Her Sicilian Baby Revelation / The Greek's One-Night Heir. Natalie Anderson
Читать онлайн книгу.
share the same air as him?
Speaking through gritted teeth, she said, ‘You’ve known about Finn’s existence for five minutes and you’ve spent most of that time threatening me and calling me a liar and now you want to marry me? Are you sure you’re not drunk?’
His eyes didn’t so much as flicker. ‘I want my son to have my name and to be recognised as his father.’
‘You can have that without marriage.’
‘My son deserves…’
The turmoil that had been with her all the previous day and had still been there the moment she’d opened her eyes that morning reached its peak. ‘Will you stop with all this “my son” malarkey?’ she suddenly exploded. ‘You know nothing about Finn and for you to keep referring to him as yours is doing my head in!’
He straightened, his face twisting with contempt. ‘If you hadn’t selfishly kept him to yourself, I would already know everything about him. I am his father, Orla, and I will damned well be a part of his life and take on all the responsibility being his father entails.’
Her temper evaporated to be replaced by shame at her outburst. Bowing her head, she covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply, in and out, in and out, trying desperately to hold back the threatening tears. Only when she was certain that she could speak without opening the floodgates did she look at him again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I know you’re his father. I know you have every right to be a part of his life but it’s really hard to listen to all your threats and demands when you have no idea what our lives have been like and the struggles we’ve had to deal with. You can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to roll over and go with it. You need to earn your right to be Finn’s father.’
Just as she’d had to earn the right to be Finn’s mother.
When Orla had finally been allowed home from the rehabilitation centre, Finn had been eighteen months old and, although too young to understand the concept of parenthood, he’d regarded Aislin as his mother. She would never admit it to Aislin or anyone but seeing her own child naturally gravitate to her sister had been unbearable. It had taken a good year before Finn had turned to Orla when he needed help or comfort.
Tonino’s eyes narrowed. The weight of his scrutiny increased but she detected a softening in his stance. ‘Then stop fighting me and do what’s best for Finn.’
‘That’s all I’ve ever done.’
‘Then marry me.’
Her heart beating fast, Orla found herself scrutinising Tonino with the same intensity he scrutinised her, trying hard to look past the breathtakingly gorgeous features for what was going on in his head. Unfortunately, the mind-reading powers she’d always hoped to one day achieve were as elusive as ever. ‘Marriage is not the answer. An unhappy marriage does nothing but produce unhappy children. Finn’s a happy child who’s suffered enough disruption in his life.’
‘There is no reason we could not be happy.’ Eyes remaining fixed on her, he reclined back in his seat. ‘We were good together once.’
‘We were together for barely ten days.’ She would not cause another argument by pointing out that in that time he’d actively let her believe a lie. ‘We don’t know each other.’
‘We know the most important thing.’
‘Which is?’
‘Our compatibility.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You and me…’ He hooked an ankle on a muscular thigh. Something glimmered in his eyes that sent Orla’s pulses surging. His voice lowered to an appreciative murmur. ‘I remember us as being extremely compatible.’
Something deep inside her heated and throbbed with such force that whatever she’d been about to say stuck on her tongue. Gazing into his eyes was like looking into a chocolate pool swirling with brilliance, and the tight pulsations heating her core spread through her veins and danced onto her skin, every nerve ending in her body stirring, every atom screaming loudly its agreement at his words.
Suddenly fearful of being hypnotised by the whirling depths, Orla wrenched her gaze from him and stared back out of the window, trying her hardest to breathe normally.
She’d prepared herself for more threats and arguments. She had not been prepared for a proposal or caressing words. Given the sticky turmoil raging through her, she thought she preferred the threats and arguments.
Even with her back turned from him, she could feel the heat of his stare penetrating her skin.
Folding her arms across her chest, she rubbed her feeble biceps and closed her eyes.
She remembered waking in Tonino’s arms the morning after their first night together, dazed but replete. She remembered the sensation that had flooded her veins and heated her skin at his touch.
But the actual memories of them being intimate together remained locked away. She hoped they never returned. She didn’t think she could bear to remember how she had given herself to a man who’d only been using her for his own fun.
Dragging more air into her lungs, she cleared her throat. ‘I don’t want to marry you, period. It would be a disaster.’
Tonino had known getting Orla’s agreement for marriage would be a long shot but once the idea had come to him, he’d recognised it as the answer to all their problems. Marriage would solve everything in a neat, orderly fashion. How could he be an effective father if he lived in a different country from his child?
He would have to work on her and make her see that it would be in Finn’s best interest for them all to live under the same roof. Given a little time to dismantle the barriers between them, Orla would come around to his way of thinking. The chemistry that had drawn them together four years ago still burned. He felt its scorch with every word and look exchanged between them. And she felt it too. Every time she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears he was reminded of all the times she’d done that before and all the other little gestures he recognised as uniquely Orla.
She’d been a breath of fresh air in a world he’d never recognised as cynical until she’d entered it and liberated him. For ten magnificent days he had lived for the moment with the first woman he’d been intimate with who had no idea who he really was. Her every response had been organic. She’d been a virgin but making love to her for the first time…it had felt as if it were his first time too.
Their chemistry was the one thing he didn’t need a lie detector for. The urge to touch her breathed through his skin and it took all his strength to keep his focus on the job at hand.
‘If you won’t marry me then I will come to Ireland with you and have my name added to Finn’s birth certificate.’ He would not accept anything less than being a true father to his son.
Her body immediately struck a defensive pose. ‘That can wait.’
‘No, dolcezza, it cannot.’ Getting to his feet, he joined her at the window. She must have sensed his closeness for her back stiffened and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
How many nights had he dreamt of that simple non-seductive gesture?
Orla was the only lover whose scent he could remember simply by closing his eyes. Close his eyes and he could remember the feel of her skin beneath his fingers.
Close his eyes and he could remember the bewilderment to find her gone.
He would close his eyes no more. With Orla, he needed to keep his eyes open and his wits sharpened. Whatever happened from this moment, he would never let her disappear again.
‘I understand why I’ve not been named on it but it has to be done.’ He couldn’t force her to marry him—more was the pity—but he would do whatever was necessary to close off her options to flee.
Her head turned