Charlotte took a deep breath. She had given the matter a great deal of thought. ‘I think I should be the one to tell Gina about you.’ She held up her hand to stave off an interruption that hadn’t been voiced. ‘And then you can meet her. Of course, you’ll want to get to know her…’
Charlotte had visions of Riccardo becoming a semi-permanent figure in her life, a man who didn’t want her but was tied to her because of an accident that had happened in the past. Would he resent her more and more as time went on? How would she feel when he got married, had children of his own? ‘And I’m not going to stand in your way. We can work out the nuts and bolts of where and when, but basically I’m willing to be generous with access. Also—’ she had nearly forgotten this point ‘—I don’t want any money from you. Eight years ago your mother accused me of being a gold-digger, even though I told her that I hadn’t known your financial background, and—’
‘When?’ Riccardo asked sharply.
‘When she showed me up to that room.’
‘I didn’t know.’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter now, but you need to understand that I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. Not a penny.’
His mother had done more damage than he had thought. What else had she said? She was frail now after a fall, but would still be too proud to admit to having made errors in the way she had handled the situation way back then. Another unwilling tug of sympathy.
He stood up and strolled across to the window, which had splendid views over London. For a few seconds he idly followed the progress of people scurrying across pavements as he marshalled his thoughts, then he turned around to look at her.
‘So I see my daughter, say, once a week? Twice a week? When I happen to be in London? Because I travel a hell of a lot. And how long do I see her for?—maybe an hour or two after school? Because she would have homework to do, I suppose.’
‘There are weekends,’ Charlotte pointed out, not liking the direction of his comments, or his tone of voice. ‘You could see her every other weekend…’
‘Except when she’s going out, I guess.’
‘Why are you making this difficult, Riccardo? It works for loads of other people.’
Riccardo shrugged and walked towards her. For a tall, muscular man his movements had always been graceful and economic, but she still felt to cringe back in the chair, especially when he leant over her and placed his hands on either side of her, palms gripping the arms of her chair.
Up close like this he literally did take her breath away. It was as if she had to create a force field to ward off his dynamism, and she could just about have succeeded, but the minute he closed the physical gap between them she had no protection against the stark power of his presence.
‘But not for me. It doesn’t work for me, Charlie.’
Charlotte didn’t have the strength to remind him that she no longer used that abbreviated nickname. She felt trapped by those amazing eyes with their idiotically long lashes. She used to tease him about that!
‘No?’ she managed to croak.
‘No. I don’t intend to be one of those part-time dads, trying to forge a bond for four hours a week. Nor do I intend to watch another man raise my own flesh and blood.’
It took a few seconds for Charlotte to realise that he was talking about Ben. She opened her mouth to protest, but he wasn’t about to let her interrupt. She had had her say. Now it was time for his.
‘Gina is my daughter, and she will take my name and have all the privileges that are her due!’