Chapter Seven #3
Rocco stepped up to her. Not breaching any rules of interpersonal distance, but it was enough, the way he stood there all glorious and …
smouldering. Reminding her of the first night she’d seen him sweeping down a laneway like some kind of avenging dark angel.
He was too magnificent for his own good, even though she now knew he was an unmitigated jerk.
But worst of all was how he made her feel.
She loathed how her body thrummed around him, somehow waking to life in his presence.
Wanting to be held. Cherished like she’d kidded herself to believe she’d been in Venice.
‘What if being here is what’s best for the baby?’ he asked. ‘You want that, don’t you, Lily?’
Her chest tightened. Of course she wanted that. What mother didn’t?
‘Are you accusing me of not doing what’s best for my child?’
His nostrils flared. ‘I think you’re forgetting that to care for a baby, you need to ensure you’re cared for too.’
His words shot into her like an arrow, straight and true.
From the moment she’d broken up with Richard, walked away from everything she knew, found out she was pregnant, what she’d wanted was a soft place to land.
To catch her breath. To take a moment’s respite from the relentlessness of her life.
From a practical perspective, it didn’t appear this pregnancy was going to be easy.
Whilst people said the first trimester was the worst and that things got better after that, what if they didn’t? Who could she rely on?
‘Are you believing me now?’ she asked, because it was important for her to know where she stood. ‘I’m not so naive as to not understand why you want proof, but I won’t be made to feel …’
Unwanted, inadequate, less.
His lips thinned a fraction. ‘The paternity test will be back soon.’
‘That’s meaningless to me. I’m not the one who’s uncertain. I know who the father is. You.’
‘Then you can have no objection to staying in my house, at least until we have the official answer. In the meantime, you say I’m the father, so it’s my obligation to look after you and therefore, our baby.’
Our baby. Finally, an acknowledgement of sorts. With those words it was as if all the fight had been taken from her. The adrenaline coursing through her petered out, leaving her hollowed and empty. It was time to make a choice. This didn’t have to be forever. It could just be until she regrouped.
‘I’ll let my boss know where I am, and the British Embassy.’
Something in his dark brown eyes flared, like triumph.
She didn’t care. If she could stay for a little while, then she could take the time to recover.
Pick herself up. Move on. In the meantime, she just had to learn how to deal with Rocco Silvestri.
Because he was a man who had the world at his feet, and she feared those feet would trample right over her.
It had been two days since Lily had capitulated and decided to stay with him. Rocco knew nothing of pregnant women. All he’d heard was that they glowed, but Lily didn’t seem to be glowing. Her light was dim, and she seemed to be suffering. Keeping to her room most of the time. Resting, he supposed.
Carmella gave him regular reports, saying the tiredness and morning sickness were normal and with her own pregnancies she’d been much the same. Otherwise, Lily ate a little and slept a lot. She now kept a bowl of lemons in her room, which she found helpful for the morning sickness.
Having her in the house shouldn’t have bothered him at all. Yet each time he walked past the bedroom he’d asked Carmella to prepare for her, his skin had prickled in blistering awareness of her presence.
Rocco checked the time. Breakfast would be served soon, and he wouldn’t disrespect his impeccable housekeeper by being late.
Although he still had a little time. His interest had been piqued by an email from the investigator he’d hired to look into Lily.
He hadn’t hoped for much given all he’d had was her name and country of origin given her accent and what she’d told the doctor.
To his surprise, an email had arrived quickly. He opened the report and began to read.
There he found more than he’d expected, all collected within the bounds of privacy laws.
Lily Rutherford was twenty-three and worked at a well-respected art dealer’s in an administrative role.
She did have family, unlike she claimed.
There was a father who was a member of the peerage, a mother and brother. A wealthy family from all accounts.
His jaw clenched, acid rising in his gut. So she had money. Perhaps this wasn’t a grift, but why did she say she had none when there was a family here on paper? Lily Rutherford was no orphan. He kept reading and it was as if ice filled his veins.
She’d been engaged. A lavish party, photographs. The bile rose even higher. Had she cheated on her fiancé with him? Thoughts of Carla clawed at his consciousness. The memories of her laughing at him like he was a silly boy. Did Lily laugh at her fiancé too?
Then a few sentences down he saw it. A small report that the engagement had broken off prior to Venice.
Rocco’s shoulders dropped. He couldn’t really say why he was relieved other than it removed a complication he didn’t need.
There was nothing much else in the report of any importance, so he closed out of it.
His phone on his desk buzzed. He snatched it up. Even though it was early, it was conceivable it was the doctor. He’d paid a premium to try and get the DNA fast-tracked. But instead of the doctor, it was his father.
He refused to open the message. Rocco pinched the bridge of his nose for a few moments to settle his anger at the farce his life had become.
Crisis upon crisis. Full of unwelcome surprises.
He pushed out from his desk and stalked downstairs, out to the back terraced patio area overlooking the gardens.
Lily sat at the table. He was caught by the surprise of seeing her.
A jolt striking through him like an electric shock, until a strange and misplaced sense of calm and satisfaction overtook him.
She appeared beautifully lit from the sun behind her.
Warm auburn hair shining. She looked up, those eyes of hers the colour of the sky.
Except when Lily noticed him her gaze seemed to dim for a moment, like clouds over the sun.
She gave him a smile which wobbled at the edges, something brittle and closed off.
Not warm and open as he’d remembered of her from the passionate night they’d shared, when he’d kidded himself to believe they’d shown all of themselves.
He understood duplicity too well. And here it appeared to be once more, sitting across the table from him.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said, her voice soft and light as a breeze through the trees in his garden. ‘Your housekeeper’s been inviting me for breakfast, but I didn’t really feel up to it till today. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
She seemed so tentative, and yet it might be an act. He couldn’t give her the benefit of the doubt, not yet.
‘No, not at all,’ he said, pulling his chair back and taking a seat.
Carmella came out with a smile, fussing around them.
She seemed to enjoy having an extra person in the house.
Bringing him an espresso, delivering Lily a honey-coloured looking drink.
Tea, he guessed. The waft of peppermint caught on the morning breeze.
In his reading up on morning sickness, because he’d known little and decided to become a fast study after losing a pair of shoes to it, he understood that peppermint could help.
She was still feeling unwell? Lily sipped at her drink and shut her eyes as she did.
‘You seem to be looking better,’ he said.
‘I’m feeling better. A little more energy, a lot less like I’ve been attacked by a flock of vampires.’
‘I’ve never heard of a group of vampires being called a flock,’ he said.
Lily waved her hand imperiously. If he were asked now, he could see she came from a titled family with her elegant English accent and the way she appeared, as if she were a queen speaking to a subject.
She’d need to know she would never rule him.
‘They fly,’ she said. ‘Flock will do. I don’t think I have the mental capacity to deal with collective nouns at the moment. I have pregnancy brain. Things still feel a bit fuzzy.’
Rocco would need to look up what pregnancy brain meant.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ she said and he couldn’t say why he enjoyed that she liked the place.
When the estate agent took him through, Rocco had begun negotiations to purchase it immediately.
Still, he shouldn’t care what Lily thought of the house, even though it strangely pleased him. Rocco tried not to show it.
‘Grazie.’
She glanced over her shoulder towards the back of the property. ‘Are they …ruins?’
That feature was one of the many things that attracted him when he decided to move from Milan, because remaining in the city was suffocating him. ‘Sì. The Baths of Caracalla.’
‘You have ancient history. In your backyard.’
‘My property overlooks them. But if you care to dig, no doubt you’d find a coin or some artefact.’
Lily shook her head. ‘Well, that’s really something,’ she said, almost to herself. Then she looked at him, her blue eyes piercing like the bluebells that dotted the lower reaches of the garden under the trees. ‘No results in yet?’
A chill seemed to fall over the table. Did Lily believe they’d give her away? Or did she believe they would give her a hold over him? He applied his blandest of smiles when he wanted to grit his teeth and hiss out the words.
‘It’s only been two days.’
She nodded and bit into a pastry. ‘I thought you’d pay extra to be able to get rid of me.’
The words were said with bite, but he sensed a wound there. Like she expected rejection. He took a sip of his perfect black coffee.
‘You said you had no family.’