The Italian's Love-Child. Emma Darcy

giving his brother what he’d believed was all his, only his, the gift of herself in loving abandonment. Somehow he had to persuade her she could trust him with that gift again. Somehow…

      ‘A trust fund was set up for the child’s support and education,’ his father stated, the leather of his chair creaking as he resumed his seat behind the desk to wait for the solicitor’s arrival.

      If that was true, there could not have been an instruction to abort the child. Not from his father. Yet Luc would not disbelieve Skye. So where had the instruction come from? Had one of his father’s underlings decided that cutting corners would be the best result for his boss?

      ‘All she had to do was apply in writing for funds to become available,’ his father went on tersely, hating being in a defensive position.

      ‘Then why didn’t she?’ Luc challenged, not bothering to even glance over his shoulder.

      No answer to that.

      Luc deduced the solicitor had told his father the file had not been re-opened since it had first been set up. It was the only answer that made sense of what he knew about Skye’s life. Certainly she was not aware of any trust fund.

      There was a drumming of fingertips on the highly polished desk. Then came the first line of counterattack to the accusation of irredeemable guilt where caring for a grandchild was concerned.

      ‘I dealt with the stepfather. Everything was worked through him. You said he did a flit before she had the child. If what you say about her circumstances is true, he must have scammed the money and never told her about the trust fund.’

      The stepfather…neatly removing all responsibility from himself. But not blame, Luc thought viciously. None of this would have happened without his father’s controlling hand behind it.

      ‘Then you made a huge mistake of judgement in trusting him, didn’t you?’ he mocked. ‘As well as not caring enough to check up on what was happening to my child.’

      ‘Luc…’ It was a brusque appeal, looking for some foothold on a meeting ground where he could twist around to regain some credibility.

      ‘Let’s wait for the file to arrive. That might…’ He half-turned to stare long and hard at the man who had interfered so intolerably with what should have been. ‘… might…’ he bit out warningly, ‘…go some little way to restoring a viable relationship between us.’

      ‘You’re my son. What was done was done for—’

      ‘Don’t say for me. You weren’t thinking of me. Nor Skye. Nor our child. You were thinking of what you wanted. When you stop thinking of what you want and start respecting what I want, perhaps we’ll have something to talk about.’

      ‘I’m giving you what you want. I called John to bring you the proof…’

      ‘Step One.’

      His chin came up aggressively. ‘What is Step Two?’

      ‘You will immediately start revising your attitude towards Skye Sumner. If you speak once more of her in any kind of deprecatory manner, I will walk out and I won’t come back.’

      He grimaced but didn’t argue. ‘Is there a Step Three?’

      ‘Step Three is full acceptance of her and our son in my life. That means no undermining act behind my back. And believe me, I’ll know about it if you so much as raise a finger to interfere between us again.’

      A giving gesture was waved. ‘If you want to take an interest in the boy…’

      ‘Not just the boy. I intend to do everything within my power to persuade Skye Sumner to marry me.’

      Shock cracked the facade of appeasement. ‘Surely there’s no need for that.’ The words whipped out of him. ‘I can understand about the boy…’

      The violence Luc had held in check erupted, his body jerking into action, his legs closing the distance between them so fast, everything was a blur except the need to punch home his point. His fist crashed down on the desk, making his father flinch back in his chair.

      ‘Understand me!’ His eyes blazed unshakeable resolution as he reinforced it with all the turbulent passion stirred by the situation. ‘Skye Sumner should have been my wife. I want her as my wife. And I will have her as my wife.’

      CHAPTER FOUR

      NOTHING felt safe anymore.

      Skye told herself that was another reason why she had to meet Luc Peretti this morning. Ever since the solicitor had come, showing her all the legal documents and the private investigator’s report on her stepfather, she had been feeling the power of the Peretti family closing around her, squeezing for a claim on Matt. She had to find out what their aim was—the end goal.

      Right from her first encounter with Luc two weeks ago, she’d been afraid he wouldn’t just walk away. Now she knew he’d confronted his father and moved relentlessly to demonstrate how terribly deceived she’d been by her stepfather. But that didn’t make the Peretti family right in what they’d done, she argued to herself.

      Her pulse kicked in shock as she glanced at the clock and saw it was already nine-thirty.

      She had to get moving.

      A last check in the door mirror of her bedroom showed she had eaten off some of her lipstick, probably from nervously chewing at her lips. Her hand was shaking as she quickly replenished it. Stupid to worry about her appearance, she thought. It didn’t make any difference to what would happen.

      Luc’s mother would probably sniff her disapproval of the cheap cotton sundress she wore, but she wasn’t meeting Luc’s mother and never would again. It had been the hottest summer on record in Australia and even though it was now mid-March, the weather still hadn’t cooled. She had a half-hour walk ahead of her and the sundress should keep her from feeling overheated and sticky at the meeting with Luc.

      She’d pulled her long hair into a clip at the back of her neck and she quickly jammed the wide-brimmed straw hat on her head, slid her feet into comfortable sandals, grabbed her sunglasses and handbag, and left the house, her heart fluttering uncontrollably over having to deal with the man who knew he was Matt’s father.

      At least, he hadn’t asked for Matt to accompany her. In fact, there had been no threatening pressure attached to his request for a meeting, as relayed by the solicitor. The choice of time and place had been hers and it was to be just the two of them.

      The request had seemed reasonable, the meeting necessary, given the dreadful fraud her stepfather had perpetrated, including forging her signature on some papers, using her pregnancy to extort the awesome sum of money from the Peretti family.

      One hundred thousand dollars!

      Her mind still boggled over it.

      And the cheque Luc had written to cover the loss of it was burning a hole in her handbag. It had been attached to all the other papers the solicitor had left with her, but she couldn’t keep it. Firstly, the money had been stolen by her stepfather, not by Luc. Just because it was irrecoverable didn’t make it right for her to accept full replacement of it.

      Besides, if she was to stick to her independent stance, she had to return the cheque, and meeting Luc was the most direct, most telling way to accomplish it. She had to make it clear to him that she hadn’t asked for money and didn’t want it now. None of it. No way could she use the trust fund. It would tie Matt to the Peretti family, and she didn’t believe that was a good connection for him at all.

      Tainted money.

      Better not to owe the Peretti family anything.

      She could manage to bring up Matt by herself.

      Skye bolstered this determination with every step she took towards the meeting place—the waterfront park, directly across from the Brighton-Le-Sands Novotel Hotel, a public area which she could check out before showing