The Italian's Secret Baby (17 page)

She was in too much of a panic to notice when Roman left the car without comment. He opened the passenger door with Sam secured against his hip with his free arm. He looked at her pale face.

‘They'll love you.'

‘Says you,' she hissed back, wishing she could share even a fraction of his daunting assurance.

Roman seemed to lack any insight into her feelings. Didn't he understand what it felt like to be here under sufferance, the woman that came with the grandchild they wanted—a package deal?

She slid out of her seat and pinned a smile on her face, very conscious that his parents were now close enough to hear what they were saying.

Even so they wouldn't have heard what Roman said when he bent close, his lips almost brushing her ear; she barely caught the husky words herself.

‘Well, if they don't love you, remember I do, and that's what counts.'

All Scarlet had time to do was shoot him a stunned slack-jawed look before they were knee-deep in hugs and introductions.

It was ironic considering how much she had been dreading this meeting, and how carefully she had planned what she was going to say down to the last detail and inflection, that when it arrived she didn't have the faintest idea what she said or whom she said it to!

The whole thing passed by in a blur, a dream. Her mind was elsewhere.

He said he loved me.

It was possible that saying it out loud might make it seem more real. But Scarlet retained just enough self-control to stop herself trying out the theory.

 

‘I hope you like the room.'

Scarlet smiled a little vaguely.
‘Room…?'

‘I hope you like this room,' Natalia repeated patiently.

‘Of course, it's a lovely room.' She spared the beautifully furnished bedroom a cursory glance, which lingered longest on the bed she was to share with Roman.

‘Sam is in the connecting room—I thought that would be best.'

‘Sam!' Scarlet looked around the room, alarm jolting her belatedly to an alert state. ‘Where is he?'

Natalia looked at her strangely. ‘He has gone to look at the puppies in the kitchen, remember? You said it would be all right. I can get him if you like.'

Deeply embarrassed, Scarlet blushed. ‘Of course…no, that's all right. He's always wanted a dog.'

‘All children like puppies and Alice is with him. He'll be fine.'

Alice, Scarlet seemed to recall, dredging through her vague memories of the past few minutes, was the tall blonde who had been introduced as Roman's PA. Roman's father had turned out to have an appearance that matched his intimidating reputation: a big, burly man with a shock of grey hair and an abrupt manner.

‘Yes, I'm sure he will.'

‘You must be tired after the journey. If you'd like to lie down for a while before dinner you may. Hopefully Luca will be here by then and you'll be able to meet all the family.'

There was only one member of the O'Hagan family she wanted to see at that moment and he was closeted in the study taking a vital call.

She didn't think much of his priorities!

‘I am tired,' Scarlet agreed, relieved to have a legitimate reason to explain away behaviour that had to seem pretty bizarre to the other woman. ‘Maybe I'll have a shower, or a walk.'

She doubted whether ten cold showers were going to make her any more articulate. It was so typical of Roman to say something like that and then get himself called away.

‘Well, I'll be in the drawing room if you want me and I'm sure Roman won't be long,' Natalia said as if reading her mind. ‘Would you like some tea brought up to your room?'

‘No, thank you, I might wait for Roman.'

S
CARLET
did wait but, contrary to his mother's prediction, Roman
was
long, or at least it seemed that way to Scarlet. She had unpacked her clothes and Sam's in the pretty adjoining room, which looked suspiciously as though it had been recently decorated. Someone, probably their hostess, had gone to a lot of trouble to make them feel welcome and comfortable. She felt a pang of guilt when she realised how ungrateful she must have seemed.

She reached the point where she had half convinced herself he hadn't said anything at all and she had imagined the whole thing when she decided enough was enough. If she sat here any longer, her thoughts going around in circles, she'd go quietly barmy, and she was neglecting her duty as a parent.

She was pretty sure that Sam would be where the puppies were and they were in the kitchen.

Scarlet found the warm cosy room with its original range and modern day appliances, and tried to apologise to Alice for Sam being a nuisance. But Alice, clearly not immune to the charm of his big brown eyes, announced that Sam wasn't bothering her and they were enjoying themselves.

The cook had given them the run of the kitchen so long as they cleaned up after themselves and Alice, with Sam's help, planned to make a batch of scones.

Helping involved a lot of flour and Scarlet left him happily up to his armpits in the stuff.

 

Making her way back from the domestic offices to the main part of the rambling house was not as easy as it sounded. When Scarlet found herself back in the boot room for the second time she began to think she might be doomed to wander the below-stairs corridors for ever.

Maybe it was someone's way of telling her that was where she belonged, she thought with an ironic smile. She certainly felt a lot more comfortable in the cosy old-fashioned kitchen than she expected to upstairs in the drawing room.

When she did eventually find herself in the main hallway she wasn't entirely sure how she got there. Her heels were noisy on the gleaming wooden floor as she slowed her pace outside the study door behind which she had seen Roman disappear.

Perhaps Roman wasn't in there. Perhaps he had finished and was even now waiting for her upstairs. The possibility made her heartbeat quicken—and her stride.

It was Sam's name that slowed her down. She could hear voices coming through the slightly open door. She stopped pretending to herself she wasn't eavesdropping when she identified the distinctive sound of Roman's deep voice.

Even this far away it had the ability to raise goose-bumps on her skin. Her weakness brought a smile to her lips; this faded when Roman's voice was closely followed by the deep rumble of Finn O'Hagan's voice raised loudly in anger.

‘I suppose it's better late than never…' she heard him observe grudgingly. ‘A man should never feel ashamed of his own child.'

Shock held Scarlet frozen to the spot. Had Roman told his father he was ashamed of Sam? Had all the things he'd said been a lie? It was hard for her to believe this, but it was equally hard to read his comment any other way.

‘When I look at that poor innocent babe I'm ashamed. Ashamed that I raised a man who can't see beyond his own selfish pleasure.'

Scarlet flinched as there was the sound of something falling…breaking…and Finn's terse instruction to, ‘Leave the damned thing alone. Someone will pick it up later.'

‘I'm ashamed of you, I'm ashamed I'm your father.'

Scarlet, who now recognised with a sick feeling what was happening, pressed her hand to her mouth.

‘I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you, Father.' In contrast to his father's voice, Roman's was rigidly controlled. ‘You shouldn't get excited, Father.'

‘I'm not excited, I'm
disgusted
.'

Without thinking about what she was doing, acting purely on an instinct that told her she couldn't let Roman take the blame for something that he was innocent of, Scarlet stepped through the door into the room.

The morning sun was streaming in through the windows of the big book-lined room, and, combined with the glow from the blazing open log fire in the vast carved stone fire-place, it should have made for a warm, cosy atmosphere. But inside the atmosphere was ice.

The two big men, both standing with a large oak desk between them, didn't notice her.

‘Sit down, father, and let's discuss this rationally.' From where she was standing she could see the strain in Roman's face. His strongly etched profile was taut and each angle and hollow of his face sharply defined.

‘It doesn't matter how
rationally
we discuss it. It's not going to alter the fact that because of you a woman lost her life giving birth to your son.'

A sudden calmness that came from knowing what she had to do settled over Scarlet.

‘No!' Her soft voice had a bell-like clarity as she stepped forward into the room. ‘This has to stop now.'

The two men turned in unison. ‘Scarlet, leave it,' Roman said, moving to block her impetuous entrance.

She shook her head and braced herself against his upper arms with her hands, but he still frustrated her efforts to reach his father, physically blocking her with his own body. Scarlet felt the iron-hard muscles in his well-developed upper arms clench beneath her fingers. Their eyes meshed.

‘This isn't right.'

‘This isn't your problem, Scarlet.'

‘Maybe it isn't, but I'm not going to leave it. I've left it too long already,' she reflected grimly.

‘You're defending my son?'

‘Well, someone has to,' Scarlet said, stepping back from Roman because there was no way she was going through him.

‘After what he did to your own sister.'

The scornful recrimination in the older man's voice brought a flush to her cheeks. ‘The point is, he didn't.'

The older man shook his head impatiently. ‘Is this what he's told you, girl?'

Roman's deep voice cut angrily across his father. ‘Her name is Scarlet, Father. If you want to vent your anger on anyone, I'm here. Leave her out of it.'

The eyes of father and son clashed for a moment. Finn O'Hagan was the first to look away with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

Scarlet's chin lifted. ‘I can defend myself,' she told Roman. Then turned to his father. ‘Nobody tells me what to think, Mr O'Hagan,' she declared proudly.

‘Fine words. You'll be telling me next he isn't the father.'

‘Roman is Sam's father,' she admitted.

Roman's father gave an impatient snort. ‘Exactly, there's nothing more to be said. The facts speak for themselves.'

‘No, actually, they don't, Mr O'Hagan. Roman didn't seduce my sister. None of it was an accident.'

‘What are you talking about, Scarlet?' Roman asked.

‘Abby
wanted
a baby.'

‘I know.'

‘No,' she interrupted loudly. ‘You don't know. Abby planned to have a baby and she picked you out as the father.'

‘Picked me?'
Roman shook his head. ‘What are you talking about, Scarlet?'

‘Abby picked you out to be the father of her baby. I think having a child became an obsession.' Her trembling lower lip caught between her teeth, she lowered her eyes guiltily.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. She could only imagine how angry and disgusted he must be feeling and how she was the natural focus for his anger. She couldn't expect him to understand that telling him the truth was a betrayal of her sister's memory.

She took a deep breath before continuing.

‘Abby told me shortly before her death that she planned it all. She spiked his drink and…she made sure that any…any
precautions
didn't work. She never had any intention that he would be involved with Sam,' she admitted miserably. ‘The morning after,' she added, determined now she had begun to make a clean breast of it, ‘to make sure Roman wouldn't suspect anything she told him that nothing had happened, that he had fallen asleep.'

There was a thunderstruck silence. Finn O'Hagan stared at her, then turned to his son. ‘My God, can this be true?'

Roman, his dark shadowed eyes still on Scarlet's face, didn't respond to the incredulous question. His impenetrable expression made it impossible to know what to read into his silence.

There was a husky note of appeal in Scarlet's voice as she addressed her words directly to a stony-faced Roman.

‘Abby wasn't a bad person,' she faltered huskily. ‘She'd had a couple of relationships over the previous year that ended badly. I think she thought that she'd never find a man to love but she wanted a baby.'

‘And her solution was to get a man drunk and sleep with him…?'

Scarlet could hear precious little of the understanding she'd been praying for in his voice. She felt her throat close over with unshed tears and drew a deep, slow breath.

‘Please don't think badly of her!' she pleaded. Tears stood out in her eyes as she turned towards the door. ‘And, Mr O'Hagan, nobody has told you, but it wasn't Roman who called off the wedding to Sally, she did. She ran off with the best man. So you see this isn't the first time you've blamed Roman for something that wasn't his fault. I'd say he's earned the benefit of the doubt…wouldn't you?

‘If I were you I'd be grateful I had a son like Roman, not spend my time looking for things to be mean to him about.' She barely managed to get the rebuke out before her self-control snapped and she fled from the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

For several minutes after she'd gone neither man moved. It was Finn O'Hagan who finally broke the tableau. He looked at his son's profile without comment and went over to the bureau. He poured a generous measure of Irish whiskey from an unopened bottle and drained the glass in one swallow. With a sigh he poured a second, refilled his own and approached his son.

‘Is it true about Sally?'

Roman gave a shrug. ‘It was a long time ago.'

‘I assume that was a yes. It would seem that I owe you an apology.'

Roman's fingers curled around the glass extended to him. ‘You thought I'd been a selfish bastard. I thought I'd been a selfish bastard.' His powerful shoulders lifted before he raised the glass to his lips. ‘Forget it,' he advised.

‘That took some guts…coming in here like she did.'

‘You think?'

‘Don't you?'

‘This isn't about courage,' Roman began forcefully before visibly restraining himself. He ran a hand down his jaw.

‘What is it about, Roman?' his father asked quietly. With a groan he lowered himself into a chair. ‘I'm as stiff as a damned board,' he complained. ‘Your mother might be right, maybe I do need a bit of sun in my old age.' His eyes followed the panther-like, prowling progress of his son as he trod a path down the length of the room and back again.

‘The girl must have been torn; it can't be an easy thing it's her sister.'

Roman's dark eyes flared. ‘And I'm her bloody husband…or I will be,' he growled, banging the glass down on the desk.

‘Oh, that's still on, is it?'

Roman turned on him in a flash. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I shouldn't marry her?'

Finn appeared to consider the question. ‘Well, maybe you could do better.' He silently counted to three before his son exploded.

‘Better?'
he repeated, his eyes narrowed to menacing icy slits. ‘I don't want
better
, I want Scarlet.'

Finn smiled up at his glowering son. ‘Don't tell me, boy, tell her.'

 

It was about half an hour later that there was a knock on her bedroom door. Scarlet, who was lying full length on the bed, rolled over and tried to smooth down her hair. It was going to be hard to explain away her bedraggled appearance, she thought, grimacing as she examined the marks twenty minutes of unrestrained weeping had left on her face in the mirror.

‘I'll be right there,' she called, sliding her legs off the bed.

The door opened. ‘Don't bother.'

Scarlet just sat there awkwardly as Roman came into the room and closed the door behind him.

It was a meeting she had been dreading but one she knew she had to face some time or other. At least now there were no lies or half-told truths between them. A relationship that was built on love could survive the truth. If it couldn't, maybe it wasn't worth saving.

Total rubbish!
the voice in her head replied in response to this fatalistic maxim.
Only an idiot stands there and lets their future go down the toilet without at least trying to stop it.