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Her fingers shook a little as she caught hold of the receiver, intoned a brief acknowledgment and saw his features harden.
‘Buzz me in, Shannay. We need to talk.’
She bit back an angry retort. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
For a moment his gaze became faintly hooded, and his voice assumed a dangerous silkiness. ‘I intend to see my daughter.’
‘You have no proof she’s yours,’ she was goaded into stating.
His dark eyes seemed to pierce her own via the video link. ‘You want to do this the hard way?’
‘We lost the art of polite dialogue a long time ago.’
Marcello’s expression hardened, and she had the uncanny sensation he could see her … which was, of course, impossible.
Yet that fact did little to aid reassurance, or prevent the shivery finger of fear feathering the length of her spine.
It was easy to close down the video screen. Not so easy to cast him out of her mind, and his forceful image refused to subside despite every effort she made to conquer it as she quickly showered, pulled on black dress jeans, added a singlet top, some faux bling, swept her hair into a casual twist and applied minimum make-up.
Then she caught up her bag, collected keys, locked the apartment and took the lift down to the basement car park. Nervous tension rose up a notch as the doors slid open, and she stepped out and began walking towards her sedan … only to falter fractionally as she caught sight of a tall male figure leaning against the passenger door.
CHAPTER THREE
MARCELLO.
With one hand resting in his trouser pocket, the casual stance portrayed studied indolence … a look she knew to be misleading, for it bore the stamp of a predator awaiting the opportunity to strike.
For a wild second she considered turning back towards the lift. Except she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Besides, it was paramount she collect Nicki from kindergarten.
He wanted a confrontation? She’d darned well give him one!
Shannay lifted her chin and fixed him with a determined look … which presumably had little or no effect, for his position remained unchanged as she drew close.
Her shoulders lifted, she straightened her back and she fearlessly met his dark, almost black eyes.
OK, so she’d start out being civil. ‘Marcello.’
‘Shannay.’
The timbre of his faintly accented voice curled round her nerve-ends and tugged … much to her dismay. She didn’t want to be affected by him, nor did she want any reminder of what they’d shared.
Which was a travesty, given the fact that they had Nicki’s existence as living proof!
‘This is a private car park.’
One eyebrow slanted in open mockery. ‘Next, you’ll ask how I accessed entry.’
‘I don’t have time for idle conversation.’ She made a point of checking her watch.
‘Then we should get straight to the point.’
His drawled response rankled, and she determinedly ignored the icy chill scudding the length of her spine.
‘Which is?’ As if she didn’t know!
Eyes as dark as sin became hard and implacable. ‘My daughter.’
His raking appraisal was unsettling, and she made a concentrated effort to strengthen her resolve.
‘The father is not listed on her birth certificate.’
A protective choice at the time, and, she had to admit, motivated by an act of defiance.
‘I’ve accessed hospital records,’ Marcello enlightened with deadly softness. ‘Nicki was born full-term. Which narrows down the time of her conception to around six weeks before you left Madrid.’
She knew what was coming, and she closed her eyes as if the action would prevent the damning words he would inevitably relay.
‘I’ve authorised a DNA paternity test through a private biolab.’ He waited a beat. ‘They have my sample, and require one from Nicki, preferably within the next twenty-four hours.’ A muscle bunched at his jaw. ‘I have the requisite paperwork for you to sign.’
She wanted to hit him … hard, preferably where it would hurt the most.
‘No.’ Her voice was terse as she battled with her anger, and his eyes hardened.
‘You refuse permission?’
‘Yes, damn you!’
‘Then I file for custody, and it gets ugly.’
The chilling finality in his voice succeeded in sending a wave of fear washing through Shannay’s body.
He could command the finest legal brains in the country to present a case in his favour.
No surprise there. It was a measure of the man to ensure every detail was in place before he struck.
‘You bastard.’
One eyebrow lifted in a gesture of deliberate cynicism. ‘No descriptive adjectives, Shannay?’
‘Too many,’ she owned grimly, hating him more than she’d hated anyone in her life.
‘Your call. You have twenty-four hours to provide me with your decision.’
Her eyes sparked dark fire. ‘Go to hell, Marcello.’
He extracted a card and held it out to her. ‘My cellphone number. Call me.’
‘Not in this millennium.’
The atmosphere between them became so highly charged it threatened to ignite.
Marcello’s eyebrow slanted in visible mockery. ‘Perhaps you should reconsider, given I’m aware of your address, Nicki’s kindergarten, the park you both frequently visit.’ His expression didn’t change. ‘Shall I go on?’
Consternation filled her at the thought he might appear unannounced at any of those places … the effect he would have without suitable introduction and explanation.
‘You’d do that?’ Shannay demanded, stricken at the mere thought. ‘Frighten, even abduct her?’
‘Mierda.’ His voice was husky with anger, his features a hard mask. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’
She thought she knew once. Now too much was at stake for her to even hazard a guess.
‘I intend to meet her, spend some time in her company.’ Chilling bleak eyes trapped hers. ‘Accept it’s going to happen, Shannay.’ His pause was imperceptible. ‘One way or another.’
He was giving her a choice, that much was clear … The easy way, or via a legal minefield.
She momentarily closed her eyes against the sight of him, hating the position he was placing her in.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to go to hell, and be damned.
For herself, she didn’t care. But she was fiercely protective of her daughter, and she’d tread over hot coals before she’d willingly expose Nicki to anything that would upset or destroy her trust.
‘You’re a ruthless son-of-a-bitch.’ Her voice was filled with bitterness, and he merely inclined his head.
‘So what else is new?’
‘Nicki is mine. I chose to carry her, give birth to her.’ Her eyes blazed with pent-up emotion. ‘I was the one to nurture and love her.’
A muscle tensed close to his jaw. ‘You denied me the opportunity to be there.’
‘We were through!’
‘You opted out.’
The correction hurt. ‘Instead of staying to fight for you?’ She offered a dismissive gesture and her voice became husky.
‘Please. I hit my head against a figurative brick wall at every turn. In the end, your mistress and your family won.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You were my wife.’
The ‘were’ did it, and her chin tilted as she flung him a look of blazing defiance. ‘Fat lot of difference that made.’
‘I gave my vow of fidelity,’ he reminded with pitiless disregard, watching the conflicting emotions chase fleetingly across her expressive features.
Shannay didn’t want to think of their wedding day, or the days and weeks that had followed when everything in their world had seemed perfect. Until reality intervened, insidiously at first, until she was forced to recognise the manipulative calculation of planned destruction.
‘Empty words, Marcello?’
‘This is old ground, is it not? Now there is a more pressing matter to be resolved.’
Nicki.
Shannay felt pain shaft through her body, and her features became strained.
‘Where would you prefer to meet?’ he pursued hardily. ‘The kindergarten or your apartment?’
Dear heaven, no. ‘Not the kindergarten.’ Her mind scrambled for a compromise.
Nor the apartment. She couldn’t bear to have him invade her sanctuary, her space, where he’d assume control and she’d have to sacrifice her own in Nicki’s presence … or risk a situation which would alarm her daughter.
Lunch. She could do lunch. Somewhere child-friendly that Nicki was familiar with, and they’d keep it short and sweet … the shorter the better.
She named a venue and stated a time. ‘Tomorrow,’ she added, and saw his mouth tighten.
‘Today.’
‘No,’ she said firmly. She needed to assume some form of control in the situation.
His gaze seemed to bore into hers. ‘Today, Shannay. Twelve-thirty.’ He paused imperceptibly, and his voice became deadly quiet. ‘Be there.’
Today. Tomorrow. What was the difference? How would twenty-four hours change anything?
Marcello was here. And now she had no recourse but to deal with the situation.
‘If—if,’ she stressed, ‘I agree, there would need to be conditions.’
‘Such as?’
A pulse beat fast at the base of her throat, a visible sign of her inner turmoil.
Marcello regarded her steadily, noting the darkness of her eyes, the faint shadows beneath, and her pale features.
It would seem she hadn’t slept any better than he, and there was a certain satisfaction to be had in that.
‘As far as Nicki is concerned, you’re just—’ she hesitated, aware friend wasn’t the word she wanted to use ‘—someone I know.’
Marcello felt like shaking her, and barely controlled the need. ‘And when the paternity test reveals otherwise?’
Shannay’s features whitened dramatically. She really didn’t want to go there … at least, not until she had to. She checked her watch, and felt her stomach curl with apprehension. ‘I have to leave now, Marcello.’ Even if the traffic lights were in her favour, she was going to be late picking Nicki up.
Marcello straightened and extracted a set of keys. ‘I’ll follow at a discreet distance.’
Her eyes flared. ‘Because you don’t trust me?’
‘It’s a more simple process than consulting a map.’
Without a further word he crossed to a sleek sedan and slid in behind the wheel.
