‘But I would very much be failing in my duty to Ramón if I had elected to stay in Spain and ignore his baby’s existence. I found your letter, and I am aware of all that has happened. Now I am here to help alleviate some of the considerable stress and worry you must undoubtedly be under in such a difficult situation.’
‘You’re not going to take Matilde away from me, so don’t even think it!’
Stepping boldly in front of the six feet plus frame that exuded a bearing nothing less than regal—even here, in her deplorably shabby little bedsit with its threadbare floor covering and faded ancient wallpaper—Dominique was enraged at even the mere thought of such a possibility. She might only be twenty-one, but she still had rights—even if nobody else seemed to think so!
‘I think you need to calm yourself, Dominique. How can we discuss anything if you are in such a state of agitation? Perhaps we should start over again?’ The Spaniard considered her gravely for a moment, before extending his hand and letting his previously solemn mouth curve briefly into a smile. ‘It is unfortunate that our paths should only cross after such a tragic turn of events, but even so…I am very pleased to meet you, Dominique.’
Dominique warned herself not to be won over by the appearance of warmth and charm. Ramón had once told her that his rich and powerful cousin could be described as ‘dynamite in a silk glove’, and that people would do well not to be deceived by his amenable exterior and underestimate him. She remembered Ramón had sounded impressed when he’d revealed this—as though he envied his cousin’s gravitas and power. Apparently he was a man with a formidable reputation—and not just professionally. Cristiano commanded great respect and admiration from all those who knew him, and in the hallowed circle of the influential and respected his word and opinion was law.
A tiny shiver scudded down her spine as his large hand with its sprinkling of fine dark hair across the knuckles enfolded hers. His eyes were black as impenetrable caves, fringed with luxuriant sable lashes, and for a suspended moment Dominique was magnetised by them.
‘Well…’ She pulled her hand free as quickly as possible, to dispel the sense of deep disquiet that rippled through her, and took a step back. ‘All I want is to be left alone to raise my child in peace. Ramón’s family are under no obligation to help me in any way. It was my decision to have her, and I’m certainly not looking for hand-outs from his relatives!’
Her imposing visitor held up his hand as if to restore calm, the gesture conveying all the authority and command of Moses overseeing the parting of the Red Sea. His dark gaze was pensive as he focused it on Dominique. ‘Your bid for independence is admirable… but I have to tell you that there are certain things about our family that you must understand, and one of them is that we have a code of honour that must be upheld in all circumstances. Part of that code is that we take care of our own.’
Clearly Ramón had missed that memo, Dominique thought wryly. As much as she had judged Ramón for his lack of responsibility, now she could not help resenting his cousin’s presence with a vengeance. But the formidably broad shoulders encased by the superbly tailored jacket he wore over a black cashmere sweater seemed to signify an indomitable fortress that she had no hope of breaching, and she suddenly knew without a shadow of a doubt that this proud, handsome Spaniard had no intention of going quietly away and leaving her to manage Matilde on her own.
Her heart slammed up against her ribcage in alarm. ‘I told you—I don’t want anyone’s help! Least of all help from the family of a man who proved anything but honourable!’
She had sandy brown hair fashioned into one long silky plait that fell over a slender shoulder, eyes the colour and appearance of a placid blue lake on a summer’s day, and features that might easily have been the inspiration for any of the Grand Masters if she had but been born in another century.
The realisation of how young she was hit Cristiano like an iron fist. Ramón himself had only been twenty-five, but even so…Dominique Sanderson barely looked out of the schoolroom! What had his thoughtless irresponsible cousin been thinking of when he took up with such an innocent and why hadn’t he protected her from possible consequences when he had decided to seduce her?
He fielded the strong sense of outrage that unexpectedly burned inside him and mentally stored it for contemplation at a more appropriate time. Despite that, a muscle at the side of his temple continued to throb with tension. The girl presented a challenge. He knew now she was not going to be easily won over and persuaded to accept the aid that was due to her and, confessing silent surprise at that, Cristiano sensed he had a battle on his hands.
There were two well-worn tapestry-covered armchairs, one either side of a fireplace that housed an inadequate electric bar heater rather than a comforting glowing fire, and he gestured towards them. ‘Let us sit down, shall we? Now, tell me…where did you get the astonishing idea that I came to try and take the child away from you?’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘Of course not! A child belongs with her mother—unless that mother is unfit, of course—and that is where she should stay.’
‘I am a good mother!’ She sat forward in her chair suddenly, and Cristiano could tell by the way the muscles in her face were working that she was having trouble keeping back her emotions. ‘We may not live in the lap of luxury, but I work hard and do my best, and I would die rather than let my baby come to harm in any way!’
Cristiano frowned. ‘Please…do not distress yourself. Your ability as a mother is not in question. Regarding why I am here: I told your mother that as the head of the Cordova family I see it as my duty to oversee the care and protection of my cousin’s child, since he has so sadly died, and I naturally extend that care and protection to include you too, Dominique.’
‘I don’t need anybody’s care and protection! I can manage quite well on my own, thank you!’
Her huge blue eyes were suddenly bathed in tears, but Cristiano quickly realised that the reaction was born out of fury and frustration rather than self-pity.
‘My mother only wants rid of the baby…can’t you tell? She wants me to go back to university and complete my degree as if nothing has changed! She sees Matilde as an inconvenience that needs to be dealt with, and that’s why she jumped at the chance to invite you over here! I think she was really hoping that you would take Matilde away!’
‘I am very sorry to hear that. But if that is true, then it only confirms my opinion that you and your daughter would be better off returning with me to Spain than remaining here in England. If Ramón were still alive, I am certain he would come to that conclusion too, given time.’ He was not certain about that at all, but Cristiano would say anything he had to if it would help him achieve the outcome he desired.
‘I want you to know that I told him I would never make any claims on him regarding the baby. It was clear he didn’t want her right from the start, so why would I humiliate myself by pursuing some sort of recompense? Besides…having Matilde was my decision and my decision alone. Becoming a father and being responsible for another human being—even his own child—held no appeal for Ramón whatsoever.’
‘I do not doubt it!’ Cristiano returned acidly. ‘But it is a shame he did not think of that before he impregnated you!’
She blushed, and the sight of that subtle spread of pink fanning across her smooth pale cheeks, and the way her innocent unadorned mouth parted softly in surprise, caused an acute charge of electricity to explode in the pit of his stomach. It so disturbed him that for a moment Cristiano lost his train of thought.
‘It
