heart sink at his adamant statement. This was it. This was the part where he would state his intention of taking Molly back with him to Italy. Her stomach churned with anguish; how could she let this happen? Surely there was something she could do? She had grown up without her mother, without someone who loved her and understood her. How could she let the very same thing happen to little Molly?
‘I have a temporary solution,’ Mario said.
‘Y-you have?’ Sabrina’s voice was barely audible.
‘We are Molly’s godparents, and legally appointed guardians. These are both responsibilities I intend to take very seriously.’
‘I understand that but, as you say, we are both responsible for her, and I too take those responsibilities equally seriously,’ she said, wishing she had sounded more determined and less intimidated. Wishing she felt less intimidated.
His eyes held hers for a tense moment. ‘Then we shall have to share those responsibilities in the best way we can.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Sabrina asked, conscious of a frown tugging at her forehead. ‘I live in Australia, you live in Italy. It’s not as if we can share custody of an infant, or at least not in what the courts will acknowledge is an acceptable way with Molly’s best interests at heart. She can’t be shifted back and forth between countries. She’s just a baby, for God’s sake. I’m not sure what it’s like in your country, but here the courts are big on what is best for the child.’
His jaw was set in an intractable line, his black-brown gaze still drilling into hers. ‘Ric was my best friend,’ he said. ‘I will not stand by and let his daughter be brought up by a couple who in my opinion are not worthy of the custody of an animal, let alone a small infant.’
‘All the same, I think it’s going to be almost impossible to present a case against Ingrid and Stanley over Molly’s custody,’ she said, tearing her gaze away from his mouth with an effort. ‘I don’t know what else I can do. I have looked at this from every angle, and I can’t help thinking the odds are against Laura’s and Ric’s wishes ever being granted.’
There was another silence, weighted with something Sabrina couldn’t quite identify. She felt the tension in the air, the humidity of the atmosphere, the pressure of the unknown, the calm before the tumultuous, uncontrollable storm that was stealthily approaching.
‘I think we should get married as soon as possible.’
The words fell into the silence like boulders into a calm pond. The rings went outwards, rolling towards her, each one threatening to swamp her. Waves of panic washed over her; she swallowed great, drowning mouthfuls of it before she could speak.
‘W-what did you say?’ she choked.
He gave her a level look. ‘It is the only way we can secure Molly’s future,’ he said. ‘We are her godparents; if we marry, it will convince the court we are the most suitable candidates for her guardianship.’
Sabrina felt her brain start to whirl like an out of control adventure-park ride. Surely she was hearing things; had he really just suggested they marry each other? They were practically strangers. They had only met twice, and each time had circled each other like wary opponents. How could she agree to such a preposterous plan?
‘Think about it, Sabrina,’ he said. ‘I am a rich man who can provide everything Molly will ever need. You are an experienced hand at looking after infants and small children. We are also young enough to be good substitute-parents. It is a perfect solution.’
Sabrina finally located her voice, but it came out sounding like a rusty hinge. ‘You’re asking me to—to marry you?’
Mario’s eyes flickered in irritation at her tone. ‘It will not be a real marriage, if that is what is making you baulk at the prospect,’ he said. ‘We can each live our own lives—but of course you would have to live with me in Italy, at least until Molly is of an age when she does not need you so much. After that, we can reassess the situation and take appropriate action.’
Her grey eyes blinked at him, her soft mouth falling open, her cheeks developing a faint blush. ‘Live with you…in Italy?’ she said on a gulp.
Mario felt his annoyance rising at her. He was the one putting himself out on a limb here; he had sworn marriage was something he would never submit to. He loved his freedom; he relished every minute of being his own man, living the life he wanted to live without the ties of a permanent relationship. But, after receiving the news about his best friend’s death, he’d realised he would have to step up to the plate, and quickly.
Ric had once risked his own life to save Mario’s during a skiing trip in the Swiss Alps when they were nineteen. Mario knew he would not be alive and well today if it hadn’t been for Ric’s courage and persistence at digging him out of that avalanche with his bare hands. The bond of friendship that had always existed between them, had become so strong after that day Mario had felt sure even way back then that only death would be able to sever it.
Ric had trusted him to see to Molly’s interests and he would honour that trust, even if it meant temporarily tying himself to a woman with a more than tarnished reputation. Sabrina Halliday was all demure girl-next-door on the outside, but Mario had tasted a tiny morsel of what was simmering on the inside of that slim but all-woman figure. No doubt that was why she was playing the hard-to-get game with him now. He knew how gold-diggers worked, and as far as he was concerned she was a text-book case. She might have genuine affection for Molly, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of how much she could gain out of this situation.
‘I am prepared to pay you for every year we remain married,’ he said. ‘I am even prepared to negotiate with the amount.’
The frown she gave him seemed too quick to be anything but genuine, but he was well used to the guiles of women with dollar signs in their eyes.
‘You think I want to be paid to be your wife?’ she asked.
He pinned her grey gaze with his. ‘You can have what you want, Sabrina, name your figure. I want Molly under my care and I will pay anything to achieve it.’
This time her face went pale and her small, white teeth began to gnaw at her bottom lip. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me—’
‘Let’s not dawdle any longer over this, Sabrina,’ he cut her off impatiently. ‘I realise moving to another country is a big step to take—but, with what has been happening here recently, do you not think it is an ideal time to escape from all the innuendo and speculation that has surrounded you?’
Sabrina felt her face crawl with colour. Just like everyone else in Sydney, he thought she was guilty. She could see it in his eyes, the way they ran over her as if he could see right through her clothes. The press hadn’t done her any favours, certainly, but surely he of all people knew how the media worked? He had been subjected to it all of his life, so how unfair was it for him to so readily assume she was as she had been portrayed?
But marry him?
Her stomach dropped at the thought of being in the same country as him, let alone the same room. He was everything she was not. Hadn’t she proved that by her clumsy attempt to kiss him that day? How could she possibly agree to marry him and subject herself to daily temptation? And, even more worrying, would she be able to withstand any attempt on his part to consummate the union if he took it upon himself to do so? He was temptation personified. She could
