The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen
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existence.
She closed her eyes, almost able to hear the damning words uttered with appropriate dramatic inflexion. The moral issue would be played out with stunning effect. With the added weight of Stefano’s wealth, she wouldn’t stand a chance of him being refused custody.
Without conscious thought she sank into a nearby chair in despair. Dear God, she agonised shakily. How could she do that to her daughter? Ann-Marie would be pulled and pushed between two people who no longer had anything in common, torn by divided loyalties, and unsure whether either parent’s affection was motivated by genuine love or a desire to hurt the other.
In years to come Ann-Marie would understand and comprehend the truth of her parents’ relationship. But what damage would be done between now and then? It didn’t bear thinking about.
There was really no choice. None at all.
Impossibly restless, she flung herself into completing a punishing few hours of housework, followed by a stint of ironing. At least it provided an outlet for her nervous tension, and she tumbled wearily into bed to toss and turn far into the early hours of the morning.
‘You look—terrible,’ Sarah declared with concern as Carly answered the door shortly after eleven. ‘Is Ann-Marie OK?’
‘She’s fine,’ Carly responded with a faint smile, then winced at the increasing pain in her head. ‘She’s dressing her doll in the bedroom and deciding what she should wear to Susy’s party this afternoon. Come on in, we’ll have some coffee.’
‘I’ll make the coffee, and get you something for that headache,’ Sarah insisted, suiting words to action with such admirable efficiency that Carly found herself seated at the dining-room table nursing a hot cup of delicious brew.
‘Now, tell me what’s wrong.’
Carly effected a faint shrugging gesture. ‘I must be feeling my age,’ she qualified with a faint smile. ‘One late night through the week, and it takes me the next two to get over it.’
‘OK,’ Sarah accepted. ‘So you don’t want to talk. Now take these tablets.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘Don’t be sassy with me, young woman. It won’t work,’ Sarah added with mock-severity.
‘How was your date with James?’ Carly queried in an attempt to divert the conversation away from herself.
‘We had dinner, we talked, then he delivered me home.’ Sarah lifted her shoulders in a non-committal gesture. ‘It was all right, I guess.’
‘That’s it?’ Carly looked slightly incredulous. ‘All right wraps it up?’
‘OK, so he was the perfect gentleman.’ Sarah’s expression became pensive. ‘I was surprised, that’s all.’
James was beginning to sound more astute by the minute.
‘He’s asked me out to dinner next Saturday evening,’ Sarah informed her quietly, and Carly applauded his perception in taking things slowly.
‘He sounds nice.’
‘I get the feeling he’s streets ahead of me,’ Sarah owned. ‘Almost as if he knows what I’m thinking and how I’ll react. It’s—uncanny.’
Carly sipped her coffee and attempted to ignore her headache. It would take at least ten minutes before the pain began to ease, maybe another ten before it retreated to a dull heaviness that would only be alleviated by rest. After she dropped Ann-Marie at Susy’s house, she’d come back and rest for an hour.
Sarah left a short while later, and Carly headed for a long leisurely shower, choosing to slip into tailored cotton trousers and a sleeveless top in eau-de-Nil silk. The pale colour looked cool and refreshing, and accentuated the deep auburn highlights of her hair and the clear honey of her skin.
Lunch was a light meal, for Ann-Marie was too excited to eat much in view of all the prospective fare available at Susy’s party.
‘Ready, darling?’
Ann-Marie’s small features creased into an expression of excited anticipation, and Carly felt a tug on her heartstrings.
‘Checklist time,’ she bade lightly with a smile. ‘Handkerchief? No last-minute need to visit the bathroom?’
‘Yes,’ Ann-Marie answered, retrieving a white linen square from the pocket of her dress. ‘And I just did. Can we go now?’
‘After you,’ Carly grinned, sweeping her arm in the direction of the front door.
The drive was a relatively short one, for Susy lived in a neighbouring suburb, and in no time at all Carly brought the car to a halt behind a neat row of several parked cars.
‘We’re cutting the cake at three,’ Susy’s mother bade with an expressive smile. ‘And I’m planning a reviving afternoon tea for the mothers at three-thirty while Susy opens her presents. I’d love you to be here if you can.’
Carly accepted the invitation, wished Susy ‘Happy Birthday’, then bent down to kiss Ann-Marie goodbye.
On returning home she garaged the car in its allotted space, sparing its slightly dusty paintwork a faint grimace as she closed and locked the door. Perhaps she could leave early and detour via a carwash.
The apartment seemed strangely empty, and she drifted into the kitchen to retrieve a cool drink from the refrigerator.
The buzz of the doorbell sounded loud in the silence of the apartment, and Carly frowned in momentary perplexity as she crossed the lounge. Sarah?
Instead, a tall, broad-shouldered, disturbingly familiar male frame filled the doorway.
The few seconds between recognition and comprehension seemed uncommonly long as she registered his dominating presence.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Whatever happened to hello?’ Stefano drawled, and his dry mocking tones sent an icy shiver down the length of her spine.
Her eyes sparked with visible anger, dark depths of sheer mahogany, and it irked her unbearably that she’d discarded her heeled sandals on entering the apartment, for it put her at a distinct disadvantage.
Impossibly tall, he towered head and shoulders above her, his impeccably tailored suit seeming incredibly formal on a day that was usually given to informality and relaxation.
Three nights ago his presence had shocked and dismayed her. Yesterday, she’d been momentarily numbed, grateful for the impartiality of his office. Now, there was no visible shield, no barrier, and she felt inordinately wary.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
He projected a dramatic mesh of elemental ruthlessness and primitive power, an intrinsic physical magnetism that teased her senses and rendered them intensely vulnerable.
Her chin lifted fractionally, her eyes locking with his, and she caught the lurking cynicism evident, almost as if he guessed the path her thoughts had taken and was silently amused by their passage.
‘What if I refuse?’ Brave words, given his sheer strength and indomitable will.
‘Would you prefer an amicable discussion, or have me channel everything through my lawyers?’
His voice was deadly quiet, and she felt the cold clutch of fear.
‘This isn’t a convenient time.’ She was mad, insane to thwart him continually, yet she was damned if she’d meekly stand aside and allow him entry into the privacy of her apartment.
His expression hardened, the assemblage of muscle and bone tautening into a chilling mask depicting controlled anger. ‘You’ve just returned from delivering our daughter to a birthday party. How long before you need to collect her? An hour? Two?’
Sheer rage rushed to the surface,