stared at him blankly, shock waves pounding through her. This wasn’t at all what she had expected.
‘I know this is a shock, but when you calm down and think about it rationally you’ll realize this is a sensible move. This is the best thing for Liam. He is part Italian, he has a heritage and a way of life to learn about. He has the security of a large family waiting for him—cousins, uncles, aunts, not to mention a grandfather who loves him deeply.’
Gemma didn’t know why she was allowing Marcus to continue with this conversation. It was quite frankly crazy, but she was so shocked she couldn’t find her voice to stop him.
‘Liam belongs back home in Italy.’
‘Liam’s home is here with me.’ When she finally managed to speak, her voice was so full of anger that it didn’t even sound like her.
‘I understand this is going to be a wrench for you Gemma.’
With a fierce stab of panic Gemma noticed that he spoke as if this was already a fait accompli.
‘And I know how much you love Liam. That’s why I think you and I should get together on this and sort out a compromise that will suit us all.’
‘It’s not going to be a wrench because it will never happen.’ She cut across his calm words with a fierce determination and started to pack away the bottle of lemonade and the cups, needing to get away from this situation as quickly as she could.
He watched her frantic, angry movements with a cool detachment.
‘Look, I suggest that we put our own feelings aside and concentrate on what’s best for Liam now.’
The sheer arrogance of those words made Gemma look sharply up at him. ‘I have always concentrated on what is best for Liam,’ she said furiously, her blue eyes blazing with emotion. ‘How dare you suggest otherwise?’
‘Gemma, all I’m saying—’
‘I hear what you’re saying and you are talking rubbish. You waltz in at weekends and high days and holidays and think you are God’s gift to fatherhood. Well, let me tell you that you’re not. You have no idea of the day-to-day reality of being a parent. This idea is just a passing fancy…like everything else in your life.’
She couldn’t resist the sarcastic dig. ‘And you wouldn’t last two minutes if you had Liam full time.’
‘Well, that’s where I think you are wrong. I would be more than capable of having Liam full time.’
She noticed that his voice had lost the cool, pragmatic tone and there was an edge of annoyance showing now. Good, she thought furiously. How dared he calmly arrive and tell her he intended to take her son away? ‘No judge in the land would take a baby away from his mother without extreme good cause,’ she added tersely. ‘So just go away, Marcus. Go back to your dream world and don’t bother me again.’
‘He’s not a baby, Gemma. He will be starting school in September.’
Gemma ignored the comment and continued to tidy away the chocolate wrappers from the rug.
As she reached to fasten the lid on the basket Marcus stretched out and caught hold of her wrist. The contact of his skin against hers sent a jolt of shock shooting through her as if an electric charge had passed through her body. ‘This is something we need to sort out together. If it goes to court you will regret it, Gemma.’
Although the words were softly spoken the meaning was clear. Nobody took on the might of the Rossini family and won. They had money and influence and they always got what they wanted. Gemma tried very hard not to let panic show in her eyes as she looked over at him. ‘You are not in Italy now, Marcus,’ she reminded him. ‘This is my home turf, and a court will never allow you to take Liam away from me.’
‘I don’t want to fight with you, Gemma,’ he said softly. ‘But if you insist on it, then I will use any means possible to make sure I win. If you play with fire then you must expect to be burnt.’
‘Daddy!’ Liam’s excited voice cut through the tense atmosphere and Marcus let go of her and turned as the little boy came running across the grass and flung himself into his arms.
Gemma watched the instinctive way Liam curled his arms around his father’s neck, cuddling in to him as close as he could get. ‘Daddy, will you push me on the swing? Will you? I can go really high, almost up to the sky and…’
‘Hey, steady on, partner.’ Marcus laughed. ‘Give me time to draw breath.’
‘Liam, we have to go now,’ Gemma cut in anxiously. She just wanted to be away from this situation. Her nerves couldn’t stand being around Marcus a moment longer.
‘Ah, Mum!’ Liam groaned. ‘Daddy’s only just come! Can’t he push me on the swings, can’t he, please?’
‘You can see him later.’ Gemma stood up and pretended to busy herself brushing down the folds of her long dress. ‘You’re spending tonight over at Daddy’s house. You can play on the swing in his garden.’
Marcus watched the way her long hair fell silkily over her shoulders, gleaming a rich honey gold in the sun; noticed the deep V of her sundress revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her curvaceous body.
‘Can I stay here with Daddy?’
The words caused a sharp rush of pain inside her.
‘No, you can’t.’ Gemma glanced over and met Marcus’s eyes. She imagined there was a gleam of triumph in them, a look that said, See, my son wants to be with me, not you. ‘Please stand up from the rug so I can fold it away,’ she asked him coldly.
Liam seemed set to argue some more. But, surprisingly, Marcus cut across him. ‘Do as Mummy says, Liam,’ he said, getting to his feet and lifting Liam with him so that Gemma could pack the rug away.
‘Thanks.’ Her voice was prickly.
‘We need to talk some more,’ Marcus said quietly as he watched her place the folded blanket over the top of the basket.
‘There is nothing to discuss. I’ve given you my answer.’
‘That’s not good enough.’
‘Why? Because it isn’t the answer you want?’ Gemma shrugged. ‘Well, tough, Marcus. I know you are used to getting your own way, but not this time.’
Anger glimmered in Marcus’s eyes. ‘We’ll see about that.’
The quiet way he said those words disturbed the cool veneer she had managed to wrap around herself. ‘The whole notion is ridiculous, Marcus, so just forget it.’
As her voice rose, Liam looked over at her. ‘Are you and Daddy arguing?’
‘No, darling, we’re just talking.’ Gemma held out her hand to him. ‘Come on, we have to get home. Uncle Richard said he might call.’
Marcus felt a flash of annoyance at that remark. ‘Uncle Richard’ was around at the house far too much recently for his liking.
‘We’ll talk again later in the
