The Italian's Love-Child

For there, leaning against an unfamiliar silver car, stood a figure, as still and as all-seeing as if he had been hewn from a deep, dark marble. He was dressed all in black, and it made his hair and eyes look like the night. For one wild and crazy moment she thought about running inside, like a woman seeking refuge from the storm, but she knew that she could not.

She had to face him.

He studied her almost obsessively, searching for signs. Any signs. But the thick, sheepskin coat she wore enveloped her like a big, warm cloud and all he could see was her pale face and the green-grey eyes which glittered so warily at him.

He began to walk towards her.

‘Hello, Eve.’

‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ Desperately, she looked around the car park, deserted save for the swish silver car he had been standing beside. Where the hell was her driver? He was never late.

‘I think we need to talk,’ he said steadily. Last time he had been caught off guard in all kinds of ways. He had flown off the handle and raged in a manner which was guaranteed to achieve nothing. And Luca had always been an achiever.

She turned to him, unprepared for the effect he had on her. The way her heart crashed against her ribcage. The way her legs felt weak. She should feel nothing but contempt for him, the same as he so obviously did for her—so why wasn’t it that easy? Why did she still feel outrageously attracted to him? But that was purely physical, she reminded herself. And she was more than just a physical person. Much more.

‘I don’t think you understand, Luca,’ she said quietly. ‘In a minute my driver will be here and I will get in the car and go home. Without you.’

‘I am afraid that is where you are wrong.’

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

‘Your driver has gone. I sent him away.’

‘You sent him away?’ she repeated disbelievingly.

He pointed to the long, low silver machine. ‘I have a car and I will take you anywhere you want to go, but I need to talk to you and I will talk to you. You owe me that.’

She hugged her coat tighter around her. ‘I owe you nothing after the despicable things you accused me of.’

Again, he nodded, sucking in a deep, dry breath. ‘I had no right to make those accusations, but I was…’

Her eyes were curious. ‘What?’

He sighed. ‘I felt as though my whole world had been detonated.’

‘So the thought of fatherhood didn’t appeal?’ she said flippantly, because that seemed the only surefire way to hide her hurt. She shrugged. ‘Then there’s nothing left to say, really, is there?’

He froze. ‘Are you telling me that there is no baby?’

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to dawn on her and, when they did, it was once again like being hit by a hammer-blow. Did he think…did he really think…?

‘God, Luca,’ she gasped, as if he really had struck her. ‘Could your opinion of me get any lower?’

‘What am I supposed to think?’ he demanded heatedly. ‘When you refused to take my calls!’

‘Your lawyer’s calls,’ she corrected him. ‘Because I didn’t want to do business, that’s why I didn’t take them.’

‘So?’

‘Yes, there is still a baby,’ she said slowly. ‘But don’t worry your head about it—it’s my baby and it won’t have anything to do with you.’

He could see her teeth beginning to chatter. ‘Get in the car,’ he said.

‘No.’

‘Please.’

The voice was deceptively soft and Eve felt so weak from the flurry of emotions he had provoked and simply from the impact of seeing him again that she could not have possibly refused. ‘Oh, damn you,’ she said indistinctly, but she did not walk away.