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‘I certainly threw it away on you!’
‘Is that what you’ll tell Francesca when she’s older?’ Santino demanded in a scathing reminder of Kate’s earlier accusation. He waited until he had the satisfaction of seeing the blood drain from her face and then informed her coldly, ‘I have arranged for lunch to be served on the terrace overlooking the lake. Your presence there will be solely to reassure Francesca.’ His voice was as cold as the ice around his heart. He showed Kate no mercy since she deserved none. ‘I suggest you pull yourself together before then. You must be calm when Francesca sees you.’
‘I’ll be calm, Santino,’ Kate assured him, grim-faced.
She would never back down. He knew that from the challenge flaring in her eyes. It made him rail against fate for wanting a woman like Kate Mulhoon, and made him rail against fate a second time because he couldn’t trust her or any woman on earth to be the mother of his child.
She couldn’t weaken now. The next few hours were crucial to Francesca’s future.
Kate had accepted that Santino was part of their lives, but she was equally determined he would not have everything his own way. When she met with his lawyer it was vital she made the right choices and said the right things. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t have been a problem—cool, analytical and determined was a fair description of her working manner. But this was a situation where emotion and love met head-on with a deep-seated need to protect her child and that might cloud her mind. She couldn’t risk it, she couldn’t allow herself to become exhausted or cowed by Santino and his legal team. She had to remain strong and keep her wits about her as she prepared for the battle of her life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SOUND was cocooned in the panelled library, reducing the precise, sibilant tones of Santino’s lawyer to a disembodied stream of information. Kate sat across from him at a highly polished table to one side of the window, and it was taking all her strength of mind not to turn her head to look out to follow Francesca’s progress across the lawn, because Francesca was skipping along at Santino’s side holding onto his hand as if she had known him all her life.
‘Miss Mulhoon …’
Kate refocused, angling her head to show that she was listening. The lawyer spoke perfect English with only the trace of an Italian accent, and she could hardly accuse him of being unreasonable. He was being as gentle with her as if he had been her own advisor offering counsel following a bereavement, which in some ways this was. A part of her life had been lost for ever.
‘As you have requested, Miss Mulhoon, I have prepared a full set of papers for you. You must show them to your advisors on your return to England.’
Kate felt a quiver of apprehension and hesitated before accepting the envelope. In a moment of blind panic she had lied to Santino about knowing a good solicitor. She had never had occasion to use a lawyer before except at work, and they were contract lawyers, specialising in media work.
It was hard to believe things had come to this.
‘Thank you,’ she said with a flat smile, taking the papers she realised could only have been prepared so quickly if Santino had rung his lawyer the previous night.
That was so typical of Santino. He made a decision and acted immediately. He left nothing to chance—no loose ends, no second thoughts. It chilled Kate to think that a plan had been in place before Santino had even announced his intention to stay at the hotel. That was just another part of his strategy, she realised now, and was a reminder of the incisive mind behind the devastatingly handsome face. He made sure he was always the innocent party, the considerate party, the only one who always put Francesca first.
He must have rung the lawyer at home, Kate realised as the meeting drew to a close. Like everything else in his life, Santino Rossi had lawyers at his beck and call twenty-four hours a day. Such was the power of the man who had ranged himself against her, and she would do well to remember it. As far as Santino was concerned Francesca was the ultimate prize and even this meeting was just one more example to a sympathetic judge of his willingness to compromise and support the wayward single mother of his child.
The moment the meeting ended Kate went to find a quiet place where she could study in private the documents the lawyer had given her. She had been left with the nagging suspicion that by doing what she thought was best for Francesca she had compromised her position. She wasn’t weak and she wasn’t foolish, and she would fight for Francesca’s right to know both her parents, but Santino was ruthless and made a formidable enemy, one she didn’t possess the weapons to fight. Today’s meeting was about compromise, the lawyer had told her, but compromise was a tool Santino only ever wielded for his own benefit. He looked further than today’s battle and saw victory in a succession of cleverly constructed moves. She was just a pawn on his chessboard and unless she found a way to touch him before they reached a court of law she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Finding a door partially open off the hallway, Kate slipped inside. Sitting tensely on the edge of a sofa, she scanned each page trying to make sense of the legalese. The dates were clear enough, and as she made a quick calculation of the days when each of them would have Francesca she thought the visitation rights seemed quite reasonable. Pausing a moment, she mulled it over. Maybe Santino was right and she was overreacting … She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that things wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as she had feared.
Her gaze wandered to the window and her heart gave a ragged thump as she saw Francesca and Santino. They were just coming back to shore in a small rowing boat, the light wind ruffling Francesca’s curls and doing the same to her father’s thick black hair.
Kate looked away squeezing her eyes shut. She still loved him. She loved him so much that whatever Santino did to her she would always love him. Francesca was her life, but so was Santino … while in his life, she was nothing.
But she wouldn’t hide in the house. Was that what he expected? That she would leave her meeting with the lawyer with her head bowed and her spirit broken. Standing up, Kate firmed her jaw. Her little girl was laughing in the sunshine and that was where she wanted to be … outside in the fresh air with Francesca. Picking up her bag, Kate stuffed the documents inside. She would have to look at them more closely another time.
By the time Kate reached the lakeside Santino was just lifting Francesca from the boat and setting her down on the wooden pier that jutted out in the lake. The moment she saw Kate, Francesca came flying across the grass to greet her. Capturing Francesca’s momentum, Kate swung her high into the air. Francesca was bursting with excitement from everything she’d seen, including the island where she would be able to play pirates once she was older and had learned to sail.
Santino would be able to teach Francesca so many things, Kate reflected, smiling as she listened to the endless list of discoveries Francesca had made. If her daughter was happy she was happy—wasn’t that how it had always worked in the past?
Kate had to stamp on the longing that threatened to overwhelm her when Santino walked up to them. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t bear to see the expression of loathing on his face when he stared back at her. Her heart was so badly bruised she wasn’t ready for another knock yet.
‘Did your meeting go well?’ His voice was clipped, but, as always, cleverly pitched in front of Francesca.
‘Very well, thank you.’ A glance at Francesca reassured Kate that they were both successful in keeping their true feelings from her.
‘Good,’ Santino said with satisfaction.
Kate flashed him a look over Francesca’s head to let him know she was aware of all the risks she had run by falling in with his plan. The papers his lawyer had given her weighed heavily in her bag. Her secret hoard of misery, Kate thought bitterly, knowing there could be no going back. The legal machine was up and running, and as far as Santino was concerned the end of the journey was a foregone conclusion.
‘Come along,’ Francesca prompted, reaching for Kate’s hand, ‘We’re going to have ice cream. Gelato, ’ she added, pronouncing the new word proudly and distinctly.
‘Clever girl.’ Kate forced a smile, knowing this was the first of many new Italian words Francesca would soon be speaking.
‘You like ice cream, don’t you?’ Francesca pressed hopefully.
‘Yes … but Daddy wants to have some time alone with you,’ Kate explained as gently as she could. ‘You and I have lots of opportunities to eat ice cream together, Francesca.’ With every word Kate felt as if she were twisting a knife in her heart and Francesca’s tears of disappointment gave it an added twist. However hard she tried not to, she was in danger of spoiling Francesca’s day. She should have forgotten about putting on a brave show and stayed in the house out of the way.
‘There’s enough ice cream for everyone.’
Santino’s remark was to forestall any emotional blunder, Kate realised. He could always read her so accurately and knew she was on the brink. For once, she could only be grateful to him. The last thing she wanted to do was break down in front of Francesca.
It pierced Kate’s heart when Francesca smiled up at both of them, totally unaware of the deception they were playing out.
‘Don’t worry about me.’ Kate’s steady glance assured Santino that she was back under control. ‘I’ll have some ice cream with you another time, Francesca. I’ve got some things I must do.’ She turned to go and kept on smiling, but she hated it, she hated any form of deception where Francesca was concerned.
But Francesca wouldn’t take no for an answer and seized her hand. And then she took Santino’s hand so the three of them were linked.
She had to keep up the act, Kate told herself firmly. If Santino could do it, then so could she. But all the resolve in the world couldn’t ease the pain of a broken heart. She had wanted so much more than this.
Meredith was waiting for them on the raised patio. Standing beside an old-fashioned ice cream cart, she was waving a child-sized apron like a flag. Kate felt anger flood through her at the thought that this was how Francesca’s life was going to be from now on. What was wrong with a dish of ice cream, or an ice cream cornet, for goodness’ sake?
She had calmed down a little by the time Francesca had served them all beautifully, but Kate still couldn’t bring herself to meet Santino’s eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the adoration in his gaze when he stared at Francesca turn to cold contempt each time he looked at her.
There were heaters positioned on the patio to protect them from the slightest chill, but even so Kate shivered as she thought about her meeting with his lawyer and what it signified. Surely a child belonged with her mother? She had to believe that. She had to believe that any court would uphold that right.
‘Kate, a word, please …’
Kate jolted back to attention as Santino spoke to her and saw he was standing, waiting for her to go with him. What now? What demands, what threats, would he put in place? But even as she shrank from the prospect of more power play she yearned to be with him, to be close to him, to have the opportunity to try and reach beyond the coldness and find his heart.
Thanking Francesca for his ice cream, he promised to visit her stall again very soon, and then turned to make sure Kate was following him.
Kate was so eaten up by anxiety on her way back into the house that she almost stumbled. Santino was there to catch her. He steadied her, his touch on her arm a poignant reminder of the old intimacy between them.
Her heart was always ready to take him back, Kate realised, but she had to stop wasting time on hopeless daydreams and concentrate on securing the best possible outcome for Francesca.
‘Do you think Francesca is happy?’
They had taken up positions on opposite sides of Santino’s study and were facing each other.
‘Of course,’ Kate told him honestly. ‘Anyone can see how happy she is.’ Even as she spoke Kate was conscious that any innocent remark might work against her. Just by telling the truth she made it sound as if she were endorsing Santino’s desire to keep Francesca with him in Rome. She would have to be on guard every moment and watch every word she said.
‘And what do you think of my proposals regarding visitation rights? Do you think them fair?’
Fair … The word thundered in Kate’s head, taunting her with what might have been, reminding her that now it all came down to a balancing act between them as they ensured Francesca’s time was divided between them. ‘Yes,’ she said uncertainly, wishing now that she had stayed longer in the house to study the documents. The urge to be with Francesca had overwhelmed her and made her careless, and now she realised that it might have cost her dear. ‘They seemed fair.’
‘That’s good. We need to get everything organised as quickly as possible to lessen the impact on Francesca.’
Lessen the impact on Francesca? Kate couldn’t find any words in answer to that. Was Santino serious? How would a speedy decision lessen the impact on Francesca? Had he thought how this new regime would impact on her? How could it affect Francesca other than negatively when it took away from her everything she knew, everything she was comfortable with, everything in her innocence she believed would go on for ever? Santino might have convinced himself that a straightforward transaction could take place between them, but all the riches in the world couldn’t reassure a child who had been uprooted from her home.
She almost felt sad for him as she looked at him. There was such confidence in his gaze, he was so sure he was right, whereas she felt as if a deep, dark pit had opened up and was waiting to claim her. She had held herself aloof for so many years only to fall in love with a man who didn’t want her, a man whose arrant certainty threatened Francesca’s happiness and who appeared at this moment to despise Kate to the point where he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had destroyed her.
‘Do you think yourself a fit mother, Kate?’
‘Of course I do.’ What did he mean? What sort of confession was he waiting for her to make?
‘Really?’
Santino’s voice surprised her. It had turned soft and seductive, and took her off her guard. When he came across the room she wasn’t quick enough to evade him, or perhaps she didn’t want to. The yearning inside her was certainly too great to resist him and when he took hold of her arms she was pliant in his grasp.
The clock ticked as her head rolled back allowing him to drop a kiss on the exposed tender flesh on her neck. She wanted so much to believe that everything would be all right, and that he had taken pity on her. The touch of his lips quickly enflamed her senses, raising her nipples, and causing something heavy to twist deep inside her.
‘More?’ he murmured softly.
She could only sigh and then that sigh became a moan.
Taking his cue, Santino rasped the rough stubble on his cheeks against Kate’s tender neck.
‘Kiss me, Santino …’ The words came out on a breath and her eyes were barely focused. If only he would kiss her and hold her she knew that she had hope. She could see that his eyes were half shut and his lips were tugging up at one corner in a sexy, sardonic smile. The softening in his jaw was irresistible and he was gazing down at her in that sleepy, confident way he had …’Please …’ Her hands crept up the sleeves of his lightweight jacket, and, growing in confidence, she sought the hard, tanned flesh beneath the open buttons on his shirt. ‘Kiss me, Santino.’ Her voice had grown stronger and more confident, and her hands were more demanding as they moved behind his neck so she could lace her fingers through his hair.
He made a pass with his lips that left her weak, and then his arms swept round her, bearing her weight. It was everything she had hoped for, more. On a sensory level she was floating, and on every other level Kate knew she was drawing closer to her goal to touch Santino’s heart …
He let her drop and stood back.
‘It’s that easy, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You’re that easy. If you think for one moment I would allow you to have custody of my daughter, you’re mad. Do you really think that I would allow Francesca’s innocence to be polluted by a mother like you?’
With a sound of disgust he left the room.
Kate remained where she was for quite some time … listening to the clock ticking on the wall, studying the tiny fibres in the carpet beneath her motionless limbs. She couldn’t think; she didn’t dare to. But eventually, like some animal returning from a deep sleep, she uncurled herself and rallied. Because she had to, because she couldn’t give up. However hopeless, however weary, this was one fight she could never turn her back on. She had to seek Santino out now and leave him in no doubt that, whatever had happened between them, she would contest any unreasonable suggestion he might make regarding Francesca’s future. She would not be defeated, not where her child was concerned.
She found him in the sitting room, relaxing, reading the paper as if nothing untoward had happened. His brow creased as she walked into the room and then he studied her face for a moment over the top of the newspaper. Finding her recovered, he continued on with his reading as if she weren’t there. But Kate noticed a tension had crept into his jaw. He had not expected her to recover so quickly, or perhaps at all.
In spite of his rudeness her heart raced as it always did at the sight of him. It was insane, it made no sense, but still she loved him, nothing would ever change where that was concerned. And at least Francesca had the father she had always longed for, Kate reminded herself, standing her ground. ‘I just wanted to confirm that I will be consulting a solicitor as soon as we return to England …’ Her throat felt tight, but somehow she managed to sound businesslike.
Santino took an inordinate amount of time lowering his paper. As he put it to one side Kate felt dread creeping over her. ‘You wouldn’t stop us leaving Rome?’ she said, voicing her deepest fear.
‘You? No.’
‘What do you mean?’ She felt the blood drain from her face.
‘I would have thought that was obvious.’
Santino stood up. All the better to intimidate her, Kate thought as he towered over her.
‘Francesca will be staying here in Rome with me.’
‘No. I won’t leave her.’ Kate found some steel for her voice. Santino was merciless, she couldn’t afford to appear weak.
He made an impatient gesture with his hand. ‘This show of emotion helps no one, least of all Francesca. It’s clear you haven’t read the documents through, or you would know the dates I have proposed for my daughter’s visits to Rome. They are clearly laid out. As Francesca is here in Rome it makes perfect sense for her to remain—’
‘Perfect sense?’ Kate interrupted him. ‘To whom?’
Santino ignored her. ‘For Francesca to remain here and grow accustomed to her new life.’
He said the words clearly and deliberately as if Kate had remained silent the whole time. ‘Francesca already has a life with me.’
‘And now that life will change to accommodate me.’
Swallowing back her fear, Kate struggled to remain calm. ’So you have made all the decisions regarding Francesca’s future without consulting me?’
‘You have just had a meeting with my lawyer. How much more considerate do you expect me to be?’
Yes, she could see that meeting would look good for him in a court of law.
‘You had all the time in the world to ask him questions,’ Santino pointed out.
‘And I did ask him questions, about many things, but I was upset, and confused—’
‘Excuses now?’
Kate shook her head at Santino’s accusation, but it was true she had been distraught and not thinking straight. Kate Mulhoon, the one person everyone else relied on for clear direction, had gone to pieces in the only meeting of her life that really mattered.
‘I’ve no time for this. If you had read the document through you would know the dates—’
‘If I’d read the document?’ Kate exclaimed. ‘We’re talking about our daughter, Santino, not a piece of paper. Do you really think Francesca’s life can be divided into segments like an orange?’
‘A court of law will make the final decision.’
‘And you’re happy to allow a judge who doesn’t know Francesca to rule on what will or will not make her happy?’
‘I’m not happy leaving that decision in the hands of Francesca’s mother.’
‘Then I’ll see you in court, Santino.’ But as Kate turned for the door he stood in her way.
‘If you try to fight me you will regret it; I promise you that.’
‘Are you threatening me?’ Kate stared up into eyes that held no warmth for her and flinched when they sparked with amusement.
‘I suggest you get a grip, Kate, or a court of law might consider you unstable, and judge you to be an unfit mother.’
‘And I suggest you find someone else to bully, Santino, because where Francesca is concerned I will not allow you to intimidate me. Now please move away from the door.’
‘With pleasure,’ he said, opening it wide for her.
