CHAPTER THREE
L ARK WAS PRACTICALLY vibrating with rage, even as a part of her was appalled at how completely she’d lost her head. Calling him a horrible, selfish man was way out of line, especially when he was not only a stranger to her, but also a potential and very important client for Ravenswood Antiques.
Except not only had he brought up what had been a terrifying time in her life, that she’d thought she’d put behind her, he’d also gone after the one thing she’d do anything to protect: Maya. He’d threatened to take her daughter and she wasn’t going to stand for it.
When her father had threatened to take Lark away from her mother, Grace Edwards’s answer had been to run, and that had been fair since her father had been powerful and had money, while her mother had nothing. She’d taken Lark out of France, where she’d been born, and escaped to Australia, Grace’s home country, where she’d managed to keep Lark hidden away for years.
Lark didn’t know anything about Cesare Donati himself, but his family’s history made it clear that they were ruthless and let nothing stand in their way when it came to getting what they wanted. He would come after her, she was sure of it, and then she’d be forced into the same situation as her mother had been. Grace had done what she could for Lark, but being on the run continually hadn’t made for a great childhood, and God knew, Lark didn’t want that for Maya.
Signor Donati had folded his arms across his broad chest and was looking down at her from his great height, his blue eyes now as cool as the ice in his voice. He was so much taller and more powerful than she was, and not only physically. Yet he’d still let himself be backed halfway across the room by her. And yes, he’d definitely let her.
She didn’t know how to feel about that, whether to be pleased that she’d managed to unsettle him, or to be even more furious at being placated. But while she couldn’t deny that allowing herself to be angry with him had felt oddly freeing, she couldn’t permit herself any more. That really would be a mistake. She’d already called him a stupid, selfish, horrible man and that would disappoint Mr Ravenswood.
‘Well?’ Signor Donati demanded, impatience in his deep voice.
She tried to get a handle on her anger, forcing herself to put it aside and think objectively about the deal he’d offered.
He could be lying about being Maya’s father; that was the issue, though, why he’d lie about it she had no idea. Also, he wasn’t wrong. A paternity test would clear up that side of things. Certainly if Maya ended up not being his then Lark wouldn’t have to deal with him again.
And if she is his?
He’d promised they’d sit down like civilised adults and talk, so that was something. Still, she didn’t want to even think about that possibility yet, and she wasn’t going to allow any testing to happen until she had that promise in writing. She wouldn’t allow Mr Ravenswood to be penalised either.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I want you to promise that you’ll also sell your antiques to Ravenswood. If you take your business elsewhere, Mr Ravenswood would be very disappointed, and this situation has nothing to do with him. It’s between us.’
His gaze narrowed to sharp splinters of blue and he was silent a long moment. Then he said, ‘I will not be apologising for that kiss.’
A sparking, prickling electricity shivered over her skin as the memory of his lips on hers stole through her, making her face feel hot yet again, and a thread of anger escaped. ‘Like hell you won’t,’ she said flatly. ‘You took it without asking and I’ll be having that apology, in addition to all those other promises, in writing.’
A muscle in his jaw ticked. ‘You don’t trust my word?’
‘No. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you.’
He tilted his head, heat flickering in his eyes again. ‘You did that night. You trusted me enough to come to my bed.’
The prickle of electricity over Lark’s skin became more intense, a throbbing ache she’d never felt before gripping her. ‘Do you have to mention that?’ she asked tightly.
His hard mouth curved. ‘It seems relevant to the situation at hand.’
Don’t you wish you could remember, though? What it must have been like to sleep with him ?
No. No she didn’t wish it. She was glad, very glad, that she didn’t remember. In fact, she’d come to a place of peace with it, and she would have been quite happy for those memories never to return, except...
There was a rising heat inside her, and she couldn’t help but notice how his suit jacket seemed to highlight the impressive width of his shoulders, while his trousers did wonderful things to his lean waist and powerful thighs. He wore a plain white business shirt and a silk tie that echoed the deep blue of his eyes, and he...
Her mouth dried. He was just beautiful.
‘You were willing,’ he went on, his voice softer, deeper. ‘Very willing, in fact. Which also seems relevant.’
Unexpectedly, something tight and hard inside her that she’d thought she’d put behind her after Maya had been born, relaxed. The sessions she’d had with the psychologist had helped with her fears around that night, but there had always been a little splinter of uncertainty she’d never been able to get rid of.
You weren’t raped or forced. That’s something.
Perhaps. If she believed him.
‘I only have your word for that,’ she said, not wanting to admit anything to him just yet.
His imperious dark brows rose. ‘You really think I’d take an unwilling woman to bed?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Would you?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he replied, with no hesitation at all. ‘Why would I? When I have an embarrassment of willing women to choose from?’
You’re not making things better.
Lark took a deep, silent breath. No, she wasn’t. And throwing around accusations of sexual assault wouldn’t help the situation.
Yet even though her shock was wearing off a little, that kernel of ice was still sitting in the pit of her stomach. Him telling her that she’d spent the night with him hadn’t jogged anything loose. Not even that kiss had. She also found it difficult to believe that he’d wanted her. Because why? She was a nobody, and while she might be inoffensive to look at, she certainly wasn’t in supermodel territory. She didn’t have much idea about what kind of women men like him went for, but she was pretty certain it wasn’t women like her.
‘Why me, then?’ she asked, since as he’d said, that ‘seemed relevant’.
The look in his eyes gleamed. ‘Why do you want to know? Do you want to remember?’
She felt herself flushing yet again. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to remember. She’d put her fears and doubts about that night into a box and shoved them into a corner of her mind, never to be opened again.
Yet now Signor Donati, damn him, had opened that box and all those fears and doubts were spilling out again. What if that night had been terrible, for example? What if the conception of her beautiful daughter had been hurried, awkward and unpleasant? What if the man she’d slept with had been a liar? What if he’d been drunk? What if he’d been married? What if he’d slipped something into her drink and she had no injuries because she’d been unconscious?
What if he is telling the truth? What if you did sleep with him? And what if that night was good?
Yet even admitting that possibility felt dangerous, since she didn’t understand how she’d ever have agreed to go to dinner with him, let alone go back to his villa, no matter how helpful or attractive she’d found him. She simply didn’t trust men enough for that, and especially not a powerful man like this one.
So no, she didn’t know why she was asking him about that night. She wasn’t curious and she didn’t need to know, because there was going to be no interaction between them after this.
That paternity test would prove that he wasn’t Maya’s father.
Why are you so sure about that?
Because she wouldn’t accept any other outcome.
‘No,’ she said shortly. ‘I don’t want to know. Forget I ever said anything.’
His blue gaze never left hers and he studied her for another long moment. Then he said unexpectedly, ‘I did not hurt you. And you should know that you wanted me every bit as badly as I wanted you.’
Lark’s heartbeat thumped. She couldn’t imagine wanting any man badly, let alone this one, not when he was everything she should hate. How had it happened? How had she managed to get herself seduced—
No, she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to fall into an endless doubt spiral about what had happened that night, where there were too many questions and not enough answers.
Cesare Donati might have the answers you’re looking for.
He might. But he could also be lying and as she’d already told him, she didn’t trust him. Not an inch. All those stories about him that she’d read on the plane had mentioned his many lovers, and while he was supposedly childless, for all she knew he not only had a woman in every port, but a couple of unacknowledged bastards too. He was also reputed to treat his lovers well—who really knew? He could be abusive and paying people to stay quiet.
‘Sorry,’ she said, steeling herself. ‘But I don’t believe you. And as to the rest of your promises, like I said, I’m going to need them and that apology, in writing.’
He eyed her. ‘I would not lie to you. Not about that night.’
‘I don’t care. If I don’t have your signature on a piece of paper agreeing to all those things you just said, then you’re not going to see Maya.’
His expression tightened a moment, then it smoothed and he shrugged as if none of this was of any moment. ‘Very well. I will have my legal team draw up something for you.’
Lark, expecting him to keep arguing, gave him a suspicious look. Had she missed something? Was there a catch somewhere perhaps?
You catch more flies with honey, don’t forget.
Oh, she couldn’t forget. She had to stay calm, stay polite. Bury her outrage. However, she wasn’t going to let him get away with dictating everything. He might have all the money and all the power, but she was Maya’s mother. And if he wanted access, then he’d have to go through Lark to get it.
‘Thank you.’ She kept her voice cool.
‘So, how long are you here?’
‘Just tonight. I’ll be flying back to London tomorrow. I want to get back to Maya as soon as I can.’
‘Of course, you do,’ he said. ‘Would you prefer to leave tonight?’
Her gaze narrowed. Why was he being so agreeable now? ‘I would, yes,’ she said. ‘But there were no flights available tonight and I wasn’t sure how long it would take being here.’
‘It will take no time at all,’ he said smoothly. ‘What time would you like to fly home?’
She stared at him, taken aback. ‘All the flights were full. At least they were when I last checked.’
‘They are not full.’ There was nothing but supreme confidence in his voice. ‘My jet can accommodate you.’
Lark blinked. ‘Your what?’
‘My private jet. It can leave whenever we’re ready.’
‘Wait.’ Her gut tightened. ‘What do you mean ‘we’?’
His eyes gleamed, hot and blue. ‘I mean, I’ll be coming with you.’
‘No,’ Lark said, anger once more leaping in her eyes. ‘You absolutely will not.’
He’d been expecting her to say that, but unfortunately, he wasn’t going to give her any choice. He’d be coming to London with or without her, because now that she’d agreed to his deal—and he was glad she had—he’d decided that he wanted to see his daughter ASAP.
‘Fine,’ he said easily. ‘Then I’ll take my jet and you can fly commercial. I hope you can find a flight tonight, but if not, we can meet tomorrow in London.’
Her chin jutted, her expression tightening with frustration. ‘Why do you want to come to London at all?’
He shouldn’t feel pleased that he was getting to her or satisfied, because really, who was she to him? A one-night stand two years ago, that was all. Yet, he couldn’t deny that he was relishing the anger in her lovely eyes and the stain of pink in her pretty skin. And the primitive male part of him wanted to keep pushing her, find out exactly how much she remembered of the night they’d spent together. Because he was sure that even if the injury had wiped her memory, her body hadn’t forgotten him.
Her mouth had been soft under his when he’d kissed her, her hands on his chest exerting no pressure. She hadn’t avoided his kiss and the pulse at the base of her throat had been beating hard and fast. Her pupils had been dilated as he’d raised his head, and he was sure the flush in her cheeks hadn’t been anger then.
Until she’d pushed him away, of course, which she’d had every right to do.
Still, her body remembered and he was tempted, so tempted, to test that. Then again, she’d had to push him away because he’d forgotten himself and if one kiss had the power to do that to him, then testing her might very well test him, and he couldn’t afford that. Not again. That night had been a one-off and he hadn’t changed his mind.
In fact, perhaps it was even a blessing that she didn’t remember. That way he didn’t need to fight his own urge to revisit it as well as hers, since obviously if she had remembered, she’d want another night. They all did.
So there would be no more kisses, and whatever chemistry was between them, he’d let it lie. He didn’t need to revisit that particular memory and he wasn’t going to.
‘Obviously I need to speak with Mr Ravenswood personally,’ he said. ‘And the sooner the better. I would also like to visit my daughter.’
Lark looked as if she wanted to shout at him again, and it was probably wrong of him to hope that she might. She was like an angry kitten, all small and soft, turning her sharp claws on him, and part of him wanted to see what else she might do if he got her really wound up.
She hadn’t been like that the night they’d had in Rome. She’d talked to him openly about her life and how much she’d loved her mother. There had been something about a custody battle with her French father, and how her mother had taken her away to bring her up in Australia. How they’d had to move around a lot in case anyone found them.
He’d been intrigued by the story and had empathised with her, making oblique references to his own struggles with his parents, though he hadn’t told her the whole truth.
About how his mother had ultimately tried to kill him and then his father had shot her and then himself. That had been too dark a story and he hadn’t wanted to go into it.
Lark had been so sympathetic and concerned at what he had told her. They’d been sitting in the library of his villa and she’d been leaning forward, listening. Then once he’d told her all about it, she’d put one small hand over his and that had been all it had taken for their steadily building chemistry to ignite.
Her touch had burned and when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d seen all that sea-green catch alight too, and when he’d pulled her into his arms, she hadn’t resisted. Her mouth had been soft and hot, opening beneath his as if they were lovers already, and her arms had twined around his neck. She’d clung to him as if she hadn’t been able to bear letting him go.
But he couldn’t think about that night. It was over and done with.
‘You can’t see Maya,’ Lark snapped. ‘I forbid it.’
‘Very well,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Then I’ll wait until after the paternity test results come through.’
‘You’ll be waiting a while, so you won’t need to come to London now, will you?’
‘On the contrary. I can get test results the same day, and of course I’ll need to meet with Ravenswood.’
She was breathing very fast, anger glittering in her eyes.
You are being unfair. She’s Maya’s mother and she’s likely to be in shock. Why are you letting your wounded pride get to you?
The thought sent a sharp jolt through him. His pride wasn’t wounded, of course it wasn’t. And one woman not remembering their one-night stand didn’t affect him in the slightest. His child was important and worth fighting for, that was all. It was true that if she’d indeed had an accident, then it wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t let him know about Maya’s existence. It was also fair to say that since he was a complete stranger to her, him threatening to take her daughter must be frightening. Especially considering what she’d told him about her own father and how he’d pursued her and her mother.
It was clear she thought Cesare would do the same and doing nothing to dispel her doubts wasn’t helping either of them.
Cesare had always been sure of himself and of what he wanted, and anger had propelled him to take charge of Donati Bank and institute all the changes his father had always refused to make, hauling a centuries-old bank into the twenty-first century.
He’d got rid of the accounts of tax evaders and money launderers, of arms dealers and drug barons, of dictators and terrorists. He made transparent secretive bank practices and opened special accounts for charities with excellent interest rates, zero fees and competitive financial management services.
Burning the old rules of his ancestors made Donati Bank better .
But anger wasn’t his fuel any longer. Like love, it was a toxic emotion and one he’d put away. He still didn’t much care for the emotions of others, though, and yet he was contemplating Lark’s feelings now and it concerned him that he felt almost...guilty for threatening her. She was only defending her child and in her place he would have done the same. In fact, he’d probably have done worse.
‘I just want to see her, little bird,’ he said, softening his tone slightly. ‘I’m not going to take her away from you.’
Lark’s expression remained suspicious and angry. ‘Why do you call me that?’
Something inside him jolted. He hadn’t realised he’d even said it and now he had the impression that he’d said it more than once. ‘I called you that in our night together,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘You liked it.’
‘Well, I don’t now.’ She eyed him. ‘Nothing I say to you will make you change your mind will it?’
He was adaptable, it was true, but once a course of action had been decided on, he never changed it. Especially if he felt strongly about that course of action, and he did now.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It will not.’ He held her gaze, let her see the truth. Let her see the ruthlessness that made him a Donati of old through and through. He’d been brought up to be as terrible as his ancestors and he was. He made no apology for that.
But he would be the last of them.
Maya would be the first of a better, brighter generation. A kinder generation.
He’d make sure of it.
Lark took a breath and glanced away. Her hands uncurled from their fists, fingers stretching out a couple of times as if she was trying to relax them.
‘Fine,’ she said after a moment, looking back at him. ‘But she’ll be asleep when we get home and I’m not waking her up just so you can see her. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.’
‘I can live with that,’ he said.
It would do him no harm to wait, and there was no point antagonising her more than he had already. She was Maya’s mother after all, and while his own had been a ridiculous excuse for one, it was obvious that Lark was a different kettle of fish. She was fierce and protective, which his own mother, too involved in her own petty jealousies and intrigues over his father, had never been. He approved. In fact, he’d already decided that she would have to be a part of Maya’s life.
Is that really your decision to make?
Well, no, it was hers too. But he’d meant what he said when he’d told her that he wouldn’t take Maya away from her—a child needed a loving mother and it was obvious that Lark was indeed loving.
However, he wouldn’t allow himself to be cut out of her life either. She was a Donati, heir to a vast fortune and the poisonous legacy that came with it, and she would need him to guide her around the pitfalls and traps that being a Donati entailed.
She would need him to set her on the right path, to ensure that the poison that infiltrated his entire family tree stopped with him. That she would never carry the same stain.
Lark was still looking deeply unhappy at the thought of him coming to London. Too bad. She would have to get used to the idea of him being in her life now, the two of them tied to a little girl neither of them had expected.
‘I just don’t understand why you want this,’ Lark said unexpectedly. ‘You never even knew of her existence until ten minutes ago and now suddenly you want to run a paternity test and come to London to see her. Threaten to take her away from me. Why? She’s nothing to you.’
‘She is not nothing to me,’ he said. ‘And we shared more than our bodies that night, Lark. You won’t remember, but I did tell you that I never wanted children. Never wanted a family, not with a history as toxic as the Donatis’ history is. But then I saw the photo of her on your phone and I knew she was mine.’
‘What? Just like that?’
He saw no reason to deny it. ‘Yes, just like that. Call it an instinct. But whatever it was, I know she’s my daughter, which makes her my responsibility. And I’m not a man who walks away from his responsibilities.’
‘You can walk away from this one, believe me. I won’t mind if you do. In fact, I’d even prefer that you do.’
‘No.’ He put every ounce of authority into the word. ‘I will not leave any child of mine without a father, especially not a Donati child. She’ll be my heir and inherit a wealth and a legacy that are beyond your wildest dreams, little bird. And she’ll need me to guide her in how to manage both.’
Lark’s lovely mouth tightened. ‘Do you know how unbelievably arrogant that sounds?’
He shrugged. He didn’t much care how arrogant or otherwise people thought he was. Arrogance was part and parcel of the Donati way, and he was all that and more. Arrogant, and selfish, just as his parents had been. But what made him different was that he owned it. They never had.
‘I don’t care how it sounds,’ Cesare said. ‘As long as you know that I will be part of Maya’s life whether you want me to be or not.’
‘Only if you’re really her father. I could have slept with other men that night, you don’t know.’
He allowed himself a smile at that. ‘You were in my bed all night, Lark. And we didn’t sleep. So unless you have the ability to be in two places at once, I’m pretty sure that the only man you were with that night was me.’
‘I could have had a boyfriend.’
‘But you didn’t. You told me so.’
‘I might have lied.’
But he was tired of this conversation. Now that he’d made the decision to fly to London, he was impatient to be there. Impatient to see Maya. And he had to get his lawyers to draw up an agreement, then let his staff know he’d be taking the jet.
‘You didn’t lie.’ He walked over to the table and placed her phone down on it, then took his own out of his pocket and glanced down at the screen. ‘You were a virgin.’
‘What?’
He glanced up at her shocked gaze. ‘You told me you were a virgin and indeed you were. Now, are you coming with me to London or are you going back to your hotel?’