The Italian's Love-Child. Emma Darcy

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The Italian's Love-Child - Emma Darcy Mills & Boon By Request

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he’d been still hanging on, working for the Peretti Corporation, maintaining at least that professional link, hoping for a change of attitude, a change of heart from his parents, wanting an acceptance of his reality, thinking he could force an acceptance— blindly tied to bonds that had to be broken, proving to Skye he was truly free of them.

      An act of love for an act of faith.

      He looked at his father who’d ruled so much of his life, but would rule no more. ‘My resignation will be on your desk Monday morning, Dad. Effective immediately.’

      ‘You can’t do that!’ he blustered, clearly appalled by this decision and seizing on a cogent argument against it. ‘You’re under contract for the resort in Far North Queensland.’

      ‘Then I’m giving notice that this will be the last contract I’ll work on. As soon as it’s done…’

      ‘You’ll give up everything for this woman?’ he yelled, his face reddening with the intensity of his outrage.

      Yes, he would.

      He’d told Skye he would.

      It was well past time he did it.

      He shook his head over his father’s total lack of understanding of what Skye gave him. There was no point in trying to explain what wouldn’t be heard anyway. He simply said, ‘I just won’t be held by your expectations of me any longer. Your father emigrated to Australia on his own to build a new life for himself, Dad. I can make a new life elsewhere, too.’

      ‘No! No! You must stop this!’ his mother broke in again. ‘You men and your headstrong pride! You are breaking my heart! Both of you!’ She dropped back into her armchair, slumping over, her hands pressed to her chest.

      ‘See what you’ve done? Upsetting your mother?’ His father bellowed at him, striding over to the chair to put a comforting arm around her.

      Emotional blackmail.

      The weeping and wailing would start any second.

      ‘I’m sorry, Mamma, but this situation was not of my making,’ Luc said, softening his tone while still holding to his own determination. ‘We all have choices.’ He cast one last look at his father to state unequivocally, ‘I’ve made mine.’

      Then he walked out.

      Out of the drawing room.

      Out of the multi-million dollar mansion.

      Out of the lives of his parents.

      He could start a new life elsewhere.

      And he would.

      His own family, making their own friends, completely free of the past.

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      IT WAS there again!

      Skye’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the black limousine, parked directly across the street from her house, as it had been each afternoon for the past three days.

      Her last client of the day noticed it, too—so totally out of place in this neighbourhood. As out of place as Luc’s red Ferrari! ‘Is there a wedding?’ she asked, trying to find an explanation for its presence.

      ‘I don’t know,’ Skye answered.

      Her client shrugged, stepped off the front porch and headed towards the gate. The limousine had nothing to do with her. Skye couldn’t feel quite so dismissive of it. The tinted windows made it impossible to see if anyone was seated inside the car, but she felt as though she was being watched.

      She quickly shut the door, wishing her anxious tension could be blocked out as easily as the limousine which she found increasingly disturbing. Luc was away this week, having flown up to Cairns in far north Queensland for on-site meetings about a new project. His father would know that. Was someone from the Peretti family behind those tinted windows, looking for ammunition that could be used against her?

      There was none.

      But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be manufactured.

      Or was she being hopelessly paranoid?

      Skye tried to shake off her worry as she threw off her masseur clothes on which she’d spilled some oil, took a shower, then dressed in jeans and T-shirt to go and pick up Matt from school. Only three more weeks now and the school year would be over. Her life here at Brighton-Le-Sands would be over.

      Luc wanted to get married before Christmas and once they were, she and Matt would move to his Bondi apartment where they’d live until this last contract with the Peretti Corporation was completed. Then they’d relocate, close to wherever Luc decided to set up business for himself.

      It was all settled.

      Except the black limousine made her feel unsettled.

      Skye decided she would tell Luc about it tonight when he called, as he called every night to chat with her and Matt over the phone. He had informed his family about their forthcoming marriage. Predictably the news had not been met with joy. Luc had insisted it didn’t matter. The future he wanted revolved around her and Matt.

      Skye believed him. All this year he’d shown he was happy with them, persuading her that a marriage between them was workable, despite his family lurking in the background. His decision to resign from his position in his father’s business empire was the ultimate proof of freedom from an influence she’d still feared. It gave her far more confidence in their future together.

      But would his family leave them alone?

      The limousine was still there when she left the house to walk to Matt’s school. She could have driven the Alfa so as not to feel exposed to watching eyes, but it was a fine sunny afternoon and it wasn’t her habit to drive when a walk would be pleasant. Besides, she had nothing to hide.

      Matt was bubbling with news about the end of year school concert. They’d just had a rehearsal for it. His class was doing a selection of nursery rhymes in song and action and he was demonstrating how he twinkled like a star, singing away at the top of his voice as they turned into their street.

      The limousine had not moved.

      Matt broke off his song to comment, ‘The big black car is there again, Mummy.’

      ‘So it is,’ she replied, trying to sound careless.

      ‘Maybe a giant lives in it,’ he speculated. ‘His legs are too long to fit in an ordinary car.’

      ‘You could be right,’ Skye lightly agreed while her mind painted in a scary giant, like Maurizio Peretti whose great wealth gave him a very long reach.

      ‘Look, Mummy! The door is opening!’ Matt cried excitedly, delighted at the prospect of seeing the occupant.

      The driver’s door! So someone was inside behind the tinted windows! Skye felt herself tensing up but the chauffeur who emerged was not enough in himself to confirm her fears.

      ‘It’s just a man in a uniform,’

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