was something more important to consider. Carlo. She had no doubt that Dante would carry out all his threats. It seemed she had no choice.
‘If—if—I should agree to your disgusting plan,’ she croaked, ‘then I’d want your guarantee that you won’t touch me.’
How odd. Immediately after she’d made this stipulation she felt miserable…empty, at the thought of never reconciling with Dante. After all, she’d never be able to trust him again. Or to respect him. She sighed. Bodies were odd things—totally at odds with one’s brain.
Dante’s intake of breath broke the spell and he seemed to withdraw into himself, his head lifting proudly.
‘I would rather kiss a cockroach,’ he drawled.
She flinched at his vile insult. ‘The feeling’s mutual.’ Or it would be, once she’d got over him. ‘Let’s get something straight,’ she said with dignity. ‘I was ill when you abandoned me that night. I could have been seriously ill for all you knew. In fact it took days before I felt better. Not only did you take our son away—although I’d looked after him devotedly—’
‘That’s debatable—’
‘Devotedly!’ she emphasized. ‘But you scuttled away and secreted yourself away somewhere, too afraid to face me. Those are the actions of a heartless, callous man. Someone who is an abject coward, Dante! And to think I once believed you were hero material! Huh!’ she scorned. ‘I despise you. How could I possibly be polite to you when I feel hatred and loathing and contempt for you?’
His shoulders hooked up in a shrug but she could see from the tautness of his mouth that her words had struck home.
‘You must realise that I had to remove Carlo from you,’ he said in a choked tone, his eyes lowered so that she could not see if they were pained. ‘I had to give him a chance to be without you and your malign influence. I didn’t like doing it—and I don’t like doing this, Miranda. But for his sake, I must. Maybe I can wean him from you. I don’t know. But as sure as hell, you will never be alone with him!’
So he’d make her play his game of happy families—and then get rid of her! No way.
And yet he’d acted in good faith. He’d thought he was doing the right thing where Carlo was concerned. That did alter her opinion of him a little. And so she tried another tack, giving him a chance to salvage his pride and admit he’d been wrong to think he could bring up Carlo.
‘Dante. I realise this must be hard for you,’ she began more evenly.
‘Hard? That is an understatement,’ he muttered, his gaze fixed grimly on his glove-soft shoes.
‘For the moment, we can’t agree about what happened that evening,’ she went on, trying to stay level-headed. His suggestion was unworkable. He must see that. ‘But we can agree about one thing: Carlo’s best interests. You love him. And you know in your heart of hearts that he’ll be happier with me in England—’
‘Until you neglect him again and then he’ll be miserable!’ Dante exploded. ‘I can’t let you have him! I’d never sleep. I’d go out of my mind with worry!’
His anguish was genuine. He really cared about Carlo and, because he believed she’d been selfish and promiscuous while he was on business trips, he was trying to protect his son. That was laudable—if misguided. Carlo didn’t need protecting from her.
‘I promise you—’ she began fervently.
‘No! I will not risk my son’s happiness on the promise of a woman I don’t trust and who has deceived me all down the line! That is my final word!’ Dante snapped.
He was convinced that he was justified in his actions. Like her, he would die for their child. Dante would not waver in his determination, she knew him too well.
They were going round in circles. Wearily she passed a hand over her aching head. Lack of sleep and food, the constant tension as she had hunted for Dante in his commercial outlets around Europe, had taken their toll. She was close to giving in. It would be easier than this constant fighting…
‘Let’s explore your suggestion. Supposing I agreed,’ she said, her voice shaking with exhaustion. ‘What is your intention? That I would live here, in a room of my own?’
‘Not exactly. You would have your own apartments but you would reach them from my suite of rooms to avert scandal and gossip. The young woman I have in mind for your personal maid is a distant cousin. She can be trusted not to divulge any secrets of our sleeping arrangements. You would, in effect, be alone. And let me say that if you are tempted to try your luck with me, you’ll find a padlock the size of a dinner plate on my side of the door,’ he added scathingly.
She flushed. ‘I’m relieved to hear that. We can both stick to kissing cockroaches! One more thing. If I did come to stay, I would want to earn my own living,’ she stipulated. ‘As a secretary,’ she added, seeing where his vile mind was heading.
He looked down his nose at her. ‘The wife of a count does not work.’
‘A count!’ she exclaimed. ‘My, my, we have come up in the world. I wouldn’t stand a chance if I took you to court, would I?’
‘Not a hope.’
She stared at him, suddenly crushed by his loathing and the prospect of living a lie.
‘I couldn’t do it!’ she whispered.
‘Not for Carlo? Then do it for the life of luxury,’ he said coldly. ‘You will have a generous allowance and a credit card, the bills for which I will pay. I will make provision for you in my will, in the event of my death. On the condition that—’
‘I behave like a nun.’
He bowed his head in acknowledgement. ‘A woman of impeccable morality will do.’
All of a sudden she wanted to be free of him. Of his overwhelming presence, his suffocating dominance. The occasional drifts of vanilla fragrance she recognised which clung discreetly to his body, and which she had once inhaled with joyous delight as her mouth had explored every inch of him. All this was clouding her senses, making her head whirl.
‘I’d be mad to agree! You would have a terrible hold over me,’ she muttered. ‘You could manipulate everything I did—’
‘Forget what’s gone between us. Think of our son. All I want is for him to feel secure and happy.’ He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, looking worried. ‘If you love him, as you say you do, then surely you want that too? You see, Miranda, I will never let him go. He belongs here. This is his heritage, his right. A glorious future. Would you deny him that?’
‘He needs to be loved more than he needs material wealth—’ she began shakily.
‘He will be loved!’ Dante snapped.
‘In a coldly polite atmosphere that will surround his parents?’
He folded his arms, his eyes blazing at the prospect of being thwarted.
‘If you come here, I am sure we would both do our utmost to put the past behind us and make the best of this
