Riccardo's Secret Child

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Authors: Cathy Williams
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    â€˜If my nerves are frayed then you’re the reason!’ Julia sat down opposite him and his utter composure only served to fire her up more. ‘What did you think you were doing, telling Nicola that you and I…that you and I were going out together !’
    He took his time answering. He inspected the pale gold liquid in his glass, then tilted it to his lips so that he could swallow another mouthful.
    â€˜Did you think that you were going to have things all your own way?’ he asked softly. ‘You suggested that I don’t tell my own daughter who I am because it might destabilise her and she is already coping with the loss of her mother and your brother.’ He found that he could not bring himself to refer to Martin in any other way. ‘I respected that decision, but tell me this…how am I supposed to put in an appearance without her wondering who the hell I am? And why am I showing such a disproportionate interest in her when I am nothing to you?’
    â€˜She’s five years old! She’s hardly going to sit down and analyse the situation!’
    â€˜She might be five years old but she is not a fool!’ He leaned forward, his mouth a thin line of ruthless determination. ‘She was clever enough to ask me exactly who I was! What do you suggest I tell her? The plumber? And I will be back to pay another visit to take care of the leak? Oh, and by the way, I shall return with more presents? Do you imagine that she would have fallen for something like that?’
    â€˜I would have thought of something!’ Julia snapped back. ‘Eventually. When I thought the time was right.’
    â€˜Well, perhaps I am not prepared to play your waiting game, Miss Nash. No, Julia . Now that you and I are going out together.’
    â€˜We are not going out together!’ The way he had said her name. Like a caress. It had stolen over her heated skin and something else had thudded through her. It was something Julia had no intention of focusing on. Instead, she rose to her feet, muttering under her breath, and poured herself a glass of wine.
    â€˜And by the way,’ she ranted, one hand on her hip, the other holding her full glass, ‘make yourself at home, whydon’t you? Just waltz along and help yourself to the drinks!’
    Riccardo looked at her and felt his lips begin to twitch into a smile. The picture she presented! All ruffled outrage, cheeks flushed, her rimless spectacles glinting furiously in the light, five foot three of womanly fury. He had seen many women and in many different lights, but this sort of outspoken fury, unrelated to anything sexual, was a first.
    â€˜Are you going to sit down and listen to what I have to say or are you going to stand there exploding?’
    â€˜Has anyone told you that you, Mr Fabbrini, are an arrogant swine?’
    Riccardo carefully considered the question. ‘No, but then you might want to remember that perhaps my arrogance has to do with the situation you have thrust upon me.’
    Julia muttered again, but sat down and drank a long, soothing mouthful of her wine.
    â€˜I have to get to know my daughter. Gradually. For that, I have to have a reason to visit her, if you don’t want her to know who I am. What better way to visit on a regular basis than in the guise of your lover?’
    Julia felt a steady heat begin to pulse in her veins. His eyes roved lazily over her flushed face.
    â€˜That way, I can get to know her. I can be allowed the chance to know my own daughter. To bring her the presents I have been denied the pleasure of doing for five years, to hold her hand in mine, to receive her trust. Because she loves and trusts you and it might make it easier for her to accept me through you.’
    His deep, slightly accented voice washed over Julia, filling the corners of her body like incense. She was dimly aware that he was being reasonable.
    â€˜And it is not as though I am competing with

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