‘It isn’t,’ he assured her.
With the streetlamp behind him and his face wreathed in shadows, Marco looked more intimidating than he ever had. ‘How did you know I was home?’
‘Inside information.’
‘Your people?’ She tightened her jaw.
‘Your midwife. I finally managed to convince her that I have your best interests at heart.’
‘And how did you do that?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘I talked to her. Something I should maybe have tried with you.’
This admission made her soften a little. ‘I don’t want any trouble, Marco.’ She was still standing in his way. ‘My baby’s sleeping—’
‘I’m not here to give you trouble, Cassandra. What happened in the hospital—’
‘Was unforgivable,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he agreed grimly. ‘It was.’
‘So, why are you here now?’
‘To explain. I don’t want to disturb you, but...’
He looked so hopeful, though she was still wary. Marco was the biological father of her child, but his appalling behaviour in the hospital had shocked her out of thinking he might change. It took a large wedge of snow, falling from the roof and landing on his shoulders, to jolt her into action. When he laughed and exclaimed, ‘Divine retribution!’ she laughed too.
‘You’d better come in,’ she said. ‘But let’s get rid of this first.’ Standing on tiptoe, she swiped the snow from one shoulder as Marco swept it from the other.
‘Ever the practical girl, Cassandra,’ he said dryly, turning his dark, compelling stare on her face. The stare she had missed...the stare she had so longed to see again.
She stood back to let him into the house. ‘I’m a woman, not a girl, Marco—as I have been since the day we met.’
Cool words that she could congratulate herself for finding, but she shouldn’t have touched him, because even that lightest and most innocent of touches had made her long to be in his arms again—to have him kiss her, warm her. At the end of the day it didn’t matter what he did or he said, she loved him with all her heart, and she always would.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked as soon as Marco had closed the door on the cold.
Why was he here? Because he couldn’t stay away from her.
‘Marco?’ Cassandra prompted him. ‘Let me take your jacket. Go and make yourself warm by the fire...’
His fist tightened around the envelope he was carrying, the envelope he hadn’t shown her yet. It was still unopened. It contained the results of the DNA test.
‘Where’s the baby?’ he asked, glancing around. He was consumed by a ravening hunger to see the child he had so callously discarded in the hospital.
‘He’s upstairs, sleeping. You can...’
Was she going to invite him to see the baby? He would never know. Her voice had tailed off, as if she had thought better of that suggestion after his despicable behaviour in the labour ward. ‘And you, Cassandra? How are you?’ She looked ‘fine’, as Cassandra would say, but was she? And shouldn’t she be resting?
‘Me?’ she queried with surprise. ‘I’m very well, thank you.’ Her face relaxed. ‘It’s early days, you know.’
He frowned. ‘Don’t you have anyone to help you?’
‘Do I need anyone? I have friends who have promised to pop round, but I’m still getting used to being a mother and I’m happy with my own company for now.’
‘Shouldn’t you be resting in bed?’
‘I’m not sure how much resting Luca is going to allow me. I will rest when I can.’
‘Luca?’ he queried.
‘That’s what I’ve named my son.’
A steely glint had returned to her eyes, as if she dared him to disagree, either with the name she had chosen or the fact that she had just put her stake in the ground, making it clear that she was a single parent and quite happy to go it alone without him.
‘What’s that?’ she demanded as he stared down at the envelope in his hand.
‘I think you know,’ he said quietly.
‘The test.’ She met his gaze steadily, but her eyes had turned cold. ‘You had a DNA test carried out on my son without my permission? Of course,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘Anything is possible for Marco di Fivizzano. But that doesn’t make it right, Marco. When did you get this done? Did you have someone sneak into the maternity ward to take a sample from my baby?’