known her by that other name because such an astonishing claim raised questions about her past she could not yet bring herself to ask. ‘Why on earth did you bring me here?’
‘You needed time out.’
With a sudden start of dismay, Faith checked her watch. It was almost one. She began to scramble off the bed with alacrity. ‘I need to pick up Connor—’
‘Call Mrs Jennings. You should eat before you get back behind a steering wheel.’
Mrs Jennings? What an odd way to refer to her mother! Struggling to regain her equilibrium, Faith was even more disconcerted by the untidy cascade of hair now falling round her face. The clasp must have fallen off while she slept. Thrusting the waving mass back behind one small ear, she frowned in Gianni’s general direction. ‘Eat? I have to pick up Connor—’
He extended a mobile phone to her. ‘Ask Mrs Jennings to do it today. We need to talk.’
‘No, I—’
‘You can’t run away from this.’
You can’t run away from this. That blunt statement unnerved her. Her lower lip trembled, and then firmed. She twisted her golden head away and snatched in a shuddering breath. Once again Gianni D’Angelo had seen right through her. Her parents and Edward had always been content to accept what they saw on the surface.
And how was her fiancé likely to react to the sudden appearance of Connor’s natural father? Badly—probably very badly, Faith acknowledged dully. Edward was a very conservative man. And he had once admitted that the very fact he was the only man involved in Connor’s life had made it easier for him to accept her son.
The mobile phone was pressed into her tense fingers.
‘You think you can just tell me what to do—’ she began accusingly.
‘Right now, you’d seize on any excuse to walk out of here again!’
Reddening at the accuracy of that stab, Faith turned back reluctantly to look at Gianni D’Angelo.
And, like a slap in the face, she saw all the cool control she craved etched into the arrogant angle of his dark head and the steadiness of his burnished dark gaze. He had complete dominion over himself.
‘When you’ve made your call, we’ll have lunch.’
Her teeth ground together. She couldn’t hold back her hostility any longer. ‘I really don’t like you.’
Gianni stilled with one brown hand on the door. ‘I know… The Sleeping Beauty woke up to a kiss—’
‘She also woke up to a prince!’ Faith heard herself interrupt, and then she stiffened, disturbed by the speed of her own retaliation. She never argued with anybody. She was far better known as a peacemaker.
‘If I’d kissed you, you might have screamed assault…although possibly that’s only what you’d prefer me to believe.’ Gianni surveyed her, a sardonic slant to his expressive mouth. ‘I think your body remembers me better than your brain does.’
Faith was aghast at that suggestion. ‘How dare you?’
Gianni gave an exaggerated wince. ‘Tell me, how do you square the outraged prudish virgin act with the reality that you’re a single mother?’
Beneath his coolly enquiring gaze, Faith’s soft mouth opened and closed again. Colour flooded her complexion.
‘When something irritates the hell out of me, I usually mention it,’ Gianni shared, before he turned on his heel and left her alone.
In his wake, a combustible mix of anger and chagrin engulfed Faith. She punched out her home phone number with a stabbing finger. Her mother answered.
‘It’s Faith. I’m sorry, but I won’t be home for lunch…and I hate to ask you at such short notice but could you pick up Connor from nursery for me?’ Faith asked tautly.
‘Of course I can, darling,’ Davina Jennings responded instantly. ‘You sound flustered. Is the shop very busy or is Louise away? Never mind. I’d better get a move on if I’m to collect my grandson and still have lunch ready for your father!’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Faith laid down the mobile. As she did so she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Outraged virgin? Her cheeks burned afresh. Was that really how she came across?
During her convalescence her mother had warned her that she had a reputation to rebuild, that folk would be quick to pass final judgement on an unmarried mother. Already the target of considerable local curiosity, Faith had been painfully aware of her parents’ concern about how she might behave. Her parents were very private people, but they were pillars of both church and community. So Faith had followed her mother’s guidance when it came to her wardrobe and had worked hard at cultivating an acceptably low profile.
Distractedly, Faith lifted one of the silver brushes on the dresser to try and tidy her hair as she couldn’t find her clasp anywhere. There had been nothing prudish about that blonde in the bath…and, whether she liked it or not, that blonde had been her! Yet she still found that so hugely hard to accept. It was like the sudden discovery of an identical twin, who was her exact opposite in personality and behaviour.
After all, in three long years Faith had never had the slightest urge to go to bed with anybody! Quite a few men had asked her out. Unfortunately most had had definite expectations of how the evening should end. Repulsed by those pushy advances, Faith had come to believe that she had a pretty low sex drive, and had occasionally marvelled at Connor’s very existence.
Edward had been a family friend long before they had started seeing each other, and she had been grateful that he seemed so ideally suited to her. Her fiancé was neither physically demonstrative nor sexually demanding. He had informed her that he preferred to save intimacy for marriage. He had even told her that he would respect her more on those terms, particularly when she had made what he called ‘a youthful mistake’. When it had dawned on her that the ‘mistake’ Edward was referring to was Connor, she had been mortified and hurt.
When Faith walked back into the beautifully furnished reception room next door, she saw a waiter standing by a trolley in the elegant dining area. Gianni was poised by the window. He watched her approach with unfathomable eyes. Her tummy flipped and her breathing quickened.
‘Let’s eat,’ he suggested smoothly.
She was surprised to discover how hungry she was, and was grateful for the restraining presence of the waiter. Gianni embarked on an impersonal conversation. He questioned her about local businesses and the recent bankruptcies on the industrial estate. His razor-sharp intellect swiftly outran the depths of her economic knowledge. Where another man might have centred his interest on local history, or the sights to be seen, Gianni functioned on an entirely different level.
Involuntarily, Faith was fascinated. In the midst of her nightmare, Gianni D’Angelo could behave as if nothing remotely abnormal was happening. It was intimidating proof of a very resourceful and clever male in absolute control of a difficult situation.
When the waiter departed after serving them, Faith tensed up again. Gianni surveyed her with slumbrous dark golden eyes and her throat tightened, her heartbeat speeding up.
‘Now
