Читать книгу The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand - Сара Крейвен, Sara Craven - Страница 11

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘DADDY’S here!’ Matt yelled from the front porch. ‘And he’s come in his red car!’

The Ferrari! The excitement in her son’s voice shot Skye out of dallying in the kitchen. He’d been outside, waiting and watching for his father in a fever of impatience, and the double attraction of the Ferrari spelled danger! She raced down the hallway to the opened front door in time to see Matt unlatching the gate and Luc emerging from his car on the other side of the street.

‘Don’t run onto the road, Matt!’ she called.

It alerted Luc, who instantly spotted him and held up a hand. ‘Wait on the sidewalk.’ Commanding authority.

Matt obeyed, but he literally jiggled with pleasure as Luc strode across the road towards him, smiling his own pleasure in this obvious welcome from his son. He swooped down, picked him up and hoisted him up against his shoulder, laughing as Matt laughed—the sound of mutual happiness. ‘So how did it go at soccer training?’ he asked.

And Matt bubbled over with news of the two after-school sessions he’d attended during the week. No shyness. A quick and easy rapport with his father, plus unadulterated delight in his interest and company.

Which put a little hollow in Skye’s heart. It was hard, realising she couldn’t supply all her son’s needs. Not even years of loving him, doing everything she could for him, was enough. He wanted his father.

She waited on the porch, watching them bonding as Luc carried Matt back to her. They were alike, though maybe she was seeing the similarities more acutely now that it was impossible to deny them with Luc right in front of her again. And he wasn’t going to go away.

The only question was…how far should she let him into their lives?

All week she had been weighing it up in her mind and was no closer to an answer. It was no use even trying to think of him as the much younger Luc she had loved. He was different, just as she was different. He’d spoken of darkness and she sensed it ran very deeply, married to a steely resolve that encompassed her because of what had been done to him.

She wasn’t sure love had any part in it…yet watching him with Matt, seeing him drink in the innocence of his child’s natural response to him…his heart was surely being touched. It wasn’t just ownership.

So maybe he was still capable of loving. Whether that could extend to her…if she was his wife…but there was still the Peretti family in the background, a powerful father who would hate having his will thwarted.

Then Luc turned his gaze from Matt to her, a direct blaze of power that thumped into her heart and burned into her brain the unequivocal fact that he wasn’t about to have his will thwarted, either.

‘Daddy said I had to ask you if I can have a ride in his car,’ Matt piped up. ‘Can I, Mummy? Can I?’

‘May I,’ Skye corrected automatically, wrenching her gaze away from Luc’s, ‘We can’t all fit in that car, Matt. If we’re going to Darling Harbour…’ The outing agreed upon.

‘Perhaps a quick spin around the block?’ Luc suggested.

‘He’s not a stranger any more, Mummy. It can’t be a bad thing to do.’

Skye flushed at the reminder of the argument she’d used in a protective need to keep Luc a stranger to Matt. ‘Just a short ride then,’ she muttered, feeling hamstrung by her own dictate.

‘Five minutes at most,’ Luc promised, undoubtedly realising it was stretching her trust to let him go off alone with their son. It was against their agreement.

‘Okay, five minutes,’ she conceded, shooting him a warning look. One transgression didn’t mean he could trample anywhere he liked.

He grinned at her, triumph dancing in his eyes. Matt whooped with joy and they were off, leaving Skye to fret over the feeling that control was slipping away from her.

In fact, it had been slipping away ever since Luc had re-entered her life. Her independent stance was gone. Any peace of mind was gone. The future directions she had been considering were hopelessly blurred by the now prime consideration of whether or not she should entertain the idea of marrying Luc Peretti.

With a helpless sigh, Skye retreated into the house, checked that everything needed for their day out had been put in the backpack before zipping it shut, slung it over one arm, grabbed both her hat and Matt’s, and went back out to the porch, locking the front door behind her.

The Ferrari came vrooming down the street as she walked towards the Alfa. Luc had kept his word. He didn’t want her to be frightened of him. The problem was it was difficult not to be when her knees went weak at the sight of him.

She unlocked the Alfa and waited beside it, wondering how she was going to cope in his company all day long—a morning visit to the aquarium, lunch in one of the many restaurants overlooking Darling Harbour, idling the afternoon away at the children’s playground or the Japanese Gardens.

Father and son emerged from the Ferrari, holding hands to cross the road, both of them wearing jeans and T-shirts, just as she was. The three of them were dressed like a family, going on a holiday tour together, and Matt was skipping with excited anticipation. He’d had his ride in his father’s flash car and now he was going to see all the fish from his favourite movie, Finding Nemo.

Skye handed the Alfa’s key to Luc. ‘You drive. I haven’t been near inner-city traffic for so long, it would make me nervous.’

‘Then this should be a practice run for you,’ he argued.

‘I’d rather do that alone.’

‘I could help you avoid mistakes.’

‘Just let me be a passenger, Luc. It’s your day with Matt.’ Not with me.

He instantly picked up the implication not to assume too much and gave her an ironic little smile as he took the key. ‘Keeping your distance, Skye?’

‘Keeping out of trouble,’ she answered.

She had trouble enough, sitting so closely beside him in the car on their way to Darling Harbour. His physical presence in such a small space dominated her consciousness, even though she kept her gaze fixed on the traffic, trying her utmost to ignore how acutely all her other senses were attuned to him.

Nor could she stop her body from feeling all keyed up—whether to repel any touch from him or welcome it, she didn’t know. Just being near him aroused the fresh sexual memories from last week, but she couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t risk any kind of intimate contact while she was still trying to sort through the situation between them.

Matt was full of chatter, keeping Luc engaged in conversation, for which Skye was intensely grateful. She listened to their voices. No strain in either of them—happy, cheerful, having fun. Would Luc be a good father in the long run? Discovering a son was still very new to him. He wanted to indulge Matt, but there was more to parenting than indulgence.

Still, Skye couldn’t quarrel with the indulgence when they finally reached the aquarium and walked into a new entrancing world for Matt. The touching pond and the showcases of fish were fantastic. Seeing sharks swimming overhead was positively awesome. She could not have afforded to give Matt this experience and he was loving every minute of it.

The tropical fish, of course, were a very special attraction, and he told Luc the names of those he recognised from having watched Finding Nemo many times since Skye had bought him the video for Christmas. Naturally the clownfish was his favourite.

Eventually they’d exhausted every attraction and Skye suggested a toilet visit before going on to lunch. She automatically took Matt’s hand to lead him into the Ladies’ Room, only to be halted by Luc.

‘He should come with me, Skye.’

‘But he’s a little boy,’ she objected.

‘I’ll look after him.’ Hard challenge in his eyes.

It was his day with Matt.

Rather than make a fight of it, Skye reluctantly let them go together. She was waiting for them when they came out and Matt rushed over to her to whisper proudly, ‘I peed in the urinal with Daddy.’

Skye grimaced over this highly basic piece of male bonding and rolled her eyes at Luc who was totally unabashed about it. ‘About time I had a first in my son’s upbringing,’ he said pointedly, reminding her of all the firsts he’d missed—first word, first step, first day at school…

Matt skipped on ahead of them as they walked towards the aquarium exit and Luc seized the chance for some private talk between them, stunning her with his opening line. ‘Any chance you might have conceived another child last week?’

‘No,’ she answered quickly, a wave of heat whooshing up her neck at the abrupt reference to their intimacy.

‘I didn’t use protection, Skye, and your own long drought from any sex suggests you didn’t, either.’

‘It was a safe time.’ A fact she’d only figured out—frantically—when the possible consequence of pregnancy had occurred to her after he’d gone.

‘Sure about that?’

‘Yes,’ she bit out grimly, remembering the churning panic while she had checked dates.

‘I was rather hoping it wasn’t,’ he drawled.

‘What?’ She threw an appalled look at him.

‘I’m here to take care of you this time.’ His eyes glittered ruthless determination. ‘And I’d like us to have a child we both shared from the very beginning.’

She felt his strongly embittered sense of having been cheated of years with Matt and kept her mouth shut. This was not something she could argue against. Yet a revulsion against the ruthlessness she saw in him forced her to ask, ‘Were you thinking of getting me pregnant when you carried me off to bed?’

‘No.’ He sliced her a sardonic little smile. ‘I just wanted you, Skye. So much that protection didn’t enter my head. And it didn’t enter yours, either.’ He paused before softly adding, ‘What do you think that says about our need for each other?’

She didn’t answer.

Luc called out to Matt, bringing him back in line with them, taking his hand—a hand that was readily given, unlike hers. Skye wondered if Luc would stoop to seriously playing Matt as a persuasive force in getting her to accept his proposal of marriage. Or was he simply counting on her own vulnerability to a connection with him?

She couldn’t block out the powerful attraction he exerted on her, yet marriage was something else entirely. No way was she going to rush into a decision. Six years was a huge gap to bridge and she was far too conscious of the murky waters that flowed all around them, making a foundation on which to build seem very rocky.

They proceeded to a harbourside restaurant where Luc had booked a table out on the open terrace so they could watch the colourful passing parade of people and the boats in the water—lots of boats on show this weekend, reminding Skye of how she had first met Luc and his brother.

It was at the end of her second year of university and she’d got a casual summer job in the supply shop at the big Cronulla marina. The Peretti family had owned a huge waterfront home nearby in those days. Probably still did. She and her mother had moved from the adjoining suburb of Caringbah after her stepfather had deserted them.

But that summer, the Peretti brothers had sailed every weekend. She had met Roberto first, serving him in the shop. He’d flirted with her and she’d thought him a rather gorgeous playboy until Luc had appeared, completely knocking out the attraction of his younger brother. It wasn’t so much he was better looking, more that he somehow made Roberto seem lightweight in comparison, instantly relegated to the sidelines.

He still had that power.

Skye glanced around the men seated at other tables, the men walking by…all of them paled in comparison to Luc. He commanded attention, compelled attention, and she knew she was in a hopeless position, trying to hold him at a distance when he was intent on reclaiming her.

After lunch they strolled down to the playground area where Luc directed that he and Skye sit on a grassy bank, watching how brave Matt was at using the slippery dip by himself. Encouraged to show off, Matt was only too eager to demonstrate to his father how capable he was of using all the playground equipment, which neatly took him out of earshot.

Skye resigned herself to another private conversation with Luc, knowing there was no ultimate way of avoiding it. One way or another, he’d make the opportunity. Besides, her nerves were so on edge waiting for it, she might as well get it over with. They sat side by side, their knees hitched up, arms resting on them, no doubt looking very relaxed together to Matt, and at least Luc made no move to get closer.

‘Let’s discuss marriage,’ he started without any preamble.

Skye plucked a blade of grass and began slowly shredding it as she struggled to put her thoughts into some kind of sensible framework.

‘You’ve had time to think about it,’ Luc pressed.

‘I don’t know the man you are now,’ Skye said truthfully, keeping her focus on the strips of grass.

‘You want more time.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you are considering it.’

The satisfaction in his voice stirred rebellion against the pressure he was laying on her. ‘There’s a hell of a lot to consider, Luc.’

He came straight back with, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’

More pressure.

She slanted him a curious look. ‘Have you run the idea of marrying me past your parents, Luc?’

‘I didn’t discuss it with them, no. I told them flatly that they either accept you as my wife or lose me. And having just lost one son, I don’t think they’ll be inclined to buck my ultimatum.’

It shocked her speechless. She stared at him, stunned by the starkly drawn stand he had made, the sheer ruthlessness of his planning, and the assumption that they would marry, all laid out as though it was already decided.

‘When…’ Her mouth had gone so dry she had to work some moisture in it before managing to choke out the question skating through her dazed mind. ‘When did you tell them?’

‘After I faced my father with your accusation that he’d paid for an abortion,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘And the whole truth of what had happened six years ago was finally disclosed.’

Not this past week…much, much before…after coming face to face with her and Matt for the first time. He’d decided then! Was it to spite his father for keeping all knowledge of Matt from him—a vengeful act on his whole family for having sabotaged his right to choose whatever woman he wanted in his life?

‘Your parents won’t want me as your wife,’ she stated with utter certainty.

A hard relentless pride looked back at her. ‘They don’t have a choice.’

‘I do, Luc,’ she pointedly reminded him.

‘They will accept you, Skye. They have too much to lose if they don’t.’

‘I don’t want to be involved in your fight with them. I don’t want Matt to be a pawn in your game. He’ll feel it. He’ll know he’s not what they want. You can’t force approval from people when they don’t feel it inside.’

‘This is no game, Skye. Believe me, I’m deadly serious.’

Deadly was right, she thought.

‘My parents will love Matt. Unreservedly,’ he pushed on, laying out cogent arguments. ‘He’s their only grandchild and the only one they’ll have if you don’t marry me. Roberto is dead and his marriage produced no children. The whole future of the Peretti family is now narrowed down to our son.’ His smile held a dark wealth of satisfaction as he added, ‘That makes Matt very precious to them.’

A convulsive little shiver ran down Skye’s spine. ‘Don’t put that weight on me. Or Matt,’ she cried. ‘It’s not fair!’

‘I think it balances the scales very nicely. You should feel it does, too, Skye.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re taking advantage of your brother’s death. For all the wrong he did to me and to you, it doesn’t make this right. Nothing can make this right.’ It was incredibly painful to say it but she truly felt the alternative would cause even more pain. ‘You should marry someone else…leave Matt and me out of it.’

‘But I won’t, Skye.’ In a soft, insidiously invasive voice that curled around her heart, demanding entry, he added, ‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved…or will love.’

She jerked her head away, frightened of showing how deeply it touched her when she hadn’t realised herself how much it would mean.

He must have interpreted it as a negative reaction. With barely a pause he spoke in a much harder tone, determined possession underlining every word.

‘And Matt is my son.’