There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere in the enormous entrance hall, or the shallow, wide staircase they were now ascending. Nothing was out of place. Urns of flowers spilled their heady perfume into the air, while marble statues stood in alcoves and paintings by old masters adorned the walls.
They followed Luigi through long corridors, finally coming to a halt at a suite of rooms, which she presumed to be in one of the wings. He pushed the door open and Megan walked into a blue carpeted room with a four-poster bed draped in matching blue and two armchairs near the window upholstered in cream damask. The curtains at the tall windows were in a cream and blue fabric. It was all very elegant but not her style and Megan felt a faint shudder run through her.
Luigi appeared to be waiting for her to say something, but when she didn’t he opened an adjoining door, revealing a further bedroom filled with every imaginable toy possible. Charlotte’s eyes widened and she ran inside. ‘Are these for me?’ she asked in wonderment.
‘It’s your room,’ he told her, ‘for as long as you want it.’
‘How dare you do this to her,’ hissed Megan accusingly as soon as Charlotte had disappeared inside. ‘It’s nothing short of blackmail. I’ve not changed my mind. When Christmas is over we’re out of here.’
Luigi’s lips curved upwards in a knowing smile. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Meaning over his dead body. Well, that was what she’d do, kill him if necessary. Actually she wouldn’t do anything so drastic, but there had to be a way to make him change his mind.
‘I’m serious, Luigi,’ she told him coldly.
‘And I’m serious about you moving back in with me. There’s nothing to stop you.’
‘Except that I don’t love you any more.’
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Is there someone else?’
‘There could be.’ Why should she tell him that there’d been no one since the day she’d walked out on him? He didn’t deserve to know anything.
‘Tell me, is there?’ he demanded angrily, and he took her by the shoulders and almost shook her. ‘Because if there is,’ he warned, ‘I’m taking Charlotte from you. I won’t allow another man to bring up my child.’
Megan was shocked by the ferocity of his tone. ‘You’re in no position to do anything, so take your hands off me. What I do with my private life is no longer any concern of yours. Charlotte is being well looked after and that’s all that need concern you.’
He let out a whoosh of angry air. ‘Charlotte needs her father, her biological father. If you’re not happy with that then get out. But Charlotte stays.’
Megan couldn’t believe he was saying this. A flash of red fury filled her eyes and she lashed out with both fists, raining them on his chest, battering him until she ran out of energy. In response he wrapped his strong arms about her and held her close.
Amazingly Megan felt a stirring of her senses. Lord, this was the last thing she wanted. It had to be anger, a turbulent rage flooding every nerve and tissue. It couldn’t be anything else. Could it?
She wrenched away and glared furiously. ‘You’re a swine, Luigi Costanzo. I can’t believe I let myself be bullied into coming here.’
‘Bullied?’ he challenged. ‘Ask your daughter if she was bullied. She’s been deprived, that’s what. Why else would she ask for a daddy for Christmas? It’s appalling what you’ve done to her, and I intend to make up for the missing years, have no fear about that.’
A cold chill stole through Megan’s veins. ‘Is that a threat?’ she demanded, standing very straight and rigid and glaring at him through stony eyes.
‘If you care to take it that way.’
‘What exactly are you saying?’
‘That even if you don’t want to stay I’m keeping Charlotte.’
This was what she had feared, and the very thought filled her with a dread so deep that the air around her thickened until she found it difficult to breathe. She dragged in huge painful gulps of air. He was serious, and he had the clout to do it. And, unfortunately, it left her with no alternative but to move in with him herself.
But she wouldn’t let him know yet that he had her over a barrel. She would fight him every inch of the way. Once Christmas was over, when he’d discovered how much of his time a young child demanded, he might change his mind. Megan felt sure that he had no real comprehension of what it was like to bring up a young, extremely active daughter.
‘Bold words, Luigi.’
‘I mean them.’
‘And have you perhaps thought about Charlotte? She might not want to stay here. It’s not exactly what I’d call a homely place.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t like it?’
Megan shrugged. ‘It’s imposing, I’ll admit that. But it’s a statement. It says, look at my lifestyle, look how wealthy I am. It doesn’t say that you’re happy or comfortable.’
‘I don’t have time to be comfortable.’
‘Precisely. And that is what your daughter would require. Time. Your time! How would you give her that when you’re busy making your millions?’
‘It could be arranged.’
‘Arranged,’ sneered Megan. ‘You make it sound like a business proposition. It wouldn’t work, Luigi, and you know it. When Charlotte said she wanted a daddy she meant a full-time one, not someone who would try to fit her in when he could.’
Dark eyes flashed hotly in her direction but he was prevented from saying anything else by Charlotte running back into the room. ‘Mummy, come and look what I’ve got.’
It was sheer madness on Luigi’s part, decided Megan, as she studied the mounds of toys stacked in Charlotte’s room. Did he think that going over the top like this would make up for the missing years? He really had no idea what a child needed. And the more she thought about his intention to claim Charlotte the angrier she became.
‘Didn’t you say something about tea?’ she asked him sharply, wanting to get out of this room and the obscene number of gifts he had loaded on his daughter.
‘Wouldn’t you like to unpack first? Or shall I ask—’
‘I’ll do it,’ she snapped, wondering whom he was going to suggest do the job for her. It sounded as though he had a whole army of servants at his beck and call. Was he really happy with this kind of lifestyle?
She backed out of the room and snapped open the locks on her case. It took less than two minutes to hang up their few clothes. The other suitcase with the presents in she left safely fastened. And when she presented herself in Charlotte’s bedroom again he was still standing where she had left him. A real father would have got down on his knees and played with his daughter, but not Luigi. He was content to watch; he didn’t know how to play. Lord, it made her so mad that he’d cocooned himself in a world where money was the prime factor.
They made their way back downstairs to the drawing room. Again it was carpeted in blue, with display cabinets filled with fine pieces of porcelain. There were two very uncomfortable looking, square-armed chairs and a matching sofa, and on a rosewood tea table in front of them was the tea he had ordered.
The china was delicate, the pot covered by a cosy, and tiny biscuits were arranged on a plate. Hardly the sort of refreshment one would offer a three-year-old, thought Megan, but there were three cups and three small plates, so it looked as though she was expected to join them.
Charlotte ate most of the biscuits but she refused the tea. ‘Can I have Coke?’ she asked politely.
Megan felt quite amused when Luigi was forced to confess that he didn’t