an attractive, willowy blonde on his arm.
‘What’s wrong?’ Dylan asked, leaning forward in concern.
Scarlett swallowed the bitter taste of bile in her throat. ‘Er…nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all.’
Dylan glanced towards the entrance. ‘That’s Velika Vanovic, the model everyone is talking about. See how popular you’ve made me?’ he said, turning back to smile at Scarlett. ‘Everyone famous or high profile wants to come here and enjoy the ambiance.’
‘I think I’ve seen her on a billboard, she’s very beautiful…’ Scarlett answered feebly, staring at the bubbles in her glass, hoping the knives of jealousy currently attacking her insides would soon disappear.
‘The man with her seems vaguely familiar,’ Dylan commented, frowning slightly. ‘I wonder where I’ve seen him before…. Hey, isn’t he that guy you were seeing in Milan?’ He swung his gaze back to her in confusion. ‘Scarlett, didn’t you tell us he was dead?’
She shifted position in the hope that Alessandro wouldn’t see her. ‘I can explain…’
‘Oh look, they’re coming this way.’
Scarlett felt her stomach clench as Alessandro and the glamourous model approached.
‘Good evening, Scarlett,’ Alessandro said, running his gaze over her appraisingly. ‘What a coincidence, seeing you here like this.’
Scarlett rose with Dylan from the sofa. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is.’
Dylan offered a hand to Alessandro with a pleasant smile. ‘Hello, Alessandro. It’s been a long time. What, nearly four years?’
For a moment Scarlett wondered if Alessandro was going to ignore Dylan’s outstretched hand, but after what was probably only a nano-second of hesitation he took it and shook it cursorily. ‘Yes, something like that,’ he said, his eyes flicking towards Scarlett with an inscrutable look. ‘Velika, this is Scarlett Fitzpatrick, the interior designer I was telling you about. Scarlett, this is Velika Vanovic.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Scarlett said, and took the other woman’s cold, thin hand briefly.
‘Likewise,’ Velika said in a husky tone, although the chill of her light-brown eyes belied her comment.
‘So,’ Dylan smiled pleasantly. ‘You’re here for dinner as well?’
‘Yes,’ Alessandro said, his gaze shifting to take in the twin glasses of champagne on the coffee table.
Scarlett felt the scorch of Alessandro’s gaze as it met hers; she felt as if every layer of her skin was being lasered off by the heat of it. She knew what he was thinking; she could see it in the rigidness of his jaw. In spite of her assurances to the contrary, Alessandro had always been convinced Dylan had designs on her. He had only met him once or twice, as Dylan, Jessica and Joe had been keen to get on with their tour. But Scarlett knew that finding her here sharing a drink with Dylan was hardly going to convince Alessandro that nothing but platonic friendship bound them to each other.
‘I hope you enjoy your evening with us,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll organise the head waiter to see you to your table, unless you would like a drink in the lounge first?’
‘Thank you, but I think we will go straight to our table,’ Alessandro said. ‘Velika and I have somewhere else to go after dinner.’
To bed, most likely, Scarlett thought with another sickening wave of jealousy.
Alessandro looked down at her as if he could read her thoughts. ‘Enjoy your evening, Scarlett.’
‘We will,’ she answered with a little hitch of her chin.
Dylan waited until Alessandro and his partner were led to their table before he spoke in a low undertone. ‘OK, so you have some explaining to do, young lady,’ he said in mock reproach. ‘That’s Matthew’s father, isn’t it?’
Scarlett gave him a ‘please forgive me’ look. ‘Yes.’
‘I can see the likeness, it’s absolutely unmistakable,’ he said. ‘To tell you the truth, I never really did buy that story about Matthew’s father dying in a car accident, but I figured you had your reasons so I kept quiet.’
‘I’m sorry…I should have told you. Roxanne is still furious with me about it. You and the others had gone to the States by then. By the time you came back home, I couldn’t really tell you one thing and everyone else another.’
He took one of her hands in his and gave it a little squeeze. ‘So what gives?’
Scarlett could feel her hand shaking beneath the gentle pressure of his. ‘He doesn’t believe Matthew is his.’
‘Hasn’t anyone told him about DNA tests?’ he remarked wryly. ‘A friend of mine bought one off the internet. All it takes is a quick swab and the results are back in a couple of days. It puts an end to the argument over paternity right then and there.’
‘I begged him to have one at the time, but he point-blank refused. By the time I thought about pursuing it legally, I realised he might not be such a good person to have in Matthew’s life.’
‘Why’s that?’
She picked up her glass and watched as the miniature necklaces of bubbles rose to the surface. ‘My father made it a point to remind me whenever he could of how I was unplanned and unwanted. I didn’t want to risk Matthew being exposed to the same.’
Dylan gave her a look of concern. ‘You still hold a bit of a candle for him, don’t you?’
Scarlett met his clear grey eyes. ‘No,’ she said with steely emphasis. ‘I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive him for what he’s done. Every day I think about how Matthew has missed out on so much. I can’t forgive Alessandro for robbing our child of what he should have had.’
‘It’s upset you, seeing him with that woman, hasn’t it?’ Dylan said gently.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course it upset me. He’s living the life of the rich playboy while I’ve been bringing up his son without support.’
‘Money isn’t everything,’ Dylan put in. ‘You’ve given Matthew a much greater gift in loving him.’
‘It’s not about the money,’ Scarlett said on a sigh. ‘It’s about the emotional support. It means everything to me.’
Roxanne came in at that point, looking flustered. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, but my car broke down, and I—’ She pulled up short when she saw Dylan. ‘Oh…hi.’
‘Hello Roxanne.’ Dylan rose and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. ‘How nice to see you again.’
Roxanne’s cheeks became pink, and she looked even more flustered. ‘Thanks. You too.’
‘Well, I’d better leave you girls to get on with your evening,’ Dylan said. ‘I can see one of my kitchen staff waving at me.’
He
