Читать книгу Saving His Little Miracle - Jennifer Taylor - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

‘IF YOU WOULD wait in here, my housekeeper will bring you something to drink while I get changed. Which would you prefer: tea or coffee?’

‘Neither. I didn’t come here to sit around drinking tea, Vincenzo. I have more important things to worry about!’

Vincenzo heard the mounting hysteria in Lowri’s voice and inwardly flinched. He hated scenes, hated any display of unbridled emotion. Swinging round on his heel, he strode to the door, determined that he wasn’t going to be drawn into a discussion until she calmed down. They needed to talk about this calmly and rationally.

If that was possible.

His stomach roiled as he recalled what she had said. She had asked him to have another child with her and if that weren’t proof of her state of mind, what was? Even setting aside that claim she had made about him being the father of her daughter, what sane woman would have asked that of him? No, she was completely overwrought, unbalanced even, and he needed to proceed with the utmost caution if he was to avoid an ugly confrontation.

‘Don’t walk away from me, Vincenzo! I’m sorry if I’ve disrupted your day by coming here, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say whether you like it or not!’

Vincenzo came to an abrupt halt when she caught hold of his arm. Her fingers were icily cold against his bare skin and he fought to suppress the shiver that ran through him. Turning, he stared into her angry face, his lips already parted to remonstrate with her. Nobody ordered him about; he wouldn’t allow them to. Even if she was undergoing some sort of a mental crisis, she needed to understand that. However, for some reason he found the harsh words drying up when he looked into her eyes and saw the fear they held.

‘I need your help, Vincenzo, not for me but for Megan. That’s why I’m here. Because there’s nothing else I can do for her.’

She let go of his arm and he saw the shudder that passed through her. It struck him then just how terrified she looked. Maybe she wasn’t behaving rationally but it was obvious that she was under a huge amount of strain. The thought made him reconsider his decision to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Maybe they had known each other only for a very short time but she had helped him through a difficult period in his life. He owed it to her to listen to what she had to say at the very least.

Vincenzo turned and made his way to the sofa, surprised that he felt this way. He rarely felt under an obligation and couldn’t remember the last time he had put someone else’s needs before his own. However, there was something about the fear in Lowri’s hazel eyes that touched a chord inside him. He wanted to help her even though he had no idea why.

‘Thank you.’

Her voice was soft, filled with a relief that made his skin prickle in atavistic response. It was as though it had sliced through all the layers that had built up over the years and cut right to the very heart of him. Vincenzo took a deep breath, feeling oddly disorientated. He always knew how to behave in any situation, was always able to harness his emotions and steer them in the direction he wanted them to go, but not now. Not when he could tell how much it meant to her to have him do her bidding.

‘The fact that I am willing to listen to you means nothing,’ he said harshly, hating the fact that he felt so vulnerable. It was such an alien feeling and one he didn’t intend to foster either.

‘Maybe not, but it’s a start.’

She gave him a quick smile as she sat down and Vincenzo felt his own mouth start to curl in imitation of hers before he stopped it. Leaning back against the cushions, he stared coldly back at her, needing to set the tone for how the conversation would continue. Maybe she hoped to persuade him to agree to her request by employing all her charm, but there was no way that it was going to happen. He had never wanted children and he wasn’t about to change his mind...although if what she had said was true, perhaps it was already too late to turn his back on fatherhood.

The thought sent a chill coursing through him. Vincenzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although he was loath even to consider the idea that he might be the child’s father, he had to admit that she looked a lot like him. What if she was his daughter? What was he going to do then?

He had sworn that he would never have a family. His own less than idyllic childhood had put him off the idea. His mother had died shortly before his second birthday and he didn’t remember her at all. His father had brought him up and he had made it abundantly clear how much he had resented the time he’d had to spend with him.

Vincenzo had taken his lead from that. In his view, children needed far too much time and attention. He had seen how his colleagues struggled to balance the demands of family life with their work and he had vowed that he would never place himself in the same position. His job came first and everything else a very poor second. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to raise a family and he needed to make that clear before they went any further. Even in the unlikely event that the child turned out to be his, he didn’t intend to get involved.

‘I need to make my position perfectly clear, Signorina Davies. If what you say is correct, and it does turn out that I am the child’s father, I have no intention of getting involved in her life. Quite simply, children are not on my agenda and they never will be.’

He stared at Lowri, waiting for her to react, but her expression didn’t alter and, strangely enough, he wished that it had. It would have been that much easier to know what to say next if she had reacted with anger or incredulity even. He cleared his throat, feeling his stomach churning because he suddenly found himself in the unwelcome position of having to second-guess what she was thinking.

‘I am willing to have the DNA tests done if it means they will resolve this matter. If they prove that I am the father then naturally I shall make arrangements regarding the child’s support. However, that is where my involvement ends. I have no desire to play any role whatsoever in her life, you must understand.’

‘I do. I understand perfectly. However, I didn’t come here to ask you for money, Vincenzo. I am more than capable of supporting our daughter without your help.’

Her voice held a disdain that made Vincenzo’s skin heat with embarrassment. It was as though he had been put to the test and found wanting and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He stared back at her, doing his best to rein in the odd mix of emotions that filled him. Anger and shame weren’t things he was used to feeling and he didn’t appreciate the fact that she could trigger such a response in him.

‘You say that now but who’s to say you won’t change your mind at some point? If I am the child’s father then I shall instruct my lawyers to draw up the appropriate papers.’ He shrugged, feeling easier now that he was back in control of the conversation. ‘If you don’t wish to use the money, it can be put into a trust fund for the child to use in the future.’

‘Megan. Her name is Megan. Referring to her as the child won’t change anything, Vincenzo. She’s still your daughter!’

Lowri glared at him. If she’d had a choice she would have got up right then and left, but she didn’t have a choice, did she? She needed his help so she had to stay, had to persuade him to do what she wanted.

Her stomach rolled as it struck her how unlikely it was that he would agree. Even though she had known from the outset that it had been a long shot, she had hoped that she might be able to convince him to help her. Now, after what he had said about children not being on his agenda, it seemed less likely than ever. The thought that she might have failed brought a rush of tears to her eyes but she blinked them away. She wouldn’t give up, not yet, not until she had done everything possible to persuade him.

Reaching into her bag, she took out a second photograph. It had been taken the previous week, shortly after Megan had been allowed home from hospital. Despite the fact that she had been exhausted, Megan was smiling as she held up the new doll Lowri had bought for her. She’d been so brave, Lowri thought, running her fingertip over the glossy surface of the photograph. Megan had been through so much in her short life yet she had still found the courage to smile for the camera. Now she had to be just as brave if she was to have any hope of saving her beloved daughter.

She laid the photograph on the coffee table then placed the first one next to it, her heart aching as she compared the two. Nobody looking at these pictures could fail to be moved by what they saw and she could only pray that Vincenzo’s heart would be touched too.

‘This was taken last week when Megan came home from hospital,’ she explained, her voice catching. She cleared her throat, knowing that she couldn’t afford to break down. She needed to persuade him to help her and to do that she had to be coherent, had to lay out her arguments in a logical sequence and convince him that it was the right thing to do.

The thought of what she wanted from him made her heart race but she ignored it. She would worry about that later; think about what it would entail after she had done this.

‘She lost her hair after the chemotherapy but we’re going to get her a wig as soon as I get back home.’ She gave a little laugh, stopping the instant she felt it start to turn into a sob. ‘Apparently, she wants a bright pink one, just like her favourite doll, so we should have fun choosing it.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Vincenzo’s voice was still cool, but Lowri heard the catch in it he tried so hard to hide and felt relief pour through her. So he wasn’t totally impervious to their daughter’s plight after all!

It took every scrap of strength she could muster to keep her own voice steady; however, she knew that he would retreat behind that wall he had erected between himself and the world if she showed too much emotion, and then wondered how on earth she could possibly know that. They’d spent just three weeks together, twenty-one days, and it hadn’t been enough to get to know him properly, yet she knew in her heart that emotion scared him.

Her voice softened, took on the same soothing note she used with Megan whenever she was afraid. ‘Acute lymphoblastic anaemia. She was diagnosed last year, on her third birthday, in fact, and she’s had almost a full year of treatment.’

‘Is she in remission?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Yes.’ Lowri tried not to read anything into the fact that he sounded less shocked this time. ‘However, I’ve been warned that it’s unlikely to last and that the cancer will return. Her consultant explained that her best hope is a stem-cell transplant. It’s highly effective in young children like Megan and it could mean that she’s cured.’

‘And have you found a donor?’

‘No. There’s nobody on the bone-marrow register who’s a match. I’ve been tested, of course, and my sister as well. Her two boys, Ben and Dan, have also been tested.’ She smiled as she thought about her nephews. ‘Ben’s fifteen and Daniel’s only thirteen but they insisted on being tested if it meant they might be able to help Megan. They adore her, see her more as a little sister than a cousin, in fact, but neither of them are a suitable match, sadly. Our best hope of finding a donor is if she had a sibling.’

‘Which is why you came to see me,’ Vincenzo said flatly.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and Lowri felt a trickle of heat run down her spine when she saw the way he was looking at her. All of a sudden she knew that he was remembering that night they had slept together and her breath caught as her own head was suddenly filled with memories: the desire in Vincenzo’s eyes as he drew her down onto the bed; the coolness of his hands as he stroked her body; the heat of their sweat-slick skin as they clung to each other in the final seconds before the world dissolved in a shower of stars...

She stood up abruptly, desperate to break the visual contact. She had tried not to think about that night, had tried her hardest to erase it from her mind. There had seemed no reason to think about it after Vincenzo had ignored her letter so every time she had been tempted to recall what had happened, she had driven the thoughts away. Now all she could think about was how she had felt when they had made love. Vincenzo had aroused her passion to a level it had never reached before. She had wanted him more than she had wanted anyone, even Jonathan, her ex, and the thought stunned her.

She hadn’t been in love with Vincenzo. She couldn’t possibly have been in love with him! She had known him for too short a time and known him only on the surface too, not known him, the person he was underneath. It would be madness to imagine there was a bond between them. The only link that existed was their daughter and that was all there would ever be.

Unless he agreed to help her and they conceived another child. A child who might save Megan’s life. A child who might also forge a stronger bond between them.

* * *

Vincenzo stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound down onto his head. Would it clean his mind as well as his body? he wondered. Wash away the thoughts that were running riot inside his head?

That was why he had excused himself and left Lowri in the salone, drinking the tea his housekeeper had made for them. He couldn’t have drunk a single drop; he had realised that and made his escape. He had run away, distanced himself from a situation he didn’t know how to handle, and it didn’t make him feel good to know that he had been a coward.

All his adult life he had prided himself on knowing what to do and doing it, on making a decision and sticking to it. But he had no idea what he was going to do about this. Lowri wanted him to give her another child, a child who might help to save the daughter he had known nothing about until today. Quite frankly, it was too much to take in!

Vincenzo swore under his breath as he stepped out of the stall. Drying himself on one of the huge white bath towels, he strode into his bedroom and flung open the wardrobe doors. He needed clothes that would say the right thing, give the right impression. Running shorts and a vest certainly hadn’t helped. He needed something more formal, clothes that would help to protect his mind as well as cover his body. He needed to feel like himself when he saw Lowri again, not like this person he had turned into, the one who couldn’t make decisions.

What if he refused and Megan died—how would he feel then? Could he live with the thought that he might have been able to save her?

His hand stilled. He could feel his heart thumping, feel the blood pounding in his temples. He had sworn a solemn oath when he had qualified as a doctor that he would do everything in his power to uphold life, yet he was contemplating letting his own child die.

What sort of a man did that make him? What kind of a person? Maybe he hadn’t expected to find himself in this position but if it was true, if the child was his, how could he turn his back on her? Yet if he did agree, and he and Lowri had another child, what kind of an impact would it have on his life? Would he be able to cope with fatherhood or would he turn out exactly like his own father had been, full of resentment and bitterness? Did he really want any child to have to endure the sort of loveless childhood he’d had?

His face was set as he reached into the wardrobe and took out a pair of chinos. He slipped them on then opened a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and dragged it over his head. What he wore was irrelevant. What mattered more was that he did what was right, not just what was right for him but right for them all—him, Lowri and Megan. His daughter.

His breath caught because it was no longer a question of maybe but definitely. He knew the child was his flesh and blood, knew it with a certainty that would have shocked him before today. He never accepted anything at face value normally. He always checked that any facts presented to him were correct. However, in his heart he knew that Megan was his daughter and the fact that he was prepared to accept it as the truth scared him. If he relied on emotions rather than proof, he would never be in control of this situation.

Vincenzo left the bedroom, taking his time as he made his way downstairs while he assembled his thoughts. Instinct was all well and good but he refused to allow it to take over. There was a lot to discuss if he and Lowri were to work out a solution to this dilemma.

His mind skipped ahead, presenting him with a scene that made his blood heat, and he groaned. Thinking about making love to Lowri was the last thing he should be doing when he needed a clear head! He took a steadying breath then opened the door to the salone, frowning when he discovered the room was empty. Where was she? Surely she hadn’t left?

He swung round then stopped when he saw her crossing the hall. She was wearing a sundress, pale green cotton with narrow straps at the shoulders and a full skirt. Vincenzo found himself thinking how much it suited her, the colour bringing out the golden lights in her brown hair and making her hazel eyes appear greener than ever. With it she was wearing a pair of leather sandals and he felt his stomach muscles clench when he saw the gleam of fresh polish on her toenails. For some reason he found it incredibly touching that she had dressed with such care for this meeting. Lowri was prepared to do anything it took to save her daughter. Even if it meant sleeping with him. Now he had to decide if he was as brave as her.