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

‘I sacked Marge before I picked up the phone to you.’

‘You did?’ A smile of approval touched Kate’s lips. It was an unwritten rule that Caddy did any dirty work that had to be done. ‘We’ll stay in touch. Keep your phone handy and I’ll let you know when the plane lands.’

Back at the small company apartment Kate occasionally used when she was working late during the week she stuffed some clothes into an overnight bag. Everything she was taking to Rome was of the rinse-out-and-hang-over-the-bath-to-dry variety, and she didn’t plan on staying long. Time was tight if she was going to catch the flight, but that wasn’t the only reason her heart was thundering. Thinking about Santino was all it ever took to do that.

It was over five years since Santino and his film crew had breezed into the small English town where Kate had lived with her parents. Five years since the most darkly dangerous-looking men Kate had ever seen had invaded Westbury with a view to using it as a possible location for their next film. All that swarthy Italian testosterone had cut a swathe through the local whey-faced youths. What competition could Wellington boots and anoraks provide to stylish jeans and snug-fitting tops? Shifting eye-lines of uncertain boys to the fierce, full-on stare of a confident Latin male?

It made Kate shiver even now to think about it. It was as if some fabulous circus had breezed into town. It was no wonder the local girls had swooned … no wonder she had thrown caution to the wind and joined them.

Some cruel trick of fate had compounded her foolishness when the film crew had chosen to stay at Slade Hall, the manor house where Kate had been working part-time as a waitress to fund her studies. She’d had no idea that the tallest and most stunning of all the men was in fact the film producer and Italian industrialist, Santino Rossi. She knew now from the newspapers that Santino liked to remain anonymous whenever possible. That was how he had come to hear her confiding to one of her prettier colleagues at the hall that there was one luscious Italian male for each of the girls—Kate had counted them.

Her own fate had been sealed the moment Santino Rossi had walked up to her and smiled. He had chosen her? It had seemed incredible to her at the time … impossible. And how was she supposed to resist the opportunity of a lifetime? Was virginity so precious you couldn’t spend it on a man who looked as though he had been born to please a woman? It had taken Kate about two seconds to decide she didn’t want to lose hers to some spotty youth on the back seat of his car. If Santino Rossi was the only highlight in her life and no others came along she would die happy.

But she had been only eighteen, and reckless. She hadn’t paused to consider the consequences. She’d been too hungry for adventure.

Kate couldn’t even pretend to put a veil of respectability over her actions now. She had been quite shameless. She had watched Santino all night as she’d worked, and when he’d vetoed the bar after dinner in favour of going straight to his room Kate had slipped away and followed him. Snatching up a tray with a jug of coffee and a cup and saucer, she had made that her excuse to knock on his door. Widening her eyes, she had informed him that the manager had sent her up with the coffee Signor Rossi had neglected to order in the restaurant. Laughing black eyes had suggested Santino knew she was lying, but he had invited her in anyway.

Showing no more subtlety than she had, he’d told her where to put the tray down and then backed her up against the wall. Planting one arm either side of her face, Santino had kissed her in a way she had only seen in films … gently and persuasively to begin with so that her whole body ached for him, and then deepening the kiss until all possibility of stepping back from the brink had been erased from her mind.

The fire that had flared between them that night had been so great that at no time could Santino have guessed she was a virgin. And if it had hurt for a moment when they had come together, it had been worth it for the pleasure that had come afterwards. Pleasure that even now had the power to make her long for his touch.

And it was time that dangerous daydream was over, Kate told herself firmly, locking the catches on her case. Thinking about Santino Rossi’s touch was out of bounds if she stood the remotest chance of catching her flight. Taking a last glance around to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything Kate swung her bag onto her shoulder and set off for Rome.

He’d got the word about the trouble from Carlo, the sparks on set. Santino’s hard mouth firmed even more as he pictured Carlo, a man in his seventies, making the unpalatable decision to blow the whistle on his colleagues. Things had to be bad for the old man to make the call, which was why he had cancelled all his meetings and was heading out to the film studio now.

He had Carlo to thank for the information that, on top of a negligent director and a leaderless crew, his leading lady’s new manager had turned up and thrown her gauntlet into the ring. He didn’t need a second warning that everything would descend into chaos if he didn’t get back fast.

Santino’s mouth set in a grim line as he contemplated what the next few hours held for him. As he never tired of reminding himself, artistic types were unpredictable and difficult. The director he had hired for the film was said to be the best. The best what? Santino wondered now. He would have to fire him as soon as he got to the set. Fortunately he had now been able to hire his original director of choice after the film she had been working on had finished ahead of time. So until she arrived Santino would take charge. Inconvenient but unavoidable.

Receiving the go-ahead from the control tower, Santino nosed his Gulfstream G550 into position on the runway. Opening the throttle on the twin Rolls-Royce BR710 engines, he released the brakes.

Arriving on set, he got the back view first and felt his hackles rise. The intruder was a woman, a very young woman … and dressed as if she were ready to take a pre-school class in her drip-dry blouse and neatly tailored suit. But there was something different about this ’school ma’am‘—she had that certain something that made people listen to her. But that didn’t stop indignation rising in his craw. Who did she think she was, talking to his people without his direct instruction? There was nothing to recommend her apart from a shimmering fall of honey-coloured hair. In her sensible low-heeled shoes and high street suit, she looked dowdy. She didn’t belong on a film set. She didn’t belong on his film set.

He took some pleasure from the fact that everyone else had noticed his arrival and was standing to attention while she was oblivious to him … She’d get it in a minute.

As it happened it took her less time than that to realise she had lost the attention of her audience. She couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, he realised as she turned around. And then it hit him like a fist in the gut. He knew her!

CHAPTER TWO

SANTINO saw the recoil in her eyes as if she had recognised him in the same instant, but she quickly rallied, and held his stare.

It was a wonder he recognised her. She looked quite different now. He wondered what had happened in the five years since their last memorable encounter. He didn’t like puzzles. When things appeared different than they should he knew it was a warning.

‘This is a closed set. No visitors allowed.’ His tone was uncompromising, and he fully expected to rattle her. He expected her to frown, flinch, do something.

‘I’m here to protect the interests of my client Cordelia Mulhoon,’ she told him coolly.

Clear grey eyes stared back at him without a flicker of fear from a face that was far lovelier than he remembered, a face that made him frown as he processed the visual information. The features were chiselled now, and, however cruelly scraped back, her waist-length hair was still magnificent. Her lips were firm and full, and only her eyes might have been considered too large in the piquant, heart-shaped face, had they not been tinted such a mild grey.

Mild grey? That was a joke! The last time they’d met those mild grey eyes had been flashing fire at him, and those sculpted lips hid pearl-white teeth that could give a man one hell of a nip. Just thinking about it now made him hard. She was a woman he had never expected to see again, a woman he had never forgotten, a woman who by some quirk of fate represented the star of his film, a woman who for some reason had chosen to hide her wild side beneath the deceptively subtle shades of a mouse. Of the flighty fun-lover there was no sign … unless she was playing him like a fish on a rod, of course.

How she was holding it together Kate had no idea. Santino Rossi was Francesca’s father, a fact that made her mind reel. The father of her beautiful little girl, and he didn’t know it. Only the need to keep her thoughts and feelings hidden gave her the strength to stare him in the eyes. And they were dark, intuitive eyes that could so easily lay bare her soul.

She had never forgotten him. How could she? His face was as familiar to her now as if they had never been apart … the aquiline nose and ebony winged brows, and the thick, coal-black hair he still wore a little too long. The rough shading of stubble on his cheeks only reminded her how good it felt when he raked it against her skin, and his ridiculously sensual mouth brought back memories of pleasure so intense her whole being had started to respond.

It was dangerous to still want him so badly, and there was something in his eyes and in the tug of self-assurance at the corner of his mouth that warned her to be careful. She wasn’t the person Santino thought he knew. There was a whole world of difference between Kate Mulhoon today and the girl Santino Rossi had taken to his bed. Somehow she had to make him see that. But it wouldn’t be easy when they knew every inch of each other intimately.

‘I’m here in response to my client’s urgent request.’ Kate held his gaze, determined to keep the conversation confined to business. She wasn’t ready to tell him about Francesca, and this was hardly the time. She knew his body, but she didn’t know the man. Santino Rossi was still a stranger to her. She didn’t know what kind of father he would make for their daughter.

‘Very well.’ The tension in his shoulders eased fractionally. ‘I am also concerned, which is why I’m here.’

He sounded almost reasonable, but would that change when he discovered he had a four-year-old child?

‘I suggest we move to somewhere quieter …’ He gestured towards a group of chairs the actors used when they weren’t needed on the set. ‘We’ll be out of the way and can have a preliminary chat.’

‘Thank you.’

‘We will both need to speak to Cordelia in depth,’ he said once they were settled, ‘and get to the bottom of this problem before we hold a proper meeting.’

A proper meeting? Kate’s heart began to thunder. She didn’t want time alone with him. She couldn’t risk a question and answer session.

It was too late now to wish she had told him the moment she’d realised she was pregnant. Back then she had still been reeling from her parents’ rejection, and no sooner had she and Francesca settled in Meredith’s farmhouse than a story had broken in the press that had rocked Kate’s world. It had stoked the fires of the gossipmongers yet again, making Kate retreat further into herself.

It was said that while Santino Rossi had been in England he had fathered a child. Santino hadn’t let it rest there, and had taken the supposed mother of his child to court, exposing her as a fraud. Kate’s face had burned with the same humiliation as the woman’s family on the day the girl had been discredited, and she had been riveted to the television screen when the shamefaced young woman had been ushered out of court.

Seeing one woman exposed for a gold-digger had made Kate all the more determined to start paying her way the moment Francesca could be left. When Meredith had identified an opportunity with a theatrical agency in London and offered to care for Francesca, Kate had known it was her chance to hold her head up high again and save some money for Francesca’s future. She had also known she couldn’t risk a long-running court battle with a man like Santino Rossi, and so she had erased him from her life, if not her conscience.

Kate’s little girl Francesca was surrounded by the love of her family at Meredith’s warm and happy farmhouse where she was untouched by all the ugliness in the world, and she was growing up unspoiled the way Kate wanted her to. As Francesca was just a defenceless child it was up to Kate to make decisions for her, and so now she took the only path she could. She didn’t know the man she had slept with. She didn’t know what Santino Rossi cared about, or if he cared about anything other than himself. The world of film was a fascinating place, but not all the characters inhabiting that world were entirely stable. Until she knew more about Santino Rossi the man, she would not trust him with the knowledge that they had a child together.

After their brief chat Kate watched Santino on the set. Everyone responded well to him, and had she been meeting him for the first time she might have been impressed. He had reacted as quickly as she had at the first sign of trouble on the lot, dropping everything to come and sort it out. It made her want to trust him, but could she do that after so short an acquaintance? Could she trust her own judgement after what had happened five years ago? She wouldn’t risk Francesca’s happiness on a whim in the same way she had risked her own.

Kate could feel Santino assessing her in the same way she was weighing him up and felt her face burn when their gazes clashed. How could she ignore the fact that time had only improved upon perfection? Apart from silver wings creeping into his thick dark hair Santino appeared stronger and more virile than ever. He belonged on the big screen, rather than behind it, but she could not allow herself to be swayed by Santino’s good looks, or by his blatant sex appeal. She wasn’t eighteen now. She was a grown woman with responsibilities. She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for him.

The crew weren’t even listening to their conversation, Santino realised, though it should have raised some interest, surely? Whatever she had been saying to them must have worked because everyone was going quietly about their business. Relieved to have the burden of decision-making taken from their shoulders, he guessed. The thought drew his gaze back to her and to her slender shoulders … too slender to bear a burden, their shape was clearly discernible beneath the cheap fabric of her blouse. A quick mental sketch of her naked body lit an old fire that invoked another strong physical reaction, and that in turn warned him to keep his gaze firmly fixed upon her face in future.

He felt like a caged lion. She made him feel like a caged lion. He was used to taking charge; he didn’t sit on the sidelines. It seemed incredible to him that a mere scrap of a girl could come in and take over his film set.

A scrap of a girl with big ideas, maybe.

Santino’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Kate. He’d had trust issues since the day his mother had gone shopping and never come back. At six years old that made quite an impression on you. Women were all the same in his experience, which was why he had never married. They all bailed out when they discovered his personal bank was closed to them. But this one was an enigma. She hadn’t put all the goods on display with a price tag on her bosom like the rest. Rather the opposite. She had made no effort whatever to remind him of the time they’d spent together five years ago, which, perversely, he found insulting. It challenged something deep inside him that suggested she should make more effort when he was around.

Santino felt a mounting sense of possession as Kate stared back at him. After the night they’d had how long did she think she could hang onto the role of buttoned-up spinster? Her ringless hands hadn’t escaped his gaze …

Which was all too much distraction when there was work to be done. Of his director there was no sign, which didn’t concern him unduly since that useless piece of excess baggage was about to be fired. But he would handle one problem at a time. His attention switched back to Kate and he couldn’t have been more surprised when she seized the initiative.

‘I think you’ll find everyone is happy with the arrangements I have made,’ she told him confidently.

And then she stared at him, waiting for his endorsement of her actions as if she already worked for him, clearly unaware that she was treading on hot cinders around the lip of a volcano.