‘Nor, I imagine,’ Dante drawled, ‘was it Leon and Casey’s desire to leave this earth at such a young age.’ His eyes speared her own. ‘But fate has chosen otherwise.’
She subjected him to an encompassing appraisal, noting his broad-boned facial features, startling dark eyes, the generous mouth…the wide shoulders beneath superb tailoring, his tall, lithe frame whose height surpassed her own by several inches.
He looked precisely the man he’d become…powerful, ruthless. Lethal. Not someone with whom to tangle.
Yet she’d seen him in a lighter mood, caught his smile, witnessed his warmth with Casey…the affectionate camaraderie he’d shared with Leon. His gentleness with Ben.
There had been a time when she’d felt at ease in his company and wondered if something more might develop between them, had it not been for an assault by an intruder a year after Ben’s birth that had left her both physically and emotionally scarred…something which resulted in her avoiding a relationship with any man, especially a man as vital as Dante.
‘You travel extensively,’ Taylor pursued. ‘How can you tuck him into bed each night and read him a bedtime story,’ she protested, ‘or be there to listen to his dreams and fears, hug him when he’s sad and share his laughter?’ She was on a roll, passionate in her concern and despairing of finding a solution to the adequate care of her dearly loved nephew.
‘An alternative is for Ben to reside several months with you,’ Dante offered, ‘followed by equal time with me.’
The green flecks in her hazel eyes became more evident, and reminded Dante of the lush green foliage protecting the succulent grapes ripening in his Tuscan vineyard.
‘How will uprooting him every few months provide him with any stability?’ Taylor queried with agonised disbelief. ‘He’s just a little boy.’
‘Who will receive the devoted adoration of his grandmother, and the care of a highly qualified nanny,’ Dante informed with calm patience, and saw the pulse at the base of her throat quicken in agitation. ‘I’m prepared to offer you open visitation rights, together with an allexpenses-paid trip to Florence,’ he continued, ‘including accommodation while Ben is in my care, to ensure your satisfaction he is happily ensconced in his new environment.’
Dante’s voice held a subtle silkiness which she appeared to ignore, and he wondered if she knew the full extent of his power.
He regarded her carefully. ‘Consideration for Ben’s education must be addressed.’ He paused fractionally, then offered, ‘There is the option of a reputable boarding school.’
‘No,’ Taylor refuted swiftly.
There was a tense silence, one the lawyer attempted to breach with a placating spread of his hands, which Dante chose to ignore as Taylor fixed him with an appealing look.
‘Is it of no consequence that I’ve had constant contact with Ben since he was born, and love him as much as if he were my own?’
Dante leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘If this is so, I take it you’re prepared to do anything to ensure his comfort, his happiness?’
He reminded her of a jungle cat, all lithe power and the ever-present threat of the moment he would strike.
‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation.
Dante subjected her to an unwavering scrutiny. ‘Given neither of us will agree to sole custody with open visitation rights, do you have a sensible suggestion to offer?’
Hadn’t she worried herself sick trying to come up with sensible…and failed miserably?
‘Whatever decision we make has to benefit Ben.’
‘On that we agree,’ Dante revealed quietly as he shifted his attention to the lawyer. ‘The wills cite shared custody. Is this correct?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And is it not true that equal and share, in legal terminology, do not have the same meaning?’
A faint frown creased the lawyer’s forehead. ‘Not precisely.’
‘In which case, it could be argued as a literal interpretation?’ Dante sensed the sudden stillness in Taylor’s body language.
‘Where are you going with this?’
He shifted his attention and caught the edge of suspicion sharpening her eyes. ‘We’ve explored the available options, and failed to agree on any one of them.’ He didn’t give her time to offer so much as a word as he pursued, ‘I propose we share custody of Ben in the same home. This way he will have the best of care and we will both be a constant in his life.’
Taylor’s lips parted, then closed again. ‘That’s the most ridiculous suggestion I’ve ever heard,’ she said shakily. ‘Even if it were viable, my apartment is too small to accommodate you.’
His mouth curved into a faint smile, and was totally at variance with the stillness evident in his dark, almost black eyes.
‘As it happens I have a property available for immediate occupancy at Watson’s Bay,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s a double-storeyed residence with seven bedrooms situated on an upper level divided into two separate wings. Two individual offices, a home gym, indoor pool. There’s also separate accommodation for a live-in housekeeper.’ He spared her a conciliatory look. ‘Sharing the same house shouldn’t prove too difficult. You’ll have primary care of Ben when I’m overseas on business, and from your perspective very little will change.’
You think? She could only look at him in a state of speechlessness.
‘It negates each of your objections,’ Dante informed silkily. ‘Ben remains in Sydney in your care for seventy-five per cent of the time, with all of the advantages I’m able to provide.’
The lawyer shifted his attention to Taylor. ‘Mr d’Alessandri’s suggestion is exceedingly generous.’
Why did she have the unshakable feeling she’d been very cleverly manipulated by a master strategist?
Taylor cast Dante a dazed look, torn by numerous emotions, none of which resembled calm. ‘I’ll need to think about it.’
She turned to the lawyer, thanked him, then she stood and moved towards the door.
Dante reached it before she did, and she was powerless to prevent the feathery sensation scudding down her spine as he accompanied her to the bank of lifts.
‘I’d like to see my nephew as soon as possible.’
She’d expected the request. ‘Ben is in kindergarten today,’ she relayed evenly.
‘From where you’re due to collect him when?’
‘Three o’clock,’ Taylor revealed with deceptive calm.
The lift arrived and she was supremely conscious of his presence in the confined space. Her eyes were level with the generous curve of his mouth, and the faint exclusive tones of his cologne teased her senses.
She’d felt relaxed in Leon’s presence, whereas Dante exuded a brooding sensuality that had always threatened her peace of mind.
Like you care? a tiny voice prompted. You have every reason to distrust men, remember?
A tiny shiver slid down her spine. As if she could ever forget.
She didn’t recall holding her breath during the lift’s descent, although she must have done so unconsciously, for she measured its release as she stepped into the foyer.
‘Have you eaten?’
The question came out of left field, and she looked at him in startled surprise.