‘Your grandfather is wonderful, Dani,’ she told her daughter softly. ‘My mother—’ She stopped, at a loss for words where her mother was concerned—where any mother who could reject her own daughter under such circumstances was concerned. She had tried several times during the last week to describe Mrs Baker to Dani, but the truth simply wouldn’t do; she owed her mother nothing, but Dani’s relationship with her was a completely different matter.
‘Don’t keep worrying about it, Mum.’ Dani squeezed her hand reassuringly. ‘I simply want to meet them both. I’m curious, that’s all. I don’t expect to feel much else,’ she added.
Merry’s first thought, on seeing her mother again for the first time in nineteen years, was that time hadn’t been kind to her. The face that had once been regally beautiful had become pinched and bitter; Eleanor Baker looked all of her sixty-three years!
Merry’s father had fared slightly better, tall, and still strikingly handsome in his black dinner suit, wings of grey at his temples in hair otherwise as dark as Merry’s own. It was so good to see him again!
‘Merry, darling.’ He moved forward to hug her. ‘You look wonderful,’ he told her warmly.
She blinked back the tears, proudly pulling Dani to her side. She was so proud of Dani, felt she was the single most perfect thing she had ever done in her life. ‘This is my daughter, Dani—short for Daniella.’ The last was added slightly defensively as she looked across the room to where her mother stood, looking at them all so aloofly.
The house itself hadn’t changed at all since Merry’s childhood, still the show-piece of the woman who owned it, the deep red and gold decor somehow seeming to reflect Eleanor Baker’s coldness rather than casting the warm effect that it should have.
‘Named for your father, of course.’ Her mother spoke for the first time since their arrival, a voice well-remembered from the last time Merry and her mother had spoken: cold and slightly condescending.
How her mother must hate having to do this, Merry realised sadly, almost feeling sorry for that. Almost… Too much had been said and done in the past for her ever to completely forgive Eleanor.
Merry’s head went back. ‘Of course,’ she confirmed in a clipped voice, remembering the proud look on her father’s face the day he’d realised she had named her daughter after him.
‘In that case, my dear,’ Eleanor spoke directly to her granddaughter, ‘I shall call you Daniella.’
Dani returned her look with unblinking eyes. ‘I would rather you didn’t. My name is Dani,’ she replied clearly.
Merry looked at the two women, the one so much older now, but having lost none of her imperiousness, the other poised on the brink of womanhood—and her expression turned to one of amazement as she saw for the first time that Dani had her grandmother’s regal bearing, if none of her snobbery, and a definite will of her own! Her mother, Merry realised with some amusement as she began to relax for the first time in days, had met her match in her granddaughter!
‘Very well,’ Eleanor accepted after several stunned seconds. ‘I’m sure it’s a very pretty name.’
‘I’ve always thought so,’ Dani agreed.
The initial clash between grandmother and granddaughter, in which Dani had undoubtedly been the winner, set the tone for the rest of the evening, with Merry’s mother avoiding any subjects that might be cause for controversy. Including that of Merry’s supposed engagement to Zack Kingston… Karen was sure to have mentioned that little fact to the family as well, Merry was sure. But it was never mentioned.
In fact, the whole evening was more pleasant than Merry could possibly have hoped for. What had seemed to her like a huge mountain to climb had turned out to be nothing more than a small molehill. She would never forgive or forget the way her mother had let her down all those years ago, in fact she might never see her mother again after this evening, but it really didn’t matter to her any more. She had faced her mother and felt nothing but a slight sense of pity—for all that her mother could have had, which instead she had so wantonly given up.
‘Whew, what a dragon.’ Dani’s chuckled remark, on their way home shortly after ten o‘clock, seemed to echo Merry’s thoughts. ‘Grandpa is a poppet, though,’ she added with real affection, having fallen quite easily into calling him such, while Eleanor had very firmly remained Eleanor!
Merry eyed her daughter ruefully. She needn’t have worried on that score either; Dani knew exactly who she was—and wasn’t! ‘You do realise what tonight was all about, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Dani wrinkled her nose inelegantly. ‘They wanted to look me over, see if I’m good enough to be a Baker.’
Merry laughed at her daughter’s forthright summing up of the evening. Dani was right, of course; Merry probably just wouldn’t have put it quite that bluntly. ‘Do you think you passed?’ she teased.
‘Who cares?’ Dani dismissed.
Exactly—who cared any more? That particular nemesis was well and truly faced as far as Merry was concerned, and Dani wasn’t about to let it become one for her.
Dani reached out and squeezed her arm briefly. ‘You’ve been a wonderful mother to me,’ she told her huskily. ‘The best family anyone could ever wish for.’
Merry swallowed hard. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m glad you decided to name me after Grandpa, though. He loves you, and you obviously love him very much.’
‘Not as much as I love you,’ Merry told her softly.
‘What a lucky pair we are,’ Dani pronounced with satisfaction. ‘And as for my surname; that’s going to be totally irrelevant once I’m married to David,’ she said happily.
Dani had remained firm in the announcement she had made almost a week ago. Having now met David several times, Merry agreed with Zack that his nephew looked nothing like him, but in other ways he was so like his uncle it brought a lump into her throat just to be in the same room with him.
‘Have the two of you decided on a date for the wedding yet?’ she probed gently.
Dani shrugged. ‘Some time after we’ve both got our degrees, and before we start medical school.’
Merry had been included in several conversations with the young couple, and she knew that their ultimate aim was to open up a medical practice together—Kingston and Kingston. They seemed to have progressed a long way in a week, but, as Merry knew only too well herself, it was possible to fall in love in the space of a second, not to mention in three days…!
‘Isn’t he sweet,’ Dani murmured dreamily at her side. ‘I told David how nervous I felt about this evening,’ she explained at Merry’s questioning look, ‘and he’s sat here and waited for me to come home.’ She pointed to the colourful Mini parked in front of their home.
Merry’s own gaze went past the Mini to the Jaguar stationed in front of it She hadn’t told Zack she was nervous about seeing her parents again—in fact she hadn’t spoken to him for six days—but it looked as if he had guessed her feelings for himself, and decided to follow his nephew’s example. He had waited for her to come home, too!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HOW Merry’s heart ached just at the sight of him!
She had inwardly acknowledged to herself this week how much she was missing him, but face to face with him like this—! She ached, too, to know the warmth of his smile, the deep huskiness of his laugh, the warm strength of his arms, to hear him tell her again that he loved her…
‘Zack,’ she greeted him tensely, having locked her car door and turned to find him standing on the pavement beside her.
But she had known he was there, had felt him there.
‘Mum, David and I are just going for a drive,’ Dani called out to her as she got into the car beside David.
Zack looked at Merry closely, searchingly. ‘Is everything okay?’ he prompted softly as his nephew and Dani drove away.
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Merry dismissed flippantly. ‘Dani and I have just come back from dinner, that’s all.’
His deep blue gaze rem
ained fixed on her face. ‘I know where you’ve been, Merry,’ he confirmed gently. ‘David told me. I had to come; I feel responsible.’
Responsible? She didn’t want him to feel that—it was the last emotion she wanted from him!
She had thought so much about him this last week—had hardly been able to think about anything else. Thoughts of Zack, and how she felt about him, had even lessened the importance of dinner with her parents this evening. But she had known she had to get that out of the way, for Dani’s sake, before she made any move to see Zack.
And now he had come to see her…
What did they do now? If Dani and David had stayed then they could all have gone into the house for coffee, but—
‘Invite me in, Merry,’ Zack demanded gruffly.
Now that he was here this was all going too fast for her. What if—?
Zack barely waited for the door to close behind them before gathering her up into his arms. ‘I’ve missed you!’ he groaned, his face buried in the scented softness of her hair.
She had missed him too. God, how she had missed him. He was deep inside her heart now, and she couldn’t seem to get him out. In fact, she had decided in these last days without him that she didn’t want to!
‘What did you say?’ Zack had become very still, raising his head to look down at her with eyes that had gone cobalt blue.
What had she said? She hadn’t—She couldn’t have—
‘I love you, Zack.’ The words came out clear and firm this time.
And she was the one who had said them. Not once, but twice!
‘You love me…?’ He seemed totally astounded by her admission. He was astounded; she didn’t even seem to have control over what she said any more!
‘Yes,’ she confirmed with certainty. ‘And there is no responsibility to be felt about this evening by anyone. I realise now that I should have done it years ago.’ She shook her head. ‘All I can see them as now is two elderly people who have lived their lives by a code, imposed by other people as well as themselves. And because of that they missed out on their granddaughter growing up. I…’ She hesitated momentarily. ‘I’ve lived my own life by a certain code these last nineteen years too. It’s a code that hasn’t allowed people close enough to be able to hurt me. “Emotionally skimming”, I think you called it,’ she remembered ruefully.’
‘Merry—’
‘No, let me finish, Zack?’ she asked softly. ‘Because I’ve stopped skimming. What’s left is a very emotional woman, a woman who wants that white wedding, the walking down the aisle and the “till death us do part” bits.’ The tears in her eyes blurred her vision, but she knew Zack was still there, could feel him there. ‘But only if you’re the man waiting at the end of that aisle for me. Zack, will you marry me?’ Oh, help. She quaked inwardly as she heard herself say those last four words.
His arms tightened about her. ‘I’ll even let you plan the wedding—as long as you make it soon!’ he grated.
She didn’t care how soon it was. She had been without him this last week—and she had absolutely hated it. She loved this man, every caring inch of him!
‘Do you mind if we convert the top of my house into a studio for you after we’re married? I really don’t want to wait until the work is completed—’ Zack looked down at her as she gasped. ‘I remember you once told me that no one has everything they want, so I asked Dani what it was you wanted—and she told me you had always wanted a place of your own where you can paint full time.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Your wish will be granted, my love.’
Candid, wonderful Dani!
‘I would like us to have a child of our own, too,’ she told him almost shyly. To finally be given the studio she had always wanted would be wonderful, but at the moment she could imagine nothing more exciting than the two of them having a baby of their own to love and care for.
‘Remembering your inability to take the pill—I told you I would store that away for future reference! ’ he joked ‘—and the way I find it difficult to keep my hands of you, I think that it’s highly likely!’ he said. ‘There’s absolutely no reason why you can’t paint and have our baby, my darling,’ he assured her lovingly. ‘Together we can do anything!’
Together… It wasn’t something she had ever known before. But it sounded and felt wonderful!
And she knew, with Zack, it always would be…
* * * * *
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CAROLE MORTIMER,
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Read on for the first chapter of
THE LAST DI SIONE CLAIMS HIS PRIZE
by Maisey Yates
the final part in the unmissable new eight book Presents series
THE BILLIONAIRE’S LEGACY
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS RUMORED that Alessandro Di Sione had once fired an employee for bringing his coffee back two minutes later than commanded and five degrees cooler than ordered. It was rumored that he had once released a long-term mistress with a wave of his hand and an order to collect a parting gift from his assistant in the following weeks.
There were also rumors that he breathed fire, slept in a dungeon and derived sustenance from the souls of the damned.
So, when his shiny new temporary assistant scurried into the room with red cheeks and an apologetic expression on the heels of his grandfather—who appeared neither red-cheeked nor sorry for anything—it was no surprise that she looked as though she was headed for the gallows.
Of course, no one denied Giovanni Di Sione entry to any place he wished to inhabit. No personal assistant, no matter how formidable, would have been able to keep his grandfather out. Age and severely reduced health notwithstanding.
But as his typical assistant was on maternity leave and her replacement had only been here for a couple of weeks, she didn’t know that. She was, of course, afraid that Giovanni was an intruder and that she would be punished for the breach of security.
He saw no point in disabusing her of that notion. It was entirely possible she would spend the rest of the day deconstructing the meaning to his every glance in her direction. Likely, in the retelling she would talk about the blackness of his eyes being a reflection of his soul, or some other such nonsense. And so, his reputation would darken even more, without him lifting a finger.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Di Sione,” she said, clearly out of breath, one palm pressed tightly over her rather unimpressive breasts.
He made a low, disapproving sound and raised one dark brow.
She was trembling now. Like a very small dog. “Should I go back to work, sir?” she asked, nervous eyes darting toward the door.
He waved his hand and she scurried back out much the same as she had scurried in.
“I see you’re up and moving around,” Alex said, not descending into sentimentality because his relationship with Giovanni didn’t allow for that. With each returned Lost Mistress, Giovanni’s health had recovered bit by bit.
“It’s been a while since my last treatment, so I’m feeling better.”
“Good to hear it.”
“The way you acted toward your assistant was not overly kind, Alessandro,” his grandfather said, taking the seat in front of Alex’s desk somewhat shakily.
“You say that as though you believe I have a concern about being perceived as kind. We both know I do not.”
“Yes, but I also know you’re not as terrible as you pretend to be.” Giovanni leaned back in his chair, both hands planted on his knees. He was getting on in years and after seventeen years in remission his leukemia had returned. At ninety-eight, Giovanni likely didn
’t have many years left on the earth regardless of his health, but this had certainly added a bit of urgency to the timeline.
The goal being to recover each and every one of Giovanni’s Lost Mistresses. Stories of these treasures were woven into Alex’s consciousness. His grandfather had been spinning tales about them from the time Alessandro was a boy. And now, he had tasked each of his grandchildren with finding one of those lost treasures.
Except for Alex.
He had been expecting this. Waiting for quite some time to hear about what part he might play in this quest.
“Maybe not,” Alex said, leaning back in his chair, unconsciously mimicking his grandfather’s position.
“At least you do not dare to behave terribly in my presence.”
“What can I say, Nonno? You are perhaps the only man on earth more formidable than I.”
Giovanni waved his hand as if dismissing Alex’s words. “Flattery is not the way with me, Alessandro, as you well know.”
He did know. His grandfather was a man of business. A man who had built a life out of nothing upon his arrival to America, he was a man who understood commerce. He had instilled that in Alex. It was how they connected. Where their minds met.
“Don’t tell me you’re feeling bored so you wanted to get your hands back into the shipping business?”
“Not at all. But I do have a job for you.”
Alex nodded slowly. “Is it my time to take a mistress?”
“I have saved the last one for you, Alessandro. The painting.”
“Painting?” Alex lifted a paperweight from his desk and moved it, tapping the glass with his index finger. “Don’t tell me you were a great collector of clowns on velvet or some such.”
Giovanni chuckled. “No. Nothing of the kind. I’m looking for The Lost Love.”
Alex frowned. “My art history is a little bit faint at my advanced age, but the name does sound familiar.”
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