The Sicilian's Mistress

Connor sobbed when she drove off, which really bothered her. Had he already taken that much of a liking to Gianni? Half a mile down the road, she stopped at a callbox to ring home and yet again excuse herself from a family meal. The phone rang a long time before it was answered by her father.

After she’d explained why she wouldn’t be home, her father said in a curiously quiet voice. ‘That’s fine. Actually, we’re dining out ourselves, and we’ll probably be late back, so don’t wait up for us. By the way, Edward’s home.’

‘He is?’ Faith exclaimed in surprise.

‘He caught an earlier flight and called in at the plant just as I was leaving,’ Robin Jennings told her.

Faith drove to the restaurant. Connor ate with gusto. Faith nibbled at the odd chip and surveyed her son with her anguished heart in her eyes. Gianni had rights she couldn’t deny. Gianni had had a tough deal. At lot of men who fathered children outside marriage sought to evade their responsibilities, but her son had a father who had spent three years trying to track him down. A father who showed every sign of wanting to be very much a part of Connor’s life. But a father whose very existence was likely to cause Connor’s mother endless hassle and grief.

Edward was home, so she knew where she was heading next. More than anybody else, her fiancé deserved to hear her news first. Edward was always calm, she reminded herself. He certainly wouldn’t be happy, but surely he would ultimately take this unexpected development in his stride?

Beginning to feel like a traveller who had no place to lay her head, Faith wearily parked outside the Edwardian villa where Edward still lived with his mother. She thanked heaven that it was one of Mrs Benson’s bridge nights. Connor was half asleep, and she carried him up the steps feeling like the worst of mothers for keeping him out beyond his bedtime.

Edward opened the front door and studied her in surprise. ‘Faith?’

Faith chewed at her lower lip. ‘Dad told me you’d got back early and I needed to see you…so here I am.’

‘But why didn’t you leave Connor at home?’ Edward enquired.

‘Mum and Dad are dining out.’

‘Are you sure of that? Your father’s with your mother? When I walked into Robin’s office this afternoon, he was cancelling the business dinner he had arranged for tonight.’ Her fiancé continued with pronounced disapproval, ‘And, believe me, Bill Smith is too valuable a customer to cancel at such short notice!’

Engaged in settling Connor’s limp little body into a corner of the sofa in the chilly lounge, Faith made no response. She was too worked up about what she had to tell Edward.

‘Something rather unexpected has happened,’ she said stiltedly.

‘Everybody does seem to be acting in a very unexpected way today. Your father’s evasive manner with me was distinctly odd,’ Edward informed her flatly, his pale blue eyes reflecting his annoyance at what he had clearly taken as a snub.

‘Look, this is really important, Edward,’ Faith stressed.

Edward planted himself by the fireplace, a rather irritating air of indulgence in his scrutiny. ‘What’s up? Wedding stationery not up to scratch?’

‘Something I never, ever thought was likely to happen. Connor’s father, Gianni D’Angelo, has turned up!’ Faith shared in a driven rush.

Edward stiffened. She certainly had his attention now. He began shooting questions at her as if she was in the witness box, charged with some kind of crime.

‘Gianni D’Angelo…’ Edward repeated incredulously. ‘Let me g

et this straight. You are telling me that the electronics tycoon Gianni D’Angelo is Connor’s father?’

‘Yes, I was pretty shocked too,’ Faith admitted heavily.

‘Stop talking as if when all this took place it happened to somebody else!’ Edward suddenly snapped accusingly. ‘Believe me, I’m not too happy with the sound of all this. It’s hardly what I expected, is it? Gianni D’Angelo! How on earth did you meet a man like that?’

‘I don’t remember, Edward—’

‘Did you work for him?’

‘No…’ Faith began pleating a fold in her shirt with tense fingers.

‘I’m starting to suspect your loss of memory might be based on a very sound instinct to bury a less than presentable past,’ Edward told her in a derisive undertone.

‘That’s a horrible thing to say. It’s not like it’s something I can help,’ Faith whispered painfully.

‘Gianni D’Angelo…so once you moved in distinctly rarefied circles,’ Edward remarked snidely, and she winced. ‘What sort of relationship did you have with him?’

Stress made Faith’s stomach twist. Edward’s anger was already greater than she had naively anticipated, and his contempt was an equally unpleasant surprise. I can’t tell him the whole truth now. I can’t, she thought in desperation.