Italian Mavericks: New Year Temptation. Robyn GradyЧитать онлайн книгу.
I want,’ he said, ‘is for you and Charlotte to come and spend Christmas with me.’
Megan stared at him in disbelief, finally shaking her head. ‘You really think we’d do that? You think I’d let my daughter spend Christmas with a stranger?’
The jibe hurt; she could see it in his eyes, but she didn’t care. How dare he think he could walk in here and take over her life?
‘I’m not a stranger I am her father,’ he rasped, ‘and as such I have rights. You must know that. And if necessary I’ll implement those rights,’ he added harshly. ‘If you know what’s good for you you’ll accept that you have no alternative.’
He moved further into the room, halting a few menacing inches from her. Megan felt every hair on her skin prickle and she wanted to step back but she knew that she must show no fear or he would take advantage. Luigi could be ruthless. If he wanted something he went all out for it. She’d seen it enough times in his business life and knew that he’d be equally determined where his daughter was concerned. She was being hounded into a corner and wasn’t sure which way to turn.
When his big hands gripped her shoulders she felt a powerful sensation rush through her—anger, fear, desperation. All three! With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Megan pushed him away. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlotte sidling into the room—a scared-looking Charlotte.
‘Mummy,’ her daughter cried plaintively. ‘What’s that man doing to you?’
Megan immediately gathered the child into her arms. ‘Nothing, sweetheart.’
‘But I saw him touch you. Were you fighting?’
‘Of course not.’
‘So who is he? What’s he doing here?’
Megan could understand Charlotte’s questions because they never had any male visitors except Jenny’s boyfriend. There’d been no one in her life since Luigi, not because she’d been short of invitations; she simply wasn’t interested. Her daughter filled her every waking hour and Megan was completely happy—or she had been until a few minutes ago. Now she felt her happiness fading and worry begin to take its place.
It was ironic that Luigi should put in an appearance now—when Charlotte was crying out for a daddy. He had unknowingly timed his visit to perfection. And it looked as though he intended to do all in his power to take her beloved baby away from her. It was as clear in her head as water out of a tap that this was what he had in mind. He didn’t want her, he wanted Charlotte.
I’ve come to claim my daughter!
Those were his exact words and they struck chill in her heart as she recalled them. And because of that how could she explain to Charlotte that this was her father? He had no part to play in their lives. Not now, not ever! But how was she to get rid of him?
‘It looks as though Mummy isn’t going to tell you who I am,’ he said, looking down at the girl.
Megan shot him a warning glance because she knew what was going to come next, but her wishes were ignored.
‘I’m your father,’ he informed in a voice that held no love at all. It was a matter-of-fact statement and Megan could have cheerfully strangled him. He hadn’t changed one iota.
Charlotte hung on to Megan’s dressing gown, looking up at him shyly with an expression of awe and reverence on her face. ‘Did Santa send you?’ she asked in a tiny, breathless voice.
At that he smiled. ‘Indeed he did. He told me that there was a very special little girl looking for a daddy.’
Charlotte’s eyes were enormous as she turned to her mother. It was clear she thought that some miracle had happened. ‘Mummy, isn’t Santa wonderful?’
Megan forced herself to smile. ‘He always does his best, sweetheart, but it’s not Christmas yet, you know.’ What else could she say? How could she burst her daughter’s precious bubble of happiness? And how the hell had Luigi known?
‘It’s near enough,’ said Luigi. ‘How would you and your mummy like to come and spend Christmas with me? I have a great big house and you can help dress the Christmas tree and goodness knows how many presents you’ll find under it on Christmas Day.’
‘Luigi!’ Megan whispered through her teeth. This was emotional blackmail at its worst. Yes, he probably would ply Charlotte with presents, but what the little girl wanted more than anything in the world was a father who loved her, a father who showed his affection in every way possible. Buying a child’s love was inexcusable. And that was all he would do, all he would ever do.
And Charlotte was completely overwhelmed, hiding behind her mother’s skirts, very warily peeping at Luigi.
‘How dare you think you can walk in here after all these years and try to take over my life?’ said Megan coldly. ‘I have plans for Christmas; why should I change them because of a whim on your part?’
‘I can assure you it’s no whim,’ he told her brusquely. ‘I want both you and my daughter back where you belong. I’m giving you no choice.’
Luigi was angry, fiercely angry. His stomach was a tight, knotted ball and he wanted to lash out. He had felt bad enough when Megan left him, but for her to be carrying his child when she did so went beyond the pale. Had she hated him that much? Did she still hate him?
In truth, he hadn’t realised that anything had gone wrong with their marriage. Night after sleepless night he’d racked his brains for a possible reason and come up with nothing. He’d thought she was happy, she had no reason not to be. He was a good provider; she’d never been left wanting. He’d worked long hours, yes, but she understood that. It was the only way to get anywhere.
None of her friends or even her parents had known where she’d gone, and his search had proved fruitless. Not even the police could help him. He had immersed himself more deeply into his work, hoping that one day she would get in touch. Finally, though, he’d had to accept that their marriage was over. And he’d worked even harder.
When he’d seen her in his London store he’d been stunned, and when he had looked closely at the little girl he’d known at once that it was his child. He had an old photograph somewhere of his mother at the same age and there was a distinct likeness.
Megan had denied him his daughter and now she was trying to say that he had no rights to her. Lord, she really must hate him. What the hell had he done to her? Of one thing he was sure; he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. She was not going to walk out on him again.
‘I have no choice?’ she questioned now. ‘Believe me, no one, and that includes you, makes me do anything I don’t want to do.’
He admired the way she stood up for herself. Her bright eyes and prickly stance reminded him of an animal defending its young. And that was exactly what she was doing. But Charlotte was as much his as Megan’s.
‘Give me a reason why you don’t want to spend Christmas with me.’ He was sure she had none, except that she no longer loved him. But that was no excuse for depriving her daughter, his daughter. He’d never very much liked children, and he’d always worked over Christmas, but all of a sudden he found himself looking forward to taking a few days off and getting to know this beautiful little girl who kept peeping at him from behind her mother’s dressing gown.
He would shower her with presents, she would want for nothing, and it would be a Christmas filled with all the good things in life.
And after that? asked his conscience.
After that he would keep her with him, of course. It was her rightful place. Both Charlotte and Megan. He would accept nothing less.
‘The reason,’ she told him swiftly, ‘is that Charlotte doesn’t know you. And, to be quite honest, I