She clamped her mouth closed over a denial that she knew would be a lie.
‘And then what will happen—you both move in with your mother?’ He arched a brow and watched her face. ‘You’ve thought of that, but I suppose you’re also thinking she’s not getting any younger, and she’s already brought up her children. She needs a rest, but what option will you have? And, of course, there is no work here for an up-and-coming architect so you’ll move back to Edinburgh or Glasgow?’
She fought the urge to cover her ears and shut out the horribly insidious voice putting her worst unacknowledged fears into words. ‘I’ve not thought—’
‘That far ahead?’ he inserted smoothly. ‘I get that, but you’re going to have to when you stop thinking some sort of miracle is going to happen. Will you take Jamie with you and farm him out to a nursery?’ he pressed, as he relentlessly continued to paint a picture of the future that Flora didn’t want to see. ‘Or leave him here with your mother? Do you think that your sister and Bruno would want any of that for their son? Do you think that was what they had in mind when they made you his guardian?’
‘My mum is too old to...’ Biting her lip as she felt the press of tears behind her eyes, she shook her head. ‘You don’t know what is best for Jamie.’
‘Do you?’
Unable to respond, she turned her head away, closing her eyes to shut out his dark, relentless stare.
He saw the doubts in her face and pressed home his advantage, reminding the guilty whisper in his head that nothing he was saying was not the truth. ‘How hard do you think that it will be a few months down the line, after you’re late a few times to pick up the baby from nursery, or get the sack because you take too much time off when the baby is sick? How hard will it be then to convince a court that I’d be a better guardian?’
‘There is such a thing as employment law and State help. Working single parents cope—’
Each word was a direct hit at his pride, but when she said cope as though that were a good thing, he couldn’t hold his outrage in. He surged to his feet, swearing under his breath; the fact that she took an involuntary step back only increased his outrage. What the hell did she think he was going to do?
‘I do not want my nephew to cope! He is a Greco, he will not cope on government handouts and charity!’
Wow...when he shrugged off urbane and reasonable he did it big time! ‘Half a Greco.’
The provocation earned her a killer glare.
‘And if you think you can intimidate me—’
‘I’m not trying to intimidate you!’
She let out a weak laugh; if this was him not trying, she wouldn’t like to see him put any effort in.
‘Has it occurred to you that I might be the miracle you are waiting for?’ he remarked in a conversational tone.
‘I do not think miracle when I look at you.’
He sketched a quick smile. ‘I’m being serious.’
She viewed the change of tack with deep suspicion and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, and I suppose you want me to keep Jamie.’
He shook his head in a negative motion. ‘I think you could be Aunt Flora who Jamie has holidays with on Skye and who gives him nice birthday presents.’
‘Well, at least you’re honest.’
In this instance honesty worked, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have lied through his teeth if it suited him in order to achieve what he wanted.
* * *
He nodded. ‘I may disagree with Salvatore’s methods but I do believe that Jamie should be brought up in Italy. I came here to offer a compromise of sorts that would mean your financial problems are over and my grandfather will die a happy man.’ For Salvatore, happy meant getting his own way.
Flora didn’t relax. She reminded herself that this brother hadn’t rejected his heritage, his position of privilege; he was as dangerous as the grandfather.
‘Unless of course you’re not interested in Jamie’s future.’
Her chin went up at the suggestion as she glared at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Jamie’s future is here.’
‘Here or a bedsit in Edinburgh with no garden and noisy neighbours. And what sort of schooling would he receive? You would really deprive Jamie of everything I can give him?’
Nothing he said was wrong or even exaggerated. Flora pushed down the choking tide of panic she could feel building.
‘You have a problem; I have a solution. One that isn’t marry me and live unhappily ever after.’
She gave a tense nod and thought, I’m probably going to regret this. ‘I’m listening.’
‘I suggest you and Jamie come back to Italy with me—think of it as a holiday.’
‘To Italy! What would that solve? Anyway,’ she said, shaking her head from side to side, ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’
He dug a hand into his pocket, catching the velvet pouch that held the ring in his fingers. ‘How about you hear me out?’
She responded to the sardonic request with a slow reluctant nod of her head.
‘Come back to Italy with me as my fiancée.’
For at least ten seconds she managed to keep her mouth shut, until the pressure of the low heavy thud in her head got too much to resist. ‘An interesting suggestion, which, in case you were wondering, is a polite way of say you’re insane. Utterly mad!’ she croaked with deep conviction.
‘Calm down!’
‘I’m perfectly calm.’ The strange thing was she actually was. Her heart had slowed to a low, regular thud.
His lips twisted into a smile. She made him think of a spooked horse ready to run for the hills. One false word or move and she’d be gone.
‘I have no wish to be married, though I would like to know my brother’s child and have him know his heritage. He will one day inherit a great deal.’
‘Jamie will...?’
‘Of course, hadn’t that occurred to you?’
She shook her head, recalling a couple of comments her sister had made...but seriously rich? Bruno had been so normal, his brother was not. It was not difficult to imagine this man occupying the weird world of the uber-rich—he was a man who made his own rules.
‘My grandfather is too old to change and I see no reason he shouldn’t die a happy man. Let him think we’re getting married.’
‘What on earth made him think I’d agree to marry you, that we’d...’ her eyes fell as she felt a flush of embarrassment wash over her skin before tacking on an awkward ‘...fall in love?’
‘He cares little about the how—it is a means to an end. And you can relax, my grandfather knows that I do not fall in love.’
The air of utter confidence he delivered this statement with, as if it were a fact as indisputable as the chemical formula of water, dragged a strangled laugh from Flora’s throat, as for a brief moment her sense of humour reasserted itself.
‘Sorry, you just sounded so ridiculous...’ Her voice trailed off. She was guessing from his expression that he had little experience of being called ridiculous. ‘Well, I suppose it is good to know I won’t be expected to act loved up for his benefit.’
What did she look like loved up? he wondered, seeing those pink lips parted and swollen from kisses. The blue eyes glazed with passion. The effort of