Page 11 of Italian Baby Shock

‘Sorry,’ she said, steeling herself. ‘But I don’t believe you. And as to the rest of your promises, like I said, I’m going to need them and that apology, in writing.’

He eyed her. ‘I would not lie to you. Not about that night.’

‘I don’t care. If I don’t have your signature on a piece of paper agreeing to all those things you just said, then you’re not going to see Maya.’

His expression tightened a moment, then it smoothed and he shrugged as if none of this was of any moment. ‘Very well. I will have my legal team draw up something for you.’

Lark, expecting him to keep arguing, gave him a suspicious look. Had she missed something? Was there a catch somewhere perhaps?

You catch more flies with honey, don’t forget.

Oh, she couldn’t forget. She had to stay calm, stay polite. Bury her outrage. However, she wasn’t going to let him get away with dictating everything. He might have all the money and all the power, but she was Maya’s mother. And if he wanted access, then he’d have to go through Lark to get it.

‘Thank you.’ She kept her voice cool.

‘So, how long are you here?’

‘Just tonight. I’ll be flying back to London tomorrow. I want to get back to Maya as soon as I can.’

‘Of course, you do,’ he said. ‘Would you prefer to leave tonight?’

Her gaze narrowed. Why was he being so agreeable now? ‘I would, yes,’ she said. ‘But there were no flights available tonight and I wasn’t sure how long it would take being here.’

‘It will take no time at all,’ he said smoothly. ‘What time would you like to fly home?’

She stared at him, taken aback. ‘All the flights were full. At least they were when I last checked.’

‘They are not full.’ There was nothing but supreme confidence in his voice. ‘My jet can accommodate you.’

Lark blinked. ‘Your what?’

‘My private jet. It can leave whenever we’re ready.’

‘Wait.’ Her gut tightened. ‘What do you mean ‘we’?’

His eyes gleamed, hot and blue. ‘I mean, I’ll be coming with you.’

‘No,’ Lark said, anger once more leaping in her eyes. ‘You absolutely will not.’

He’d been expecting her to say that, but unfortunately, he wasn’t going to give her any choice. He’d be coming to London with or without her, because now that she’d agreed to his deal—and he was glad she had—he’d decided that he wanted to see his daughter ASAP.

‘Fine,’ he said easily. ‘Then I’ll take my jet and you can fly commercial. I hope you can find a flight tonight, but if not, we can meet tomorrow in London.’

Her chin jutted, her expression tightening with frustration. ‘Why do you want to come to London at all?’

He shouldn’t feel pleased that he was getting to her or satisfied, because really, who was she to him? A one-night stand two years ago, that was all. Yet, he couldn’t deny that he was relishing the anger in her lovely eyes and the stain of pink in her pretty skin. And the primitive male part of him wanted to keep pushing her, find out exactly how much she remembered of the night they’d spent together. Because he was sure that even if the injury had wiped her memory, her body hadn’t forgotten him.

Her mouth had been soft under his when he’d kissed her, her hands on his chest exerting no pressure. She hadn’t avoided his kiss and the pulse at the base of her throat had been beating hard and fast. Her pupils had been dilated as he’d raised his head, and he was sure the flush in her cheeks hadn’t been anger then.

Until she’d pushed him away, of course, which she’d had every right to do.

Still, her body remembered and he was tempted, so tempted, to test that. Then again, she’d had to push him away because he’d forgotten himself and if one kiss had the power to do that to him, then testing her might very well test him, and he couldn’t afford that. Not again. That night had been a one-off and he hadn’t changed his mind.

In fact, perhaps it was even a blessing that she didn’t remember. That way he didn’t need to fight his own urge to revisit it as well as hers, since obviously if she had remembered, she’d want another night. They all did.

So there would be no more kisses, and whatever chemistry was between them, he’d let it lie. He didn’t need to revisit that particular memory and he wasn’t going to.

‘Obviously I need to speak with Mr Ravenswood personally,’ he said. ‘And the sooner the better. I would also like to visit my daughter.’

---