The Sicilian's Bought Bride. Carol Marinelli. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carol Marinelli
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408939642
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alive she’s already had to get to know five nannies, so I’m sure a nurse feeding her in the middle of the night isn’t going to send her into a frenzy. Your sister made quite sure Lily got used to strangers.’

      Your sister. He had spat the words at her accusingly but Catherine refused to rise.

      ‘I want to be with her,’ Catherine stated calmly. ‘If you want to go to a hotel—fine. But I’m not leaving.’ Picking up her bag, she headed for the door, but the slow handclap resounding from Rico stilled her. Tossing her head, she turned to face him, her eyes questioning.

      ‘Bravo,’ he sneered. ‘If I didn’t know you better you’d almost pass for a grief-stricken aunty.’

      ‘I just want to do the right thing by Lily,’ Catherine responded, utterly bemused, with no idea where this was leading.

      ‘Of course you do!’ She heard the sarcasm dripping in his voice, but it merely confused her. ‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all that.’

      ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Whatever Rico’s problem was she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to do this now. She was exhausted, physically and mentally exhausted, and even though she’d only been promised a roller bed by Lily’s cot the thought of stretching out, of closing her eyes on this vile day, was the only thing keeping her standing. ‘I’ll speak to you in the morning.’

      ‘You’ll speak to me tonight.’ His voice stayed low but there was a menacing note that had the hairs rising on the back of her neck. ‘You’ll tell me everything that’s happened.’

      ‘I’ve already told you,’ Catherine responded hotly. ‘What the hell does it matter how it happened, Rico? They’re dead, and going over and over it doesn’t change anything.’

      ‘Oh, but it does.’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘The fact they’re dead changes everything. Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to social workers, Catherine? Why did you omit to mention that you’ve told them you are taking Lily home with you when she’s discharged? That you are applying for guardianship?’

      Her mind was working nineteen to the dozen now, realisation dawning as his savage eyes met hers, as she registered just how low he thought she was prepared to stoop.

      ‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ she insisted. ‘It wasn’t like that. The hospital needed a name, a next of kin, someone to sign a consent form if Lily needed an operation.’

      ‘And you were only too happy to provide it.’

      ‘Of course I was,’ Catherine responded hotly. ‘As much as you mightn’t like it, Rico, as much as you might want to wipe me out of your life, I have as much right to be here as you. I am Lily’s aunt just as you are her uncle, and given the fact that her parents have just been killed it makes us her next of kin. I had every right to sign that form and I resent the implication that I had some sort of ulterior motive. She’s seems okay now, but we didn’t know. She has bruises from the car seat and the doctors thought there could be some internal damage. You weren’t here, Rico! What was I supposed to do? Refuse to sign?’

      ‘Okay,’ he conceded reluctantly. ‘But you told them you are taking Lily home with you when she’s discharged, told them you are prepared to look after her…’

      ‘And I am,’ Catherine wailed, her patience flying out of the window as she faced this impossible, mistrusting man. ‘She’s my niece and I want to look after her—in the short term at least.’

      ‘That’s not what you said to the social workers.’

      ‘Oh, come on, Rico. Janey died this afternoon. I can barely comprehend what’s happened, let alone make long-term plans! As if I know what I’m going to do.’

      ‘Don’t lie,’ he spat. ‘Poor little Lily. I can just see you laying it on with a trowel to the social workers. I can almost hear the little sob in your voice as you said it!’ His eyes narrowed, his lips contorting as he eyed her distastefully. ‘Only she’s not so poor, is she? As of this evening, Lily’s incredibly rich. You must have been rubbing your hands in glee when the bloody Mancinis couldn’t even be bothered to make it to the hospital—rubbing your hands in glee when no one was there to stop you when you said you’d take care of her.’

      ‘It wasn’t like that!’ It was Catherine’s voice rising now. ‘How dare you? How dare you accuse me of trying to profit from my sister’s death? How dare you suggest I would use my niece as a pawn? Why would I—’

      ‘I’ll tell you why.’ His voice was low, a contrast to hers, his eyes forbidding as they stared back at her coldly. ‘Because you hate your life, Catherine. Because you’d go to any lengths to change it.’

      ‘You’re disgusting.’ Pulling her arms away, she attempted to wrestle it from his hand, but his grip only tightened. ‘Let go of me, Rico. I’m going to my niece.’

      ‘Over my dead body.’ His face was as white as marble in the fluorescent light, his cheeks jagged, his lips set in grim determination. ‘You’re coming back to the hotel with me, Catherine. Tonight we talk.’

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