‘I don’t know why you’ve come here and I don’t wish to know either. However, let me make myself clear: if you’ve had a child, Signorina Davies, it has nothing to do with me.’
Lowri had to stop herself taking a step back as he stared at her through the gate. The coldness in his eyes was far more intimidating than anger would have been. Vincenzo had always been in control. Even though she had known him only for a short time, she had soon realised that he kept his emotions on a very tight rein—apart from that night when they had made love.
The thought sent a rush of heat through her and Lowri shuddered. She had tried not to think about that night. It had seemed pointless dwelling on it, foolish to imagine that it had meant anything to Vincenzo when his subsequent actions had proved that it hadn’t.
They had slept together for comfort, out of mutual need even, but that was all. It hadn’t been the start of something, neither had she wanted it to be. She had been in a bad place at the time, still struggling to come to terms with her ex-fiancé’s deception, and that was why she had slept with Vincenzo...
Wasn’t it?
The thought brought her up short. Lowri realised that she was in danger of allowing herself to be sidetracked and that would never do. She had come here for one reason and one reason alone—to help Megan. Their daughter. She squared her shoulders in readiness for the battle that lay ahead. Even though Vincenzo might refuse to accept that Megan was his child, there was no doubt in Lowri’s mind about her daughter’s parentage.
‘She. We have a daughter, Vincenzo. Her name is Megan and she was four years old in March.’
Opening her bag, Lowri took out the first of the photographs she had brought with her, her heart aching as she looked at her daughter’s smiling face and recalled how different Megan had looked yesterday when she had left her with her sister, Cerys. She didn’t care what Vincenzo thought about her, didn’t care if his life was about to be disrupted either. She only cared about this child they had created. Saving Megan was the most important thing of all.
Her eyes met his as she held up the picture so that he couldn’t avoid seeing it. Oh, he might wish to dispute his parentage but anyone looking at the photograph could see in an instant how like him Megan was. The little girl had the same thick black hair and light olive skin, the same deep grey eyes. Even her nose was a smaller version of Vincenzo’s, arrow straight without even the hint of a tilt at the end of it. Apart from her mouth—which was like Lowri’s—Megan was the image of him and Lowri dared him to dispute it.
‘You can see from this that Megan is your child, Vincenzo. But if it isn’t enough to convince you then we can arrange to have DNA tests done. I have brought samples with me so you can send them off to a lab of your choice.’
She paused, waiting for him to say something, but he just stood there, staring impassively at the photograph. He seemed unmoved by the evidence she was showing him, uncaring even if Megan was his child or not, and her temper leapt a little further up the scale. ‘It will be harder to argue with the results of them, I imagine.’
‘What do you want?’
His voice was low yet Lowri flinched as though he had shouted the question at her. She took a quick breath, feeling her heart fluttering wildly inside her chest. The thought of what she was about to ask him to do made her feel sick, but she mustn’t think about how she felt, but about what it could mean for Megan.
‘It’s quite simple, Vincenzo. I want us to have another child.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘IF YOU WOULD wait in here, my housekeeper will bring you something to drink while I get changed. Which would you prefer: tea or coffee?’
‘Neither. I didn’t come here to sit around drinking tea, Vincenzo. I have more important things to worry about!’
Vincenzo heard the mounting hysteria in Lowri’s voice and inwardly flinched. He hated scenes, hated any display of unbridled emotion. Swinging round on his heel, he strode to the door, determined that he wasn’t going to be drawn into a discussion until she calmed down. They needed to talk about this calmly and rationally.
If that was possible.
His stomach roiled as he recalled what she had said. She had asked him to have another child with her and if that weren’t proof of her state of mind, what was? Even setting aside that claim she had made about him being the father of her daughter, what sane woman would have asked that of him? No, she was completely overwrought, unbalanced even, and he needed to proceed with the utmost caution if he was to avoid an ugly confrontation.
‘Don’t walk away from me, Vincenzo! I’m sorry if I’ve disrupted your day by coming here, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say whether you like it or not!’
Vincenzo came to an abrupt halt when she caught hold of his arm. Her fingers were icily cold against his bare skin and he fought to suppress the shiver that ran through him. Turning, he stared into her angry face, his lips already parted to remonstrate with her. Nobody ordered him about; he wouldn’t allow them to. Even if she was undergoing some sort of a mental crisis, she needed to understand that. However, for some reason he found the harsh words drying up when he looked into her eyes and saw the fear they held.
‘I need your help, Vincenzo, not for me but for Megan. That’s why I’m here. Because there’s nothing else I can do for her.’
She let go of his arm and he saw the shudder that passed through her. It struck him then just how terrified she looked. Maybe she wasn’t behaving rationally but it was obvious that she was under a huge amount of strain. The thought made him reconsider his decision to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Maybe they had known each other only for a very short time but she had helped him through a difficult period in his life. He owed it to her to listen to what she had to say at the very least.
Vincenzo turned and made his way to the sofa, surprised that he felt this way. He rarely felt under an obligation and couldn’t remember the last time he had put someone else’s needs before his own. However, there was something about the fear in Lowri’s hazel eyes that touched a chord inside him. He wanted to help her even though he had no idea why.
‘Thank you.’
Her voice was soft, filled with a relief that made his skin prickle in atavistic response. It was as though it had sliced through all the layers that had built up over the years and cut right to the very heart of him. Vincenzo took a deep breath, feeling oddly disorientated. He always knew how to behave in any situation, was always able to harness his emotions and steer them in the direction he wanted them to go, but not now. Not when he could tell how much it meant to her to have him do her bidding.
‘The fact that I am willing to listen to you means nothing,’ he said harshly, hating the fact that he felt so vulnerable. It was such an alien feeling and one he didn’t intend to foster either.
‘Maybe not, but it’s a start.’
She gave him a quick smile as she sat down and Vincenzo felt his own mouth start to curl in imitation of hers before he stopped it. Leaning back against the cushions, he stared coldly back at her, needing to set the tone for how the conversation would continue. Maybe she hoped to persuade him to agree to her request by employing all her charm, but there was no way that it was going to happen. He had never wanted children and he wasn’t about to change his mind...although if what she had said was true, perhaps it was already too late to turn his back on fatherhood.
The thought sent a chill coursing through him. Vincenzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although he was loath even to consider the idea that he might be the child’s father, he had to admit that she looked a lot like him. What if she was his daughter? What was he going to do then?
He had sworn that