never. And yes, this was laying her feelings on the line with a risk of getting hurt—and risk was something she had spent her life avoiding. But some things were worth abandoning your long-held fears for. Wouldn’t it be a pyric victory if she walked away now, without telling Vito how she really felt? What price pride or dignity, if she spent the rest of her life feeling miserable because she hadn’t dared fight for the man she loved?
‘I actually think we might have the basis for a real relationship, and not just the friends-with-benefits thing,’ she continued, in a low voice. ‘I’ve seen the layer of goodness you try to hide beneath your grumpy exterior. Most of the time you make me very happy and I don’t think I’m mistaken in saying that you seem quite happy too. I also happen to think you’d make a great dad, Vito. I really do. You’re strong and funny and clever.’ She sucked in an unsteady breath. ‘I think we could build a life together—a good life—and if you lifted the blinkers from your eyes, you might realise that too.’
How long did it take for hope to be extinguished?
Only a few seconds, Flora discovered.
As long as it took for that ice-blue gaze to freeze over and for those sensual lips to harden into a cruel and forbidding line. That’s when she accepted what an utter fool she’d been.
There was a long pause before he spoke and when he did, it was in a voice Flora hadn’t heard for a long time. Not since he’d started at Verdenergia last Christmas and ruthlessly pared back the ailing organisation. When he’d got rid of the festive decorations, along with all the things which weren’t working properly—and now he was doing exactly the same to her.
‘I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,’ he said in response to her heartfelt statement, shrugging his broad shoulders and extending the palms of his hands, as if he were offering her the world. ‘I can offer you pragmatism, but not permanence.’
‘Excuse me?’ she said faintly.
‘You can have whatever you want, Flora. A house in London. A holiday home too, if you like. As many staff as you think it will take to make your life run smoothly. And a maternity nurse—I gather that’s a thing? You will have a generous allowance and I will put a trust into place for the child,’ he continued, when she didn’t reply.
He was regarding her coolly as if waiting for a response and the only thing Flora wanted to say was—it’sourchild, notthechild! But that would be spiteful and emotionally manipulative—and hadn’t he already experienced enough of that to last him a lifetime?
She bit her lip with frustration and pain. She didn’t doubt that she and the baby would thrive without him because she would make sure of that. She’d always been strong because she’d had no choice and she would continue to be strong. Yet maybe she owed it to Vito Monticello to call him out for his behaviour, otherwise he might just get to thinking it was acceptable? ‘You think you can just outsource everything, don’t you, Vito?’ she demanded, in a low, shaking voice. ‘That if you throw enough money at something, it will all go away. But deep down, you’re a coward.’
‘A coward?’ he bit out furiously. ‘How dare you say this to me?’
‘I dare because it’s true! Think about it!’ she flared back. ‘You can just buy your way out of this situation and make the baby go away. You can file us neatly away in a box calledunwanted family, but I can’t do that. I don’t want to, but even if I did—I don’t have a choice!’ She gave a bitter laugh, because somehow that was managing to keep the tears at bay. ‘But at least this way I’m free to nurture and love this innocent little scrap without you. I won’t need to worry about being openly demonstrative, or commit the heinous crime of actually showing Icareabout you. Maybe I reallyshouldthank you, Vito,’ she added steadily. ‘Maybe you’ve done me and our baby a big favour.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘SO…’ FLORA CAREFULLYmanoeuvred the camera-phone and did a panoramic shot. ‘This is the garden. Quite a big plot for a London garden.’
‘No way! It looks more like Kew Gardens!’ Amy’s voice boomed down the line, sounding as if she were in the same room rather than ten thousand miles away. ‘Flo—it’s absolutely gorgeous! And you’ve even gotstaff.’
‘Well, only a housekeeper,’ said Flora, using words which wouldn’t have been part of her vocabulary a few short months ago. ‘I’m very lucky.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t gothatfar,’ said Amy gloomily.
‘Verylucky,’ emphasised Flora firmly. Because she was not going to hear a single bad word said against Vito. He was still the father of her child and he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He just hadn’t been the man she had wanted him to be. If any blame was to be apportioned—then maybe she should accept her fair share, for having had unrealistic expectations. He had never wanted to be a father, but he had done the best he could in the circumstances. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go,’ she said, with a glance at her watch. ‘I want to go for a walk while it’s still light, but before that I’ve got somecanestrelliin the oven which needs rescuing.’
‘Come again?’
‘They’re those Italian biscuits which I’ve learnt how to make.’
‘I’m not even going to ask why you’re cooking Italian food.’
‘Because I’m taking them to the Babies and Bumps group later.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Amy darkly.
‘I know it wasn’t. But whatever has happened between me and Vito, I’m not going to deny this baby his or her Italian heritage,’ agreed Flora airily. ‘Call you tomorrow?’
‘Sure.’
