Page 17 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

‘On one condition.’

He arched a brow, but said nothing.

Abby hadn’t been sure what she wanted to say, only that she knew she had to demand something of him—anything—to assert her position as an intelligent woman. Yielding power to him would be a disaster. ‘If I move to Italy and marry you—’

‘When,’ he interrupted, his expression daring her to disagree.

‘When I marry you,’ she agreed with soft defiance, ‘you’ll be a good father to him. You’ll spend time with him. He’s not a trophy son to be loved on Christmases and birthdays. I’m only doing this for Raf, so he’ll have what I…’

The sentence tapered off, a sense of betrayal forestalling her from adding: what I never had.

But Gabe knew. He understood what kind of father she’d had, or rather hadn’t.

‘I will be a hands-on father, Abigail. You can rest assured on that score.’

She expelled a soft breath. He would be a good father; she had no doubts. He might hate her, and perhaps with good reason, but she could see how much he wanted this, how much he already loved their son.

‘Fine,’ she said, holding his gaze even when she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and blot out reality for a little longer.

There was a brief glimmer of triumph in the coal-dark depths of his eyes, but then he nodded. ‘We’ll leave in the morning.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘WHERE ARE WE going to, Mamma?’ Gabe asked, his six-year-old self huddled beside Marina’s slim frame.

‘On an adventure, darling. Far from here. To a happy place, full of sunshine and oceans and friendly people.’

‘Sunshine all the time?’

‘Yes, Gabe. Somewhere life will be kind, where you will be happy, and me too.’ She crouched down, her eyes meeting his. ‘And your father.’

‘Papà?’

‘Sì.’

‘He’s going to come with us?’

‘He’ll visit.’ She smiled mysteriously. He didn’t see Marina smile often. It was nice. He was glad.

‘I’ll get to meet my father?’

‘You will.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sweet. ‘He gave me this, for you. For the flight.’

‘We’re going on an aeroplane?’

‘Oh, yes, Gabe. Australia is far away, across many oceans. It will take a long time to get there, but it’s worth it.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because when I was a little girl, I lived there, and I loved it. And because your father says so, dolci, and he’s never wrong. He’s going to take care of us from now on. No more struggling, no more worries. Just sunshine and happiness for you and me.’ She kissed his head and ruffled his hair, and then smiled in a way he hadn’t known her capable of. ‘Pack your bag, little love. It’s time to go.’

* * *

He slept in the lounge. Abby hadn’t expected that, but at one point during the night, having tossed and turned for hours, she got up to get a glass of water and saw Gabe’s broad sleeping frame huddled in the dilapidated recliner nearest to the window. It was a tatty chair, but it was her favourite spot to curl up in and read a book.

The sight of his body crumpled into it arrested her in her tracks. She froze, just inside the kitchenette, her eyes hungrily devouring every single detail in a way she’d never have allowed herself to do were he awake.

He’d stripped off his suit jacket and discarded it over the back of another chair, and his tie too. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing the strong, thick column of his neck, and his sleeves were pushed up to reveal tanned forearms.

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