to be awkward but it’s too soon for you to be taking Finn to Sicily.’
‘I would say it’s too late. I have been incredibly patient, dolcezza…’
She snorted inelegantly.
‘But Finn has been deprived of half his heritage. It is time for him to learn the Valente half of himself.’
She dropped her stare. When she looked back at him he couldn’t tell if it was anguish or anger that was the most prevalent emotion in her eyes. ‘Is that what this evening is all about?’ she accused. ‘A nice meal together to lull me into a false sense of security before you snatch my son from me?’
‘You need to get some perspective,’ he said coolly.
‘Perspective?’ She clutched at her hair and looked as if she was preparing to shout at him. Thankfully the waiter arrived at their table to clear their plates away, giving her a few moments to calm herself.
‘Tonino, please, just listen to me,’ she beseeched. ‘Tonight is the first time in two years that I’ve left Finn for longer than half an hour. I’ve spent the evening stopping myself from phoning home to check on him every five minutes. I know I must sound selfish, but I can’t…’ To his shock, tears filled her eyes. She closed them and took another long breath. ‘I don’t know how I’ll cope without him for a whole week. And then to do it all again a week later?’
Cope without him?
Suddenly everything became clear.
Leaning forward, Tonino stared at her until her damp eyes met his. ‘Orla, I never said I would take him to Sicily without you.’
Confusion creased her brow. ‘Didn’t you? But you only spoke about Finn and getting to know him and introducing him to your family and the party and everything.’
He muttered a curse under his breath. ‘I want all these things but I cannot believe you would think me cruel enough to take him without you. He hardly knows me. It would terrify him.’ And, he could see, destroy Orla. ‘You seem to have a habit of assuming the worst about me.’
‘I’m sorry…in fairness, you did threaten a custody battle,’ she reminded him. ‘It’s not an easy thing to forget.’
He drummed his fingers against his wine glass. ‘I accept that, but those threats were made in anger and I’ve assured you since that I don’t want to put Finn through that. Stop thinking the worst and accept that, where our son is concerned, you and I are of the same mind—we only want what’s best for him.’
She slumped in her chair and pressed her palm to her forehead. ‘I can be such an eejit.’
‘Sì,’ he agreed.
A smile unexpectedly formed on his lips as he recalled the first time he’d heard that particular Irish insult from her. They’d been driving in his car—well, not his car but one of the staff cars he’d bought for his hotel staff to do their errands in—with the roof down when he’d made a comment about something, he didn’t remember what. He did, however, remember Orla lightly punching him on his biceps and calling him an eejit.
That had been one hell of a good day. The sun had blazed as hot as their passion and through it all had been the knowledge that this sweet, funny, beautiful woman had wanted him only for himself. She had wanted Tonino the man, not Tonino Valente the billionaire hotelier. She hadn’t wanted to be in his bed to join the Valente dynasty, she hadn’t been playing the role of a chess piece taking a strategic move with the ultimate hope of becoming his queen.
She’d just wanted him.
The memories filled him with a warmth that had him reaching out to cover her hand. ‘You and Finn come as a package. I accept that. Now you need to accept that I’m part of that package too and that means telling Dante his money isn’t needed any more. I’ll be paying for everything now.’ Before she could protest, he added, ‘I’m Finn’s father. You two are my responsibility.’
She tugged her hand from his and wrapped her fingers around her glass of water. ‘If you want to pay for Finn’s care then I won’t argue, but I’m not your responsibility.’
‘You’re the mother of my child.’
‘Exactly. I’m not your child. I’m an adult. Dante gave me my share of what was left of our father’s estate and got his lawyers to make the insurance company pay out. I have money of my own right now.’
‘How much?’
‘Enough to keep me going for a few years.’
‘Marry me and you need never worry about money again.’
She gave a splutter that could have been laughter or exasperation. ‘How many times are we going to have this conversation before you get it in your thick head that I’m not going to marry you?’
‘My mother assured me throughout my childhood that it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. I have every intention of changing yours.’
‘Good luck with that. I’m a stubborn mule.’
‘And I’ve never been able to resist a challenge.’ He poured himself some more wine and contemplated her lazily. Now that he’d put her mind at ease about her travelling to Sicily with Finn, she’d visibly relaxed.
She had the peaceful air about her that he remembered from before and for a moment he could almost imagine they were the same two people they’d been then.
But of course they weren’t. He wasn’t the same man. And she wasn’t the same woman. Her memory was mostly repaired and she looked the same as she’d done four years ago but her movements had lost much of their old grace. She tired easily. Even the way she ate, holding her knife and fork so tightly, cutting her food with such concentration…
‘You were six months pregnant when the accident happened?’ he asked carefully.
She nodded. A sad smile curved her cheeks. ‘Finn was born by emergency Caesarean. He spent eight weeks in Intensive Care. They didn’t think he was going to make it.’ A spark flashed in her eyes. ‘But our son’s a fighter. He proved them all wrong.’
Feeling his stomach clench then churn, he took a moment to ask, ‘And you? Was there a danger you wouldn’t have made it?’
She hesitated before giving the tiniest of nods. ‘I was in a coma for three weeks and then under sedation for another month. But I’m fine now,’ she hastened to add. ‘And things are massively better with Finn too. We know what we’re dealing with and I always think that’s half the battle.’
‘Who looked after him while you were in hospital? Aislin?’ She’d already said Aislin had been the one to register Finn’s birth.
She gave another nod. ‘She quit her degree—quit her life—to look after us both. When I finally came home, she taught me how to care for him. Finn is my miracle. Aislin is my angel.’
She’d already described Dante as her knight in shining armour. So what did that make Tonino?
He thought it better not to ask.
‘Where
