Brunetti's Secret Son

‘No, I don’t accept that. Not when it comes to my son.’

He shrugged. ‘Okay, you can use Emily when you see fit, or not at all. I’ll leave that decision up to you. But you can’t control every moment of his life, Maisie.’

Cold anger robbed her of breath for a moment. Then the words came tumbling out. ‘You’ve known him for what, two days? And you dare to say that to me?’

His eyes turned a burnished gold. ‘Is it my fault that I didn’t know of his existence before then?’

‘Well, it’s not mine! Had you bothered to stick around the morning after—’

‘For what purpose? Exchange false promises of hooking up again? Or perhaps you wanted compliments on what a great night we shared?’

An angry flush replaced the cold rage. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so vile! And pardon me if I didn’t know the right etiquette for the morning after one-night stands. That was my first and last experience. But I certainly didn’t think I’d wake up alone with no trace of the man I’d spent the night with. Or that you’d instruct the concierge not to divulge any information as to your identity. If you want to be angry at anyone, be angry at yourself, because despite that deplorable behaviour, despite you leaving me there to do the walk of shame on my own, I still went back to look for you when I found out I was pregnant.’

His face froze in a mask of surprise. ‘You did what?’

‘I went back. I used savings I would’ve been better off investing for my unborn child to pay for a two-week stay in that exorbitant hotel. I walked the streets of Palermo every day and visited every café I could find for a fortnight.’ She laughed. ‘I drank enough decaf lattes to float a cruise ship, all in the hope that I might find you. Do you know how many hits there are for Romeo of Palermo on the Internet?’

He shook his head slowly, as if in a daze.

‘Well, I won’t bore you with figures. Let’s just say tracking every one of them down would’ve taken me years. I didn’t speak the language, so either I was laughed off or every enquiry was met with a blank look. So, yes, I gave up after two weeks and decided my time would be better spent planning a safe and comfortable future for my son. So don’t you dare tell me I won’t be consulted about each and every decision where he’s concerned. And don’t you dare make me feel bad about the consequences of something that we both did consensually.’

A red flush scoured his cheekbones before he inhaled deeply. Whirling about, he strode to the window and gazed out at the spectacular view.

When she was convinced the silence would stretch for ever, she approached and stood next to him. ‘Are you going to say something?’ she ventured in a quieter voice once several more minutes had passed.

He slanted a glance at her. ‘It is not often I’m surprised. But you have surprised me, gattina,’ he rasped.

‘Because I’ve shown that underneath that auburn hair I have a temper?’ she half joked.

A flicker of a smile ghosted over his lips. ‘That wasn’t a surprise. I’m very much aware of the depths of your passion.’

She reddened and glanced away before she was tempted to read a different meaning to his words. ‘What, then?’

‘What you did...’ He paused and shook his head. ‘No other person I know would’ve done that. And you’re right. After the way I left, you had every right to write me off. And I did make sure that I would not be easy to find.’

‘That’s an understatement. Do you do that often? Erase your presence so thoroughly your conquests can never find you?’ she asked before she could stop herself.

‘Not in such direct terms. There is usually an understanding of the transient nature of my liaisons.’

‘Oh...right.’ That told her.

‘That night was different for me, too, in many ways.’

She wanted to ask, but that bleak, haunted look was back in his eyes again, along with that do-not-disturb force field that told her she would risk emotional electrocution if she so much as raised an eyebrow in inquiry. To her surprise, he continued.

‘It had been a trying day, one I didn’t wish to face even though I knew it was coming.’

‘Yeah, we all have days like that.’

He looked at her, his gaze brushing her face, her throat, her body, before turning his attention to the window again. ‘But you came back, despite feeling the sting of rejection and perhaps a lot aggrieved?’ he asked.