One Passionate Night's Miracle: One-Night Baby / The Surgeon's Miracle Baby / Outback Baby Miracle

‘I certainly threw it away on you!’

‘Is that what you’ll tell Francesca when she’s older?’ Santino demanded in a scathing reminder of Kate’s earlier accusation. He waited until he had the satisfaction of seeing the blood drain from her face and then informed her coldly, ‘I have arranged for lunch to be served on the terrace overlooking the lake. Your presence there will be solely to reassure Francesca.’ His voice was as cold as the ice around his heart. He showed Kate no mercy since she deserved none. ‘I suggest you pull yourself together before then. You must be calm when Francesca sees you.’

‘I’ll be calm, Santino,’ Kate assured him, grim-faced.

She would never back down. He knew that from the challenge flaring in her eyes. It made him rail against fate for wanting a woman like Kate Mulhoon, and made him rail against fate a second time because he couldn’t trust her or any woman on earth to be the mother of his child.

She couldn’t weaken now. The next few hours were crucial to Francesca’s future.

Kate had accepted that Santino was part of their lives, but she was equally determined he would not have everything his own way. When she met with his lawyer it was vital she made the right choices and said the right things. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t have been a problem—cool, analytical and determined was a fair description of her working manner. But this was a situation where emotion and love met head-on with a deep-seated need to protect her child and that might cloud her mind. She couldn’t risk it, she couldn’t allow herself to become exhausted or cowed by Santino and his legal team. She had to remain strong and keep her wits about her as she prepared for the battle of her life.

CHAPTER TWELVE

SOUND was cocooned in the panelled library, reducing the precise, sibilant tones of Santino’s lawyer to a disembodied stream of information. Kate sat across from him at a highly polished table to one side of the window, and it was taking all her strength of mind not to turn her head to look out to follow Francesca’s progress across the lawn, because Francesca was skipping along at Santino’s side holding onto his hand as if she had known him all her life.

‘Miss Mulhoon …’

Kate refocused, angling her head to show that she was listening. The lawyer spoke perfect English with only the trace of an Italian accent, and she could hardly accuse him of being unreasonable. He was being as gentle with her as if he had been her own advisor offering counsel following a bereavement, which in some ways this was. A part of her life had been lost for ever.

‘As you have requested, Miss Mulhoon, I have prepared a full set of papers for you. You must show them to your advisors on your return to England.’

Kate felt a quiver of apprehension and hesitated before accepting the envelope. In a moment of blind panic she had lied to Santino about knowing a good solicitor. She had never had occasion to use a lawyer before except at work, and they were contract lawyers, specialising in media work.

It was hard to believe things had come to this.

‘Thank you,’ she said with a flat smile, taking the papers she realised could only have been prepared so quickly if Santino had rung his lawyer the previous night.

That was so typical of Santino. He made a decision and acted immediately. He left nothing to chance—no loose ends, no second thoughts. It chilled Kate to think that a plan had been in place before Santino had even announced his intention to stay at the hotel. That was just another part of his strategy, she realised now, and was a reminder of the incisive mind behind the devastatingly handsome face. He made sure he was always the innocent party, the considerate party, the only one who always put Francesca first.

He must have rung the lawyer at home, Kate realised as the meeting drew to a close. Like everything else in his life, Santino Rossi had lawyers at his beck and call twenty-four hours a day. Such was the power of the man who had ranged himself against her, and she would do well to remember it. As far as Santino was concerned Francesca was the ultimate prize and even this meeting was just one more example to a sympathetic judge of his willingness to compromise and support the wayward single mother of his child.

The moment the meeting ended Kate went to find a quiet place where she could study in private the documents the lawyer had given her. She had been left with the nagging suspicion that by doing what she thought was best for Francesca she had compromised her position. She wasn’t weak and she wasn’t foolish, and she would fight for Francesca’s right to know both her parents, but Santino was ruthless and made a formidable enemy, one she didn’t possess the weapons to fight. Today’s meeting was about compromise, the lawyer had told her, but compromise was a tool Santino only ever wielded for his own benefit. He looked further than today’s battle and saw victory in a succession of cleverly constructed moves. She was just a pawn on his chessboard and unless she found a way to touch him before they reached a court of law she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Finding a door partially open off the hallway, Kate slipped inside. Sitting tensely on the edge of a sofa, she scanned each page trying to make sense of the legalese. The dates were clear enough, and as she made a quick calculation of the days when each of them would have Francesca she thought the visitation rights seemed quite reasonable. Pausing a moment, she mulled it over. Maybe Santino was right and she was overreacting … She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that things wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as she had feared.

Her gaze wandered to the window and her heart gave a ragged thump as she saw Francesca and Santino. They were just coming back to shore in a small rowing boat, the light wind ruffling Francesca’s curls and doing the same to her father’s thick black hair.

Kate looked away squeezing her eyes shut. She still loved him. She loved him so much that whatever Santino did to her she would always love him. Francesca was her life, but so was Santino … while in his life, she was nothing.

But she wouldn’t hide in the house. Was that what he expected? That she would leave her meeting with the lawyer with her head bowed and her spirit broken. Standing up, Kate firmed her jaw. Her little girl was laughing in the sunshine and that was where she wanted to be … outside in the fresh air with Francesca. Picking up her bag, Kate stuffed the documents inside. She would have to look at them more closely another time.

By the time Kate reached the lakeside Santino was just lifting Francesca from the boat and setting her down on the wooden pier that jutted out in the lake. The moment she saw Kate, Francesca came flying across the grass to greet her. Capturing Francesca’s momentum, Kate swung her high into the air. Francesca was bursting with excitement from everything she’d seen, including the island where she would be able to play pirates once she was older and had learned to sail.

Santino would be able to teach Francesca so many things, Kate reflected, smiling as she listened to the endless list of discoveries Francesca had made. If her daughter was happy she was happy—wasn’t that how it had always worked in the past?

Kate had to stamp on the longing that threatened to overwhelm her when Santino walked up to them. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t bear to see the expression of loathing on his face when he stared back at her. Her heart was so badly bruised she wasn’t ready for another knock yet.

‘Did your meeting go well?’ His voice was clipped, but, as always, cleverly pitched in front of Francesca.

‘Very well, thank you.’ A glance at Francesca reassured Kate that they were both successful in keeping their true feelings from her.

‘Good,’ Santino said with satisfaction.

Kate flashed him a look over Francesca’s head to let him know she was aware of all the risks she had run by falling in with his plan. The papers his lawyer had given her weighed heavily in her bag. Her secret hoard of misery, Kate thought bitterly, knowing there could be no going back. The legal machine was up and running, and as far as Santino was concerned the end of the journey was a foregone conclusion.

‘Come along,’ Francesca prompted, reaching for Kate’s hand, ‘We’re going to have ice cream. Gelato, ’ she added, pronouncing the new word proudly and distinctly.

‘Clever girl.’ Kate forced a smile, knowing this was the first of many new Italian words Francesca would soon be speaking.

‘You like ice cream, don’t you?’ Francesca pressed hopefully.

‘Yes … but Daddy wants to have some time alone with you,’ Kate explained as gently as she could. ‘You and I have lots of opportunities to eat ice cream together, Francesca.’ With every word Kate felt as if she were twisting a knife in her heart and Francesca’s tears of disappointment gave it an added twist. However hard she tried not to, she was in danger of spoiling Francesca’s day. She should have forgotten about putting on a brave show and stayed in the house out of the way.

‘There’s enough ice cream for everyone.’

Santino’s remark was to forestall any emotional blunder, Kate realised. He could always read her so accurately and knew she was on the brink. For once, she could only be grateful to him. The last thing she wanted to do was break down in front of Francesca.

It pierced Kate’s heart when Francesca smiled up at both of them, totally unaware of the deception they were playing out.

‘Don’t worry about me.’ Kate’s steady glance assured Santino that she was back under control. ‘I’ll have some ice cream with you another time, Francesca. I’ve got some things I must do.’ She turned to go and kept on smiling, but she hated it, she hated any form of deception where Francesca was concerned.

But Francesca wouldn’t take no for an answer and seized her hand. And then she took Santino’s hand so the three of them were linked.

She had to keep up the act, Kate told herself firmly. If Santino could do it, then so could she. But all the resolve in the world couldn’t ease the pain of a broken heart. She had wanted so much more than this.

Meredith was waiting for them on the raised patio. Standing beside an old-fashioned ice cream cart, she was waving a child-sized apron like a flag. Kate felt anger flood through her at the thought that this was how Francesca’s life was going to be from now on. What was wrong with a dish of ice cream, or an ice cream cornet, for goodness’ sake?

She had calmed down a little by the time Francesca had served them all beautifully, but Kate still couldn’t bring herself to meet Santino’s eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the adoration in his gaze when he stared at Francesca turn to cold contempt each time he looked at her.

There were heaters positioned on the patio to protect them from the slightest chill, but even so Kate shivered as she thought about her meeting with his lawyer and what it signified. Surely a child belonged with her mother? She had to believe that. She had to believe that any court would uphold that right.

‘Kate, a word, please …’

Kate jolted back to attention as Santino spoke to her and saw he was standing, waiting for her to go with him. What now? What demands, what threats, would he put in place? But even as she shrank from the prospect of more power play she yearned to be with him, to be close to him, to have the opportunity to try and reach beyond the coldness and find his heart.

Thanking Francesca for his ice cream, he promised to visit her stall again very soon, and then turned to make sure Kate was following him.

Kate was so eaten up by anxiety on her way back into the house that she almost stumbled. Santino was there to catch her. He steadied her, his touch on her arm a poignant reminder of the old intimacy between them.

Her heart was always ready to take him back, Kate realised, but she had to stop wasting time on hopeless daydreams and concentrate on securing the best possible outcome for Francesca.

‘Do you think Francesca is happy?’

They had taken up positions on opposite sides of Santino’s study and were facing each other.

‘Of course,’ Kate told him honestly. ‘Anyone can see how happy she is.’ Even as she spoke Kate was conscious that any innocent remark might work against her. Just by telling the truth she made it sound as if she were endorsing Santino’s desire to keep Francesca with him in Rome. She would have to be on guard every moment and watch every word she said.

‘And what do you think of my proposals regarding visitation rights? Do you think them fair?’