can let go of her, Cesare. Go and stand by the door.’
With a grunt of obedience her captor released her and moved away.
Leah let out a gasping breath. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
The words came out in a torrent of fury, but Leah kept her voice low, mindful of Jaco’s warning, and even more mindful of the fact that he was standing between her and the bedroom where Gabriel was still sleeping. With her mind racing in all directions she desperately tried to figure out a way of distracting Jaco so that she could go to Gabriel, scoop him up and run away with him—and keep on running until she woke up from this nightmare.
But this was no bad dream. This was horribly real. As the heavy breathing of the man mountain who was guarding the front door behind her reminded her. Not to mention the arrogant specimen of manhood who had planted himself before her.
‘I’ve told you—you and the baby are leaving. Go and pack a bag.’
Leah shook her head in disbelief, furrowing her brow as she stared at him. ‘Jaco, this is ridiculous. Have you taken leave of your senses?’
Jaco gave a low growl. ‘I can assure you my senses are perfectly intact. Now, do as you’re told.’
‘But—’
‘Five minutes, Leah. You have five minutes to gather your belongings.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘Then you will be leaving with nothing. Because you and the baby are coming with me, either way.’
‘So you are kidnapping us? Is that it?’ Her voice shrieked with rising hysteria.
‘I prefer to call it removing you to a place of safety.’
‘Safety?’ Astonishment stiffened her spine. ‘We were perfectly safe here, until you crashed in.’
‘No, you weren’t, Leah.’
‘What do you mean? Of course we were.’
‘I am not prepared to discuss this now. You are under my protection and you will do as I say. Go and pack.’
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her in the direction of the bedroom, the touch of his fingers burning against her bare flesh.
‘And hurry up about it.’
Leah stood in the dark room, listening to the sound of her baby’s soft breathing and the thud of her own heart. This was complete madness. Her eyes quickly darted around, but there was no escape from here. The apartment was on the fourth floor of a high-rise tower block, and the only window offered nothing more than a view of the sleeping London skyline.
Working on autopilot, she pulled a suitcase from the wardrobe and started to stuff in some of her clothes. Then opening a drawer, she took out Gabriel’s baby clothes, plucking more little vests and sleepsuits off the drying rack beside her and shoving them in the case too.
In truth, she had very few belongings. Since coming to London nine months ago she had moved more times than she could remember, going from one dank and dingy room in a grotty shared house to another, finding jobs wherever she could to try and make ends meet, before finally swallowing her pride and signing on for state benefits.
When the council had found her this flat—literally days before Gabriel had been born—she had wept with relief. It wasn’t much, but it was a home, and that meant everything to her.
‘Are you done?’
She turned to see Jaco silhouetted in the doorway, all dark, menacing authority.
‘Jaco, why are you doing this to us?’ She walked towards him, keeping her voice calm, firm. If there was one last chance to stop this madness she was going to seize it. ‘If you will tell me what’s going on I’m sure we could work something out between us.’
‘Could we, now?’ Sarcasm scored his voice.
‘Yes—why not?’
‘Because I have no interest in working things out with a woman who has been so deliberately deceitful...’ his gaze fell on the sleeping baby in the crib ‘...that she has kept from me the fact that I am a father.’
‘Jaco... I...’
‘Save it, Leah.’ He raised his hand. ‘You will have plenty of time to explain yourself later. First we are getting out of here.’
‘But where are we going?’ She was pleading now.
‘You’ll find out soon enough. Give me your passports.’
‘Passports?’ A fresh wave of panic washed over her.
‘That’s what I said.’ Jaco fixed her with a punishing stare.
‘No—you’re not having them.’
‘Hand them over, Leah.’
‘No.’ She squared up to him. ‘You can’t make me.’
‘Keep me waiting any longer and you will find that I can.’
Leah glared at him in desperation. Whatever had happened to the charming man she’d once thought she knew?
‘Jaco...’ She tried again. ‘Why are you behaving like this?’
‘Passports.’ He held out his hand impatiently. ‘Now.’
With no alternative but to do as she was told, Leah ducked past him and, going into the tiny kitchen, opened a drawer and took out two passports, holding them against her chest. Too late she realised she could have lied—told Jaco that Gabriel didn’t have a passport. The only reason he had one was because she had wanted to be prepared for any eventuality—including fleeing the country to get away from Jaco if necessary.
Over the past twelve months Leah had spent far too much time thinking about Jaco Valentino—he had crowded her head, pervaded her thoughts day and night as if there was no escape from him. Finding out he was a cheating, two-timing bastard had broken her heart, and if that wasn’t enough a darker worm of doubt had begun to eat away at her. About his background, his business dealings, the sort of people he associated with.
She had found herself remembering things that had barely registered at the time. The skilful way he had avoided talking about his past, for example, and the set of his jaw—just a little too firm—when she had threatened to pry too much. His obsession with work—constantly checking his phone, working late into the night...
On more than one occasion she had come across him at two or three in the morning, having stealthily removed himself from her bed, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop, a look of grim determination on his face. With the laptop hurriedly closed at her approach, she had politely but firmly been ordered back to bed, any attempt to ask him what he was working on dismissed with a kiss on the lips before she had been shepherded away.
In retrospect, his need for privacy had been excessive, and now Leah had another word for it—secrecy.
