was under a huge amount of strain. The thought made him reconsider his decision to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Maybe they had known each other only for a very short time but she had helped him through a difficult period in his life. He owed it to her to listen to what she had to say at the very least.
Vincenzo turned and made his way to the sofa, surprised that he felt this way. He rarely felt under an obligation and couldn’t remember the last time he had put someone else’s needs before his own. However, there was something about the fear in Lowri’s hazel eyes that touched a chord inside him. He wanted to help her even though he had no idea why.
‘Thank you.’
Her voice was soft, filled with a relief that made his skin prickle in atavistic response. It was as though it had sliced through all the layers that had built up over the years and cut right to the very heart of him. Vincenzo took a deep breath, feeling oddly disorientated. He always knew how to behave in any situation, was always able to harness his emotions and steer them in the direction he wanted them to go, but not now. Not when he could tell how much it meant to her to have him do her bidding.
‘The fact that I am willing to listen to you means nothing,’ he said harshly, hating the fact that he felt so vulnerable. It was such an alien feeling and one he didn’t intend to foster either.
‘Maybe not, but it’s a start.’
She gave him a quick smile as she sat down and Vincenzo felt his own mouth start to curl in imitation of hers before he stopped it. Leaning back against the cushions, he stared coldly back at her, needing to set the tone for how the conversation would continue. Maybe she hoped to persuade him to agree to her request by employing all her charm, but there was no way that it was going to happen. He had never wanted children and he wasn’t about to change his mind...although if what she had said was true, perhaps it was already too late to turn his back on fatherhood.
The thought sent a chill coursing through him. Vincenzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although he was loath even to consider the idea that he might be the child’s father, he had to admit that she looked a lot like him. What if she was his daughter? What was he going to do then?
He had sworn that he would never have a family. His own less than idyllic childhood had put him off the idea. His mother had died shortly before his second birthday and he didn’t remember her at all. His father had brought him up and he had made it abundantly clear how much he had resented the time he’d had to spend with him.
Vincenzo had taken his lead from that. In his view, children needed far too much time and attention. He had seen how his colleagues struggled to balance the demands of family life with their work and he had vowed that he would never place himself in the same position. His job came first and everything else a very poor second. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to raise a family and he needed to make that clear before they went any further. Even in the unlikely event that the child turned out to be his, he didn’t intend to get involved.
‘I need to make my position perfectly clear, Signorina Davies. If what you say is correct, and it does turn out that I am the child’s father, I have no intention of getting involved in her life. Quite simply, children are not on my agenda and they never will be.’
He stared at Lowri, waiting for her to react, but her expression didn’t alter and, strangely enough, he wished that it had. It would have been that much easier to know what to say next if she had reacted with anger or incredulity even. He cleared his throat, feeling his stomach churning because he suddenly found himself in the unwelcome position of having to second-guess what she was thinking.
‘I am willing to have the DNA tests done if it means they will resolve this matter. If they prove that I am the father then naturally I shall make arrangements regarding the child’s support. However, that is where my involvement ends. I have no desire to play any role whatsoever in her life, you must understand.’
‘I do. I understand perfectly. However, I didn’t come here to ask you for money, Vincenzo. I am more than capable of supporting our daughter without your help.’
Her voice held a disdain that made Vincenzo’s skin heat with embarrassment. It was as though he had been put to the test and found wanting and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He stared back at her, doing his best to rein in the odd mix of emotions that filled him. Anger and shame weren’t things he was used to feeling and he didn’t appreciate the fact that she could trigger such a response in him.
‘You say that now but who’s to say you won’t change your mind at some point? If I am the child’s father then I shall instruct my lawyers to draw up the appropriate papers.’ He shrugged, feeling easier now that he was back in control of the conversation. ‘If you don’t wish to use the money, it can be put into a trust fund for the child to use in the future.’
‘Megan. Her name is Megan. Referring to her as the child won’t change anything, Vincenzo. She’s still your daughter!’
Lowri glared at him. If she’d had a choice she would have got up right then and left, but she didn’t have a choice, did she? She needed his help so she had to stay, had to persuade him to do what she wanted.
Her stomach rolled as it struck her how unlikely it was that he would agree. Even though she had known from the outset that it had been a long shot, she had hoped that she might be able to convince him to help her. Now, after what he had said about children not being on his agenda, it seemed less likely than ever. The thought that she might have failed brought a rush of tears to her eyes but she blinked them away. She wouldn’t give up, not yet, not until she had done everything possible to persuade him.
Reaching into her bag, she took out a second photograph. It had been taken the previous week, shortly after Megan had been allowed home from hospital. Despite the fact that she had been exhausted, Megan was smiling as she held up the new doll Lowri had bought for her. She’d been so brave, Lowri thought, running her fingertip over the glossy surface of the photograph. Megan had been through so much in her short life yet she had still found the courage to smile for the camera. Now she had to be just as brave if she was to have any hope of saving her beloved daughter.
She laid the photograph on the coffee table then placed the first one next to it, her heart aching as she compared the two. Nobody looking at these pictures could fail to be moved by what they saw and she could only pray that Vincenzo’s heart would be touched too.
‘This was taken last week when Megan came home from hospital,’ she explained, her voice catching. She cleared her throat, knowing that she couldn’t afford to break down. She needed to persuade him to help her and to do that she had to be coherent, had to lay out her arguments in a logical sequence and convince him that it was the right thing to do.
The thought of what she wanted from him made her heart race but she ignored it. She would worry about that later; think about what it would entail after she had done this.
‘She lost her hair after the chemotherapy but we’re going to get her a wig as soon as I get back home.’ She gave a little laugh, stopping the instant she felt it start to turn into a sob. ‘Apparently, she wants a bright pink one, just like her favourite doll, so we should have fun choosing it.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Vincenzo’s voice was still cool, but Lowri heard the catch in it he tried so hard to hide and felt relief pour through her. So he wasn’t totally impervious to their daughter’s plight after all!
It took every scrap of strength she could muster to keep her own voice steady; however, she knew that he would retreat behind that wall he had erected between himself and the world if she showed too much emotion, and then wondered
