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CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re doing this.’

Meghan stood behind Emma as she finished packing her suitcases—just one for her and one for Ava, really not much at all to bring to her new home. Her new life.

‘It makes sense, Meghan,’ she said, which was what Larenzo had said to her last night. Last night she’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep as she’d thought about her future, when she’d heard Meghan’s and Pete’s raised voices downstairs, and had known they were talking about her. She’d crept to the top of the stairs, everything in her stilling as Pete had declared,

‘She can’t stay here any longer, Meghan. I’ve been patient, God knows, but two more mouths to feed is expensive, and if this Cavelli character has connections to—’

‘He was cleared of all charges,’ Meghan had cut across her husband.

‘Even so—’

‘She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, Pete.’

‘Then she needs to find somewhere,’ Pete had answered grimly, and Emma had crept back to her bed.

Pete was right. She couldn’t stay here any longer, for too many reasons. And she no longer wanted to deny Larenzo access to his daughter, even if she was afraid of what that might mean. Not for Ava, but for her.

‘You could stay here,’ Meghan persisted, and Emma met her sister’s eye in the mirror hanging over the bureau.

‘You know I couldn’t,’ she said quietly, and Meghan flushed and looked away.

‘I was afraid you might have heard that conversation—’

‘Pete’s right, Meghan.’

Meghan bit her lip. ‘I like having you here, Emma. You’ve been away for so long—’

‘New York City isn’t that far. I’ll visit lots, I promise.’

‘I’ll worry. I still don’t trust Cavelli. Even if he was cleared of charges...’

‘What happened to innocent until proven guilty?’ Emma asked lightly. ‘I trust him, Meghan, and I know he wouldn’t hurt his daughter.’ She paused, her gaze on the clothes she was folding. ‘He was good to me when I worked for him.’ She bit her lip as a pang of bittersweet longing assailed her. ‘He was very good to me.’

‘But can you really trust him?’ Meghan persisted, and Emma thought of what he’d said last night at dinner. You can’t trust anyone in this world. That’s one thing I’ve come to realise. When had he realised that? When he was a child at the orphanage, or when he’d been sent to a prison for crimes he might not have committed? A lifetime of betrayal, perhaps, and yet there was still so much she didn’t understand.

‘Yes, I can,’ she answered Meghan. ‘At least when it comes to Ava.’

Twenty minutes later Larenzo pulled up in front of Meghan’s house in a luxury sedan, a car seat already installed in the centre of the back seat. He loaded the two suitcases in the boot, glancing at Emma.

‘That’s all you have?’

‘I travel light.’

‘But Ava—’

‘The crib and changing table and things belonged to Meghan. They’re hoping for another baby someday, so...’

‘You don’t need to worry about any of that,’ Larenzo said. ‘I’ve taken care of it.’

‘Okay,’ she murmured, and Larenzo held out his arms for Ava.

‘May I?’

Wordlessly she nodded and handed him their daughter. He held her awkwardly, clearly not used to the chubby bundle of arms and legs that was an almost toddler. ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he murmured, smiling into Ava’s inquisitive face. She gurgled and grabbed his chin in her chubby fists and Larenzo laughed, the sound rusty and surprising and also achingly wonderful. Emma realised she hadn’t heard Larenzo laugh before. It reminded her of the photo she’d shown him, back in Sicily; it was a sound of joy. Suddenly she felt almost near tears. She swallowed hard and watched as Larenzo buckled Ava into her car seat; he fiddled with the straps and with a laugh that managed to clear the tears away Emma helped him.

‘These things are impossible,’ she said. ‘Especially when Ava is resisting.’ She buckled the straps over Ava’s tummy, conscious of Larenzo standing so close to her, his head bent near hears. She closed her eyes, willed herself to develop a little strength. A lot of resistance. Otherwise she was going to have way too many difficult moments with Larenzo. ‘There.’ She patted the buckled straps and straightened, her breast brushing against Larenzo’s arm as she did so. Desire shot through her veins and she quickly turned away and got in the car, deeply unsettled by her own reaction to this man who had catapulted so suddenly back into her life.

* * *

Larenzo started the car; Emma was in the passenger seat, her face turned towards the window. He had no idea what she was thinking, if she still resented his presence in Ava’s life.

He’d told Emma he didn’t trust anyone, and, while that was true, he was conscious of how he was asking her to trust him with the most precious thing of all: their child. But he also knew he couldn’t change who he was, who he’d become. Trust was now an alien concept, and always would be. Even so, he could appreciate what Emma was doing.

‘Thank you,’ he said abruptly, and she turned to him warily.

‘For what?’ she asked and he cleared his throat.

‘For agreeing to live with me.’

‘When the alternative is having you sue me for custody,’ she answered after a moment, ‘there wasn’t really any question, was there?’

Guilt needled him at the realisation of how effectively he’d blackmailed her. Was he really any better than Bertrano, when he resorted to such tactics? And yet Emma would have denied him his own flesh and blood, the child he’d never expected to have, the family he’d longed for since he was a child himself.

‘Well,’ he said after a moment, ‘I’m still grateful.’ Emma did not reply.

They drove in silence for the entire hour’s journey into the city; Ava babbled and gurgled in the back seat, and by the time they approached the Lincoln Tunnel she was tired of the car and began to protest, straining against the straps of her car seat.

Emma tried to distract her with a few toys and then a rice cake, all of which entertained Ava for about three seconds before she hurled each item to the floor.

‘Sorry,’ Emma said as she glanced down at the floor of the back seat. ‘You have a sea of rice cake crumbs down there.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Are you sure you’re prepared for this?’ she asked as Ava drummed her heels against the seat. ‘Ava is a force to be reckoned with.’

‘So I can see—and hear,’ Larenzo answered dryly. ‘I don’t know if I’m prepared. But I’m willing to take it on.’ She need never doubt him in that.

‘Did you ever want children?’ Emma asked. ‘I mean, before...’

‘Before I went to prison?’ Larenzo filled in flatly. ‘I don’t know if I really thought of it. I didn’t have time for a relationship.’

‘Yet you’ve certainly had your share of women.’

His mouth tightened as he slid her a sideways glance. She’d spoken without expression, and he had no idea what she thought of that aspect of his past. Not that it actually mattered, since there would never be anything like that between them. He had nothing to offer Emma, or anyone. Not in that way. ‘I don’t deny it,’ he said after a moment.

‘Having a baby in your apartment, as well as her mother, might cramp your style a bit.’

Larenzo shook his head. ‘I’ve no interest in anything like that any more.’

Emma raised her eyebrows, clearly sceptical. ‘Larenzo, you’re what? In your mid-thirties? Surely you’re going to want a woman again.’

Want a woman. The last woman he’d been with had been Emma, and he’d wanted her almost unbearably. Just remembering the sweetness of her touch, the innocent and utter yielding of her body when he’d needed her so badly, made lust shaft through him with a sudden, painful intensity.

He shifted as discreetly as he could in his seat and kept his eyes on the road. He might have told Emma he wasn’t interested in relationships or sex any more, and in truth his libido had disappeared while he’d been in prison, along with all of his other feelings and desires. But he could feel it returning in force now.

‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘You might meet someone.’ A thought that he disliked instinctively, although he knew he had no right to.

‘I can’t even imagine meeting someone,’ Emma said with a small sigh. ‘Ava takes up all my energy.’

‘She won’t be a baby for ever.’

‘No,’ Emma said slowly. ‘But, Larenzo, this...situation can’t last for ever.’

He turned to her sharply, his eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I can’t live with you for ever. I accept that it’s expedient for now, and of course it gives you time to get to know her, but eventually...I need my own life. You’ll need yours. When Ava is a little older, we can come to a custody arrangement we can both live with.’

Larenzo didn’t answer for a moment. He knew she was talking sense but everything in him rebelled against it. Ava was the only family he’d ever had. He wasn’t going to give her up, not even in part, as easily as that.

‘We’ll discuss the future when it is relevant,’ he said, making his tone final. They’d driven through the Lincoln Tunnel and now came out into midtown Manhattan, all of them blinking in the bright sunlight. Even Ava had stopped protesting against the hated car seat as she gazed curiously at the gleaming skyscrapers and the streets teeming with people.

Emma turned to stare out of the window, and Larenzo saw she looked almost as wide-eyed as her daughter. ‘Have you spent much time in New York before?’

‘Not really. As a kid I always lived abroad. My apartment is on the Central Park West, right near the Natural History Museum. It’s a good area for children.’

‘You’ve only been in America for a week, haven’t you?’ Emma asked. ‘How did you manage to secure an apartment so quickly?’

‘Money talks.’

‘And even though the assets of Cavelli Enterprises are frozen, you have money?’

‘I had my own savings, which were released to me when the charges were cleared.’

She turned to give him a direct look. ‘Are you ever going to tell me the whole story, Larenzo?’

His hands tensed on the steering wheel and he stared straight ahead as he navigated the roundabout at Columbus Circle. ‘I’ve told you what you need to know, Emma.’ Perhaps it was foolish to keep the truth from her about Bertrano; it was shaming that he still felt a loyalty to a man who, despite years of shared history, of happy memories, had completely and utterly betrayed him. And he knew that telling Emma his part of the story, how he’d been duped and deceived, wouldn’t make much difference. Yet it would make a difference to him. He didn’t want to admit how naive he’d been, how hurt he’d been. Not to Emma. Not to anyone.

And maybe Emma sensed some of what he felt, for to Larenzo’s surprise she laid a hand on his arm, the touch of her fingers as light as a butterfly’s. ‘I hope you will be able to tell me someday, Larenzo. For your sake as much as mine.’

They didn’t talk after that until Larenzo had pulled up to the elegant brick building that faced Central Park. A valet came out to deal with the car, and a doorman went for their bags.

Larenzo turned to get Ava out of her car seat; she practically flung herself into his arms and Larenzo held his daughter to him, breathing in her clean baby scent as her dark hair tickled his face. His daughter. Even now he nearly reeled from the shock and force of that knowledge. He had a family.

‘Do you want me to take her?’ Emma asked, reaching for Ava, and Larenzo shook his head.

‘She’s okay with me.’ Although he wasn’t so sure about that when Ava began to flail, scrambling to get down.

Emma laughed and reached for her, and reluctantly Larenzo gave Ava over to her. ‘I guess she wants her mother.’

‘Actually, I think she just wants to crawl all over this marble floor and get really dirty,’ Emma answered lightly. She smiled at him, and he thought he saw sympathy in her eyes. ‘She’ll get used to you.’

He nodded, his throat too tight for words. He’d thought he had nothing left inside him; he’d been sure he was broken and empty inside. But knowing he had a daughter, knowing he could have someone to love and be loved by, filled him up to overflowing.

* * *

Emma followed Larenzo into the sumptuous foyer of the apartment building, all marble floors and glittering chandeliers. A doorman nodded respectfully to Larenzo as they passed, and then they stepped into a large wood-panelled lift, complete with a sofa and gilt mirror.

‘Fancy,’ Emma murmured as they soared upwards to the penthouse and then stepped into the huge foyer of Larenzo’s apartment.

‘This marble is a bit hard for a baby,’ she said, tapping the black and white chequered marble with one foot. ‘I wouldn’t want Ava to fall and hurt herself.’

‘I’ll arrange to have it carpeted immediately,’ Larenzo answered without missing a beat, and Emma wondered if she’d been challenging him. How far would Larenzo go to accommodate his daughter? Did she even want to answer that question?

She felt a churning mix of emotions as she stepped into the living room, its large windows overlooking Central Park, now ablaze in autumn colours. On one hand, she was grateful that Larenzo was interested in his daughter. How could she not be? And yet she was also afraid. Afraid of the darkness of his past, the secrets he wasn’t telling her. But more than that: she was afraid of feeling too much for him, of getting too used to this. To him. Of caring for a man who had no intention of reciprocating her feelings. Surely she wouldn’t be so weak. She wouldn’t let herself.

‘Would you like to come see the nursery?’ Larenzo asked, coming to stand behind her at the window, Ava in his arms.

Emma turned. ‘There’s a nursery?’

‘I had it all delivered yesterday.’

Wordlessly she nodded and followed Larenzo down the luxuriously carpeted hall to the bedrooms.

‘My bedroom is here,’ he said, indicating a door on the left. ‘And your bedroom is here.’ He pointed to a door directly across from his. ‘The nursery is adjoining yours. I thought you’d prefer that.’

‘I do,’ Emma said, although the thought of having her own bedroom after ten months of sharing cramped quarters with her daughter was a luxury she intended to enjoy. ‘Thank you,’ she added belatedly, and Larenzo just nodded as he opened the door to the nursery.

She’d been expecting something basic and expedient, ordered and set up in a hurry, but the room she stepped into looked as if it had taken months of planning. The walls were painted a pale lilac, and matching curtains framed the deep window that overlooked the park. Deeper purple accents were scattered around the room: a throw pillow on the rocking chair, a silk-patterned lampshade, a close-up photograph of a violet on the wall. It was a lovely, creative room that was perfect for a baby without being cloyingly sweet or infantile.

‘I thought you might like something other than the standard pink,’ Larenzo said, and Emma heard a surprising note of uncertainty, even vulnerability, in his voice. ‘But of course if you don’t like it, you must change it. You can redecorate anything in the apartment as you like.’

‘I don’t want to redecorate,’ Emma answered honestly. ‘I love it. It’s perfect, Larenzo. Thank you.’

‘Good.’

Emma set Ava down on the plush carpet and she crawled towards a purple rocking horse—actually, Emma saw, a unicorn with a glittery horn—set in the corner, reaching up to grasp the handles as she pulled herself to standing.

‘She’s clever, isn’t she?’ Larenzo said with pride. ‘She’ll be walking soon.’

‘And then there will really be no stopping her.’ Emma gazed round the room again, noting all the unique touches. ‘So did you hire an interior decorator?’ she asked, and Larenzo shook his head.

‘No, I did it myself. I enjoyed picking out all the things.’

‘It must have taken an age—’

‘No, just an afternoon. I hired painters to come and do the walls, and I put the furniture together myself.’ He paused and then added, ‘I told you I wanted to be involved, Emma.’

‘I know, but...’ She shook her head, overwhelmed by the thought and consideration Larenzo had clearly put into the nursery. She pictured him with an instruction leaflet and a set of tools, laboriously putting the crib and changing table together, and felt as if a fist had clenched around her heart. ‘I suppose I didn’t really think you’d be a hands-on dad,’ she confessed, and Larenzo raised his eyebrows.

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. You were so busy with work when I was your housekeeper. You hardly had time to come to the villa. And your lifestyle...’

‘Things are different now.’

‘Yes.’ Emma swallowed, trying to banish the images that had sprung into her mind, memories of the last night Larenzo had come to the villa, had come to her. She had to put that behind her. Heaven knew Larenzo had. ‘Yes,’ she repeated more firmly. ‘Things are different now.’