unnerving her, and this was no time for her to be compromised. So, he was a hotshot restaurateur. Good for him. But what difference did that make when it came to his character? Success didn’t make him a saint. “So you’re presuming that rich businessmen can’t be murderers or child molesters? I counter that they just have better lawyers.”
“My client is willing to cooperate to soothe your concerns, Mrs. Douglas. We’re not the bad guys here. We’re just trying to ensure that Eva is in Mr. Moretti’s life. We welcome you to have a background check conducted. You won’t find anything questionable. But when you don’t find the skeletons you’re looking for, you’re going to have to let him see Eva.”
“And if Mrs. Douglas doesn’t cooperate?”
Claire held her breath, waiting to see what they would say. Would they push her or back down until their court date?
“Then,” Edmund explained, “we stop playing nice. I’ll file an emergency visitation motion to compel access to Eva and let the courts decide. You can be certain the judge will give my client even more time with his daughter than we’re requesting. It’s your choice, Mrs. Douglas.”
* * *
So this was Claire Douglas.
Luca had to admit he was surprised. Her name had been on his mind and crossed his desk a hundred times since the mix-up came to light. He didn’t know what he was expecting the widowed Mrs. Douglas to look like, but young, slender and blonde had not been on the list. It had taken everything he had to hold his composure when he turned from the window and saw her standing there.
Her practical gray suit clung to every delicious curve and almost exactly matched the shade of her eyes. Her honey-colored hair was twisted back into a professional bun at her nape. He wanted to pull out the hair pins and let the blond waves tumble over her shoulders.
The longer he sat watching Claire, the more curious he became about her. How had a woman so young become a widow? Was she always this uptight, or was it just because she didn’t like him? He wanted to run his thumb between her eyebrows to smooth the crease her serious frown had worn there.
It made him wonder if their daughter looked more like him or her. Did she have Claire’s porcelain skin and pert nose? Did her ears turn red when she got angry the way her mother’s did? The furious shift in Claire had immediately caught his attention. There was more fire in her than the bland gray suit would indicate.
“Can they do that?” Claire asked, turning to her lawyer. She looked completely panicked by the thought of Luca having access to their child.
Their child.
It seemed so wrong for him to have a child with a woman he’d never met. Luca hadn’t even given any serious thought to having a family. He’d only stored his sperm to make the doctors and his mother feel better. He hadn’t actually expected to use it.
But now that he had a living, breathing child, he wasn’t about to sit back and pretend it didn’t happen. Eva was probably the only child he would ever have, and he’d already missed months of her life. That would not continue.
“We can and we will.” Luca spoke up at last. “This whole thing is a mess that neither of us anticipated, but it doesn’t change the facts. Eva is my daughter, and I’ve got the paternity test results to prove it. There’s not a judge in the county of New York who won’t grant me emergency visitation while we await our court date. They will say when and where and how often you have to give her to me.”
Claire sat, her mouth agape at his words. “She’s just a baby. She’s only six months old. Why fight me for her just so you can hand her over to a nanny?”
Luca laughed at her presumptuous tone. “What makes you so certain I’ll have a nanny for her?”
“Because...” she began. “You’re a rich, powerful, unmarried businessman. You’re better suited to run a corporation than to change a diaper. I’m willing to bet you don’t have the first clue of how to care for an infant, much less the time.”
Luca just shook his head and sat forward in his seat. “You know very little about me, tesorina, you’ve said so yourself, so don’t presume anything about me. Besides, even if I have a nanny, it doesn’t matter because Eva is my daughter, too. I’m going to fight for the right to see her even if all I do is pass her off to someone else. Like it or not, you don’t get any say into what I do when I have her.”
Claire narrowed her gaze at him. She definitely didn’t like him pushing her. And he was pushing her. Partially because he liked to see the fire in her eyes and the flush of her skin, and partially because it was necessary to get through to her.
Neither of them had asked for this to happen to them, but she needed to learn she wasn’t in charge. They had to cooperate if this awkward situation was going to improve. He’d started off nice, politely requesting to see Eva, and he’d been flatly ignored. As each request was met with silence, he’d escalated the pressure. That’s how they’d ended up here today. If she pushed him any more, he would start playing hardball. He didn’t want to, but he would crush her like his restaurants’ competitors.
“We can work together and play nice, or Edmund here can make things very difficult for you. As he said, it’s your choice.”
“My choice? Hardly.” She sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
The movement pressed her abundant bosom up against the neckline of her jacket, giving him a glimpse of rosy cleavage. Her blush traveled lower than he expected. It made him want to know exactly how much lower.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca jerked his gaze from Claire’s chest and met her heated stare. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, you have my hands tied. You aren’t even listening to me. How can we negotiate when you aren’t listening?”
Luca swallowed his embarrassment, covering it with the confident, unaffected mask he usually wore. It had been a long time since he’d lost his focus during business discussions, much less because of a beautiful woman. Apparently, he had been working too much and needed some companionship so he didn’t lose his edge. “And how are we to negotiate when you refuse to move from your position? You won’t listen to anything that isn’t just the way you want it.”
“That is not—”
“Claire,” her lawyer interrupted in a harsh whisper. “We need to consider what they’re offering.”
“I don’t want to consider it. This whole thing is ridiculous. We’re done here,” she said, pushing up from her seat to stand.
“That’s fine,” Luca said, sitting back in his chair. Time to turn the screws. “I think you’ll look lovely in orange.”
“Orange?” Claire asked, some of her previous fire starting to cool.
“Yes. Prison jumper orange to be exact. If the judge orders visitation and you don’t comply, you could end up in jail. That’s fine with me, really. That means I’ll get full custody of Eva.”
“Sit down, Claire,” Stuart said.
Her brave facade crumbled as she slipped back down into her chair. Finally, he’d gotten through to her. The last thing he
