The Italian's Demand. SARA WOOD
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his mouth bitter. ‘Though she would have been obliged to let me see my son in return for financial assistance, wouldn’t she?’
The man was impossible. He’d driven Linda away! He’d forced his wife and child into debt and misery! Verity winced, anger welling up within her till she could contain it no longer.
‘You rat! You have no shame, no guilt—’
‘No!’ he cried, eyes blazing with a black fury. ‘None!’
‘At least we know where we stand,’ Verity flared. ‘You’re not going to change your behaviour one iota—’
‘I don’t need to!’
‘Right.’ She folded her arms belligerently. ‘Which brings us to Lio—’
‘Yes! Exactly. Lio! Where the devil was he when Linda was overdosing?’ he demanded. ‘Was he left on his own? Was he afraid, hungry, abandoned?’
Vittore hurled the questions at her like a rocket, his whole body poised on the edge of the sofa as if he was ready to leap up and shake her if she didn’t set his mind at rest.
‘No. Someone was with him,’ Verity said hastily. ‘Linda was out. She was found unconscious in the powder room of a local club. But there was a babysitter in the house. A young girl from nearby. You don’t think she’d leave her child alone, do you?’ she asked indignantly.
‘She has in the past. Nothing would surprise me,’ he muttered.
‘You’re determined to cast Linda as the wicked witch, aren’t you?’ she shot.
‘Just get on with the story.’
Her eyes flashed, her decision about Lio confirmed. She lifted her chin in a belligerent gesture and met his cynically mocking eyes without flinching.
‘When the police rang to tell me what had happened, they were here in the house. I could hear a child screaming in the background. I realised it was Lio and came at once. It took hours before I could calm him down. I’ve not left him since.’
‘He must come back with me at once,’ Vittore said with a frown. ‘Away from this place that reminds him of his mother. He needs to begin a new life with me.’
‘No!’ she cried forcefully, petrified at the prospect. ‘You can’t just take him away! I won’t let you! I won’t!’
Vittore froze. Ruthless, lacerating eyes pinned her in her seat for daring to deny him what he wanted. She cringed. Oh, yes. She’d been right. Under the sexy charm, she thought, lay a will of pure steel.
He rose to his feet, blasting her with the full force of his anger.
‘Can’t I? Watch me!’ he snarled.
She couldn’t move for shock. And to her horror, he strode grim-faced towards the door while she sat there, paralysed, not able to do anything to stop him.
Suddenly, adrenaline rushed into her numbed body and she found herself vaulting awkwardly over the back of the easy chair where she’d been sitting.
Stark fear lent her wings and she managed to reach the door before he did, flinging herself at it and flattening her back against the solid mahogany, her arms spread wide in an attitude of defence.
‘You’ve got to listen to me!’ she pleaded desperately. ‘You have to know why Lio must stay!’
The dark eyes were like chips of black ice. ‘Don’t make me hurt you, Verity,’ he growled menacingly. ‘Stand aside or I swear, I’ll forget everything I ever learned about treating women with courtesy and I will pull you away by force and I won’t care if I hurt you in the process. I’ve waited too long for this moment. Suffered too long. Nursed my hurt and my hatred till I thought I’d go insane, till my mother and my friends pulled me out of my despair and made me realise that I had to be ready for the day if I ever found Lio again.’
His voice grew husky and became so low in pitch that she could hardly hear. It seemed to vibrate through her body at a low and insistent level, reaching her compassionate heart and finding easy entry.
‘You can’t imagine what it’s been like for me all this time,’ he continued throatily. ‘Men aren’t supposed to be enslaved by their children as women are. But I was, from the moment he was born, and neither you nor anyone on earth will keep me from him a moment longer!’
His hands closed around her arms as if to hurl her aside and she quickly grabbed the lapels of his jacket to bind him to her. Vittore’s eyes flashed a warning. The heat of his chest burned into her flesh. The rock-hard solidity of him daunted her. But she meant to cling to him, limpet-like, Lio-like, till he listened.
‘If you care about him you’ll hear what I have to say! I keep trying to tell you! He’s not well!’ she yelled. And thus caught his attention.
‘Very convenient. You said he wasn’t ill just now,’ he observed in an icy, disbelieving drawl.
Her senses were heightened by terror. She could feel the hot flurry of his breath, could inhale his delicious aftershave, found herself dizzy from the magnetic power of his burning eyes. Frantically she fought off the fog that threatened to descend on her brain.
‘It’s not physical. It’s emotional. He’s suffering from separation anxiety,’ she gabbled. ‘And it’s serious.’
He searched her eyes and gradually realised she was telling the truth because a deep pain tautened her face, throwing the scimitar cheekbones into greater relief.
‘Explain,’ he rasped, his eyes bleak.
Thank heavens. Verity’s eyes closed briefly and her hands slid from his lapels, down the hot solidity of his chest. He would listen, she thought, as he took a step back. And, because he cared about Lio, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Would he?
‘Can we sit down?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘I’m so tired I can barely stand. You’ll understand why when I tell you.’
‘D’accordo,’ he rasped. ‘Agreed.’
His hand slipped beneath her elbow. Carefully he helped her—not to the chair, but to the sofa, which he also occupied. At his raised eyebrow of grim encouragement, she nodded, found her glass and took a gulp of whisky then began.
‘I don’t know what went on here before Linda died,’ she began, her voice shaking. Absently she curled her legs up under her, unconsciously making herself comfortable for the difficult explanation. ‘Maybe Lio was perfectly normal when she was alive, maybe he wasn’t. I’ve not found anyone around here who knew anything about him—’
‘The babysitter?’ he suggested, his expression grim.
Verity shook her head. ‘The night of Linda’s death was the first time the babysitter had been here—and she told me he’d been asleep when she’d arrived and he hadn’t woken. Whatever Lio was like before, he has problems now. You must understand something, Vittore. He has latched on to me and won’t let me out of his sight. A lot of the time he’s physically attached to me in one way or another. If he feels safe, then he’ll play a short distance away. But strangers worry him, and I can’t go anywhere without him running after me.’
‘What happens if you’re out of his sight?’
‘He screams,’ she said simply.
‘Is that all?’ Vittore exclaimed. He shook his head as if her methods left a lot to be desired. ‘If he yells out of sheer obstinacy, or has a tantrum, then the common practice is to ignore such bad behaviour,’ he said firmly. ‘You don’t reward anti-social conduct by giving it your attention.’
‘It’s not a tantrum!’ she cried in exasperation. ‘When you hear him, you’ll realise that. It’s sheer terror. It’s pitiful. It wrenches at my heart. Oh, I know this must not be what you want to hear, and I’m sorry to dash your hopes, but I’m convinced that Lio will go crazy if I disappear out of