Claiming His Secret Love-Child: The Marciano Love-Child / The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child / The Rich Man's Love-Child. Maggie Cox
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‘Why did you agree to take on this project if you loathe him so much?’ Lenore asked.
‘I’ve worked for difficult clients before.’
‘You will be careful, won’t you, love?’
‘Mum, stop worrying about me. I know what I’m doing.’
‘How much is he paying you?’
‘A lot.’
‘How much?’
‘Enough,’ Scarlett answered. ‘I’ll be able to get into the black with my business loan.’
Lenore sighed. ‘I wish I’d been able to help you a bit more, but my welfare payment is hardly enough to live on and—’
‘Mum, stop it. We’ve been through this a hundred times before. I’m twenty-six years old, far too grown up and independent to be taking money off my mother.’
‘I know, sweetheart, but Sophie’s done so well, I just wish—’
‘Mum, this is me you’re talking to, not Sophie. I want different things for my life. I would go crazy living like Sophie does. I hate coffee mornings and bridge parties. I don’t want or need a rich husband and designer clothes to feel good about myself.’
‘I know that, darling, but sometimes I wish you were a bit more established financially,’ Lenore said. ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if you could find a nice man to settle down with, perhaps have another child, a little half-brother or sister for Matthew?’
Scarlett closed her eyes as she fought against the ambivalence of her feelings. She had one child, a perfect little son who was the image of his father. She wasn’t ready to think of having another child by another man. The few dates she had been more or less coerced into by her sister had confirmed she wasn’t quite ready to move on.
‘Scarlett?’
‘I’m OK, Mum, really,’ Scarlett reassured her. ‘It’s just been a heck of a day, that’s all.’
‘Yes, love, of course it has,’ Lenore responded. ‘It must have been so hard seeing him again.’
‘Yes… Yes, it was…’
There was a small silence.
‘Scarlett?’
‘It’s all right, Mum. I’m not in any danger of making the same mistake twice.’
‘I know, but history has a habit of repeating itself, as you know from my experience. I took your father back, and while I’m glad I did, because it meant you were born as a result of our brief reconciliation, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt all over again.’
‘I’m not going to allow myself to get hurt,’ Scarlett said with a confidence she didn’t really feel. ‘I’ve grown up in the last four years, Mum. I’m not going to get my heart broken again.’
A courier arrived mid-morning with the floor plans of the hotel, but there was no accompanying note inside. Scarlett knew it was inconsistent of her to feel so out of sorts, for she was the one who had insisted it was a business deal and nothing else.
She spent the rest of the day worrying that Alessandro would walk in the door of her studio, and yet as she shut her computer down at five p.m. she felt strangely disappointed and aggrieved that he hadn’t.
Matthew was tired, but excited when she picked him up from crèche when she told him his granny was going to babysit him that evening.
‘I drewed you a picture,’ he announced proudly, unrolling the piece of art paper he had in his hands.
Scarlett smiled as she looked at the bright smudges of paint. ‘Wow, that’s beautiful, darling. What is it?’
‘It’s a cat like Tinkles, only not dead.’
Scarlett frowned as she thought about how she had handled the recent death of their neighbour’s cat. She had couched it in euphemistic terms, but it seemed Matthew had understood it in his own way.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Can you do one for Mrs West as well? I’m sure she’d love to have a reminder of Tinkles.’
‘Can we get a cat?’ he asked as they came to the car. ‘Or what about a puppy? I’d love a puppy.’
‘Darling, we live in a flat,’ she said. ‘It would be cruel to have a kitten or puppy locked up inside all day.’
His little face fell in disappointment. ‘But Mrs West had a cat.’
‘I know, but Tinkles was very old and used to living inside, and Mrs West was home with him all day so he never got lonely.’
‘What about a daddy?’ he asked after a moment. ‘Can we have one of those?’
Scarlett disguised her shock by concentrating on unlocking the car and settling him into his car seat. ‘I’m not sure about that, sweetie.’
‘I wish my real one wasn’t dead,’ he said as he wriggled into the seat and automatically lifted up his arms so she could snap the restraining belt in place. ‘What if we prayed to God and asked him to make him come alive again?’
She had to look away from those big hazel eyes. ‘I’ve prayed and prayed, darling, but it’s not going to happen.’
‘I’m still going to pray,’ his little voice piped up from the back seat as she got behind the wheel a few moments later.
Scarlett met his beautiful green-brown gaze in the rear-view mirror and smiled, even though it hurt. ‘Let’s hope God is listening,’ she said, and took the turn towards home.
Dylan saw Scarlett as soon as she came in the door of his restaurant and, smiling broadly, embraced her in a solid hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Scarlett. I was thrilled when I looked at the bookings and saw you and Roxanne had booked in for tonight. It’s been a few months since I saw you both. My fault more than yours, so don’t start apologising. I’ve been a bit antisocial since Olivia left.’
‘I understand,’ Scarlett said, returning his hug.
‘So how’s the business and Roxanne?’
‘I’m expecting her any minute,’ Scarlett said. ‘She’s probably having trouble parking. I had to shoehorn my way into the tiniest spot.’
Dylan smiled. ‘Let’s have a quick drink together while you wait for her,’ he suggested, and signalled for the drinks waiter. ‘The apprentice chef I have is brilliant, so I can trust him to hold the fort for a few minutes. The dinner crowd hasn’t trickled in yet.’
After two glasses of champagne were set down in front of them, he asked, ‘How’s Matthew?’
‘He’s good,’ she said with a smile. ‘Growing up all the time.’
‘He’s