‘Maybe I have expenses you don’t know about.’ As soon as she said it she regretted it, her profile pinching tight with tension. ‘A quarter of a million,’ she muttered in a hurried aside, very tempted to laugh like a hyena as she imagined how different the last few years would have been had she had access to even a tithe of that amount of money.
‘What did you do with it?’ Cesare enquired grimly.
‘I never had it, for goodness’ sake,’ Mina retorted wearily, suddenly totally fed up with the thankless task of reiterating her innocence to someone determined not to listen to her.
‘You deposited fifty thousand in your current account—what did you do with the rest of it?’
Fifty thousand. Alarm bells went off like Klaxons inside her head. A month after Mina had been sacked she had been stunned to receive a bank statement which informed her that she was miraculously fifty thousand pounds richer than she had thought she was. She had immediately contacted the bank to tell them that there had been a mistake and that the money they had credited to her account could not be hers. Incredibly they hadn’t been interested and had indeed assured her that there had been no mistake.
For a couple of days she had actually wondered if Cesare had deposited the money as a pay-off to salve his own conscience for the brutal way he had treated her. But that explanation had struck her as unlikely. In all, it had taken her quite a few weeks to persuade the bank that they had to take that money back out of her account. Finally they had done so and a while after that, when she had asked, a bank clerk had gone off to enquire and returned to tell her that yes, there had been a mistake and the money had since been returned to its true owner.
‘How did you know what was in my account?’ Mina probed.
‘I have my methods. Now perhaps you’ll cease this painful refusal to admit the truth,’ Cesare suggested.
Mina burned with bitterness. It was too much of a coincidence. She had been smoothly set up as a fall guy. Cesare had been able to trace some of the money right back to her. Somebody had laid a careful trail for him, but who? And how could she ever find out and prove her own innocence? Surely the bank had a record of that transfer of the fifty thousand into another account? Well, she wasn’t about to waste her breath sharing her suspicions with Cesare, who would doubtless think that in fear of investigation she had transferred the money elsewhere in a belated attempt to cover her own tracks.
‘You’ve only been with that charity for two years,’ Cesare persisted. ‘Where were you for the other two years? Travelling? Partying?’
It had been no blasted party in that labour ward, Mina thought in sudden rage; nor had the second year been any more entertaining. Ignoring family protests, she had been determined to go it alone with Susie. She had worked in a series of lousy jobs, most often brought to an end by an inability to find a reliable child-minder whom she could afford to pay.
In fact she had practically starved before she’d accepted that she could either fall back on the social services, who would then have sought child support for Susie from Cesare, or go back to Roger and Winona with her tail between her legs. Of the two options, family had won out. Mina would sooner have slept on a park bench than have Cesare know that she had given birth to his child. A man who slept with you one night and sacked you the next was hardly keen father material. Cesare had made his indifference cruelly clear. He had treated her like the dirt beneath his feet and she would never, ever forget that experience.
‘Partying,’ Cesare decided, searching her flushed and defensive face.
Mina threw back her head, provoked beyond tolerance. ‘Why not?’
‘Who with?’ Cesare grated roughly.
Mina shrugged, moving a few feet to the small window, bitterly amused by his anger. Fool that she was, she hadn’t seen this weakness in Cesare last night. He still wanted her; he still found her attractive. Why was she so shattered by that revelation? Sexual chemistry did not automatically go hand in glove with respect and liking. Hadn’t she learnt that to her own cost last night? She hated him but he could still smash her defences just by touching her, just by coming too close, awakening her with the flaring gold of his beautiful eyes. Cesare was a very sexual personality. So why shouldn’t he be vulnerable too? It was poetic justice.
‘I asked you who with?’ he repeated curtly.
‘Far be it from me to ask what business that is of yours!’ Mina spun round and her eyes clashed with the glittering gold threat in his.
‘I want to know, and I also want to know where you go at weekends,’ he spelt out between clenched teeth.
‘Do I get to ask what you’ve been doing with your weekends for the past four years?’ Mina suddenly heard herself spit back at him, and she didn’t even know where that question had come from, didn’t recall thinking it. But all of a sudden she knew she hated Cesare even more than she had thought.
‘I asked you first. How many men have you been with?’
‘How many women have you been with?’ she launched back furiously.
Cesare snatched in an audible breath and strode forward. ‘The weekends. Who is he?’
Mina reflected on the considerable amount of time she spent with Roger’s grandfather, whom she had known since she was three years old. Baxter Keating was a lovely old man, who shared his large country house with Roger and Winona and was as careful as Mina was not to intrude any more than necessary on the couple’s privacy.
‘He’s a lot older than you,’ she murmured with vicious sweetness, wanting to shock, wanting to anger.
Cesare went rigid, satisfyingly so. ‘Married?’
‘Widowed.’
‘Is he likely to marry you?’ he bit out.
‘No,’ she said with perfect truth.
‘But you go down to his home at weekends…and you live with him,’ Cesare framed in a thunderous, raw undertone that sent tiny little tremors running up her taut spinal column. A confession that she spent her weekends at orgies could not have drawn a more appalled response.