‘Not at the moment, no—but he will, Lex.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, really! He will become one of those fatherless boys who hang around on street corners and smoke cigarettes,’ he said witheringly.
‘Oh, ye of little faith! Where did you get your knowledge of the world from, Gio? The international book of stereotypes? And anyway—’ She fixed him with a triumphant look ‘–You grew up without a father yourself!’
His smile told her that she had walked straight into the trap he had carefully set up for her. ‘Exactly!’ he breathed. ‘And I have seen what it’s like!’
Alexa frowned, confused now. ‘You’re saying that you don’t like the way you’ve turned out?’
‘I am saying that I have turned out the man I am in spite of my upbringing—but Paolo may not be so fortunate. I have seen what it is to have a mother who hungers for the company of men.’
‘I’ve had two lovers in my life!’ she returned furiously. ‘And I’ve told you that until I’m blue in the face—when are you going to get it through your head, and believe that I’m not about to start entertaining the troops in my bedroom?’
‘But you are still very young,’ he parried. ‘Your life is taken up with the mechanics of everyday life with Paolo. Yet there will come a time when he does not need you quite so much—and you will think about fulfilling your own sexual needs. That is when he is likely to go off the rails.’
‘You didn’t,’ she pointed out. ‘And you were the child of a single mother!’
‘Because I was lucky!’ he stormed, feeling a knife twist deep in his heart as he remembered all those nights waiting for his mother to come home. Not being able to settle until he heard the sound of her high heels as they clattered their way across the hall floor. Sometimes he would fall asleep, only waking with a start as he heard the front door being pulled to a close and realised that it was past dawn…‘But it’s a lottery we’re talking about,’ he added. ‘And Paolo might not be as lucky as I was.’
‘All life is a lottery,’ she said dryly, wondering if she had imagined that sudden bleakness which had clouded his eyes. She must have done—for now his face had resumed that flinty and obdurate expression. ‘Having two parents isn’t a surefire recipe for happiness, Gio.’
‘No, but I want to maximise his chances,’ he said stubbornly.
She shook her head in frustration, the bright sunlight making her squint. She wished that she could just grab her son and run. ‘Were you always such a pessimist?’
‘Pretty much,’ he said softly. ‘You base your behaviour on personal experience.’
She looked at him, trying to be objective—but it wasn’t easy. His attitude riled her, and his words infuriated her, but that didn’t stop her wanting to tangle her fingers in his thick black hair and pull his head down to kiss her. She swallowed. ‘Look, you’ve given me plenty to think about, and I will,’ she conceded. ‘When I get back to England.’
Giovanni gave a grim kind of smile. She still hadn’t realised, had she? That when he wanted something he went all out until he had got it.
‘I don’t think you understand,’ he said silkily. ‘The decision has already been taken.’
Alexa blinked, scarcely aware that in the distance could be heard the sound of pipes and drums, and that haunting, reedy instrument again. ‘What decision?’ she breathed, as the musicians began warming up.
‘Things have moved on. I now accept that you are not a woman of loose morals, but you are still a woman, with all a woman’s needs—and I am not prepared to tolerate my son being brought up by another man,’ he said flatly.
‘But this is all hypothetical, Giovanni,’ she objected. ‘There isn’t another man.’
‘Not at the moment, there isn’t.’
Being told you couldn’t have something often had the effect of making you want it more, and it provoked in Alexa a sudden defiance. ‘You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to,’ she said.
‘Oh, but I can, cara,’ he demurred softly. ‘And I want Paolo with me.’
‘Paolo lives with me,’ she pointed out, aware that they were discussing their son as if he was a piece of furniture. Her cheeks began to burn with shame and terror.
‘Then it is obvious that you must come and live with me as well,’ he said silkily. ‘You are a good mother, and I want the chance to be a good father. We proved last night that we’ve never stopped desiring one another—so where’s the stumbling block?’
She wanted to blurt out and ask him what about love? Or even—if that was aiming too high—what about the emotional security she had discussed with his father? But his father had been as dismissive about it as Giovanni inevitably would. It would be as useless as chasing after rainbows—their colours always appeared so bright and solid from a distance—but when you got up close they were nothing but air.
Maybe what she and Giovanni had briefly shared all those years ago had been love—or the tentative beginnings of love—but it had been smashed by circumstance. Yet her heart still burned for him as much as her body did, and he was the father of her child. They were tied together through both their lifetimes by shared flesh and blood.
What he was offering was a compromise—but how would she have the strength to live a lifetime of compromise with the only man she had ever loved?
Alexa shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Giovanni, but I can’t do it.’
There was silence for a moment, and when he spoke his words had all the deadly cutting power of a razor’s edge.
‘It isn’t a proposal I’m making,’ he said. ‘It’s a statement of fact.’
Alexa blinked. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Then you are being remarkably slow, if I might say so. I am not asking you to come and live with me, Lex—I am telling you that you have no alternative if you wish to remain with your son.’
Did he imagine that by coming to a country like Kharastan—where men dominated and women obeyed—he could simply dictate his terms and she would meekly accept them?
‘There is always an alternative, Giovanni,’ she said proudly.
His smile was one of cold, pure power.
‘Yes, you are right,’ he agreed softly, and for a moment saw her relax. ‘You can hire yourself a lawyer to fight me—if you can afford to. But no matter how much money you were to pour into it, it would be to no avail, Lex. You see, if you do not accept my terms then there will be a custody battle—that I do not want but which will go ahead if it comes to it.’
His black eyes glittered with a determination which made her skin turn to ice. ‘And I will win.’
CHAPTER TEN
GIOVANNI’S silken threat rather spoiled the rest of the day for Alexa. It wouldn’t have mattered what had happened during the marriage celebrations—a rocket could have flown down from the moon in the middle of the ceremony itself, for all the notice Alexa would have taken. She guessed that there were worse places to worry that you were going to lose custody of your only child, but right then she couldn’t think of one.
She forced herself to try and concentrate, so that the memory of such a magnificent day wouldn’t be just a blur—and so that the royal family wouldn’t consider her a churlish and ungrateful guest, or Paolo be ashamed of his Mamma for looking glum. And concentrating on the occasion worked well as a distraction technique.
The service took place in a circular courtyard in one of the most innermost sanctums of the palace, with tiered seating all around—especially constructed, according to Sorrel to accommodate all the visiting dignitaries. Alexa recognised two members of the British royal family, as well as three ex-presidents, and it was the strangest sensation to be sitting close enough to touch people she had previously only seen within the pages of a newspaper or on television.
Because, of course, given the Giovanni connection, they were sitting in the very best seats, listening to vows made in Kharastani, French and English, repeated in all three languages. She sat there with a fixed smile as thousands
of fresh rose petals fluttered down from the balcony and there was a burst of applause and triumphant music.
Somehow she managed not to flinch at the blinding wall of flash from the cameras which exploded into life as Laura was officially made a princess. Afterwards, the wedding party walked on brilliant blue carpets, beneath garlands of jasmine and deep-scented lilies, to the feast itself—where every conceivable Kharastani delicacy was being served on priceless gold dishes inlaid with real jewels.
Alexa found herself wondering if any of the guests would be tempted to pocket one of the teaspoons, which looked as if they’d each be worth a small fortune—and the inappropriate thought made her smile properly for almost the first time.
‘You’re very quiet, cara,’ observed Giovanni, as they walked towards the table.
‘What did you expect?’ she demanded in a low voice. ‘That I’d be dancing with joy after the threats you made earlier?’
‘I believe there is dancing later,’ he observed evenly. ‘So why not?’
‘Oh, very clever. Well, count me out!’
Of course heartfelt declarations made to your estranged husband when you were having a row didn’t always stand up to gentle pressure from well-meaning members of your brand-new ‘family’. Thus, when the Sheikh made it known after the meal that he would like to have a photograph of himself with his two sons, their wives and Paolo, how could Alexa have possibly objected?
Then he called ‘my most loyal and trusted aide’ Malik’ into the shot—though the reason for that was a little confusing. And when the entire wedding party had adjourned into the grand ballroom—which was bedecked with flowers—the Sheikh raised his hand to order the dancing to begin.
It was started by the bride and groom, and soon Zahir waved Alexa and Giovanni onto the dance floor—though she held herself as stiffly as a frozen piece of wood in his arms.
‘It won’t work, you know,’ Giovanni said softly.
‘What won’t? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes, you do. I’m talking about sulking, my bella Lex. It won’t change my mind, and it will only make things unpleasant for Paolo—and ultimately for you.’
Alexa raised her eyebrows. ‘So not only am I being blackmailed into remaining as your wife—I’m also being instructed on how to behave?’
‘That all depends.’
‘On?’
‘How good you’re going to be.’
‘I don’t feel like being good!’
‘Ah!’ He started laughing. ‘That’s better,’ he murmured approvingly. Giovanni’s hand moved down to the small of her back and began to massage its knotted tension with expert caress. ‘Don’t fight it, cara.’
He meant Don’t fight me. And, oh, it was so tempting to obey him. To sink into his embrace and let the hard heat of his body send little sizzles all the way down her nerve endings. Especially when the rhythmic movement of his fingers was easing all the rigidity out of her body, making it feel as squishy as marshmallow.
Alexa closed her eyes and ran her tongue over dry lips with something approaching despair. What was it about Giovanni, and only Giovanni, that he could make her feel this way? She hadn’t lived completely as a hermit during her time as a single mother. There had been the occasional social function—some of them with dancing, and some of them even with eligible men had who seemed keen to dance with her. But it had never felt like this.
‘How long is it since we’ve danced?’ he questioned unsteadily.
‘I…don’t remember.’
‘Don’t you? It was the night of our own wedding.’
Of course she remembered—she had just been trying not to. Though she was surprised that he did. Her head seemed to want to fall into the hollow of his shoulder, just as it had done back then. She could feel the slow build-up of sexual hunger. Much more of this and she would be incapacitated by it. Alexa wriggled, but the movement brought her body into frighteningly erotic proximity to the ridge of hardness she could feel quite clearly through the fine silk of his robes. Her eyes widened into saucers. ‘Giovanni!’
‘Can you feel what you do to me?’ he questioned idly.
‘Stop it!’
‘How? There’s only one way to get rid of it, and I don’t think it’s going to happen right now—in the circumstances.’
‘You’re disgusting!’
‘You didn’t seem to think so last night!’
‘That was different.’
‘How was it different, Lex?’
‘Well, for a start I didn’t realise then that you were planning to fight me for custody of Paolo!’
‘You thought that after the wedding we’d all go back to our separate lives—as if nothing had happened?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘What, then?’
The music changed tempo and mercifully picked up speed, so that Alexa could move her body marginally away from the aroused distraction of his. ‘I thought we’d do what other couples in similar circumstances do. We’d make access arrangements.’
‘Access arrangements? You want to fly a young child out to Italy on alternate weekends.’
‘Or…well, there’s always holidays.’ As soon as she saw the darkening fury on his face she knew that she had said the wrong thing.
‘A part-time father, you mean?’ he snapped. ‘Still, I suppose that’s an improvement on an absentee father.’
‘That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m just not sure how Paolo would feel about being uprooted to Italy.’
As usual, she was tagging her own misgivings onto Paolo, he thought. ‘Why don’t you ask him? Or don’t you dare to hear the answer he may give you?’
‘Oh, Gio.’ She looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘Isn’t it?’ He pulled her back into his arms—only this time she was aware of his strength, rather than his sexuality as he bent his head to look directly into her beautiful face. Did she think for a second that all she had to do was to bat those amazing pale green eyes at him and he would accede to whatever she wanted? ‘I don’t think you appreciate how lenient I’m being with you—considering that I have been kept on the sidelines for all these years,’ he hissed. ‘Maybe it’s about time I laid down a few ground rules.’ His black eyes glittered with pure rage. ‘You will co-operate with me, and you will do so at once.’
‘At once?’
‘On your return to England, you will make the necessary arrangements.’
‘Arrangements?’ she echoed again, sounding like one of those language tapes where you repeated the words so that you would never forget them.
‘For your move to Naples,’ he finished, with a gritty kind of smile
Her knees felt suddenly weak as she recognised that he meant every word. He wasn’t going to back off now, or have some miraculous change of heart—and even if he did would access ever really work? What if Paolo became enraptured of his macho daddy, seduced by his power and his money? Wouldn’t a tiny rented cottage with underwear drying in the bathroom begin to pale as he became old enough to make comparisons—as label-conscious teenagers inevitably did?
Afraid that she might do something unforgivable—like cry at a wedding when the slushy part was over—Alexa pulled away from him. ‘I think I’ve had enough dancing for now. It’s late. I’m…I’m going to find Paolo and put him to bed.’
He traced a thoughtful finger around the outline of her lips. ‘You can run from me all you like, but it will be to no avail,’ he said softly. ‘Because soon you will be with me in Naples—exactly where I want you to be, Lex. Just as later you will be in my arms and in my bed.’
Alexa felt her mouth tremble beneath his touch, even though her heart rebelled. Did he think that because he was the son of the Sheikh that he could imperiously impose his desire upon her?
‘No, I won’t,’ she vowed, and went to move away. But he stayed her with a hand to her arm, his hard fingers biting into the soft silk of her skin.
‘And whi
le we’re at it let’s get something else straight—which is that I’m not prepared to play cat-and-mouse with you over sex,’ he hissed. ‘Especially when we’ve established just how much you want it. Last night was an exception—but I have neither the time nor the inclination to go through that kind of pantomime night after night.’
‘You ripping off my nightie, you mean?’ she accused.
Giovanni froze. ‘It pleases you to make it sound like an aggressive act, doesn’t it, Lex—even when such things are done within the bedroom and only serve to heighten sexual pleasure?’ Like it did yours, he thought bitterly—and then wondered if she would be too much of a hypocrite to admit it.
‘Well, I don’t want you near me tonight,’ she said, terrified that her voice would crack, and that tears would start spilling out of the corners of her eyes to show him that beneath it all she was just a vulnerable and pathetic walkover. ‘So stay away.’
Giovanni’s face hardened in a proud and arrogant look. Did she really believe that he would beg her? Or weaken when she called his bluff? He bent his head close to her face, so that all she could see was the ebony blaze of his eyes. ‘If I don’t find you in our bed tonight, I shall not come to you. You can attempt to withhold sex as a bargaining tool, but it won’t work—for believe me when I tell you that I shall not change my mind about Paolo.’
He walked off the dance floor, with every female eye following him, and Alexa was shaking as she went over to lead the over-excited and exhausted Paolo to bed. After she had tucked him up, she ran herself a bath and lay there in the cooling water, telling herself over and over again that she would not be intimidated and that there was no way she was going to be an easy conquest. Not any more.
How much loveless sex could she endure before she blurted out something unforgivable? Like telling him that she wanted the kind of intimacy she had once thought was hers for the taking because he had loved her enough to marry her? Would Giovanni meet her halfway if she dared try? Or was he too hard and unforgiving to ever be able to let go of the past?
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