that with her.”
“You’ll crush her, Cristiano.” Sam’s voice broke, her words all but inaudible. “She’s a little girl that’s lost her mother, and the man she thinks is her father. How can boarding school with Spartan dormitories be the answer?”
“The school has an impressive reputation. They’ve assured me they’ll do everything in their power to help her adjust.”
“But they don’t know Gabby, or care about her. But I do. And I know you must or you wouldn’t have worked so hard to get her back.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Hate Johann, hate me, hate our lives, the world we inhabit, the truth, the lies, but don’t play God, and you can’t say you aren’t when you’re already planning on sending her away.”
“But what are my options? I can’t leave her with you—not if I can’t trust you.”
“But you can. I’m telling you. I’m making a promise—”
“I can trust that?”
“Yes.”
He was silent, then sighed. “I wish I could believe you, but I can’t. I was lucky you came here, fortunate you brought her to Chester. I knew from the private investigator’s report that you’d been raised in Cheshire. He said if you ever ran away, you’d probably return here, but in the future you won’t come here. And then what? Where do I find Gabriela then?”
“I won’t take her away from you. I promise.”
He steeled himself against the anguish in her voice, refusing to let her needs usurp his own.
Sam still pleaded her case. “I’m an honest person, and fair, Cristiano. If I give you my word—” Her voice broke and she pressed her hands together against her chest, held them there as though her heart hurt. “I’m as straight as they come. If you take the time to get to know me, you’ll see I’m trustworthy.”
He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let the agony in her voice touch him. She was emotional now, but later she’d see that he was right. Later, when she remarried and had a family of her own, she’d be grateful he’d taken Gabriela back. “Forgive me, but you know the expression, once bitten, twice shy.”
She ducked her head but he saw the first tear fall. “Please.”
Don’t think about her, he told himself, don’t look at her. This isn’t about her. It’s about family, his family, the family that didn’t exist anymore. Gabby was all there was left. Gabby was the last Bartolo. He had to have her back. He needed her back. That was all there was to it.
“This isn’t personal,” he said after a moment as another tear fell. “And it’s not a punishment.” He softened his tone, tried to comfort her, if such a thing was possible.
It was silent for a few minutes as Sam stared out the window and he concentrated on the road. There wasn’t heavy traffic, just a few cars and trucks and they were all traveling very slow.
“You said three,” she said as he overtook a car. “You said there were three reasons.”
He glanced at her, saw the bruised softness at her mouth, the terrible sadness in her eyes and it cut him. In the beginning, maybe he had wanted to hurt her. Maybe in the beginning he’d been driven by revenge, but he didn’t know her, had thought she was one thing—a cool, impervious blonde—but that wasn’t Samantha. Beneath the beautiful blond exterior was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman—warmth, tenderness, intelligence and loyalty.
“You’re stunning,” he said bluntly. “And I wanted you for myself.”
CHAPTER SIX
HE TOOK her because he wanted her.
It was inconceivable to Sam that anyone could desire her that much. She didn’t feel desirable. Didn’t feel like a woman should feel.
And yet with him sitting so close, his large, powerful body crowding the car, she couldn’t help but be aware of him, aware of the words he’d just spoken, and the nuances still humming in the air.
The back of Sam’s neck tingled. Her stomach somersaulted. Her body felt odd all over—too sensitive, too aware. She didn’t like the feeling at all, and she didn’t want him to want her. She didn’t want anything to do with him. Not now, not ever.
Reaching into his leather coat pocket, Cristiano retrieved his phone and after pushing a couple of buttons, handed it to her.
“Call Mrs. Bishop,” he said calmly, “her number’s right there. Let her know we’re on our way to pick up Gabriela.”
In no mood to argue, and missing Gabby, Sam dialed the number and Mrs. Bishop answered. They chatted for a moment but when Sam said they were getting close to the house to pick up Gabby, Mrs. Bishop protested. “Oh dear, that’s a shame. The girls are planning a puppet show. I’m helping them with the costumes now.”
Sam felt a pang. At the Rookery she’d played with the same puppets. They were Mrs. Bishop’s, from her own childhood and she used to bring them to the orphanage on wet weekend afternoons so the children could play. “You’re not making new costumes, are you?”
“But of course. New plays need new costumes.”
Sam smiled, remembering Mrs. Bishop’s needle wizardly. Mrs. Bishop was the one who’d taught Sam to cook and sew, which had been very useful skills when Sam reached the nanny college in Manchester. “Gabby must be having a ball.”
“She is, Sam. She’s a lovely thing and the girls are having such a good time together. Do let her stay until dinner. There’s no hurry getting her home, is there?”
“Let me speak with Gabby then.”
Gabby howled when she took the phone from Mrs. Bishop. “You can’t pick me up now! We’ve made up our own play. It’s our own story and we’re making costumes and everything!”
“But you’ve been there for hours, Gabriela.”
“But I don’t want to go! We made cookies and had a tea party and Mrs. Bishop is helping us with the puppets. They have a puppet stage with red velvet curtains and we’re going to do our play in it.”
Sam glanced at Cristiano, covered the phone’s mouthpiece. “Gabby wants to stay and play longer. They’re going to have a puppet show.”
“She’s doing well, then?”
“Yes. She’s having a great time.”
“Then let her stay until later this afternoon. I can pick her up before dinner.”
Sam told Gabby and then Mrs. Bishop what Cristiano had said, and then, call finished, Sam hung up and handed the phone back to Cristiano.
“I’m glad she’s having fun. Except for school, she doesn’t get to play with other children all that often,” Sam said, although on the inside she felt torn. She was glad Gabby was having fun but for Sam it was awkward and uncomfortable being alone with Cristiano. “Johann wouldn’t let her go to other people’s houses, and her friends from school weren’t allowed to come home.”
“Why?”
