‘It really is quite something,’ Rob remarked when he saw the plan she had completed for the villa in Italy.

Zara smiled as she rolled it up and slotted it into a protective cardboard tube. ‘Well, we’ll see.’

‘When will the client get it?’

‘This week. He’s staying in London.’

‘Convenient,’ Rob commented, already engaged in closing up for the night.

Only as she drove back to her new apartment and struggled to find a parking spot was Zara at long last free to think of the tiny seed of life growing inside her. A baby, her baby. She could still hardly believe it was true and could not suppress a sense of wonderment over the conception that embarrassed her. After all, she could hardly celebrate falling pregnant by a man with whom she no longer had a relationship. That was very bad news for her child. Or was it? Thinking about her own father, Zara was not sure that she had ever enjoyed a single advantage from his presence in her life and he was a fearsome man in a temper. On the other hand she had friends who adored their fathers and found them very supportive and good at giving advice, she conceded fairly.

Her unplanned pregnancy would also give her parents yet another reason to criticise her, although they would have fewer grounds than most to complain, because Zara and her brother had been eight years old before their parents even moved in together. Certainly her father had been in no hurry to commit to the mother of his twins. Indeed even at that point Monty Blake must already have been involved with her sister Tawny’s mother.

But Zara was not like either of her parents and she told herself that there was no reason why she shouldn’t make a good single mother. As she had no trust fund to fall back on she was lucky to have Edith’s business to help her survive on the financial front. She was strong and sensible. In a crisis she would bend, not break, and she was willing to make the best of things. So, she had been more than a little foolish over Vitale? She just had to learn to live with that as he was no doubt learning to live with Fluffy. The serious expression on Zara’s face slid away and she almost smiled at that incongruous image. Now that offer of his to look after her pet had come as an enormous surprise. But then Vitale was deep, so deep and complex that she couldn’t fathom him and she quite understood how she had been taken in by him. Vitale did not wear his true and tricky nature on the surface.

As she was wondering what to make for her evening meal her cell phone beeped with a text.

Join me for dinner? I’ll cook. V

No, absolutely not, Zara thought in dismay and annoyance. What was he playing at? And then a more responsible inner voice reminded her that she was set to have a relationship with Vitale through her child that would stretch quite a few years into her future. Ignoring him, refusing to see him or speak to him might be tempting, but it would not be the sensible path to follow. Sadly, on one issue Vitale was correct. Her pregnancy did mean that everything had changed, although her feelings towards him hadn’t changed in the slightest: she still hated him like poison. Bolstered by that conviction, Zara texted back her agreement. After all, meeting up with Vitale would also provide her with an easy way of delivering the plan for the grounds of the Italian villa.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FLUFFY was watching television on the leather sofa when Vitale returned to his apartment that evening. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes: the wretched bunny was watching music videos while basking in the comfort of a well-upholstered seat! But no sooner did Zara’s pet hear the noise of the front door closing than it raced like a furry streak for the safety of its home in the corner. And there, in spite of the food Vitale brought it, the rabbit stayed firmly out of sight.

But Fluffy had not spent an entirely lazy day, Vitale noted grimly, because the rug had been chewed and the wooden foot of a coffee table had been gnawed. It was a destructive bunny rabbit, utterly unsuited to civilised life in a luxury apartment. On the other hand, Zara had agreed to come to dinner, most probably because she wanted to see how her pet was doing.

The plan for the villa tucked below one arm, Zara arrived sporting an ice-blue dress teamed with incredibly high heels. The pale shade accentuated her eyes and her hair shimmered round her shoulders. For the first time ever Vitale admired a woman’s legs and then, quite unnervingly for him, thought of her safety instead. What if she stumbled and fell and got hurt?

‘Those shoes are like stilts,’ he remarked before he could think better of the comment, only to watch in amazement as Fluffy bounded out into the hall to greet her mistress and gambol round her feet in a welcoming display.

Zara petted Fluffy and talked to her. Anything was better than focusing on Vitale, breathtakingly handsome even casually clad in jeans and an open-necked black shirt. She decided that she was horrendously overdressed and felt as though she had lost face in some secret contest of who could act the most laid-back. Her heart was doing that bang-bang-bang thing again but that was just the natural effect of Vitale’s manifold attractions hitting her defences with all the subtlety of a ten-ton truck.

He served the meal immediately in the spacious dining annexe off the lounge. He had made steak and salad, nothing fancy, but she was impressed all the same, her one and only attempt to cook steak having resulted in a lump of tough and rubbery meat that nobody could eat. The silence stretching between them seemed to shout in her ears, reminding her with a painful pang of regret how easily they had once talked in Italy. That, of course, she recalled, had only been part and parcel of his deception.

‘How do you feel?’ Vitale asked her levelly.

‘Like I’m stuck inside a soap bubble. The baby doesn’t really feel real yet, probably because it’s such an unexpected development,’ she admitted.

‘I intend to give you all the support that I can.’

At that austere unemotional promise, a tight little smile formed on Zara’s lips. ‘Then give me space.’

Space was the very last thing Vitale could imagi

ne offering her at that moment. In one of those infuriating shifts of awareness that infiltrated his formidable calm a surge of heat consumed him as he focused on her luscious mouth and recalled what she could do with it. Subjected to an instant erection, Vitale breathed in deep and slow, furiously willing his undisciplined body back under control and deeply resentful of the effect she could have on him. ‘I don’t think I can do that. I feel responsible for you now.’

Her eyes were cool and flat as glass. ‘But that’s not how I feel and not what I want.’

‘Don’t make our child pay the price for what I did in Italy,’ he urged her forcefully, already concerned about a future in which he might not be in a position to ensure that his child received the very best of care.

‘Maybe I’m thinking that after what you did to me you might be a bad influence to have in a child’s life,’ Zara told him honestly.

In receipt of that admission, his strong bone structure showed prominently below his bronzed skin and his jaw line clenched hard. In one sense he was outraged that Monty Blake’s daughter could question his integrity when her father had none whatsoever. But he could hardly expect her to appreciate that when he had deceived her in Tuscany. He should be grateful, however, that she refused to see him as her only support in a hostile world just because she had fallen pregnant by him. After all, just how much was he prepared to sacrifice to ensure his child’s welfare?

‘I’m trying to forge a new and different relationship with you,’ he delivered tautly.

She gazed into his stunning dark eyes and it was as if a thousand butterflies fluttered free in the pit of her stomach. Instantly she closed him out again, refusing to be entrapped by his raw physical appeal. ‘I can’t give you a fresh start with me. I don’t forgive men who try to use me.’

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