stood up abruptly. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind returning to your bed, I have work to do.’
She took a couple of steps towards him, obviously intending to usher him from the room, but he stood his ground. Drawing himself up to his full six feet he stared haughtily down at her. ‘I am not going anywhere until you explain what is going on. It’s obvious from what you said that we have met before, so why did you choose not say anything sooner?’
She turned away, taking her time as she sat down. Marco could tell that she was struggling to gather her composure and was more perplexed than ever. Even if they’d had an affair, this was the twenty-first century and most young women would take it in their stride. So what was she so afraid of?
‘I thought it best if I didn’t say anything.’
Her voice was so low that he wondered if he had misheard her and frowned. ‘Best? How? I don’t understand.’
‘Because … well, because they always say that it’s better if people remember things for themselves.’ She took a quick breath and hurried on. ‘If I’d told you everything I know about you then you’d never be sure if you’d remembered the details yourself or if I’d planted them in your mind, would you?’
It made sense, so much sense that Marco hesitated. It could very well explain why she had been so reluctant to acknowledge him and yet he had a gut feeling that there was more to it than that. A lot more, too.
‘I see. So it was purely a desire to help me that kept you quiet,’ he said smoothly.
‘I … Yes, that’s right.’ A little colour touched her cheeks as she reached for her pen. ‘I’m glad you understand that it was in your best interests that I said nothing, Dr Andretti.’
‘And how about your interests, Gina? Was it in your best interests that you remain silent, I wonder?’
He knew he’d scored a hit when he saw her face pale but, oddly, it didn’t give him any pleasure. To know that something must have happened in the past to make her so afraid of him was very hard to take. His tone was gentler when he continued, less confrontational. ‘Look, Gina, I don’t want to cause trouble. Not for you or for me. I just want to fill in as many of the blanks as possible.’
He shrugged, aware that it wasn’t usual for him to admit to any feelings of weakness. Normally he preferred to keep his emotions under wraps but he needed to draw her out, if he could. ‘I cannot begin to explain how terrifying it is not to be able to recall what has happened in your life. Even though I now remember quite a lot, there are many questions that still need answering.’
‘What sort of questions?’ she asked, and he frowned when he heard the tremor in her voice. It was obvious that she was under a great deal of strain and he hated to think that he was adding to the pressure on her, but he needed to find out all he could about this situation.
‘I don’t know!’ he declared in sudden frustration. ‘When you forget so much about your life, everything becomes a question. What do I enjoy doing when I’m not working, for instance? Where did I go for my last holiday? I can’t answer either of those things!’ He ran his hands through his hair, wishing he could physically force the memories to surface, and winced when his fingers encountered the tender spot above his ear.
‘Sit down.’ Gina was around the desk in a trice. She steered him towards a chair then went to the filing cabinet and switched on the kettle sitting on the top. ‘I’ll make you a cup of coffee. It’s only instant, I’m afraid. Sorry. I know you dislike it but it’s all we have.’
‘That is exactly what I mean.’ Marco sighed when she glanced round. ‘I didn’t know that I dislike instant coffee because I didn’t remember.’
The ghost of a smile touched her mouth. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything then you wouldn’t have been disappointed.’
Marco laughed. ‘Ignorance is bliss—isn’t that a saying you have in this country?’
‘Yes, it is.’ Her smile faded abruptly as she picked up the jar of coffee. ‘Sometimes it’s better to live in ignorance.’
Marco had no idea what to say to that. He knew instinctively that she wasn’t referring to his loss of memory and it puzzled him. What did she know that she didn’t want anyone to find out?
His breath caught as he watched her pour boiling water into the mugs because he realised that he needed to amend that question. What did Gina know that she didn’t want him finding out?
Gina placed the cups on the desk and sat down. She could feel herself trembling and took a deep breath. At some point during the past few minutes she had reached a decision. She wasn’t going to tell Marco about Lily. Maybe she would regret it later but she would worry about it then. Right now, it seemed more important that she keep her daughter’s existence a secret from him.
At the moment Lily was a happy and well-adjusted little girl. Gina had taken great care to ensure that the child enjoyed a stable home life. One of the reasons why she had ruled out having another relationship was because of the effect it could have on Lily. She had seen it happen to friends’ children. New partners arrived on the scene and the family’s dynamics had to alter accordingly. She didn’t want that for Lily, didn’t want her daughter to grow up surrounded by people who came and went in her life. She wanted Lily to have security.
If she told Marco about Lily, there was no knowing what he would do. Maybe he would be indifferent to the fact that he had a daughter but, more worryingly, he might want to play a role in the child’s life, at least for a while. She couldn’t bear to think that Lily might grow attached to him only to be let down at some point in the future. As she knew to her cost Marco could very easily change his mind.
Thoughts rushed through her head until she felt dizzy. She took a sip of her coffee, hoping it would steady her. If she was to stop Marco learning about Lily’s existence then she would need to be extremely careful about what she said.
‘How did we meet?’
She looked up when he spoke, feeling her heart jerk when she saw the way he was watching her so intently. He had always been very astute and she mustn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. Although she hated to talk about the past, she knew it would be better to tell him the truth—as far as she could.
‘I flew over to Florence to collect a patient you’d been treating,’ she answered, pleased to hear that her voice held no trace of the nervousness she felt.
‘I see.’ He frowned. ‘Obviously, you weren’t working here at the time.’
‘I worked for a company that repatriates clients to the UK when they’re taken ill abroad.’ She shrugged. ‘The gentleman I was due to collect had suffered a stroke. It was supposed to be quite straightforward. I’d collect him from the hospital and accompany him back to England. Unfortunately, he suffered a second stroke shortly before I arrived and you decided that he wasn’t fit to fly.’
‘So what happened then? Did you return to England?’
Gina heard the curiosity in his voice and realised there was no point prevaricating. ‘No. The patient’s family asked if I would stay while he was in hospital. He was on his own and they felt it would help if he had someone with him.’ She shrugged. ‘The family offered to pay my salary and the firm I worked for agreed to let me take some leave, so I said yes.’
‘For
