The Italian's Love-Child. Emma Darcy

looked back at her with a searing blaze of unwavering resolution. ‘If I have to, yes.’

      Her heart turned over. All her resistance to him melted under the heat of wildly hopeful desires, suddenly let loose from the restrictions she had placed on them. He reached out and took her hand, interlacing her fingers with his, gripping hard, and it felt as though he was providing an anchor that would hold her from breaking adrift in any storm.

      ‘Don’t doubt my commitment to you and Matt, Skye,’ he said, his voice a low throb that drummed on and on in her head. ‘Don’t doubt it for a second.’

      The referee’s whistle blew, alerting them to the start of Matt’s game. The soccer ball was kicked from the centre line and then there was a blur of boys racing after it. Skye was far too conscious of Luc’s grip on her to concentrate on picking Matt out of the melee.

      She could not stop herself from wanting this link with him. It felt good—warm, firm, secure. Maybe it was because she’d been alone for too long and Luc was Matt’s father. He was also the only man she had ever loved and he was here for her, here for the child they’d made together, too. They should be together.

      ‘Go for it, Matt!’

      Luc’s yell snapped Skye out of her thoughts. She saw Matt streaking ahead of the other boys, chasing down the ball which had been kicked towards the goal-posts. He reached it first, dribbled it away from the reach of the goalie who had run out to pick it up, then shot it into the net.

      ‘Goal!’ Luc yelled, releasing Skye’s hand to throw his arms up in accolade to Matt’s triumph—a triumph that beamed from his little boy face as he turned to see if they’d been watching and he instantly copied Luc’s action, the shared joy of it making the triumph even better.

      Skye clapped so hard her hands hurt. ‘Well done, Matt!’ she called and he trotted back proudly to the centre of the field to start play again.

      ‘That’s our son!’ Luc said just as proudly, throwing one of his lowered arms around Skye’s shoulders and hugging her close. ‘Fastest boy on the field and proving he’s a striker.’

      What if he’d been the slowest and a dud at soccer, Skye thought. But he wasn’t so there was no point in thinking it. She doubted Matt was going to be a dud at anything. He was Luc’s son.

      And hers.

      Parents together.

      Luc rubbed his cheek over her hair and murmured, ‘Marry me, Skye. This is how it should be.’

      She wanted to say yes. Being held so close to him, her whole body yearned for the intimacy that could bind them much closer. But the fears she had of consequences could not be banished.

      ‘Give it time, Luc,’ she muttered, ducking her head to break the yearning she felt coming from the caress of his cheek.

      ‘Well, at least that’s not a no,’ he said on a sigh of satisfaction, and dropped his arm from her shoulder to take her hand again, squeezing it possessively. ‘I’m here to stay, Skye. The sooner you realise that, the sooner we can become a family.’

      That might be true.

      But Skye couldn’t bring herself to risk making any commitment to him when they’d only spent a couple of days together.

      There was a long future ahead of them.

      Let Luc prove what he said.

      CHAPTER NINE

      LUC rolled up the designs for the new apartment complex he’d been working on and set about clearing his desk. Today was the last day of Matt’s first school term. Tomorrow was Good Friday. Soccer on Saturday. And on Monday…an elated grin broke out on his face at the thought of it…on Monday he was flying Skye and Matt up to the Gold Coast in Queensland for a family vacation.

      Skye’s lack of trust in him had been his trump card in breaking down her resistance to the plan. As a separated parent, he was entitled to have his son for a week of any school vacation. A family law court would certainly grant it to him. It was an argument that couldn’t be refuted but she was afraid of how he might use the time with Matt.

      The power of the Peretti family weighed on her mind and he couldn’t blame her for worrying about what might happen if he introduced Matt to them behind her back. Not that he would, and the fear wasn’t spoken, but her tension over letting Matt out of her sight for so long and the very negative emphasis she’d previously laid on his family background, left Luc in no doubt about how she thought and felt.

      It also assured him she would be tempted by his invitation to supervise every moment Matt was with him. He’d produced an internet printout on the three-bedroom penthouse apartment he’d booked, plus printouts on the major tourist attractions they could take Matt to—Sea World, Warner Bros. Movie World, Dream World…a family fun vacation all laid out to both of them so Matt’s eagerness for his mother to accompany them, and the lure of sharing in her son’s new adventures, added to the winning package.

      ‘Three bedrooms,’ she’d said pointedly, denying the other temptation he had very much on his mind.

      ‘Definitely three,’ he assured her, though he privately wanted only two to be used.

      He intended a very deliberate seduction this time—no driven quickness about any of the lovemaking. Once he had Skye contentedly sharing his bed, feeling thoroughly loved, the step to marriage should not be such a difficult one for her to take. He wanted her as his wife. And Matt was not the only child he wanted to have.

      He fiercely resented having missed out on his son’s birth, his babyhood, the toddler years. After he and Skye were married… Luc checked his own eagerness as he realised he knew nothing about how Matt’s birth had been for her, whether she would be keen to have more children.

      They’d had such little private time to talk—mostly small snatches he’d deliberately manoeuvred. Skye avoided being alone with him whenever she could. Avoidance, however, would be much more difficult for her while staying in the same apartment for a week. After Matt went to bed…

      Luc’s train of thought was abruptly broken by his father’s unheralded arrival—no call from his secretary, the office door swept open, and in he stepped with all the arrogant hauteur of a man who took authority as though it was his right.

      Luc felt himself bristling into attack mode and deliberately adopted a relaxed air, leaning back in the chair behind his desk and viewing his father with whimsical curiosity. ‘To what do I owe the honour of this visit?’ he drawled.

      Since their confrontation over Skye at the Bellevue Hill mansion two months ago, they had only met in boardroom meetings with nothing but business on the agenda. Only current and future property development projects were discussed between them, across a table with all other heads of departments present.

      His father viewed him now with barely contained impatience, obviously frustrated by Luc’s stubborn and rebellious stand against conforming to expectations. ‘We will be celebrating Easter Sunday as usual this year,’ he stated tersely.

      Which meant a big gathering of Italian families for a highly festive lunch. ‘I’m glad Mamma feels up to it,’ Luc answered dryly.

      His father’s mouth tightened in anger. ‘I’m amazed you have any consideration for her feelings since you haven’t seen fit to give her the comfort of a visit or a call.’

      ‘I’ve been too long on a one-way street with consideration of feelings, Dad. When it starts to go two ways…’

      ‘She is still grieving over Roberto.’

      ‘Then I’m not the son she wants with her, am I?’

      ‘You are the only son she has now.’

      ‘Don’t expect me to dance to that tune. Especially not on Roberto’s grave.’

      ‘He was your brother.’ The emphatic reminder was meant to sting and it did.