The Italian's Demand. SARA WOOD
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water dropping onto her bare shoulders, she reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped dead, gazing at her inscrutably.
It was like gripping tensile steel. Alarmed by the illogical intimacy of what she was doing, Verity snatched her hand away. Tingles were whizzing up and down her arm. The man was electric, she thought in confusion. And, heaven help her, she’d just been switched on.
‘Yes?’ he growled, in a deeply husky voice that somehow made her knees turn to water.
She swallowed, some crazily diverted part of her brain mulling over the fact that he seemed to extend words, savouring them in his mouth and letting them roll out in an unnervingly sexy way. That was Italians for you.
‘You’ve got to promise,’ she breathed, astonishingly still not in full control of her lungs. Or anything else for that matter. Fear did funny things to the body.
‘Promise what?’
Valiantly she pulled the wandering strands of her brain together and licked her dry lips till she could speak again.
‘Promise not to wake him!’ she croaked.
‘So. You care about my son,’ he observed, scrutinising her anxious face as if interested in every detail.
‘Yes! I adore him, every little scrap of him!’ she cried, all the passion in her heart filling that declaration with a fierce intensity. ‘From his little toes to the top of his blond head!’
For a moment his watchful eyes seemed to soften. She did, too. He was mesmeric. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his.
‘I won’t wake him,’ he promised, solemnly gazing deep into her eyes. ‘Just…’ It seemed that emotion had got the better of him. For a second or two she watched wide-eyed while he steadied himself again. ‘You will understand,’ he said softly, ‘that naturally I am anxious to see him after all this time.’
‘But not take him!’ she faltered.
‘That, Verity, is why I’m here,’ he pointed out drily.
She felt faint. ‘You mean you’re just going to pick him up out of his bed and shove him in your car and drive away?’ she cried in horror.
Vittore flinched. ‘Do I look like a barbarian?’ he asked coldly.
‘I don’t know what barbarians look like, do I? I have to protect him!’ she jerked in distress. ‘I am his guardian!’
His brows dipped together alarmingly and she realised she’d insulted him unforgivably by suggesting he was an uncouth savage.
‘Is this a legal guardianship? An official arrangement with signed agreements, ratified by a solicitor?’ he shot at her unfairly.
She shuffled her feet, unable to lie but wishing she could.
‘N-no—’
‘Then you have no right in law where he is concerned,’ he said, crushing any hopes she might have harboured.
‘Law! What does the law matter—?’ she began hotly.
‘Everything!’ he barked. ‘Now listen, Verity. I’ve had enough of your hostility and suspicion. I suppose you’ve had Linda’s version of events. Well, this is mine—’
‘I know all about you!’ she yelled.
‘No, you don’t! You’ve heard nothing but lies. You will listen if I have to tie you up and gag you first!’ he raged.
She cringed back, frightened by his raw anger. She might have to call the police if he got violent. But her best bet would be to humour him, let him see Lio and then give him the facts.
‘I’m listening,’ she said coldly. ‘Go ahead.’
He folded his arms, his eyes dark and brooding and she realised that the bleakness of his expression was actually nothing to do with her, but some pain he’d held within him for a long time. Something in her suddenly sympathetic expression must have soothed him, because he gave a helpless gesture with his hands and muttered a curt, ‘Thank you.’
Then he fixed her with his penetrating eyes and began.
‘Fourteen months ago, Linda abducted Lio from my house,’ he said stiltedly. ‘I had no warning. When I left for work, he was there. When I came home, he and his mother had gone. Linda’s dressing room was empty and all of Lio’s clothes had been taken away. I heard nothing. Knew nothing. My son had vanished off the face of the earth. For all that time, I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Until this morning—’
Verity felt his pain, her stomach constricting with horror. ‘I can’t believe this!’ she gasped. ‘You thought he might be dead? That’s terrible! How could you bear it? If what you say is true—’
‘True? Of course it’s true!’ he exploded. ‘Why would I pretend otherwise?’ he fumed. ‘Do you think I enjoy tormenting myself with the memory of the suffering I endured at the hands of your adoptive sister?’
She flushed. ‘I don’t know! I have two conflicting stories and I’m confused! It’s just that it was such an extraordinarily cruel thing to do, and…’
‘It was,’ he rasped. ‘How else could Linda deal me a mortal wound?’
‘Oh!’ Verity breathed, wide-eyed with shock. What had happened between him and Linda, she wondered? ‘She must have hated you very much!’
Pain etched lines around his eyes and mouth. ‘I’m not discussing her any further,’ he said tightly.
She knew when not to probe. There were terrible undercurrents here she knew nothing about. To do something so drastic, Linda must have been provoked beyond endurance!
Verity’s eyes grew even larger with apprehension. She leaned against the banister, clutching at it for support, even more determined not to hand her precious, needy Lio over to this deeply flawed man.
‘I didn’t have the full story, obviously.’ Her chin lifted in a stubborn gesture, huge violet eyes flashing in warning. She vowed that she’d get to the bottom of this before she let Vittore touch a hair of Lio’s head! ‘I don’t think I have it now—’
‘Verity,’ he muttered tautly, barely controlling his temper, ‘I am trying to remember my manners, but I am becoming increasingly impatient. Control comes easily to me—except where my passions are fiercely engaged. As they are now. For the last time—are you going to show me where Lio is, or do I search for him myself?’
‘I’m afraid you’ll take him away!’ she jerked.
‘Of course I will!’ he flared. ‘He is my flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone! Sweet heaven, I have held him in my heart and ached for him every hour of every day since he was taken from me!’
His words rang true and touched a chord in her. He wanted his son. Had a right to him. Her head bowed in defeat and drops of water fell from her swinging hair, staining the front of her dress. The painful thought of losing Lio felt like a dozen daggers in her breast. Imagining little Lio’s anguish only added to her pain.
‘Oh, no!’ she groaned. ‘No…’
As her despairing body wilted and it seemed she’d fall, strong hands caught her arms, holding her up as if she were weightless. Dizziness claimed her but she knew she had to stay alert and desperately struggled to focus her mind.
‘Verity!’ he muttered urgently. ‘Whatever is the matter?’
‘Terror!’ she blurted out tearfully.
‘What?’ His perplexed face was close to hers, a blur of golden skin and strong, white teeth. ‘Explain!’ he demanded.
Tipping up her plaintive face to his, she tried not to drown in the dark liquid eyes.
‘I’m t-terrified you’ll walk off with him now. He’s only a baby, Vittore and he’ll