Megan struggled furiously but he refused to let her go. Instead his mouth came down on hers, one hand behind her head effectively cutting off her escape, the other against the small of her back. It was a long, punishing kiss and it sent resentment reeling through every inch of her body.
There was no escape. The kiss deepened, his arms tightened, and all too soon she felt herself beginning to respond. It was like a replay of when she had met him. She could remember the day very clearly. This handsome, dark-haired, Latin-looking young man had stopped to pick up a bag she’d dropped. Ironically, it had been a few weeks before Christmas and her arms had been full of purchases. When she’d looked into his eyes to thank him she’d been so taken with his good looks that she’d dropped another of her parcels.
‘I think,’ he said, with a smile that turned her legs to jelly, ‘that I’d better help you to your car, or the bus, or wherever you’re going. Home, in fact. You’ve got an extraordinary amount of packages.’
‘Christmas presents,’ she admitted shyly. ‘And I’m catching the bus.’
‘I think not,’ he said with a laugh, ‘not unless you want to lose the lot as you’re jumping on or off. I’ll run you home; my car’s just around the corner.’
‘But I don’t know you. I—’
‘I assure you you’ll be perfectly safe. My name’s Luigi Costanzo, I live in Mickleover, near Derby.’ He flashed his business card in front of her and then tucked it into one of her bags. And Megan knew instinctively that she could trust him. He had an open, honest face, and he had almost to pass her house to get to his own. It would be silly to refuse.
But still she hesitated.
‘I know how you must feel,’ he said. ‘A complete stranger and all that. The offer’s there if you want it, but I’ll still walk you to the bus stop if that’s what you’d prefer.’
Megan was eighteen and he was much older than the boys she usually hung around with. Mid twenties, she imagined, maybe even older than that. She was enchanted by him. And she found herself agreeing to let him give her a lift.
His car was smart, black and sleek. Whatever his business he was clearly doing well for himself. And he drove her straight to her door, even helping her with her parcels. Her parents’ eyes goggled when they saw her with a strange, handsome man, but they were clearly impressed.
Before he left, Luigi asked whether he could see her again. Megan couldn’t refuse. By this time she was completely bowled over. Her insides felt as though they had turned to mush—as they were doing at this moment!
His kiss was awakening all she’d ever felt, and Megan resented it, struggling even more furiously to free herself, until in the end he let her go. There was a twisted smile on his lips. ‘Something tells me that old emotions were stirred there. You’re not as immune to me as you’d have me believe.’
‘Wishful thinking,’ she retorted, her lovely grey eyes glaring icily.
‘Mmm, we’ll see.’
Megan felt a tightening in her stomach. She didn’t like the way he said that. He was going to try again, she knew, and it was the last thing she wanted. Damn! How could she respond to him after all this time? She didn’t want to be involved with him again, not ever. He wasn’t good for Charlotte. A workaholic father was good for no child. She needed two full-time parents.
‘Goodnight!’ she tossed stormily and marched out.
She felt Luigi’s eyes on her but he didn’t call her back, and she ran up the stairs as quickly as she could. It seemed to take an age to reach her room, but finally she found it, and closing the door quietly behind her, she stood a moment reflecting on her reaction to his kiss.
It had shocked her beyond measure. She’d thought herself over him. For her feelings to rise so quickly after all these years was scary to say the least.
Perhaps, she tried to convince herself, it wasn’t desire—she refused to use the word love, that had flown out of the window a long time ago—it was pure animal passion. After all, she hadn’t been with any other man since Luigi; it was natural she would feel something if he—or any man for that matter—kissed her. She was a young, passionate woman with all the feelings that went with it.
Slowly now she walked across the room to check on Charlotte. Her daughter was fast asleep, a faint smile on her lips as though she was dreaming of something nice. Christmas, probably. Or her father. Megan grimaced. Hopefully not! She didn’t want Charlotte getting too attached to him because she had no intention of staying, despite Luigi’s threats.
Threats! Was that what he was doing, threatening her? It didn’t sound nice, and basically Luigi was a nice guy. She’d found that out on the day they met. He had been polite and considerate to her parents and they had immediately taken to him, and in the ensuing days a romance had begun that ended in them getting married six months later. In fact her parents had pushed her into it, declaring she would never find anyone else as good.
She had been the envy of all her friends. Nothing had prepared her for the fact that he put work before everything else. At first she’d been proud of how well he was doing. Before he met her he had written a software program that had taken the computer world by storm, and he had become increasingly busy working on further projects. Sometimes she felt that he thought more of his work than he did her. But then he would come home and their lovemaking reached heights unimaginable. He was every woman’s dream in bed, making up a hundredfold for all the time they spent apart.
At least that was what she’d thought in the beginning, but as the months and years had rolled by and he’d never showed her any real affection, she had begun to suspect that their acts of love were merely to satisfy his own basic needs, either that or to ease his conscience because he was bedding Serena. The only time he’d ever declared that he loved her was when he asked her to marry him; even then he hadn’t sounded comfortable saying it.
She had become increasingly dissatisfied but if she complained about the way he was never at home he would say that he was doing it all for her, making her feel that she was being selfish. It wasn’t until she had found herself pregnant that Megan had known she couldn’t bring up her child in a household where there was no love or trust.
Bending over her daughter, she smoothed her soft blonde hair back from her face and kissed her. Charlotte stirred but didn’t wake. ‘Goodnight, my sweet child,’ she whispered. ‘Happy dreams always.’ And that would only happen if they kept well away from Luigi. Megan wanted Charlotte to grow up in an openly loving family. She was always telling her daughter how much she loved her; Luigi would never do that.
Admittedly, Charlotte was excited now, but it wouldn’t last. She would soon find out that her father wasn’t the sort of parent she expected and wanted. Not in a million years could Megan imagine Luigi picking up his daughter and swinging her around and telling her how much he loved her. It simply wasn’t in him.
It could be that she was doing him an injustice, because after all he’d never been shown any love as a child. But she’d shown him love, so why hadn’t he returned it? It wasn’t hard to let your feelings flood to the surface. At least she didn’t find it so. Luigi obviously did. He kept them all tied up in a knot that he didn’t know how to undo. He didn’t even try. And she had a sneaky feeling that he might try to buy himself into Charlotte’s affections.
Her fears proved true when they went downstairs on Christmas morning and she saw a huge pile of presents almost dwarfing the tree. There was every size and shape imaginable and she was furious with Luigi. He stood there waiting for them, looking extremely pleased with himself.
Naturally Charlotte didn’t even look at the stocking Megan had so carefully filled, she ran straight across to the tree. ‘Are these all for me, Daddy? Has Santa brought me all these?’ Her blue eyes were wide with wonder and excitement.
‘Your ones from Santa are over here, sweetheart,’ said Megan, taking her hand and drawing her across