The Italian's Christmas Secret

‘That can all be arranged,’ he said. ‘But in turn, I need your reassurance that I can continue to see my son.’

There was surprise on her face now and he wondered if secretly she had expected him to cut all ties with his own flesh and blood.

‘Of course. You can see as much of Santino as you wish,’ she said quietly. ‘I will never deny you your son, Matteo, and I hope you will see him very often, because he...he needs you. You’re his daddy.’

A lump rose in his throat as he moved away from the blaze of the fire.

‘I’d like to say goodnight to him now,’ he said and she nodded and made as if to follow him.

‘Alone,’ he gritted out.

But Matteo’s heart was heavy as he walked towards the nursery—as if a dark stone had lodged itself deep inside his chest. The night light made the room appear soft and rosy and Matteo stared down at the sleeping child. He remembered the first time he had seen him. When he had counted his fingers and toes like someone learning basic mathematics, and had felt nothing.

But not this time.

This time he could barely make out any detail of his sleeping son, his vision was so blurred. Too late, his heart had cracked open and left room for emotion to come flooding in, powerfully and painfully. And Santino stirred as Matteo’s tears fell like rain onto the delicate white shawl.

CHAPTER TWELVE

IT WAS RAINING by the time Keira got back from her walk and she had just let Charlie off his lead when she noticed the letter lying in the centre of the hall table, where Claudia must have left it. She pulled a face. Another one.

The envelope carried an Italian stamp and the airmail sticker seemed to wink at her. Quickly, she slid it into a drawer to lie on top of all the others, because she couldn’t quite bring herself to throw them away. Her reluctance to dispose of the growing pile of correspondence was just about equal to her reluctance to read them, because they were from Matteo—she recognised his handwriting. And why would she wish to read them and risk making the hole in her heart even bigger? Why was he even writing to her when she’d told him it was better if all correspondence took place between their respective solicitors? Why had he arrogantly elected to take no notice?

Because she was fighting like crazy not to go under. Not to give into the tears which pricked at her eyes at night when she lay in bed missing the warm embrace of her estranged husband. She was determined to pour all her energies into being there for Santino—into being the best mother she possibly could—and she couldn’t manage that if her heart stayed raw and aching from thinking about Matteo all the time.

She’d wondered whether his determination to keep in close contact with his son would have faded once she and Santino had left Umbria but to her surprise, it hadn’t. He’d already paid two visits and they’d only been back in England a little over a fortnight. On both those occasions she had absented herself from the house, leaving Claudia in charge of the baby—Claudia who had been happy to accompany her from Umbria when Keira had made the emotional return to her homeland.

She supposed people might think it a form of cowardice that she couldn’t bear the thought of confronting the man with whom she hadn’t even shared a wedding night. But that was too bad. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, only what was right for her and her son. Sooner or later she hoped she’d be able to greet him with a genuine air of indifference but for now she didn’t trust herself not to burst into noisy howls of sorrow and to tell him how much she was missing him.

With the money he’d settled on her, she was renting a house. A house with a garden and a front door which wasn’t shared—the kind of house in Notting Hill where she used to drop off her prep-school charges when she was working at Luxury Limos. And she’d bought a dog, too. A scruffy little thing with a lopsided ear and the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. The staff at the rescue centre had told her he’d been badly beaten and was fearful and shy, but he had taken one look at Keira and hurled himself at her with a series of plaintive yelps. Charlie was the best thing to have happened to them since they’d returned to England and had reinforced her intention to give Santino a proper childhood. The kind she’d never had—with a dog and a mother who was always waiting for him when he got home from school.

Pulling off her rain-soaked coat, she went upstairs to the nursery where Claudia was just putting Santino down to sleep. The nursery nurse straightened up as Keira entered the room and she found herself wondering why Claudia’s cheeks were so pink. Walking over to the crib, Keira stared down into the sleepy eyes of her son, her heart turning over with love.

‘He looks happy,’ she murmured as she leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his silken cheek.

‘He should be!’ said Claudia. ‘After you took him out for such a long walk this morning.’

‘Good thing I did. At least we missed the rain,’ said Keira, with an idle glance out of the window as she drew the curtains.

There was a pause. ‘Would you mind if I went out earlier than planned?’ asked Claudia.

‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Keira smiled because she knew that Claudia had struck up a close friendship with a man she’d met at the Italian Embassy. ‘Hot date?’

Claudia smiled as she put her forefinger over her lips and Keira was so preoccupied with tidying up the nursery that she barely registered the nursery nurse leaving the room, though she did hear the distant bang of the front door. She turned the light out and was just about to make her way downstairs when her mobile phone began to ring and she pulled it from the pocket of her jeans, frowning when she saw Matteo’s name flashing up on the screen.

Fury began to bubble up inside her. She’d asked him not to write and he had ignored that. She’d asked him not to call her and he was ignoring that too! So why now, coming straight after yet another unwanted letter from him? She clicked the connection.

‘This had better be urgent,’ she said.

‘It is.’

She frowned as she registered a curious echo-like quality to his voice. ‘And?’

‘I need to see you.’

She needed to see him too, but no good would come of it. Wouldn’t it make her hunger for what she could never have and certainly didn’t need—a man who had lured a woman into marriage just because he wanted to inherit a house? ‘I thought we’d decided that wasn’t a good idea.’

‘No, Keira...you decided.’