need your phone number,’ Zara told him. ‘I’ll ring you later to see how you’re getting on.’
If ever there was a moment when an unprecedented attack of benevolence on his part had paid off this was it, Vitale recognised with fearless self-honesty. Ironically the mother of his unborn child was more concerned about her pet than about herself, but an avenue of communication had at least opened again. He was going to be a father. The shock of that thought suddenly engulfed Vitale like an avalanche. A baby, he was thinking in a daze of lingering horror as he installed Fluffy in her three deck condo in the corner of his open plan lounge. The brightly coloured plastic rabbit version of a palace with all mod cons looked incongruous against his elegant décor.
On learning that the rabbit was there to stay for the foreseeable future, Vitale’s part-time housekeeper told him thinly that she was allergic to animal fur, and when he failed to offer an immediate solution she handed in her notice on the spot. Zara phoned briefly just to tell Vitale that Fluffy liked MTV for company, apparently being a bunny with a musical bent.
‘Tough luck, Fluff,’ Vitale breathed, switching on the business channel to catch the most recent stock figures. ‘The guy with the remote calls all the shots.’
Fluffy sidled into view like a bunny with a very good idea of how welcome a house guest she was. She slunk along the skirting and then settled down happily to munch at the corner of a very expensive rug. As Vitale rose to intervene and Fluffy took fright at the movement and fled back to her condo it occurred to him that a young child would, at times, be equally trying to his reserves of patience.
That was, if Zara Blake allowed him anywhere near their child. His blood ran cold with apprehension as he pictured that possible scenario of parental powerlessness. He cursed the situation he was in. He had several good friends supporting children they rarely, if ever, saw. He knew that a child’s mother generally controlled how much access a father might receive and he was well aware that some mothers preferred not to share. As an unmarried father he would have virtually no rights at all over his own flesh and blood. Vitale had been the son of an unstable mother and the defenceless victim of an abusive stepfather. That he might have little say in his own child’s upbringing was a prospect that Vitale could not bear to contemplate. How would he ever be able to protect his child from the risk of abuse? His appetite for work suddenly abating, Vitale shut down his laptop. He fed Fluffy, who had the fine taste of a gourmand, and then he paced the floor to consider his options with a new driving urgency.
In the meantime, Zara was having a very busy day. She spent an hour chatting to a potential client before checking out the current job that Blooming Perfect was engaged in and finally returning to the firm’s office to finish a plan.
‘It really is quite something,’ Rob remarked when he saw the plan she had completed for the villa in Italy.
Zara smiled as she rolled it up and slotted it into a protective cardboard tube. ‘Well, we’ll see.’
‘When will the client get it?’
‘This week. He’s staying in London.’
‘Convenient,’ Rob commented, already engaged in closing up for the night.
Only as she drove back to her new apartment and struggled to find a parking spot was Zara at long last free to think of the tiny seed of life growing inside her. A baby, her baby. She could still hardly believe it was true and could not suppress a sense of wonderment over the conception that embarrassed her. After all, she could hardly celebrate falling pregnant by a man with whom she no longer had a relationship. That was very bad news for her child. Or was it? Thinking about her own father, Zara was not sure that she had ever enjoyed a single advantage from his presence in her life and he was a fearsome man in a temper. On the other hand she had friends who adored their fathers and found them very supportive and good at giving advice, she conceded fairly.
Her unplanned pregnancy would also give her parents yet another reason to criticise her, although they would have fewer grounds than most to complain, because Zara and her brother had been eight years old before their parents even moved in together. Certainly her father had been in no hurry to commit to the mother of his twins. Indeed even at that point Monty Blake must already have been involved with her sister Tawny’s mother.
But Zara was not like either of her parents and she told herself that there was no reason why she shouldn’t make a good single mother. As she had no trust fund to fall back on she was lucky to have Edith’s business to help her survive on the financial front. She was strong and sensible. In a crisis she would bend, not break, and she was willing to make the best of things. So, she had been more than a little foolish over Vitale? She just had to learn to live with that as he was no doubt learning to live with Fluffy. The serious expression on Zara’s face slid away and she almost smiled at that incongruous image. Now that offer of his to look after her pet had come as an enormous surprise. But then Vitale was deep, so deep and complex that she couldn’t fathom him and she quite understood how she had been taken in by him. Vitale did not wear his true and tricky nature on the surface.
As she was wondering what to make for her evening meal her cell phone beeped with a text.
Join me for dinner? I’ll cook. V
No, absolutely not, Zara thought in dismay and annoyance. What was he playing at? And then a more responsible inner voice reminded her that she was set to have a relationship with Vitale through her child that would stretch quite a few years into her future. Ignoring him, refusing to see him or speak to him might be tempting, but it would not be the sensible path to follow. Sadly, on one issue Vitale was correct. Her pregnancy did mean that everything had changed, although her feelings towards him hadn’t changed in the slightest: she still hated him like poison. Bolstered by that conviction, Zara texted back her agreement. After all, meeting up with Vitale would also provide her with an easy way of delivering the plan for the grounds of the Italian villa.
FLUFFY was watching television on the leather sofa when Vitale returned to his apartment that evening. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes: the wretched bunny was watching music videos while basking in the comfort of a well-upholstered seat! But no sooner did Zara’s pet hear the noise of the front door closing than it raced like a furry streak for the safety of its home in the corner. And there, in spite of the food Vitale brought it, the rabbit stayed firmly out of sight.
But Fluffy had not spent an entirely lazy day, Vitale noted grimly, because the rug had been chewed and the wooden foot of a coffee table had been gnawed. It was a destructive bunny rabbit, utterly unsuited to civilised life in a luxury apartment. On the other hand, Zara had agreed to come to dinner, most probably because she wanted to see how her pet was doing.
The plan for the villa tucked below one arm, Zara arrived sporting an ice-blue dress teamed with incredibly high heels. The pale shade accentuated her eyes and her hair shimmered round her shoulders. For the first time ever Vitale admired a woman’s legs and then, quite unnervingly for him, thought of her safety instead. What if she stumbled and fell and got hurt?
‘Those shoes are like stilts,’ he remarked before he could think better of the comment, only to watch in amazement as Fluffy bounded out into the hall to greet her mistress and gambol round her feet in a welcoming display.
Zara petted Fluffy and talked to her. Anything was better than focusing on Vitale, breathtakingly handsome even casually clad in jeans and an open-necked black shirt. She decided that she was horrendously overdressed and felt as though she
