She leaned down so that her face was level with Rosa’s. ‘Hello, Rosa. My name is Darcey,’ she said gently, speaking the words at the same time as she signed them.
Hello, Rosa signed, but made no attempt to speak. She looked up at her father and asked in sign language, Where is Sharon?
Salvatore hesitated before he signed back: She had to go and visit a friend.
When is she coming back?
Another pause, and then he signed, She isn’t.
Rosa’s lip trembled. Darcey shot Salvatore a glance, willing him to lift his daughter into his arms and reassure her that, although the nanny had gone, he would never leave her.
But instead he signed, Darcey has come to play with you.
That’s right—hand the problem over to someone else, she thought, flashing him a fulminating glare. She did not understand what was wrong with him. His determination to arrange speech therapy for Rosa suggested that he cared about the little girl, but he seemed incapable of expressing his emotions.
Perhaps he really was as hard as his granite-like features suggested and did not feel the normal range of emotions most people felt. Darcey could only guess what effect his detachment would have on his five-year-old daughter, who had to cope with deafness and was growing up without a mother. If any child needed her father’s love it was Rosa, but Salvatore seemed to have a heart of stone.
‘I will need to make a proper assessment to determine the level of speech therapy Rosa needs,’ she told him. ‘It should take an hour or so.’ She frowned when he strode over to the door. ‘I assumed you would want to be present during the assessment.’
‘I’ll leave you to get on with your job while I phone the agency and arrange a replacement for Sharon.’ Salvatore saw no reason to explain that he was in a hurry to go to his study because he had just received a text message asking him to call his brother about an urgent matter.
‘But—’
‘Rosa will probably respond better if I’m not here,’ he cut her off abruptly. He could tell from the glowering look Darcey gave him that she did not think him much of a father. Guilt clawed in his gut. She was right, he thought grimly. He was not the sort of father he wished he could be. The truth was he did not know how to act like a loving parent. When he had been growing up his father had been a remote figure. And as for his mother—well, the less said about her the better.
He had been five years old when Patti had left. He had never understood why she had forbidden him and his brother from calling her mamma. She had disappeared one day and taken Sergio with her. Salvatore had assumed she loved his twin and that was why she had taken him to America. It turned out that she had not loved Sergio either. Recently his brother had confided that Patti had been an alcoholic who had often beaten him when she’d had too much to drink.
Salvatore did not know if he felt better or worse now that his illusions about his mother had been shattered. For so many years he had put her on a pedestal and believed he was unworthy of being loved. That belief was still deeply ingrained on his psyche. Maybe it was why he found it so hard to show his emotions.
He wished things were different. He wished he could be an openly loving papa to Rosa, like his brother, Sergio, was to his son, Nico. But always in the back of his mind was the guilt that it was his fault Rosa was growing up without her mother, the fear that one day she would learn the truth and perhaps would hate him.
He jerked his gaze from the accusatory expression in Darcey Rivers’s bright green eyes. ‘I will be in my study. Press nine on the phone if you need anything and a member of staff will attend to you.’
Salvatore barely glanced at Rosa as he exited the nursery, Darcey noticed. She could not understand his remoteness from his daughter. It seemed as though he preferred to hand over the little girl to a nanny, but now Sharon had left and Rosa had no one to take care of her.
She glanced at the child and her heart ached when she saw the wistful expression on her face. Smiling, she walked over to Rosa and crouched down beside her. I like your dolls’ house, she signed. Can I play too?
Dark eyes studied her gravely for a few moments. Rosa had inherited her father’s eyes, Darcey noticed. She tried to block out the image of Salvatore’s ruggedly handsome face from her mind, annoyed by her inexplicable attraction to the cold and enigmatic man. She was here in her professional capacity, and she was determined to concentrate solely on the little girl who was smiling tentatively at her.
* * *
Over the next hour it quickly became clear that Rosa was a highly intelligent child, but although she was proficient in sign language she was unable or unwilling to attempt to speak. The little girl would need plenty of encouragement to develop self-confidence as well as to master language skills.
The nursery door opened and Darcey glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see that Salvatore had returned. But a butler stood in the doorway and informed her that it was Rosa’s dinner time.
‘Mr Castellano is unavoidably detained and has asked if you would accompany his daughter to the dining room.’
She could not refuse when Rosa slipped a small hand into hers and gave her a trusting smile, and she was glad she had stayed with the little girl when they walked into the huge dining room. A single place was set at one end of a long dining table.
Doesn’t your father eat dinner with you? she signed to Rosa.
The child shook he head. Papa eats later. He is always busy in his office.
Darcey felt another pang of sympathy for Salvatore’s little daughter, who was growing up in such isolated splendour. Clearly she did not lack for material things, but Darcey sensed that Rosa yearned for companionship and love.
Will you stay and play with me? Rosa signed when she had finished her meal.
Realising that there was no one else to take care of her, Darcey decided she would have to stay with the little girl and wait for Salvatore. Back in the nursery, she played a few more games with Rosa before helping her to get ready for bed. Rosa removed the battery pack she had worn during the day and the device behind her ear that was the cochlear implant processor.
I don’t like the dark, she signed when Darcey pulled the curtains and was about to turn off the bedside lamp. Will you leave the light on?
Recalling how Mina had hated the dark, because she had felt cut off when she could neither see nor hear, Darcey nodded. Rosa reminded her so much of her sister when they had been children. Perhaps that was why she felt an immediate bond with the little girl. But while Mina had grown up with the support of loving parents and family, Rosa had no one but her stern-faced father.
Darcey was appalled by Salvatore’s seemingly uncaring attitude towards his daughter. He might be the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on but beneath his devastating good looks he was as selfish as her ex-husband. It was about time someone told Salvatore Castellano a few home truths, she thought grimly.
* * *
Salvatore stared moodily out of his study window and noticed that the trees in Hyde Park opposite resembled black silhouettes in the gathering dusk. After he had spoken to his brother and learned that there had been a fire at the winery in Sicily he had been busy on the phone, dealing with the crisis, and had not realised how late it was. He felt guilty that he had left Rosa for so long, but the maid had reported that Darcey Rivers had stayed to help his daughter with her bedtime routine.
He grimaced. No doubt his absence had confirmed her belief that he was an uninterested father. The truth was far more complicated. He loved Rosa, but love was not something he’d had much experience of and he did not know how to get close to his child.
He closed his eyes, trying to control the searing pain in his head. The migraines that had plagued him since the accident four years ago had become more frequent in recent months, and were so debilitating that he was forced to resort to taking painkillers. It was no coincidence that this headache had started