Page 12 of Italian Baby Shock

Lark looked as if she wanted to shout at him again, and it was probably wrong of him to hope that she might. She was like an angry kitten, all small and soft, turning her sharp claws on him, and part of him wanted to see what else she might do if he got her really wound up.

She hadn’t been like that the night they’d had in Rome. She’d talked to him openly about her life and how much she’d loved her mother. There had been something about a custody battle with her French father, and how her mother had taken her away to bring her up in Australia. How they’d had to move around a lot in case anyone found them.

He’d been intrigued by the story and had empathised with her, making oblique references to his own struggles with his parents, though he hadn’t told her the whole truth.

About how his mother had ultimately tried to kill him and then his father had shot her and then himself. That had been too dark a story and he hadn’t wanted to go into it.

Lark had been so sympathetic and concerned at what he had told her. They’d been sitting in the library of his villa and she’d been leaning forward, listening. Then once he’d told her all about it, she’d put one small hand over his and that had been all it had taken for their steadily building chemistry to ignite.

Her touch had burned and when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d seen all that sea-green catch alight too, and when he’d pulled her into his arms, she hadn’t resisted. Her mouth had been soft and hot, opening beneath his as if they were lovers already, and her arms had twined around his neck. She’d clung to him as if she hadn’t been able to bear letting him go.

But he couldn’t think about that night. It was over and done with.

‘You can’t see Maya,’ Lark snapped. ‘I forbid it.’

‘Very well,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Then I’ll wait until after the paternity test results come through.’

‘You’ll be waiting a while, so you won’t need to come to London now, will you?’

‘On the contrary. I can get test results the same day, and of course I’ll need to meet with Ravenswood.’

She was breathing very fast, anger glittering in her eyes.

You are being unfair. She’s Maya’s mother and she’s likely to be in shock. Why are you letting your wounded pride get to you?

The thought sent a sharp jolt through him. His pride wasn’t wounded, of course it wasn’t. And one woman not remembering their one-night stand didn’t affect him in the slightest. His child was important and worth fighting for, that was all. It was true that if she’d indeed had an accident, then it wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t let him know about Maya’s existence. It was also fair to say that since he was a complete stranger to her, him threatening to take her daughter must be frightening. Especially considering what she’d told him about her own father and how he’d pursued her and her mother.

It was clear she thought Cesare would do the same and doing nothing to dispel her doubts wasn’t helping either of them.

Cesare had always been sure of himself and of what he wanted, and anger had propelled him to take charge of Donati Bank and institute all the changes his father had always refused to make, hauling a centuries-old bank into the twenty-first century.

He’d got rid of the accounts of tax evaders and money launderers, of arms dealers and drug barons, of dictators and terrorists. He made transparent secretive bank practices and opened special accounts for charities with excellent interest rates, zero fees and competitive financial management services.

Burning the old rules of his ancestors made Donati Bankbetter.

But anger wasn’t his fuel any longer. Like love, it was a toxic emotion and one he’d put away. He still didn’t much care for the emotions of others, though, and yet he was contemplating Lark’s feelings now and it concerned him that he felt almost...guilty for threatening her. She was only defending her child and in her place he would have done the same. In fact, he’d probably have done worse.

‘I just want to see her, little bird,’ he said, softening his tone slightly. ‘I’m not going to take her away from you.’

Lark’s expression remained suspicious and angry. ‘Why do you call me that?’

Something inside him jolted. He hadn’t realised he’d even said it and now he had the impression that he’d said it more than once. ‘I called you that in our night together,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘You liked it.’

‘Well, I don’t now.’ She eyed him. ‘Nothing I say to you will make you change your mind will it?’

He was adaptable, it was true, but once a course of action had been decided on, he never changed it. Especially if he felt strongly about that course of action, and he did now.

‘No,’ he said. ‘It will not.’ He held her gaze, let her see the truth. Let her see the ruthlessness that made him a Donati of old through and through. He’d been brought up to be as terrible as his ancestors and he was. He made no apology for that.

But he would be the last of them.

Maya would be the first of a better, brighter generation. A kinder generation.

He’d make sure of it.

Lark took a breath and glanced away. Her hands uncurled from their fists, fingers stretching out a couple of times as if she was trying to relax them.

‘Fine,’ she said after a moment, looking back at him. ‘But she’ll be asleep when we get home and I’m not waking herup just so you can see her. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.’

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