Scarlett secretly wondered if her friend was being rather too emphatic in her dislike of Dylan. They had never quite hit it off, skirting around each other on the few occasions they had met, like two wary dogs.
‘You know, I’ve been doing some thinking,’ Roxanne said a few minutes later as Scarlett wove her way through the city traffic. ‘What if Alessandro changes his mind some time in the future?’
Scarlett glanced at her. ‘You mean about Matthew?’
‘One look at that child is going to make him have some serious doubts about his convictions,’ Roxanne pointed out.
Scarlett’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip. ‘I know.’
‘He could make things very difficult for you,’ Roxanne said. ‘I have a friend whose sister went through a very acrimonious divorce a couple of years back. As a result, their only child has to travel back and forth on access visits to Melbourne every second weekend. If Alessandro Marciano decides he wants his son to spend time with him in Italy, it’s going to be tough on you, not to mention little Matthew.’
Scarlett felt her stomach start to clench again in dread. She had been down this road many times as a young child—forced into access visits that had never turned out the way she had hoped.
Roxanne was right.
Alessandro lived in Milan; he was only here to redevelop the old Arlington Hotel. He hadn’t indicated any permanent plans to reside here in Sydney. If he did somehow come to the realisation that he had fathered a child, he might insist on regular access, not stopping to think of how it would affect Matthew to be transported like a parcel through the post.
Matthew was in many ways still a baby. He had not long come out of nappies at night, and still had the occasional accident. He was certainly bright and advanced for his age, but a long-haul flight would be out of the question. Unless of course Alessandro insisted she accompany him, which would throw up a whole lot of other problems—the main one being her ongoing attraction to him. She fought against it assiduously, but each time he was in the same room as her she felt every cell in her body swell in awareness, every fibre of her being tingle in remembrance of the passion they had so briefly shared.
‘I feel so torn,’ she confessed. ‘For years I’ve wanted Alessandro to face the truth about Matthew, but now I’m worried about what might happen if he does.’
‘You’re still in love with him.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you I’m not?’ Scarlett asked in frustration. ‘I hate the man.’
‘Look, Scarlett, I sometimes think I know you better than I know myself,’ Roxanne said. ‘You still feel something for him, I can tell every time you mention his name. You get a certain look in your eyes.’
Scarlett gave her a withering glance. ‘You’re imagining it.’
‘Am I?’
Scarlett let out another sigh. ‘Look, I admit when I saw him at the restaurant tonight with his latest lover I felt physically ill, but that’s because he’s hurt me more than anyone else I know. Even my father’s crappy behaviour is nothing to what Alessandro’s done.’
‘Listen, Scarlett, you were in love with him four years ago,’ Roxanne said. ‘It makes sense that you could fall in love with him again. Believe me, it happens.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Scarlett said. ‘I swore I’d never end up like my mother, falling in love with a man who consistently let her down.’
‘I hardly think Alessandro Marciano is in the same category of scum as your father,’ Roxanne commented wryly. ‘You’ve only seen your father once since you were a young child, and that was when he came to ask you for money. What a creep.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ Scarlett said with a little grimace of distaste.
Roxanne gave her a reassuring smile. ‘You’ll get through this, Scarlett. I know you will. We’re a team, remember?’
‘I know…thanks.’
‘We’ll knock this project over together and then you can get on with your life. Alessandro will be back in Italy before you know it, and you’ll never have to think of him again.’
‘Yes.’ Scarlet began to gnaw at her bottom lip, a frown almost bringing her brows together over her eyes.
‘But you will, won’t you?’ Roxanne said. ‘Think of him, I mean.’
Scarlett released her lip and sighed as she looked at her friend. ‘I’m trying not to, but it’s hard when I have his son as a constant reminder.’
As soon as Scarlett arrived at the studio the next morning Roxanne handed her the telephone, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece to whisper, ‘It’s Alessandro. He wants to speak to you.’
Scarlett took the receiver with an unsteady hand and held it to her ear. ‘Scarlett Fitzpatrick speaking.’
‘That was a very clever trick, Scarlett,’ Alessandro drawled. ‘Dangling the opposition in front of my nose to make me want you all the more.’
She felt her face growing hot, and was glad he couldn’t see it. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, did you want me for something or is this simply a nuisance call?’
‘I want to see you.’
‘So make an appointment like everyone else does,’ she clipped back.
‘That is exactly what I am doing,’ he said. ‘I want to see you this evening at my house.’
Scarlett’s heart felt as if it had just slammed into a brick wall and bounced off again. ‘Your house? You’ve got a house?’
‘Most people do, do they not?’ he said, his tone sounding faintly mocking.
‘But…but I thought you’d be staying at a hotel, or a serviced apartment or something.’
‘I prefer to have my own space,’ he said. ‘I bought a house before I arrived.’
Scarlett had to peel her dry tongue off the roof of her mouth so she could moisten her lips. ‘So…so how long are you expecting to stay in Sydney?’ she asked.
‘As long as it takes to see to the business I have here.’
‘The Arlington Hotel, you mean?’
‘That and some other loose ends,’ he responded.
Jealousy rose like a bubbling, hot tide of lava inside her. ‘I suppose Velika Vanovic is one of those loose ends?’ she put in churlishly. ‘You’d better be careful, Alessandro, she’s been around the block a few times, or so I’ve heard.’
‘I like a woman who is up front about what she wants,’ he returned.
‘I hate to imply you have little else going for you, but women like Velika Vanovic are after one thing, and one thing only.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘Sex, and plenty of it.’
Scarlett clenched her teeth. ‘I meant money.’
‘Velika is at least open about it, unlike you, who went about it by more devious means.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘I did no such thing.’
‘I will expect you here at eight p.m. We will have dinner together to discuss your ideas on the project so far,’ he said as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘I’m not having dinner with you,’ she said with stiff force. ‘I have another commitment.’
‘Cancel it.’
Three beats of silence passed.
‘I don’t