features as they began descending the stairs. ‘There is a solution.’
Something took hold of her emotions and turned them upside down. ‘Such as?’ She paused as they reached the spacious foyer.
‘Stay.’
Shannay closed her eyes, then opened them again. ‘With you? I don’t think so.’
‘It’s a large house. You would have an enviable lifestyle. And never need to be parted from Nicki,’ he added.
Shannay was suddenly icily calm. ‘Define enviable?’
‘An unlimited expense account. Jewellery. Any vehicle you care to name. A personal bodyguard. Everything the wife of a very wealthy man can provide.’
She wanted to hit him. ‘You think I care about a collection of designer gowns, the Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos, jewellery?’ She paused for breath. ‘Attending the opera, the theatre, charity fundraisers in all their various guises, glittering first nights, that parties are my ultimate choice in entertainment?’ She was filled with pent-up anger, and unable to prevent it from spilling over. ‘Live in this mansion, give my time to charity committees and become the exemplary wife in and out of the bedroom? You think any of that is important to me?’
Marcello regarded her with a degree of amusement. ‘Not even the bedroom?’
‘No.’ And knew she lied.
His voice became dangerously soft. ‘Then, perhaps you’d care to elaborate?’
She tilted her chin a little and seared his dark eyes with her own. If only it were possible to turn back the clock, to recapture the love they’d once shared. Except that didn’t form part of any equation she could envisage.
‘You think you can buy whatever you want. Everything has a price. Even me. You’re so wrong!’ Her eyes assumed a molten hue.
‘As to your suggestion …’ She was almost beyond words. ‘Forget it!’
She took a deep breath to help control her rising disbelief. ‘Not even for Nicki’s sake will I be trapped in a loveless marriage,’ she added with pent-up vehemence.
An eyebrow rose in mocking silence at her lack of hesitation.
‘You broke my heart once.’ Any hope it had healed went out the window the moment she heard his voice and saw his image on video camera as he stood in the entrance bay of her apartment building just a few weeks ago. ‘No way will I give you the chance to do it again.’
‘I see I didn’t make myself clear,’ Marcello drawled. ‘We not only share the same roof, we occupy the same room, the same bed.’
‘Let me get this right. You’re offering sex as a bonus?’
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw. ‘A normal marriage. The possibility of adding to our family.’
‘Forgive me.’ She was on a roll, and like a runaway train she couldn’t stop. ‘I’ve experienced your version of normal, and I hated the way it worked out.’
‘And nothing I say will convince you otherwise?’
Shannay drew herself up to her full height and glared at him with a look that would have seared a lesser man to a crisp. ‘No.’ With that she turned on her heel and began retracing her steps.
The thought of sitting opposite him calmly forking food into her mouth didn’t appeal. Besides, she wasn’t hungry.
Instead, she’d retrieve a book, go settle somewhere and read.
It would have been a good plan if she’d been able to concentrate on the written word.
After a while she tossed the book aside and turned on the television, only to channel-hop in a bid to find something of interest.
A cooking programme looked good, although it only served to remind her that she’d deliberately missed dinner.
OK, so admit you’re mad at him.
To think of agreeing to his so-called proposal is an insult.
It hadn’t been his wealth and position that had attracted her to him in the first place. Dammit, she hadn’t even known who he was!
The next few weeks couldn’t pass quickly enough, then she’d return home with Nicki and resume an ordinary life.
She must have slept, for she came sharply awake at the sound of a child’s cry, followed by a heart-wrenching sobbing.
Ohmigod … Nicki.
Shannay raced through the connecting en suite to find Nicki sitting up in bed drenched in tears, and she scooped her onto her lap and held her close.
‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
The words had barely emerged from her mouth when Marcello entered the room, crossed to her side and queried quietly,
‘A bad dream?’
Concern shadowed her features. ‘She’s never woken like this before.’ She pressed a cheek to Nicki’s temple. ‘Tell Mummy, darling.’
Gradually the sobs reduced to intermittent hiccups, and Shannay was hardly aware of Marcello’s absence until he pressed a damp face-washer into her hand, which she proceeded to use.
‘There,’ she murmured gently. ‘That’s better.’
Marcello hunkered down and took hold of his daughter’s hand, only to mask his feelings as Nicki looked at him with large sorrow-filled eyes.
‘I don’t want Bisabuelo Ramon to die like Fred.’
He spared Shannay a quick, enquiring glance, then smoothed a hand over Nicki’s head on hearing the brief explanation. ‘Sometimes when people and animals are very very sick and medicine can no longer help them get better, they go to a special place where they’re no longer in pain.’
‘Like Fred.’
His smile held gentle warmth. ‘Yes, just like Fred,’ he agreed softly.
‘I talked to Fred all the time when he was sick.’
‘As you do when we visit Ramon, si?’
An earnest look entered her childish features and pierced his heart. ‘Can we see him tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’
‘Every day?’
‘Every day, I promise.’
‘I like him a lot.’
‘And he loves you very much.’
Nicki turned her head and looked at her mother. ‘I think I’ll go back to sleep now.’
The simplistic logic of children, Shannay perceived as
