‘You have a problem with that?’
‘I just think it’s a bit early in the day to be putting it on the table.’
‘Why?’
‘Because…’ She looked at him with consternation, hardly aware that he was wrapping her scarf round her neck and handing her the woolly hat that she had dumped on the table. She absently stuck it on and continued to gaze at him as she formulated something that resembled a reasonable explanation as to why she was so bothered at the thought of him with another woman.
‘I believe that a child needs to have the benefit of a mother and a father.’
‘So do I.’
‘Ah, but key difference here—I won’t be on an endless quest to find a suitable partner I’m in love with who can fit the bill. I don’t believe that love is the be all and end all. In fact, when I think about it…’ he slotted her arm into the crook of his and began ushering her out of the restaurant ‘…if you look at the divorce rate between people who declare undying love on their wedding day, only to relegate that to undying indifference or everlasting resentment a decade later, well, the statistics say it all.
‘My driver is waiting. I think I’ll get rid of him so we can drive together to your house and I can meet your father.’
‘My parents were blissfully happy.’
‘That’s called the exception to the rule.’
‘Your parents…?’
‘Still together.’
‘Which just shows…’
‘Ella.’ Rocco stopped and looked down at her, breaking contact and shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. ‘My parents’ marriage was a business deal that brought together two important houses. They stayed together because they both understood how the world they inherited worked. They knew the rules.’
‘You say stuff like that, Rocco, and I’m talking to a complete stranger.’
‘Only when it comes to the details of my life,’ Rocco said gruffly. ‘One thing I do know is that, yes, I would want a wife by my side with a child in the equation.’ He paused, giving her time to digest the scenario he was painting for her.
‘A wife who comes from the same class as you?Knows the rules, like your mother did?’
‘Preferably a wife who is the mother of my child but, failing that, then yes, quite possibly.’
Ella’s mouth went dry. She felt jealousy, and she didn’t know where that was coming from, because surely she should hate him? Hadn’t he lied to her? Why would you be jealous of someone who’d lied to you, someone you justifiably hated? Yet if there was hatred there then it was well and truly swamped by the steady thump of possessiveness that coursed through her. Besides, the way he was now—the man willing to accept a situation he could never have banked on; the guy who still had that flare of fairness and consideration inside him—was no convenient cardboard cutout, easy for her to dismiss…
‘I… I don’t know anything about your parents. How do you think they’ll react?’ This to sidestep the rush of emotion inside her.
‘That’s something I haven’t yet considered. I’m still in the process of trying to come to terms with the situation myself. Don’t forget you’ve had a head start on me.’
‘Not my fault I couldn’t locate you!’ This felt safer, and she broke eye contact, but her heart was still thudding as she clocked the sleek, black Range Rover idling on the other side of the road.
Rocco thought it best to steer her away from picking back up that line of attack. He’d given her food for thought. It was clear she didn’t approve of the thought of another woman stepping into his life, and she certainly had a point when she’d said that it was a bit early to paint a future that involved other partners, but all was fair in love and war.
He wondered whether she wasjealous, and then was surprised at the kick that gave him. The thought of her with another man didn’t sit well with him. Was that jealousy or was it just that he was the sort of guy who could never like the thought of another man adopting a fatherly role to his offspring? He’d never had a jealous bone in his body but when he thought of Ella in the arms of someone else…
‘Do you want to give your father some warning that I’ll be coming along?’
‘Maybe this isn’t a good idea.’
‘It’s a very good idea.’ He dismissed his driver and helped her into the passenger seat but held open the door, maintaining his calm. As far as Rocco was concerned, there were still a million practicalities to pin down, but he would let those wait for the time being.
A place for her to live? He would bide his time.
A car of her choice? In due course.
The details of maintenance? A bridge to be crossed.
