The Italian's Demand. SARA WOOD

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      ‘Law! What does the law matter—?’ she began hotly.

      ‘Everything!’ he barked. ‘Now listen, Verity. I’ve had enough of your hostility and suspicion. I suppose you’ve had Linda’s version of events. Well, this is mine—’

      ‘I know all about you!’ she yelled.

      ‘No, you don’t! You’ve heard nothing but lies. You will listen if I have to tie you up and gag you first!’ he raged.

      She cringed back, frightened by his raw anger. She might have to call the police if he got violent. But her best bet would be to humour him, let him see Lio and then give him the facts.

      ‘I’m listening,’ she said coldly. ‘Go ahead.’

      He folded his arms, his eyes dark and brooding and she realised that the bleakness of his expression was actually nothing to do with her, but some pain he’d held within him for a long time. Something in her suddenly sympathetic expression must have soothed him, because he gave a helpless gesture with his hands and muttered a curt, ‘Thank you.’

      Then he fixed her with his penetrating eyes and began.

      ‘Fourteen months ago, Linda abducted Lio from my house,’ he said stiltedly. ‘I had no warning. When I left for work, he was there. When I came home, he and his mother had gone. Linda’s dressing room was empty and all of Lio’s clothes had been taken away. I heard nothing. Knew nothing. My son had vanished off the face of the earth. For all that time, I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Until this morning—’

      Verity felt his pain, her stomach constricting with horror. ‘I can’t believe this!’ she gasped. ‘You thought he might be dead? That’s terrible! How could you bear it? If what you say is true—’

      ‘True? Of course it’s true!’ he exploded. ‘Why would I pretend otherwise?’ he fumed. ‘Do you think I enjoy tormenting myself with the memory of the suffering I endured at the hands of your adoptive sister?’

      She flushed. ‘I don’t know! I have two conflicting stories and I’m confused! It’s just that it was such an extraordinarily cruel thing to do, and…’

      ‘It was,’ he rasped. ‘How else could Linda deal me a mortal wound?’

      ‘Oh!’ Verity breathed, wide-eyed with shock. What had happened between him and Linda, she wondered? ‘She must have hated you very much!’

      Pain etched lines around his eyes and mouth. ‘I’m not discussing her any further,’ he said tightly.

      She knew when not to probe. There were terrible undercurrents here she knew nothing about. To do something so drastic, Linda must have been provoked beyond endurance!

      Verity’s eyes grew even larger with apprehension. She leaned against the banister, clutching at it for support, even more determined not to hand her precious, needy Lio over to this deeply flawed man.

      ‘I didn’t have the full story, obviously.’ Her chin lifted in a stubborn gesture, huge violet eyes flashing in warning. She vowed that she’d get to the bottom of this before she let Vittore touch a hair of Lio’s head! ‘I don’t think I have it now—’

      ‘Verity,’ he muttered tautly, barely controlling his temper, ‘I am trying to remember my manners, but I am becoming increasingly impatient. Control comes easily to me—except where my passions are fiercely engaged. As they are now. For the last time—are you going to show me where Lio is, or do I search for him myself?’

      ‘I’m afraid you’ll take him away!’ she jerked.

      ‘Of course I will!’ he flared. ‘He is my flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone! Sweet heaven, I have held him in my heart and ached for him every hour of every day since he was taken from me!’

      His words rang true and touched a chord in her. He wanted his son. Had a right to him. Her head bowed in defeat and drops of water fell from her swinging hair, staining the front of her dress. The painful thought of losing Lio felt like a dozen daggers in her breast. Imagining little Lio’s anguish only added to her pain.

      ‘Oh, no!’ she groaned. ‘No…’

      As her despairing body wilted and it seemed she’d fall, strong hands caught her arms, holding her up as if she were weightless. Dizziness claimed her but she knew she had to stay alert and desperately struggled to focus her mind.

      ‘Verity!’ he muttered urgently. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

      ‘Terror!’ she blurted out tearfully.

      ‘What?’ His perplexed face was close to hers, a blur of golden skin and strong, white teeth. ‘Explain!’ he demanded.

      Tipping up her plaintive face to his, she tried not to drown in the dark liquid eyes.

      ‘I’m t-terrified you’ll walk off with him now. He’s only a baby, Vittore and he’ll be so frightened if you do!’ she cried tremulously. ‘Don’t take him till I’ve talked to you!’ she begged in one last, desperate attempt. ‘Please, Vittore! For Lio’s sake, you need to know everything about him!’

      He looked wary, his eyes narrow and glinting with troubled lights as they searched hers.

      ‘What do you mean? Is he ill? Physically harmed?’ he fired harshly, startling her.

      ‘No! He’s physically perfect.’ She winced at the pressure of his hands. ‘Please! You’re hurting me!’

      ‘Forgive me!’ His body, his grip, relaxed. ‘I do apologise. I was upset. Worried. In my anxiety I didn’t realise what I was doing.’

      Gently he rubbed her arms where his fingers had clamped so tightly but she could see that his thoughts were elsewhere.

      And she was glad, because she had shuddered at his touch. The strain of the moment was making her super-sensitive—just when she wanted to be cool and composed.

      ‘You unnerved me,’ he said shortly. ‘For a moment, I feared the worst.’

      ‘Please don’t worry. He’s gorgeous,’ she assured him. ‘But… Look. Go and see him. Then let me talk to you!’ she begged.

      He frowned, then shrugged. ‘All right. Anything. We’ll talk. Briefly. I have a flight booked.’

      Verity suppressed a moan. A flight! Not with Lio in tow, she vowed. She’d make sure of that. But at least he’d agreed to listen to her. She had the chance to persuade him that whisking his son off to Italy would be a terrible mistake.

      ‘Thank you!’ she whispered.

      To her dismay she felt her legs buckle. Vittore drew her close again. For a moment she let her head rest against his solid chest, glorying in the protection of his embrace. Men had held her before, but only because they wanted to kiss her. No one had ever wrapped her in their arms and soothed her with stroking fingers, as Vittore was doing now.

      Not even her adoptive mother.

      Being cherished—however briefly—was a wonderful revelation. She could СКАЧАТЬ