home. ‘For the moment,’ he added ominously, looking deeply into her troubled eyes.
Megan ignored it and as they approached the house one of the pair of carved oak doors opened and a dark-suited, white-haired man appeared.
‘William, meet my wife, Megan,’ said Luigi with a smile. ‘And Charlotte, my daughter.’
The man inclined his head. ‘Megan, Charlotte,’ he acknowledged gravely. ‘Shall I show them to their rooms, sir?’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Luigi. ‘Tell Cook we’re here and we’d like tea in the drawing room.’
Megan was dumbstruck. This was a rags to riches tale in one giant leap. She’d always known he had excellent entrepreneurial skills, but for him to be able to buy Gerards, as well as a house like this in such a short space of time was beyond her comprehension. How had he done it?
And she couldn’t help wondering what else he had in mind. A top ranking football club? A luxurious yacht? Exotic holiday homes? It seemed as though the world was his oyster these days. Perhaps he even had these things. But she wasn’t disgruntled that she’d missed out because she knew that he would have worked all the hours God gave to get where he was, and that wasn’t the sort of lifestyle she wanted.
She and Charlotte were content in their little house, there was always a sense of satisfaction when she paid her bills and cooked and cleaned and provided a happy, carefree environment for her daughter. She wouldn’t like to live here, not permanently. It wasn’t a home; it was a showpiece.
There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere in the enormous entrance hall, or the shallow, wide staircase they were now ascending. Nothing was out of place. Urns of flowers spilled their heady perfume into the air, while marble statues stood in alcoves and paintings by old masters adorned the walls.
They followed Luigi through long corridors, finally coming to a halt at a suite of rooms, which she presumed to be in one of the wings. He pushed the door open and Megan walked into a blue carpeted room with a four-poster bed draped in matching blue and two armchairs near the window upholstered in cream damask. The curtains at the tall windows were in a cream and blue fabric. It was all very elegant but not her style and Megan felt a faint shudder run through her.
Luigi appeared to be waiting for her to say something, but when she didn’t he opened an adjoining door, revealing a further bedroom filled with every imaginable toy possible. Charlotte’s eyes widened and she ran inside. ‘Are these for me?’ she asked in wonderment.
‘It’s your room,’ he told her, ‘for as long as you want it.’
‘How dare you do this to her,’ hissed Megan accusingly as soon as Charlotte had disappeared inside. ‘It’s nothing short of blackmail. I’ve not changed my mind. When Christmas is over we’re out of here.’
Luigi’s lips curved upwards in a knowing smile. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Meaning over his dead body. Well, that was what she’d do, kill him if necessary. Actually she wouldn’t do anything so drastic, but there had to be a way to make him change his mind.
‘I’m serious, Luigi,’ she told him coldly.
‘And I’m serious about you moving back in with me. There’s nothing to stop you.’
‘Except that I don’t love you any more.’
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Is there someone else?’
‘There could be.’ Why should she tell him that there’d been no one since the day she’d walked out on him? He didn’t deserve to know anything.
‘Tell me, is there?’ he demanded angrily, and he took her by the shoulders and almost shook her. ‘Because if there is,’ he warned, ‘I’m taking Charlotte from you. I won’t allow another man to bring up my child.’
Megan was shocked by the ferocity of his tone. ‘You’re in no position to do anything, so take your hands off me. What I do with my private life is no longer any concern of yours. Charlotte is being well looked after and that’s all that need concern you.’
He let out a whoosh of angry air. ‘Charlotte needs her father, her biological father. If you’re not happy with that then get out. But Charlotte stays.’
Megan couldn’t believe he was saying this. A flash of red fury filled her eyes and she lashed out with both fists, raining them on his chest, battering him until she ran out of energy. In response he wrapped his strong arms about her and held her close.
Amazingly Megan felt a stirring of her senses. Lord, this was the last thing she wanted. It had to be anger, a turbulent rage flooding every nerve and tissue. It couldn’t be anything else. Could it?
She wrenched away and glared furiously. ‘You’re a swine, Luigi Costanzo. I can’t believe I let myself be bullied into coming here.’
‘Bullied?’ he challenged. ‘Ask your daughter if she was bullied. She’s been deprived, that’s what. Why else would she ask for a daddy for Christmas? It’s appalling what you’ve done to her, and I intend to make up for the missing years, have no fear about that.’
A cold chill stole through Megan’s veins. ‘Is that a threat?’ she demanded, standing very straight and rigid and glaring at him through stony eyes.
‘If you care to take it that way.’
‘What exactly are you saying?’
‘That even if you don’t want to stay I’m keeping Charlotte.’
This was what she had feared, and the very thought filled her with a dread so deep that the air around her thickened until she found it difficult to breathe. She dragged in huge painful gulps of air. He was serious, and he had the clout to do it. And, unfortunately, it left her with no alternative but to move in with him herself.
But she wouldn’t let him know yet that he had her over a barrel. She would fight him every inch of the way. Once Christmas was over, when he’d discovered how much of his time a young child demanded, he might change his mind. Megan felt sure that he had no real comprehension of what it was like to bring up a young, extremely active daughter.
‘Bold words, Luigi.’
‘I mean them.’
‘And have you perhaps thought about Charlotte? She might not want to stay here. It’s not exactly what I’d call a homely place.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t like it?’
Megan shrugged. ‘It’s imposing, I’ll admit that. But it’s a statement. It says, look at my lifestyle, look how wealthy I am. It doesn’t say that you’re happy or comfortable.’
‘I don’t have time to be comfortable.’
‘Precisely. And that is what your daughter would require. Time. Your time! How would you give her that when you’re busy making your millions?’
‘It could be arranged.’
‘Arranged,’ sneered Megan. ‘You make it sound like a business proposition. It wouldn’t work, Luigi, and you know it. When Charlotte said she wanted
