As she saw the truth in his words he could sense her defeat. He would make one concession, and only because Francesca might be alarmed by the sudden loss of her mother. He would not subject his daughter to the pain he had known as a child, therefore any parting would have to be gradual. Decision made, he found Kate’s continued dejection irritating. ‘Try to remember you still work for me. I need you to make a phone call.’ He exhaled with impatience when she didn’t respond. ‘For goodness’ sake, pull yourself together. While I spend a few moments with Diane Fox I need you to telephone the hotel—’
‘The hotel?’
She looked up at that and he saw the pain in her eyes. She was still reeling from the news that he intended to take Francesca away from her, but this was no time for misplaced sympathy. She’d had five years on the run before he’d caught up with her and now she could pay the penalty. ‘You will ask if they have another suite available. Call them,’ he said brusquely. ‘Tell them who it’s for, and that we need two bedrooms.’
‘We? I thought there was no we,’ she managed faintly.
Barely any sound came out of her mouth, but she was still fighting him. Part of him admired that, but the more dominant part of him rolled on seamlessly with his plan. ‘I require a twin-bedded room for you and Francesca, and another room for me.’
Hope flared in her eyes as he mentioned the room she would share with Francesca and died again the moment she realised that he would be standing guard.
‘This is not for your benefit,’ he confirmed, content to see despair replace the brief flash of hope in her eyes, ‘but for Francesca’s sake. I intend that any parting from you will be gradual.’
‘You’re very kind.’
Her dumb insolence infuriated him. She was letting him know that as far as she was concerned the torture he intended to inflict upon her would only be prolonged.
‘I doubt the Russie is full,’ she said, slowly recovering. ‘I’ll ring them now and ask if another suite could be made available.’
‘You only have to mention my name,’ he reminded her, driving the last nail in the coffin home.
Of course there was a suite available. For Signor Rossi, Kate was informed, anything was possible. She winced as the well-meaning reservations clerk said this, while Santino’s cold dark eyes bored into her. The expression on Santino’s face went so far beyond dislike what she really wanted to do was run as far and fast as she could from him, but she would never leave Francesca. As she cut the line Kate made one last plea. ‘You’re Francesca’s father Santino. There’s a bond between you that no one can break, not even me. I’m no threat to you. Can’t you see that?’
‘Did you tell the hotel to hold the suite?’ Santino’s voice was expressionless.
‘Of course I did.’
‘Then you’d better speak to Cordelia and Meredith to let them know what’s happening.’ Turning on his heel he walked away.
***
The suite was grand and luxurious. Nothing but the best for Signor Rossi, the hotel manager had been at pains to advise Kate. And as it happened the presidential suite was unoccupied that evening.
Every turn she took offered up more proof of the power Santino wielded and what she was up against, Kate thought as she switched off the bedside light. She settled on her side to listen to Francesca breathing, deeply conscious that Santino was pacing the floor in the other bedroom. Francesca was so innocent and so defenceless and had no idea what was going on. She only knew that it was fun sleeping in a twin bed beside her mother with her father in the next room. She had to keep it that way, Kate determined. Right now Francesca had everything in the world to look forward to and nothing was going to change that—not even Santino Rossi.
Pulling herself up on one elbow to stare at her daughter, Kate made a silent pledge that Francesca’s happiness would remain her primary concern. There had been no men passing in and out of her life, because all she cared about was Francesca and she would defend her daughter to the last breath in her body. She could only hope that one day Santino might learn to have a different view of the bond that existed between a mother and her child.
As she settled down again for what she knew would be a restless night’s sleep Kate pulled the duvet over her head to shut out the sound of Santino in the room next door. She knew he was pacing in an attempt to eat up the hours before dawn when he could wake up his legal team and turn his threats towards her into reality.
As she had expected Kate slept fitfully. There were so many possibilities to consider, so many potential pitfalls to prepare for. She woke at first light when it seemed she had only just fallen asleep to find Francesca already awake and playing with her teddy.
‘Is teddy hungry?’ Kate asked sleepily, knowing it was essential she make things seem as normal as possible for Francesca.
‘Yes, and he’s complaining.’ Francesca held the scruffy toy to her ear.
‘I’m sure we can find him something.’ Kate was halfway out of bed when the knock came on the door.
‘Who is it, Mummy? Gran Meredith, or Aunty Caddy?’
Kate’s heart thundered as she held a finger to her lips. Just as she had feared and had tried in the gentlest way to explain before Santino had turned nasty, in an unfamiliar setting a child always clung to the familiar. ‘Don’t you remember who came to see you yesterday?’ Kate whispered, fearful that Santino would overhear her.
‘Who?’ Francesca demanded, launching herself from the bed.
At that moment Kate might have felt triumphant or smug, but she felt neither. Even after the terrible things Santino had said to her she still loved him and as a parent her heart went out to him. Knowing Santino was standing behind the door full of hope waiting to see a daughter who after such a brief acquaintance had already forgotten him filled her with sadness for everything they’d lost, and it was for Francesca’s sake that Kate called out brightly, ‘Just a minute. We’ll be right with you.’
This was the defining moment, Kate realised, and she had to handle it well, not just for Francesca’s sake, but for Santino’s too. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt him any more than she already had. However hard the face he turned towards her was, there wasn’t a convenient switch to turn off the love she felt for him.
She commenced the charade by drawing Francesca close. ‘Well? Who do you think is waiting to see you behind that door?’
Francesca wiped an arm across her face. And then, remembering, she gave a little leap in Kate’s arms. ‘My daddy!’
‘That’s right, my darling …’It was time to let Francesca go. She would come back if she wanted to. Kate had to learn to share her with Santino. But as she watched Francesca racing for the door Kate felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest and laid on the ground for Santino to trample on.
Kate could only commend Santino’s behaviour as they sat together like a proper family eating breakfast in their private dining room. No one but the most acute observer would suspect a problem. Kate knew that, like her, Santino hadn’t slept well, but he was charming to the waiters and vastly entertaining to his daughter, if Francesca’s delighted chuckles were anything to go by.
‘And I’m going to show you how well I ride, Daddy.’
‘What a good idea …’ Santino grew thoughtful. ‘I have a place in the country not far from Rome—’
‘A cottage like Gran Meredith’s!’ Francesca clapped her hands with excitement. ‘I love cottages. When can we go, Mummy? Can we go today? Do you have horses?’ she added, turning