Saving His Little Miracle. Jennifer Taylor

swore under his breath as he stepped out of the stall. Drying himself on one of the huge white bath towels, he strode into his bedroom and flung open the wardrobe doors. He needed clothes that would say the right thing, give the right impression. Running shorts and a vest certainly hadn’t helped. He needed something more formal, clothes that would help to protect his mind as well as cover his body. He needed to feel like himself when he saw Lowri again, not like this person he had turned into, the one who couldn’t make decisions.

      What if he refused and Megan died—how would he feel then? Could he live with the thought that he might have been able to save her?

      His hand stilled. He could feel his heart thumping, feel the blood pounding in his temples. He had sworn a solemn oath when he had qualified as a doctor that he would do everything in his power to uphold life, yet he was contemplating letting his own child die.

      What sort of a man did that make him? What kind of a person? Maybe he hadn’t expected to find himself in this position but if it was true, if the child was his, how could he turn his back on her? Yet if he did agree, and he and Lowri had another child, what kind of an impact would it have on his life? Would he be able to cope with fatherhood or would he turn out exactly like his own father had been, full of resentment and bitterness? Did he really want any child to have to endure the sort of loveless childhood he’d had?

      His face was set as he reached into the wardrobe and took out a pair of chinos. He slipped them on then opened a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and dragged it over his head. What he wore was irrelevant. What mattered more was that he did what was right, not just what was right for him but right for them all—him, Lowri and Megan. His daughter.

      His breath caught because it was no longer a question of maybe but definitely. He knew the child was his flesh and blood, knew it with a certainty that would have shocked him before today. He never accepted anything at face value normally. He always checked that any facts presented to him were correct. However, in his heart he knew that Megan was his daughter and the fact that he was prepared to accept it as the truth scared him. If he relied on emotions rather than proof, he would never be in control of this situation.

      Vincenzo left the bedroom, taking his time as he made his way downstairs while he assembled his thoughts. Instinct was all well and good but he refused to allow it to take over. There was a lot to discuss if he and Lowri were to work out a solution to this dilemma.

      His mind skipped ahead, presenting him with a scene that made his blood heat, and he groaned. Thinking about making love to Lowri was the last thing he should be doing when he needed a clear head! He took a steadying breath then opened the door to the salone, frowning when he discovered the room was empty. Where was she? Surely she hadn’t left?

      He swung round then stopped when he saw her crossing the hall. She was wearing a sundress, pale green cotton with narrow straps at the shoulders and a full skirt. Vincenzo found himself thinking how much it suited her, the colour bringing out the golden lights in her brown hair and making her hazel eyes appear greener than ever. With it she was wearing a pair of leather sandals and he felt his stomach muscles clench when he saw the gleam of fresh polish on her toenails. For some reason he found it incredibly touching that she had dressed with such care for this meeting. Lowri was prepared to do anything it took to save her daughter. Even if it meant sleeping with him. Now he had to decide if he was as brave as her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THEY SAT OUTSIDE on the terrace. Lowri much preferred it there to the stiff formality of the salone with its antique furniture and priceless objets d’art and she was glad when Vincenzo suggested it. Now, as she looked around the gardens, she felt some of the tension seep out of her. Maybe it was foolish to see it as a positive sign that he would agree to her request, but at least he was prepared to listen to her.

      ‘Who’s looking after the chil... Looking after Megan while you’re here?’

      Lowri’s mouth curved into a tiny smile as he corrected himself. Another positive step. ‘My sister, Cerys. She’s looked after Megan since she was a baby when I went back to work.’

      ‘You returned to work soon after she was born?’ Vincenzo queried, his dark brows drawing into a frown.

      ‘When she was six months old.’ Lowri shrugged, refusing to let him see how guilty she felt about having to leave her daughter at such a tender age. ‘Needs must, and I needed to work to support us.’

      ‘I see.’ He glanced across the lawn, his eyes resting on the glimmering vista of the lake just visible through the trees. ‘So you and your fiancé didn’t resolve your differences?’

      ‘No.’ Lowri didn’t elaborate. Although she had told Vincenzo the whole sorry tale five years ago, she didn’t intend to go over it again. If she was honest, she still felt foolish about allowing Jonathan to deceive her. He had promised her the earth—a home and a family, the happily-ever-after every woman dreamt about. Unfortunately, the one thing he had failed to mention was that he was already married.

      ‘It must have been difficult for you, Lowri. Working and caring for a baby can’t have been easy. You must have resented being burdened with such a problem.’ His voice was flat and she frowned, wondering at his choice of words.

      ‘It hasn’t been easy and especially not this past year. But Megan has never been a burden. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, if you want the truth.’

      ‘Really?’ He sounded so surprised that she frowned this time.

      ‘Yes, really. She’s a happy and contented little girl who gets up to all sorts of mischief.’ She laughed. ‘Last year I had the paddling pool out in the garden and she used her watering can to fill my wellies with water. I only realised it when I put them on!’

      ‘And were you cross with her?’ he asked, studying her face with an odd intensity.

      ‘Of course not! I couldn’t possibly have been cross when it was so funny.’ Her expression sobered abruptly. ‘I only wish she was well enough to get up to that sort of mischief these days.’

      ‘She will be. I’m sure she’ll be doing all sorts of naughty things very soon.’

      He touched her hand, his fingers making only the briefest contact before he drew away, but Lowri still felt her breath catch. It was the first time he had willingly touched her since that night five years ago and she felt dizzy with the rush of sensations that thought aroused. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on what was happening. There was no point dwelling on the past when it was the present that mattered. However, it appeared that Vincenzo still had questions he wanted answered.

      ‘You said that you sent me a letter when you discovered you were pregnant. Was it true?’

      ‘Of course it was true!’ She sat up straighter, realising that she was in danger of forgetting just how tenuous her position really was. Whilst Vincenzo might seem more receptive to what she had to say, it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that he would agree to help her.

      She blanked out the thought of what would need to happen if he were to agree. It was stupid to feel even the slightest hint of distaste. She had thought it all through and she was sure that asking him to donate sperm was the best thing to do. After all, she knew nothing about his life these days, if he was in a relationship or had remarried even. The last thing she wanted was to create problems for him so artificial insemination seemed like the best way forward.

      Anyway, she certainly didn’t intend to sleep with him again. She had been bitterly hurt by his rejection and had no intention of placing herself in the same position again, even though, if she was honest, it hadn’t been an unpleasant experience at the time. Her cheeks burned at the thought and she hurried on.

      ‘I wrote to you, Vincenzo, and sent the letter to your apartment in Milan. I don’t know why you didn’t receive it but I definitely sent it.’

      ‘Neither do I,’ he began flatly, and then stopped.

      ‘What?’ Lowri demanded, because it was obvious that he