Claiming His One-Night Baby

by Michelle Smart

  His burst of laughter was guttural and bitter. ‘He dangled you on a string for seven years and trapped you into a farce of a marriage and you felt sorry for him?’

  ‘He trapped me, yes, but he was trapped too. He couldn’t be with the man he loved. He’d trapped himself so tightly he could never be free to live his life as nature intended for him to live it.’

  He moved his fist from under her hand and pressed his fingers into his forehead. ‘I was your first, wasn’t I?’

  With a sigh she bowed her head. ‘Yes.’

  ‘A part of me knew that. I sensed it. I knew... I knew but I couldn’t believe because I didn’t see how it could be possible.’ His fingers moved up to knead into his scalp, his knuckles white under the pressure. ‘You let me believe he could be the father of our child.’

  His eyes snapped open and met hers. There was a cold steeliness in them that sent shivers racing up her spine.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘“I’m sorry,”’ he mimicked. Then, before she could blink, his face twisted and he leapt to his feet. In quick strides he was at the fireplace where a row of antique English pottery sat on display. Swiping his arm across it, he sent them all smashing to the floor.

  ‘Sorry does not make things all right,’ he snarled. ‘You have had weeks, months, to tell me the truth.’

  Ripping an old oil painting off the wall, he slammed it on the bureau so hard it split, then swiped it over the large pile of post, sending envelopes fluttering in all directions.

  ‘I never lied to you...’

  ‘You were covering his deceit!’

  ‘No, that wasn’t it at all,’ she implored, getting to her feet and holding onto the armchair to keep her shaking legs upright. She’d known he would react badly but it was still incredibly painful to witness his anguish. ‘I wanted to tell you the truth, I really did, but I couldn’t destroy your memories of him.’

  ‘It’s my memories of you that have been destroyed!’ The lava in his veins erupting all over again, Matteo snatched a still full mug of hot chocolate and hurled it at the far wall. ‘Everything we’ve shared has been a lie.’

  ‘It hasn’t,’ she beseeched.

  ‘You were a virgin! I have lived with the guilt of us making love on the night of his funeral, the guilt of you having my baby, the guilt of what our baby would do to my family... You have let me live with this guilt when you should have told me the truth after you’d done the pregnancy test...’

  ‘I had a choice to make and I made the one I thought was right. I did what I thought was best...’

  ‘You did what you thought was best for you, just as you’ve always done.’

  ‘How can you say that? If I’d ever done what I thought was best for me I would have defied my parents and turned Pieta down. I would have married you.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ he scorned tightly. ‘I would have seen through you before it ever got that far. You’re a liar. You were a liar then and you’re a liar now, but you’re too clever to lie outright—you lie by omission because you’re too spineless to tell the truth.’

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her.

  Matteo looked away, hating that his first instinct was to haul her into his arms and apologise.

  How could he have been such a fool as to trust her again?

  He took in the devastation he’d just wrought, the shattered pottery and crockery littering the floor, along with the dozens and dozens of unopened letters, the cream wall now splattered with hot chocolate, and felt as winded as he had when Daniele had slammed him into the hospital wall.

  He staggered back and propped himself against the bureau.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said, speaking softly but standing tall, breaking the silence shrouding them. ‘I’ve always been spineless. I’ve always thought there was something wrong with me. I’ve never been able to please my parents—I always failed them in some way. I couldn’t even make a cup of tea correctly, it was always too strong or too milky. I loved to ride horses when I was young. I won a gymkhana when I was eleven and do you know what they said? Not congratulations like any other parent would have, but that my posture had been off. It was all those little things that wrecked my confidence.

  ‘Pieta was this brilliant man and I was in utter awe of him, and once I’d committed to marrying him I deferred to his wishes, just as I’d always deferred to my parents.’ I let him dictate everything because I wanted to please him like I always wanted to please them. He did keep me dangling on a string but I have to face the fact that I let him. Then I discovered he was gay...’ She sucked in a breath, looking as if she could be sick. ‘What did that say about me? A gay man who didn’t feel even a twinge of desire for me chose to marry me.’

  ‘He chose you because you were a virgin and would have no one to compare him to,’ Matteo said flatly.

  ‘Yes. I see that now. I believe that now because of you.’ She swallowed and made a move towards him, then checked herself midstep. ‘You are the only person in the whole world who has ever made me feel that I’m good enough exactly as I am. I never thought I could trust another man after what Pieta did to me but there you were, where you’d always been, in my heart. You encourage me. You listen to me. You respect my opinions. You make me feel I could be anything I want to be. You let me be me.’

  A tiny choking sound came from her throat, a tear spilling out of her eye, but she didn’t seem to notice. ‘I wish now that I’d told you the truth about Pieta and our marriage when the test came up as positive but I truly did think I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t lying by omission. I was protecting you because you loved Pieta and I loved you. I’ve always loved you. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to see it. I wish I could go back in time and phone you or email or send a carrier pigeon asking for your help when Pieta first proposed. I wish I’d had the courage then that I have now to fix the mess for myself without thinking I needed your help. I regret so many things but that one is my biggest.’

  Matteo’s listened to her justification with a chest that steadily compacted on itself and solidified. Almost as if they had a will of their own, his feet moved towards her and his hand reached out to touch her cheek. He brushed the tear away and brought his face close to hers, looking deep into her eyes so she would see as well as hear his every word.

  ‘I understand why you chose Pieta over me,’ he said quietly. ‘I can see that I should have known from the way you kissed me in the castello that night that your feelings for me were true. I should have fought for you. I shouldn’t have blocked you and cut all communication between us. I accept the blame I bear for that. It’s been hard getting over my distrust and loathing of you these past few months but I did get past it and I learned to trust you again.’

  A flare of hope flashed in her returning stare but quickly dampened to trepidation, as if she could read his mind and knew what he was about to say.

  He brushed his thumb over her mouth, knowing it would be the last time he ever touched her lips. ‘And that was my greatest mistake. I should never have trusted you. I have been living with guilt since our first night together and you could have stopped it. You have let me believe so many lies when you know I cannot bear lies.

  ‘The only thing I have ever asked of you is honesty. You know how much I hated myself for the lies we were going to tell about our child’s conception...you were going to make me a liar when, if you’d only told me the truth, we could have found a better, more truthful way. When I think of everything we’ve shared and to think you were keeping this from me...it makes me sick to my stomach. You had so many opportunities to confide in me but you chose not to. You made me trust you again. You chose to let me live with the guilt and for me to keep believing the lies until I dragged the truth out of you.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t,’ she whispered.

  ‘What you wanted doesn’t mean anything. It’s what you did that counts. Your actions. You say you love me but I have to tell you, bel
la, you could say the sky was blue and I’d have to go outside to check for myself. I will never believe another word that falls from your pretty lips. My instincts to cut all communication with you back when you accepted Pieta’s proposal have been proven right. I was a fool to trust you again.’

  More hot tears fell down her cheek and spilled onto his thumb.

  ‘It had been playing in my mind to ask you to marry me in the future but now I would rather marry the Medusa than spend another minute with you. The Medusa turned men into stone but you’ve turned my heart into it.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ Her words were barely audible.

  ‘Oh, but I do. The only contact I will ever want with you will be about our baby.’ Dropping his hand from her face, unable to look at her another moment longer, he turned around and headed to the door.

  He’d stepped outside—when had it become full daylight?—when she caught up with him and grabbed hold of his arm, forcing him round to face her.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re just going to walk away?’ The tears that only moments ago had streamed like a waterfall down her face had been wiped away, although fresh tears still glistened.

  They didn’t spill, though.

  ‘Were you not listening to me? Did I not explain myself clearly enough?’

  ‘You explained yourself perfectly well but that doesn’t mean you can just walk away. I’ve screwed up, I know I have, but we can get through this. What we have is too special to—’

  ‘No, bella, what we had was special, but like your marriage it was a lie.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t and you can’t pretend it was. I held back the truth about Pieta but I didn’t lie to you. Everything we shared, you and me, that was real and you know it was. I love you and I know you have feelings for me too.’ Another tear escaped but she didn’t crumple. She kept her grip on his arm, her wet eyes boring at him. ‘Please, Matteo, don’t leave like this. Don’t leave us.’

  He had to force himself to remain unmoved. Natasha was the greatest liar he’d ever met. How could he believe anything she said or did again? ‘Us?’

  ‘We’re having a baby...’

  ‘You think I would leave our child?’ he almost spat. ‘Let me make this very clear, it’s you I’m walking away from, not our baby. You should know better than anyone that I would never abandon my own child. I would never do what my parents did to me.’

  ‘Then stay. Fight. I know you hate me right now but with a little time we can get through this. We’re so good together. Our baby deserves to have both of us...’

  ‘I agree.’ Covering the hand holding his arm so tightly, he prised her fingers off, but before letting them go he brought his face down close to hers. ‘And our baby will have both of us. But not together. I will never trust you again, and without that trust you and I have nothing.’

  And then he let go of her fingers and walked down the steps to the path and to his waiting car.

  ‘You let me go without a fight before, are you really going to do the same again?’ she said, not shouting but with a timbre in her voice that made him pause.

  He inhaled a breath and clicked his key fob.

  ‘You say I’m spineless but you’re the spineless one if you can walk away from something so special.’

  He opened the door.

  ‘Go, then.’ Her voice had turned to steel with none of the softness his heart always melted for. ‘But if you drive away now that’s it for us. If you drive away now you can only come back for our child because I won’t wait for you. If you’re too spineless to stay and fight for us I will not put my life on hold for you. If you drive away then you and I are over for good.’

  He got into the car and started the engine.

  Numb to his core, he drove away. Before he turned out of her street, he looked in his rear-view mirror. The street was empty.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NATASHA SNATCHED UP her vibrating phone. When she saw it was her father, she didn’t hesitate to decline the call. About to throw it back on the table, she stopped herself and took a deep breath.

  She couldn’t avoid her parents for ever. Between them they’d left over a dozen messages. If she didn’t respond soon, they’d get a plane over to Pisa and turn up on her doorstep.

  She spent a few minutes trying to get her brain to focus on what she needed to say and then composed a short message confirming that, yes, it was true she was pregnant and, yes, it was true the father of her child was Matteo Manaserro and not her late husband. No, she wouldn’t be marrying Matteo. She signed off by confirming she would not be taking any monies from Pieta’s estate.

  Once the message was sent she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Whatever she did next would be wrong in their eyes.

  She’d spent twenty-five years trying to please them. Finally, she’d accepted she never would. And finally she found she no longer cared to try.

  She wondered fleetingly if they would have the audacity to tap Matteo up for money. If they did she could well imagine the reception they would receive for their efforts.

  Her phone vibrated again. This time it was one of the journalists she’d contacted about publicity for Pieta’s memorial hospital in Caballeros. She declined the call, knowing she should just turn her phone off. The only people she wanted to hear from were the only ones who hadn’t been in contact.

  She wished they would, even if only to scream and shout at her. The silence was unbearable. Neither Vanessa nor Francesca would answer her calls. She’d gone to Vanessa’s villa but had been turned away by the housekeeper.

  Natasha’s affair with Matteo was headline news in Italy. The great Pieta Pellegrini’s widow falling straight into the arms of his equally rich and famous cousin was too juicy a story to ignore. Luck had finally been on her side—they’d only discovered her identity the day after she’d moved into a new house. Three weeks later she and her new home remained off the media’s radar.

  Two days after Matteo had driven out of her life, she’d walked the streets of Pisa looking for a job and a cheap place to live. She hadn’t wanted to stay in Pieta’s house a day longer than necessary. It was the focus she’d needed to carry on. She had a child to think about and refused to cry and wallow in self-pity. What kind of example would that set? No, the only way she could help her situation was by taking control of it and setting out as she meant to go on.

  She’d found herself a job in a coffee shop within an hour. She hadn’t had as much luck with a cheap home but that problem had resolved itself when she’d returned to the house to find a note pushed through the front door and a set of keys.

  It had been from Matteo.

  In the space of two days he’d bought a house for her to live in. The note had made clear it was for their baby’s benefit and not her own. When the baby was born he would put the deeds to it in its name. He’d also arranged regular maintenance payments effective immediately.

  As much as her pride wanted to throw both the house and the maintenance back in his face, she’d resisted. Her baby deserved a decent place to live. Her new job would keep her going until the baby was born. She wouldn’t spend a penny of the maintenance money on herself but her baby had a rich father and it wasn’t fair to deprive it out of pride. She wouldn’t take anything from him for her own benefit.

  She’d hardened herself to him completely. If she was so disposable that he could walk away without a second thought, for a second time, then he didn’t deserve her tears. That he visited her every night in her dreams was something she had no control over and something she refused to dwell on. It was safer that way. She needed to keep healthy, emotionally and physically, for her baby’s sake. Their baby was their only reason for communication now, a few terse messages exchanged about appointments and scans and their baby’s health. She knew she wouldn’t see him again until the next scan in the new year. She stubbornly told herself that suited her fine.

  But she couldn’t harden herself to Vanessa and Francesca. Matteo had kept his promise and kept the
truth about Pieta to himself so at least they’d been spared that truth.

  Their reaction was nothing she hadn’t prepared herself for but it still hurt. A small part of her had hoped they would forgive her. A large part of her still prayed they would.

  She hoped they’d come to forgive Matteo too, then chided herself for thinking about him again.

  And now, looking out onto the street from the dining room of the house paid for by his money and seeing Christmas lights twinkling from the houses across the road, knowing she was going to spend her first ever Christmas alone, she had to keep reminding herself why losing everyone she loved was for the best.

  * * *

  Matteo rummaged through the minibar of his hotel suite but couldn’t find the brand of bourbon he preferred to drink.

  About to put a call through to room service, he was interrupted by a knock on his door.

  Wondering who the hell could be calling at this time of night, he walked the long length of the living area of his suite to the door. If the alcohol he’d consumed that night had done the job as well as he’d hoped, he’d be asleep by now.

  He’d drunk steadily all night in the restaurant he’d taken his clinic staff in Florence to, their turn for him to grace their presence at their annual Christmas party. He’d seriously considered cancelling but knew it would result in a huge blow to morale. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, he would fly to his apartment in New York and pretend to enjoy the festivities alone.

  He couldn’t even contemplate spending Christmas in Miami.

  He was sick of travelling. He was sick of every place he visited reminding him in some way of Natasha, even countries that didn’t have the slightest shred of a link with her. He was sick of the paparazzi following his every move.

  From utilising the press shamelessly for publicity to promote his business, he now wanted to obliterate every journalist and paparazzo from the face of the earth.

  He wished he’d been so lucky in obliterating Florence from the face of his schedule. Knowing Natasha was barely fifty miles away made it much harder to obliterate her from his mind. This was the city she’d had the scan in and he’d learned he really was going to be a father.