The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand. Sara Craven
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down, driven by sheer willpower. He stood up, waiting by the park bench, watching her approach, his dark brilliant eyes keenly observing everything about her.
She was glad she’d armoured herself with sunglasses. Not only did they hide her thoughts and feelings, but they allowed her to return his scrutiny without being obvious about it. Again he was wearing casual clothes; beige cotton slacks, a loose cotton knit top in white and beige, V-necked, short sleeves—very smart, undoubtedly expensive, but not intimidating.
Skye surmised he hadn’t come to throw his weight around. Or were the clothes another deception, meant to put her off-guard while he set up the big guns to attack her position?
His mouth twitched into a sensual little smile, making her acutely conscious that her sundress left a lot of flesh bare.
Was it possible he still found her desirable?
Her stomach curled at the thought.
Worse—her pulse-rate zoomed into overdrive as his smile widened and his eyes warmed with pleasure.
‘Good to see you again, Skye,’ he said with what seemed genuine sincerity.
Her mind jammed for a moment, then spun with wild speculation. Was this manner aimed at winning her compliance with whatever he wanted? Did he think she could forget how he’d spurned her? Casting her out of his life on the very night she’d meant to tell him she was pregnant with his child!
A surge of anger spilled into a bitter outpouring. ‘I can’t say it’s good to see you, Luc. I only came to return your cheque. To place it in your hands personally so it can’t get mislaid or misappropriated or mis…anything else.’
She started fumbling with her handbag, desperately eager to get the zippered compartment open, extract the cheque, get rid of the burden of Peretti money.
‘Skye, you’re owed child support for the past five years,’ he argued in a gentle, soothing tone. ‘The law courts would award it to you.’
‘I don’t want it. I didn’t ask for it,’ she gabbled. The wretched zipper had stuck. ‘I didn’t know my stepfather had gone to your family for money until he handed me the thousand dollars for…for…’
‘Yes, that was very clever of him, handing over enough money to convince you it was meant for an abortion. Which, of course, neatly tied off the scam for him. No child. No more interest from the Peretti family. No comeback for him to worry about.’
Luc rolled off his interpretation of the situation so fast, Skye was distracted by how closely it matched her own anguished reasoning. She stopped struggling with the zipper to stare at him. ‘You believe me?’
‘Without a doubt,’ he assured her.
Which instantly played havoc with her heart. If only he had believed her against his brother and those terrible photos…
‘It’s abundantly clear that your stepfather saw the opportunity to milk the situation for all he could get, intending to feather his own nest,’ Luc went on, reminding Skye he was working off evidence this time, as well.
His belief in her word meant nothing!
Easy enough to deduce the truth from the investigator’s report, which had supplied the date when her stepfather had left Sydney, flitting off to the Gold Coast in Queensland. It had also stated the money had been gambled away and her stepfather’s current credit rating was not only nil, but criminal charges were pending over embezzlement at the used car yard where he’d worked as a salesman.
Her stepfather!
Skye burned over the rotten deception he’d played.
‘At least he isn’t my real father,’ she flashed at Luc. ‘I don’t have to live with him like you do yours.’
Maurizio Peretti had also played a rotten deception, keeping the news of her pregnancy from Luc, intent on feathering his nest with the right kind of woman for his precious son.
Skye resumed tugging at the zipper, telling herself it was stupid to be affected by anything Luc said. He had probably moved on to relationships with women who were far more compatible with his family. Which would make his father’s judgement ultimately right.
‘My father has been made very aware of my feelings about his past actions on my behalf,’ Luc answered grimly. ‘He knows not to interfere between us again.’
‘I just don’t want him or you or anybody employed by your family to interfere with me,’ Skye said fiercely, finally getting the zipper open, removing the cheque and thrusting it at Luc. ‘Take back your blood money. It won’t buy me or Matt.’
He shook his head, leaving the cheque hanging from her hand. ‘It wasn’t meant to buy you, Skye. It was meant to contribute what a father should, at least in financial support, towards his child’s upbringing.’
‘I’ve managed without it all these years and I much prefer to keep it that way.’
‘It wasn’t right that you had to manage alone,’ he strongly demurred.
‘Do you think this makes anything right, Luc?’ she mocked savagely.
‘It can help.’
‘No. We occupy different worlds and Matt belongs in mine. It won’t be good for him to have that line blurred by your money. I won’t have it. Please…take it back.’
Again he shook his head.
Frustrated by his refusal and hating even the feel of the paper representing an obscene amount of money, she ripped it into pieces, marched over to a nearby litter bin and dropped the fragments into it, determined on making the point that he couldn’t buy into his son’s life.
‘Money corrupts,’ she flung at him as she wiped her hands of its touch. ‘We both have firsthand knowledge of that, don’t we, Luc?’
‘It can, but it doesn’t have to,’ he argued. ‘It can be used to good effect. Which was what it was meant for.’
Maybe…maybe not. Skye knew she wasn’t prepared to risk finding out how good the intentions were behind so much money. She walked back from the litter bin, feeling lighter and more self-assured. ‘I can manage without it,’ she said with confidence. ‘I’ve proved that already. Matt is a happy, well-adjusted little boy. He doesn’t need—’
‘You’re not thinking of him,’ Luc sliced in, an aggressive note of accusation warning her he was going on the attack now that she had destroyed the money link he’d tried to forge. No more soothing. ‘You’ve made this choice because it’s what you want,’ he threw at her.
‘I’m his mother,’ she retorted, ramming home the close relationship he’d never had with their child. ‘I know what’s best for him.’
‘Like my father knew what was best for me?’ he shot back, bleak mockery in his eyes.
The challenge and the expression behind it gave Skye pause for thought. It was true she was reacting to her previous experience with the Peretti family, not wanting anything to do with them, not wanting Matt to have anything to do with them, either. But was she doing right by…their son?
Her gut feeling was yes.
Or was that fear talking—fear of becoming involved in something she might not be able to control.
Controlling the path of his son’s life was what Maurizio Peretti had been about in breaking up her relationship with Luc. Was she heading the same way herself with Matt, making decisions for him she had no right to make?
‘Can you honestly say, six years down the track, that your father didn’t know what was best for you?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I can,’ Luc replied without hesitation. His eyes bored into hers with searing intensity as he softly added, ‘I lost you. And I lost five years of my son’s life.’
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