The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand. Sara Craven

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      A hard relentless pride looked back at her. ‘They don’t have a choice.’

      ‘I do, Luc,’ she pointedly reminded him.

      ‘They will accept you, Skye. They have too much to lose if they don’t.’

      ‘I don’t want to be involved in your fight with them. I don’t want Matt to be a pawn in your game. He’ll feel it. He’ll know he’s not what they want. You can’t force approval from people when they don’t feel it inside.’

      ‘This is no game, Skye. Believe me, I’m deadly serious.’

      Deadly was right, she thought.

      ‘My parents will love Matt. Unreservedly,’ he pushed on, laying out cogent arguments. ‘He’s their only grandchild and the only one they’ll have if you don’t marry me. Roberto is dead and his marriage produced no children. The whole future of the Peretti family is now narrowed down to our son.’ His smile held a dark wealth of satisfaction as he added, ‘That makes Matt very precious to them.’

      A convulsive little shiver ran down Skye’s spine. ‘Don’t put that weight on me. Or Matt,’ she cried. ‘It’s not fair!’

      ‘I think it balances the scales very nicely. You should feel it does, too, Skye.’

      She shook her head. ‘You’re taking advantage of your brother’s death. For all the wrong he did to me and to you, it doesn’t make this right. Nothing can make this right.’ It was incredibly painful to say it but she truly felt the alternative would cause even more pain. ‘You should marry someone else…leave Matt and me out of it.’

      ‘But I won’t, Skye.’ In a soft, insidiously invasive voice that curled around her heart, demanding entry, he added, ‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved…or will love.’

      She jerked her head away, frightened of showing how deeply it touched her when she hadn’t realised herself how much it would mean.

      He must have interpreted it as a negative reaction. With barely a pause he spoke in a much harder tone, determined possession underlining every word.

      ‘And Matt is my son.’

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘THEY’RE grading all the kids for the soccer teams tomorrow,’ Matt announced on the way home from Darling Harbour. ‘Can you come, Daddy?’

      ‘Your father has other things to do tomorrow,’ Skye quickly inserted, panicking at the thought of having to withstand Luc’s pursuit of marriage with her a second day in a row. Besides, a Sunday visit was not part of their agreement. Her hands clenched, the need to fight against any pressure racing through her mind.

      ‘I bet all the other fathers will be there,’ Matt grumbled.

      Luc’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. Skye’s heart sank. She knew what Luc was thinking—robbed of five years of fatherhood and still being blocked from taking part in his son’s life. It violated his sense of justice and threw Skye into confusion over what was fair and what wasn’t.

      Was she being selfish, limiting his access to Matt? Did she have to protect them both from the Peretti family when Luc had placed himself so unequivocally beside them, prepared to ward off any harmful interference in their lives?

      ‘It’s not until four o’clock,’ Matt informed, his voice brightening with the hope the late time might make a difference. ‘You can have all day to do other things.’

      Skye closed her eyes despairingly. It wasn’t Luc using Matt to pressure her into doing what he wanted. Their son was doing a good job of it all by himself. She heard Luc’s swift intake of breath hissing between his teeth. He was hating this, and God help her, she hated it, too. It wasn’t how it should be for Matt.

      Luc spoke, determinedly testing her resistance to the idea. ‘Perhaps I could come by the soccer park…’

      Words left hanging for her to pick up on, words carefully strained of any forceful persuasion, words that begged this concession from her.

      And she heard herself say, ‘Matt would like that.’

      Luc’s relief was palpable.

      The thin edge of the wedge, Skye thought, but it was difficult to regret it, listening to Matt’s bubbling pleasure in the possibility his father would come to watch him.

      Not possibility.

      Certainty.

      Skye had no doubt about that. Luc confirmed it before he left that evening, pausing on the front porch to thank her for stretching their agreement and thankfully not pressing her for anything else.

      Though his eyes did. His eyes bored into hers, intent on smashing every barrier between them. She knew he wouldn’t be content until there were no limitations on their relationship. But she wasn’t sure what was the driving force behind the burning intent.

      Love…possession…revenge?

      All of them powerful feelings.

      Long into the night Skye lay awake, feeling her own way through Luc’s current conflict with his parents. He’d thrown down the gauntlet to them—lose him or accept her as his wife and Matt as his son. He expected to win the challenge, but would he?

      The method used to separate them last time had been an extreme act, demonstrating the depth of his family’s opposition to a relationship which didn’t fit into their world. To Skye’s mind, their grief over losing their younger son, was highly unlikely to change their attitude towards her. They would want Luc to fulfil their plans for him even more now—their one son left to uphold all they stood for.

      Luc thought Matt would be a swaying factor—their one grandchild—but Skye doubted her son had the power to pull them into acceptance. The trust fund proved how much they would pay to keep the unwanted by-blow out of their lives. He wasn’t wanted any more than she was.

      They probably saw Luc’s reaction to Roberto’s deathbed confession as a rebellion against having been manipulated into giving up a woman he’d wanted—shock at discovering he had a child. His knowledge might stay their hand from any further interference with her life or Matt’s, but there would surely be mounting pressure on Luc to drop them from his life.

      It could become a very bitter battle.

      Luc had spoken of his parents losing but Skye couldn’t see them rolling over to oblige what might be considered as only wounded pride on his part. Yet it wasn’t pride she felt pulsing from him when he was with her and Matt. It was need. And it kept stirring need in her, as well. Even more unsettling… need in Matt.

      Where would it all end?

      Roberto’s deathbed revelations had set in motion a train of action she had no way of stopping. Luc was the engine driver and she and Matt were captive passengers. All she could hope for was they didn’t crash against an immovable force which would break them apart with worse wounds to carry into the future.

      Eventually Skye fell into a fretful sleep. She was wakened the СКАЧАТЬ