Читать книгу The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command - Helen Bianchin - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

SHOCK dilated Taylor’s eyes, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

‘You can’t do that,’ she managed shakily. ‘Such an action would contravene Leon and Casey’s will.’

Dante’s features held a compelling quality, and a chill shiver feathered the length of her spine.

‘Leon’s lawyer is witness to you declining each solution I presented.’ His voice held a silky softness that was totally lacking in arrogance, yet there was a dangerous quality evident beneath the surface. ‘Unless you choose to reverse your decision, you leave me little option but to take the matter to court.’

She didn’t trust herself to speak. At the very least she wanted to hit him, and if a mere look could kill he’d be dead.

‘Such a move would involve time and a large amount of money,’ Dante enlightened smoothly.

She owned her apartment, her car, and was debt-free, thanks to the popularity of her work. But when it came to wealth, Dante d’Alessandri won hands down.

‘Do you particularly want to go that route?’ he pursued silkily. ‘Subject Ben to unwarranted stress and trauma? Fund exhaustive legal fees?’ He waited a beat. ‘What will it achieve, other than an exercise in futility?’

‘Except at the end of the day you win.’ She attempted to keep the faint bitterness out of her voice, and was unsure she succeeded.

His eyes remained steady, inviolate. ‘This is about Ben,’ he reminded quietly. ‘And what’s best for him.’

It didn’t help that he was right. Or that she viewed his threatened alternative of adoption as totally unconscionable.

There was no way she’d allow that to happen, although she refused to give in easily without protest.

The waiter delivered their meal, and Taylor looked at the salad, contemplated her plate and wondered if she’d be able to eat so much as a morsel.

‘I don’t want to share a house with you.’ And if you comment I’m the first woman to say that, I’ll hit you.

He looked at her carefully, caught the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat, and his eyes narrowed fractionally.

‘There’s a boyfriend on the scene who will object?’

A fleeting darkness clouded her eyes, then it was gone. ‘No.’ Betrayed trust ensured true friends were limited to a few, and acquaintances kept at a distance.

Interpreting body language and subtle nuances in the human voice was an art in which he excelled…an invaluable asset in the cut and thrust of international business dealings.

It took, Dante mused, an accomplished actress trained to submerge her own personality in order to assume that of the character she was contracted to play.

And somehow he doubted Taylor was playing a part. Yet he’d stake his reputation on there being something responsible for her chosen façade…even allowing for recent grief, and Ben’s welfare.

‘And you, Dante? Won’t your current mistress protest at your proposed live-in arrangement with another woman?’

‘No.’

Just…no?

‘Eat,’ Dante bade and he began doing justice to the food on his plate.

The salad looked delicious…although her nerves were stretched too taut to appreciate the taste of food.

She declined dessert and settled for coffee, sweet, black and strong, aware it was also Dante’s choice, and when the waiter presented the bill she reached for her wallet…only to have Dante refuse her offer to pay her share.

‘There’s enough time to check out the house before we collect Ben.’

House? We? ‘I don’t think—’

‘We have an hour and a half,’ he enlightened as he ushered her out onto the pavement. All it took was a brief conversation via his mobile phone, and within minutes a black Mercedes slid in to the kerb.

Dante opened a door, ushered her into the rear seat, then he crossed round the vehicle and slipped in beside her, introduced his driver, Gianni, with friendly ease. Given Dante’s reputed ruthlessness in the business arena, she assumed he’d appear businesslike with his staff, and she sat in silence as he issued instructions to an address in Watson’s Bay, one of Sydney’s luxurious suburbs offering widespread panoramic harbour views.

House was a misnomer. Mansion seemed a more adequate description, Taylor conceded as the Mercedes swept through high, ornate remotely operated steel gates, circled a wide driveway and eased to a halt beneath a wide porte-cochère protecting broad double entrance doors of steel-strutted solid patterned wood.

Double-storeyed, the building resembled a Tuscan villa, with a cream and terra-cotta tiled roof, cream stucco exterior walls and, she saw when she entered the large lobby, cream marble floor tiles, beautiful rugs and solid mahogany furniture.

A middle-aged woman came forward to greet them. Dante introduced her as Anna, whose husband, Claude, maintained the grounds.

There were oil paintings gracing the walls, an elegant, sweeping double staircase, and a sparkling crystal chandelier hung suspended from a tall ceiling.

Taylor was supremely conscious of Dante’s close proximity as he showed her through the house.

The subtle tones of his cologne teased her senses, and, although he made no attempt at physical contact, she disliked the prickle of awareness stealing through her body.

She covered it well, making appropriate comments as they moved through the ground-level rooms, all of which were spacious, beautifully furnished, before moving to the upper level, which did, as Dante had indicated, contain two distinct wings, each containing guest suites with adjoining en suites. There was also a media room, a family lounge and two home offices.

It was, Taylor had to concede, a beautiful home, complemented by landscaped grounds, a large swimming pool with entry from the side of the house and completely enclosed with a solar-tinted glass roof and glass-panelled external walls.

There was no valid reason why Dante’s suggested living arrangement couldn’t work…with certain iron-clad provisos.

‘Any reservations you’d care to voice?’ Dante queried as they began descending the staircase, and she met his dark, probing look with equanimity.

‘A few.’

‘Then let’s hear them.’

She paused on one step and turned towards him, aware he copied her action.

‘I want to make it very clear Ben is the only reason I’ll accept your suggestion.’

‘So noted.’

‘The live-in arrangement is strictly business,’ she offered, and lifted a hand to cover the tell-tale thud at the base of her throat, ‘with all that statement implies.’

Dante looked at her for a long moment, aware she held his gaze with determined resolve, almost silently daring him to be the first to glance away.

Yet beneath the resolve he sensed unaccustomed wariness and a degree of fragility. Coupled with innate reserve, it was an interesting mix.

‘You have nothing to fear from me,’ he drawled, and saw a delicate pink tinge her cheeks an instant before she turned away and began stepping quickly down the stairs.

Dante checked his watch, alerted Gianni, then he followed Taylor down into the lobby and led the way to the waiting Mercedes.

It was a relatively trouble-free run from Vaucluse to Double Bay, and Dante turned slightly towards her as the car slid into a parking bay adjacent the kindergarten. ‘I’ll come with you.’

She could hardly refuse without sounding churlish, and she managed a polite response. ‘Ben will be pleased to see you.’

Dante’s presence drew attention as they crossed towards the kindergarten entrance, his tall, broad, impeccably tailored frame a stand-out from the few males gathered waiting to collect children.

Within minutes the outer door opened, and a carer took up position to ensure each child was collected by their designated parent or grandparent.

Taylor effected an introduction, drew attention to the fact she’d previously noted Dante as Ben’s legal guardian, whereupon relevant details were checked on the call-sheet, together with Dante’s mobile-phone number.

‘Please alter the residential address,’ Dante informed, and gave it. ‘Effective from today,’ he added smoothly.

Excuse me?

‘Isn’t this a little precipitate?’ she said quietly as they moved aside, and incurred his dark gaze.

‘There’s no reason to delay settling Ben into his new home.’

Taylor sent him a spearing look. ‘Tomorrow,’ she stated firmly. ‘It will allow him to become accustomed to the idea.’

Minutes later Ben was summoned by the carer, whereupon he moved quickly to the entrance, leant into her hug, then a smile broadened his mouth as he caught sight of Dante.

Without a word he raised his arms as Dante lifted him high against his chest and held him close.

‘Hello, Ben.’

‘Zio. You came. Taylor said you would.’ Ben looked at him solemnly. ‘Are you going to stay?’

‘Yes. Most of the time,’ Dante assured as he crossed the parking area.

‘Cool.’

One word, conveying much, and Taylor felt her heart melt a little…as it had so often these past few weeks, when all she wanted to do was hug him close and will back his laughter and joy of life.

Time. It will just take time, she assured silently as they reached the Mercedes, and she frowned with sudden anxiety. ‘Ben’s booster seat is in my car.’

Dante spared her a glance. ‘I had Gianni organise one this morning.’ He opened the rear door, saw Ben safely buckled in as she slid in beside her nephew, while Dante took the adjacent seat.

She knew she should credit Dante with forethought, but he was moving too fast, taking control…doubtless a power trait he’d skilfully honed as head of the d’Alessandri corporation.

Laudable, but Ben wasn’t a corporate commodity, and she intended to relay her viewpoint at the soonest possible moment.

A strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck caused her to spare a glance in Dante’s direction, and the breath stopped in her throat as she met his musing gaze.

He couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking, surely? Oh, for heaven’s sake…it hardly mattered if he did.

Taylor offered Gianni directions to her apartment, and she felt a sense of relief when the car slid to a halt at the kerb outside what had once been a stately double-storeyed villa which developers had converted into four apartments.

‘Thanks for lunch,’ she acknowledged quietly as Dante withdrew Ben and set him onto his feet on the pavement.

Ben’s hand curled into his uncle’s much larger one as he looked up at her. ‘Can Zio come up and see my bike?’

How could she refuse? ‘Of course. If he’d like to.’ She almost qualified it with ‘if he isn’t too busy’, and stilled the words before they could find voice.

Did Dante sense her reluctance? Perhaps, although she told herself his thought process was of little interest.

Her apartment was one of two situated on the upper floor, reached by a wide central staircase, and she unlocked the door, disarmed the alarm system, then indicated the hallway. ‘Would you like coffee?’

‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ He smiled down at Ben’s anxious features. ‘Let’s go see your bike, shall we?’

The apartment was relatively spacious and pleasantly furnished. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, the usual utilities. Feminine, but functional, he noted as Ben led him into a room where floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined two walls. A home office, sans a desk, computer or the usual electronic equipment.

Instead stuffed toys lined the bed, and there were several toy cars and trucks neatly parked together on the floor. A few childish prints were attached to the wall above the bed, together with an enlarged framed photo taken in happier times featuring Casey, Leon, Ben as a young babe and Taylor.

Dante’s gaze lingered, settled briefly on Taylor’s features, noting her happy smile, the laughing eyes…as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

‘This is my bike.’

Dante hunkered down and ran a careful hand over the gleaming paint, the seat, and commented on its racy three-wheeler design.

‘Daddy bought it for me, before—’ He paused, bit his lip, then reiterated with extreme care, ‘Before.’

Dante suddenly felt a fierce need to draw Ben close and assure him everything would be fine. Instead, he rubbed a gentle palm over Ben’s shoulder, kept it there for a moment, then offered warmly, ‘Maybe we can take it to a park one day soon and you can show me how well you can ride.’

Dark brown eyes regarded him solemnly. ‘Can Taylor come too?’

‘Of course.’

A tentative smile widened his mouth. ‘Are you going to stay with us?’

‘Would you like that?’

‘You can have my bed.’

Such an earnest offer, and one that pulled at something deep within. This was Leon’s son, his godson. A child who needed every reassurance he was safe, secure and loved.

‘That’s very kind,’ Dante said gently. ‘Perhaps we should run it by Taylor?’ It would allow her the opportunity to reveal their imminent move to Watson’s Bay.

Which it did, and he silently applauded her explanation, added his own together with the benefits of sharing a larger residence.

They kept it simple, logical…and received Ben’s slow nod of acceptance, pursued by a worried frown. ‘Will I still go to the same kindergarten?’

In a time of complete change, it was important to retain a constant. ‘Yes.’ Dante’s assurance echoed that of Taylor’s, and Ben’s expression cleared.

‘And can Sooty come, too?’

Dante raised an eyebrow in silent query, and Taylor quickly explained, ‘Sooty is a cat.’

‘Of course.’

Taylor opted for informality, choosing to serve coffee at the dining-room table, where Ben sat enjoying his glass of milk and afternoon snack.

Dante’s presence had an unsettling effect…one she endeavoured to overcome as she focused on Ben, waiting for the moment Dante would leave.

Except he seemed in no hurry, and she felt her nerves stretch increasingly taut.

Almost as if he knew, he made a play of checking his watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

She caught the faint gleam of amusement as he rose to his feet, and for a brief moment her eyes flared in silent response as he placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘And Taylor.’

Dante’s smile held affection. ‘Yes. Taylor, too.’

It wasn’t difficult to summon a degree of warmth as she preceded him to the door, and she determinedly held his gaze for the few seemingly long seconds before he passed into the small lobby and descended the stairs to the main entrance.

There was a sense of relief as she secured the lock, then she summoned Ben for his routine of bath followed by dinner. Then she read him a bedtime story…extended by a host of inevitable questions which she managed to answer with the assurance he needed.

It was only later as Ben slept that she contemplated her own need for reassurance.

As from tomorrow she’d be living with an inimitable man and, despite the large house, there would be far more togetherness than she felt comfortable with.

So get used to it.

At least on one issue they each stood firm…taking care of Ben. That had to be a good thing.

Dante made it sound so…simple. A large mansion, separate living wings, he’d be overseas more often than he’d be at home.

Why, they’d probably rarely see each other!