Keeping Her Close: In Christofides' Keeping / The Call of the Desert / The Legend of de Marco. ABBY GREEN

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      Rico was disconcerted by this need to hurt Gypsy, because it hinted at a desire to force her to push him away. When really he knew he didn’t have to make much of an effort there. He was surprised she hadn’t hit him the other day, after he’d seduced her in his study and all but exploded like an inexperienced teenager in his pants. What had started out as an exercise in domination over her had turned rapidly into something completely out of his control.

      Gypsy hated him, but perversely that thought didn’t give him the same satisfaction it might have a few days ago. His mouth thinned. He had done something or he represented something that she despised. It was becoming more and more clear that something lay behind her reasoning for not getting in touch with him when she’d found out about her pregnancy.

      She kept making comments about men like you, or I know how you operate, and it was beginning to seriously get on his nerves. And yet she’d had an opportunity earlier to make the most of his discomfiture when he hadn’t known how to deal with Lola’s bad behaviour, but she hadn’t. She’d been generous and had put him at ease, assuring him it wasn’t his fault.

      And he’d repaid her by making a snide comment.

      He was used to people looking for a weakness and exploiting it, and she hadn’t done that. She was full of shadows and secrets which he was only now beginning to unravel. She didn’t trust him, she didn’t want his money, and she fought her attraction to him as if her life depended on it. And he wanted to know why. Right at that moment, despite the most urgent desire he’d ever felt for a woman burning him up inside, he felt the need to proceed cautiously, suddenly wary of what further vulnerabilities intimacy might bring.

      

      ‘I owe you an apology.’

      Gypsy’s hand tightened around her coffee cup. It was just her and Rico in the bright and airy breakfast room. When she’d woken this morning she’d been inordinately relieved to find Rico’s side of the bed empty. He’d already taken Lola downstairs to eat with Beatriz, Isobel and Luis, and Isobel had insisted on taking Lola off to play with Beatriz.

      So now it was just the two of them, and she had to have misheard. She looked at him warily. ‘Apology?’

      He nodded once, curtly, the lines of his cleanshaven face stark. ‘What I said last night was unforgivably rude. You are the mother of my child and deserve more respect.’

      If Gypsy hadn’t already been sitting down she would have fallen. She got the distinct impression that those words had cost him dearly. She might be the mother of his child but he still despised her for what she had done. But then her heart thumped—was he saying that he would marry her? She went hot all over, and clammy at the same time.

      As if Rico could see the direction of her thoughts he said mockingly, ‘While I don’t envisage such a union between us, I had no right to say it so baldly. Suffice to say, I still don’t relish the thought of marrying a woman who thinks nothing of keeping the father out of his child’s life.’

      Gypsy’s chin hitched up. So he was apologising not for what he’d said, but how he’d said it. Fresh hurt lanced her, mocking her attempt to deny it. ‘I didn’t think nothing of it. I had my reasons and they were good ones.’

      Rico leant forward, suddenly threatening. ‘Yes, about those reasons…You’ve not been entirely forthcoming in that area. You’re determined to believe the worst of me—that’s been clear since the moment we met again—and you’ve obviously thought the worst since you knew who I was. That’s why you never contacted me, isn’t it? While I find it hard to believe, I’m willing to bet that you slept with me that night because you truly did think I was just some anonymous person, and not one of the wealthiest men in the world.’ He said this with no arrogance, just stated the fact.

      Gypsy’s skin tightened across her bones and she confirmed his suspicion, saying faintly, ‘I didn’t know anything about you till I saw you on the news that morning…’

      Her brain whirred sickeningly. He was issuing a direct challenge and skirting far too close to the truth. He couldn’t know about her father; he couldn’t know the dramatic step she’d taken after he had died. If he shared the antipathy her father had felt for him, he’d use that for sure. And he couldn’t know about her mother’s mental instability. He wouldn’t understand—few people would—and he would use all that information to make her appear an unfit mother.

      She was aware on some level that this fear was coming from a visceral place, not necessarily rational, but she couldn’t control it. She didn’t see herself ever being able to trust Rico. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d trusted anyone.

      How could she, when her formative experiences had been learnt so painfully at the hands of someone who hadn’t even been as powerful?

      She reiterated. ‘As I told you before, I had no desire to be dragged through the courts, and your departure that morning had left me in no doubt as to how reluctant you were to see me again.’

      He seemed to consider saying something for a long time, and eventually he said roughly, ‘I told you the day I came to your flat that I regretted leaving you the way I did.’

      Gypsy swallowed. She’d dismissed his words as an easy platitude at the time, but now they skated over her skin and made little tremors race up and down.

      His mouth tightened into a thin line. ‘I rang the hotel…most likely just after you would have seen me on the news…but you’d already left…’

      Gypsy stopped breathing. She had the vaguest recollection of a phone ringing as she’d walked away from the room, but she had assumed it was coming from somewhere else. That had been him? To say what? That he wanted to see her again? But even as she thought that, and her heart clenched treacherously, she realised that she’d known who he was by then…so she would still have run, disgusted at having let herself be seduced so easily by someone like him. She’d still been raw after her father’s death—especially as she’d just found out the extent of his cruelty to her mother.

      Gypsy tore her eyes from his and looked down, feeling very wobbly inside. ‘You say that you rang. Whether you did or not is a moot point now.’

      ‘Clearly.’

      Rico’s voice was harsh enough to have Gypsy’s eyes meet his, and something in those grey depths made her breath hitch.

      And then, moving abruptly, Rico put down his napkin and stood up. ‘I have to go into my office here today. The event we’re going to tonight is black tie—it’s for a charity I’m patron of. Be ready to go out at seven p.m.’

      Gypsy watched as Rico strode powerfully from the room, and when he’d gone the absence of his intense energy made her sag like a lead balloon. She’d been to dozens of society charity events, as her father had been patron of many—but only to enhance his ego, avail himself of tax benefits, and occasionally to dip into the funds for himself.

      He’d never got caught. He’d been too good at creating smoke and mirrors so people didn’t ask questions or looked the other way. But Gypsy had known, though she’d always been too terrified of the potential punishment if she did something as audacious as call the police. But nevertheless her father had managed to punish her for her knowledge.

      Once again she was being hurtled back in time. With effort she forced her mind away. She’d never wanted to be party to something like this again, СКАЧАТЬ