Mills & Boon Christmas Set

‘What do you mean?’

‘All your travel plans. You told me you liked to move around. Itchy feet, you said.’

She was surprised and weirdly gratified that he’d remembered what she’d said, but also piqued that he was throwing it back in her face now. ‘That changed when I became pregnant.’

‘You never considered a termination?’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘Is that what you would have preferred? Because—’

‘No.’ He shook his head, one swift, violent movement. ‘No. But I could understand if—’

She let out a rush of breath. ‘I thought of it at first, I suppose, but never seriously. I never thought I wanted a husband or children, but I couldn’t...she was a part of me.’ A lump formed in her throat and resolutely she swallowed past it. ‘I loved her even before she was born.’

‘And you’ve been living here since her birth?’ His gaze moved around the small kitchen, and Emma prickled.

‘My sister has been very kind—’

‘Yes, of course. But what about your father? Is he still in Budapest?’

So he remembered that too. ‘Yes, he is, but I wanted to be here. And frankly he wasn’t thrilled about me being pregnant, unmarried, and the father—’

‘In prison,’ he finished flatly, and Emma nodded.

‘In any case, we’re fine here.’

‘But you can’t stay here for ever.’

‘Meghan is happy for us to stay,’ Emma shot back. She wasn’t about to admit to Larenzo that she might need to move out. ‘Anyway, I don’t see how this concerns you, Larenzo—’

‘Are you serious?’ He cut her off, his voice harsh. ‘She’s my daughter.’ He paused, struggling to control his emotions while Emma watched in apprehension. ‘What’s her name?’ he finally asked.

She hesitated, reluctant to part with even that much information. What if Larenzo wanted to be a part of Ava’s life, of their lives? How on earth could she cope with that?

‘Emma, I deserve to know her name!’ His voice came out raggedly, and with a shaft of guilt Emma remembered how he’d told her about his childhood in Palermo, how he’d never had a real family. And with that came other memories of their night together, tender ones that she’d tried to keep herself from remembering. They tumbled through her mind in a bittersweet rush of poignant longing and she was helpless against it. No matter what Larenzo had done, she’d loved this man. For a night.

‘Ava,’ she said quietly.

‘Ava,’ he repeated, and she closed her eyes against the wonder she heard in his voice. ‘How old is she?’

‘Ten months. She was born on Christmas Eve.’

‘Would you have ever told me about her?’ he asked after a moment.

She opened her eyes and stared at him helplessly. ‘Larenzo, you were in prison. You were convicted of about a thousand charges all related to being in the Mafia. How could I tell you?’

He gazed back steadily, unmoved by her argument. ‘The charges were dropped.’

‘I didn’t know that. And I still don’t know why they were dropped—’

‘You still think I’m guilty?’ he cut her off, his voice hard.

‘I don’t know,’ she cried. ‘Larenzo, you have to understand how it was for me. The day you were arrested...those men...’

Even now, a year and a half later, the memory of that night made shame and fear roil through her. ‘It was horrible. And then I spent the whole day in the anti-Mafia headquarters in Palermo while they told me you were involved in the Mafia, how they had all this evidence...what was I supposed to believe?’

‘Me. You could have believed me.’

‘You confessed,’ she shot back. ‘I read it in the papers. So I did believe you.’

He pressed his lips together, his gaze narrowed and hard. ‘Of course you did.’

‘And yet you still seem to think I should have believed in your innocence.’

He didn’t answer, and Emma bit her lip. She felt cold inside, so terribly cold. For a year and a half she’d been so certain of Larenzo’s guilt, and yet now, having seen him only for a few minutes, she felt doubt creep in along with the bittersweet memories. Who was the real man—the Mafia monster or the one she’d made love to?

‘But just now,’ he finally said. ‘You wanted me to leave. Even now, when you knew the charges had been dropped, that I was free, you were trying to keep me from my child.’

‘Because as far as I know, you’re still a dangerous man,’ Emma retorted. Larenzo’s eyes narrowed and she almost took a step back. Yet even now she realised she wasn’t actually afraid of him. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, but...

What was she afraid of, then? Because she certainly felt the cold claws of terror digging into her soul, icing over her mind. ‘Even if you are innocent of the charges they laid against you,’ she continued more calmly, ‘you must have Mafia connections, something that made the police—’

‘Not in the way you think,’ he bit out, and Emma just shook her head, overwhelmed with too many terrible emotions to respond. ‘I am a free man,’ Larenzo said in a low voice. ‘And you can’t keep me from my daughter.’

Emma pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘We can’t talk about this now,’ she said. ‘My sister will be home in a few minutes, and Ava is going to wake up soon. I never even expected to see you again, Larenzo. Having you turn up out of the blue...’ She shook her head. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’

‘I understand,’ he answered levelly. ‘But know this. I will be back, and I will see Ava again. Don’t think for a moment you can keep me from her.’

His mouth compressed and his eyes flashed silver and Emma’s stomach did a sickening little flip. She had no idea what to think, to believe.

‘We’ll talk,’ she managed. ‘Soon.’

Larenzo held her gaze for an endless, agonising moment, and then with one swift nod he turned and left the room. Emma heard the click of the front door closing and she sagged against the kitchen counter, utterly emotionally spent.

‘Emma?’ A minute later her sister’s voice, lilting with curiosity, floated down the hall. ‘Who was that leaving the house?’

Emma straightened as her sister came into the kitchen with Ryan in tow, her eyebrows raised, a smile playing about her mouth. ‘Do you have a secret admirer?’

‘Hardly.’ Emma took a deep breath. ‘That was Larenzo Cavelli.’

‘What?’ The smile slid clear off Meghan’s face and numbly Emma explained the events of the last hour. Ava woke up just as she was finishing and she hurried upstairs, grateful for a moment to collect her thoughts, few as she had.

‘Mama.’ Ava wound her arms around her neck as Emma closed her eyes and breathed in her daughter’s scent, baby powder with a hint of the banana she’d eaten for lunch. Ava pressed her cheek against Emma’s chest, letting out a snuggly sigh, and Emma’s heart gave a painful squeeze. She would do anything for Ava. Anything to keep her safe...even if it meant keeping her from her father.

Yet how could she do that? And should she, if Larenzo were really innocent?

‘Ava, sweetheart,’ she whispered against the baby’s silky hair. ‘What are we going to do?’

She stayed upstairs for a few moments, cuddling Ava and then changing her diaper, wanting to put off the conversation she’d have to have with Meghan. Wanting to put off thinking about Larenzo Cavelli and what she was going to do.

Yet even in the dim quiet of her and Ava’s bedroom, memories invaded. Memories not of Larenzo as he’d been only moments ago, coldly angry, clearly ruthless, but as he’d been the night their daughter had been conceived. The tenderness he’d shown, as well as the despair. That sorrow and resignation she’d felt in him, had yearned to take away, and the aching, reverent gentleness of his touch...

Remembering that man made all the certainties she’d cultivated over the last eighteen months scatter like ash.

What if he wasn’t guilty?

But what if he is?

‘Emma?’ Meghan’s voice was sharp with concern as she called up the stairs. ‘Are you coming down?’

‘Yes, I’ll be there in a moment.’ Taking a deep breath, Emma settled Ava on her hip and headed downstairs. Ryan was playing in the playroom adjoining the kitchen and she put Ava on the floor with him, scattering a few blocks and soft toys around. Knowing her daughter as she did, Ava would throw all the toys across the room and then try to grab the trains Ryan was playing with. Her daughter knew what she wanted...just like her father.

‘I can’t believe Larenzo Cavelli came here,’ Meghan said, her voice hollow with shock. She filled up the kettle, shaking her head slowly. ‘How did he even know...?’

‘The address was on my employment application.’

‘And he wants to see Ava?’

‘I don’t know what he wants exactly, but he told me I couldn’t keep him from his daughter.’

Meghan was silent for a moment, her face pale with strain. ‘So do you think he is innocent, if the charges were dropped?’ she asked and Emma bit her lip.

‘I don’t know anything any more, Meghan. For a year and a half I thought I knew the truth. I didn’t like it, of course, and at times I couldn’t believe it, but I thought I knew.’

‘And now you think you didn’t?’ Meghan sounded sceptical, and rightly so. How could Emma take anything Larenzo said at face value?

‘I don’t know. But I suppose I should find out why the charges against him were dropped.’ She reached for the laptop they’d left lying out on the kitchen counter, the browser still on the employment agency’s listings. Had it only been a couple of hours ago she’d been worried about what sort of menial job she’d take? It almost seemed laughable.

Quickly Emma typed in the browser’s search engine Larenzo Cavelli charges dropped. Hundreds of results came up within seconds. She clicked on the first one, and began to read the news article.

All charges have been dropped against convicted felon Larenzo Cavelli when new evidence came to light that business partner Bertrano Raguso was in fact behind the illegal activities...

Meghan peered at the article over her shoulder. ‘Do you think it’s true?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘I have no idea.’ Emma scanned the rest of the article, skimming over the terrible list of Larenzo’s alleged crimes that she’d read in the paper once already. Once had definitely been enough.

‘If his business partner really was guilty, why would Larenzo confess?’ Meghan asked as she nibbled her lip.

‘I don’t know.’ Emma gazed at the photograph of Bertrano Raguso, a silver-haired man in his sixties, his face set into haggard lines. ‘But if they let Larenzo go...’

‘But they’d have to, if they have another confession.’

‘I don’t know if it’s that simple.’ Emma rubbed her forehead, felt the beginnings of a headache. From the playroom she heard the clatter of blocks being flung across the room, and then Ryan’s yowl as one connected with his head. ‘I need to see to Ava,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to think about this later. About what I’m going to do.’

‘You should consult a lawyer—’

Emma flinched at the thought. She didn’t want to get involved in some messy, drawn-out custody battle that would no doubt be splashed across the newspapers, due to Larenzo’s notoriety. But what if the alternative was granting him access to Ava? Exposing her to God only knew what kind of danger?

Unless he really was innocent...but how could he not have known about his partner’s activities? And why would he have confessed?

Emma let out a tired sigh. Her mind was racing in circles and she knew she had no answers now. ‘He might not actually want to be involved with Ava,’ she said, trying to convince herself as much as her sister. ‘He might just want to see her once...’

‘You need to be prepared,’ Meghan answered swiftly. ‘Emma, the man is—’

‘We don’t know what he is.’

‘Can you really doubt—?’

‘I told you, I don’t know.’ And yet if there was any chance Larenzo was guilty, any chance of putting Ava in danger...

‘I’ll talk to a lawyer,’ Emma said. ‘I should do that much, at least. Just...just in case.’

Ava and Ryan had both started crying and so Emma scooped her daughter up and distracted her with a few board books before rejoining Meghan at the laptop. Her sister had typed custody lawyers into the search box, and, with her heart thudding sickly and her head still spinning from all that had happened in such a short span of time, Emma watched the results come up, and then she reached for her phone.

CHAPTER SIX

NERVOUSLY EMMA SMOOTHED her hair, straightened her skirt, and then opened the door to the restaurant where she was meeting Larenzo. It had been three endless days since he’d shown up at her sister’s house, and Emma had almost started hoping that Larenzo had decided to leave them alone. Yet tangled up in that hope had been an absurd disappointment that he might have given up so easily.

She’d spoken to a lawyer two days ago, and he’d told her that since the charges against Larenzo had been dropped, he would most certainly have a legal right to see Ava. Access could be limited or denied if a court decided there was any danger to her daughter, but it was by no means clear cut or simple.

The next day Larenzo had called and Emma’s heart had actually lifted at the sound of his voice. They’d set up a meeting over dinner at a local restaurant, and Emma knew she had no idea what she wanted from this meeting. Her emotions and thoughts were all over the place, and no matter how she tried to order them they raced off in all directions as soon as she thought of Larenzo, remembered how he’d once been with her.

The atmosphere, she saw as she came into the restaurant, was elegant and understated, candlelight flickering over snowy white tablecloths. It almost seemed romantic, which didn’t help her disordered thoughts, her clamouring emotions. No matter what she and Larenzo decided about Ava, romance had no place in their lives any more.

She gave her name to the maître d’ and he showed her to a table in the back, set in a private alcove. Larenzo was already seated, and he rose as she approached. He wore a white button-down shirt and plain grey trousers, and yet he still seemed bigger and darker and more magnetic than any other person in the room.

Once, only once, she’d allowed herself to be drawn by that magnetic force. Now she knew she needed to be immune. To stay strong.

Emma sat down across from him, busying herself with putting her napkin in her lap as Larenzo settled back into his seat, seeming to take up too much space, too much air. Why had it become hard to breathe?

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said.

Emma took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs. ‘I didn’t really have much choice, did I?’

He pressed his lips together and Emma could almost feel the tension crackle between them. ‘This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, Emma.’

‘And how do you figure that?’ she shot back. She’d wanted to stay calm for this meeting but already her composure was cracking, revealing the fear and uncertainty underneath. ‘I’m here to discuss a man with Mafia connections being involved with my daughter—’

‘My daughter,’ Larenzo cut across her, his voice low and intense. ‘She’s my daughter too. Never forget that.’

‘Unfortunately, I won’t.’

He sat back in his chair, his fingers laced together as he gazed at her. ‘Do you hate me?’ he asked, as if it was a matter of academic interest, and Emma could only stare at him, flummoxed. Where had that come from? ‘Because,’ he continued, ‘you seem as if you hate me.’

‘I...’ She searched for words, disconcerted by how much his question had unsettled her. ‘I don’t hate you,’ she said finally. ‘I don’t feel anything for you.’ Which was a bold-faced lie. She didn’t know what she felt for Larenzo Cavelli, but it was definitely something. ‘But I love my daughter,’ she continued shakily, ‘and I want to protect her—’

‘And you think I don’t want that?’

‘I don’t know what to think about you, Larenzo. I have no idea what to believe.’

‘How about the truth?’

‘Which is?’ she demanded, her voice rising. ‘Eighteen months ago you confessed to a long, sordid list of crimes. A week ago, your business partner was convicted of those same crimes, thanks to new evidence, but what am I meant to believe? How on earth do you expect me to trust you?’

Larenzo expelled a long, low breath. ‘I don’t,’ he said flatly. ‘You can’t trust anyone in this world. That’s one thing I’ve come to realise.’

‘Why did you confess if you weren’t guilty?’

He pressed his lips together as he flicked his gaze away. ‘Because there was overwhelming evidence to convict me.’

‘How?’

‘Look, I don’t want to get into all that now. I left that life behind—’

‘And I’m supposed to just accept that?’

Larenzo leaned forward, his gaze glittering. ‘Emma, do you honestly think I’d put my own child in danger? Do you think I’d be here if I thought I’d be hurting Ava?’

Emma bit her lip. She didn’t think that, but she was still afraid. Still reluctant to relinquish control, to let Larenzo into Ava’s life. Into her life, in any way at all, and with a jolt she realised it wasn’t just because of his possible criminal connections. It was because this man affected her. And she was afraid to let him do that again.

Larenzo leaned back in his chair. ‘I left Italy for good and severed all ties to Cavelli Enterprises. Bertrano Raguso is in prison for the crimes he committed. That is all you need to know.’

‘Why New York?’ Emma asked. The waiter came forward to take their order, and she gazed blindly at the menu. She had no appetite at all. Finally she picked a relatively plain chicken dish, and Larenzo ordered for himself, before they were left alone again and he answered her question.

‘I wanted a new start. Cavelli Enterprises had no holdings in America.’

‘What’s happened to Cavelli Enterprises?’

‘Its assets were seized by the government. Everything’s frozen while the investigation continues.’

‘So even though there was evidence...?’

Larenzo’s mouth hardened into a flat line. ‘Bertrano is claiming he is innocent, but the evidence is incontrovertible.’ His mouth twisted. ‘In the meantime the company will most likely be liquidated, and its remaining assets distributed to shareholders.’ He spoke dispassionately, as if it was a matter of indifference to him. Emma searched his face, saw a hardness underneath his bland expression that she didn’t think had been there before.

‘Were you close to him? This Raguso?’

Larenzo hesitated, one hand resting flat on the tabletop. ‘A bit,’ he finally said.

‘And do you think he did it?’

‘I know he did.’ He shifted in his chair, his gaze arrowing in on her. ‘While I was in prison, my staff investigated and found proof of his guilt. But enough talk of what is past. It’s the future that concerns me.’

‘The past is important, Larenzo—’

‘I’ve told you all you need to know,’ he cut across her. ‘I want to talk about Ava.’

She knew it was coming, and yet she still resisted. ‘What about her?’

For a second his face softened, his mouth curving into something almost like a smile and just that little look made Emma start to melt. ‘What is she like? From the little I saw of her already, it seems like she knows her own mind.’

‘She does. She’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.’

‘Her strength will serve her well later in life.’

‘So I keep telling myself.’ To her shock Emma realised she was smiling, and Larenzo was actually smiling back.

‘I want to see her,’ Larenzo said firmly, and Emma took a deep breath.

‘There’s a playground near the house—’

Larenzo’s expression darkened, his eyes flashing silver fire. ‘A playground? Do you think you can fob me off with an hour or two at a local park?’

‘It’s a start, Larenzo—’

‘I’ve missed the first ten months of my daughter’s life. I want to spend time with her, Emma. Real time. Not be introduced to her as if I’m some stranger in a park playground.’

Emma stared down at the table, conscious of how quickly Larenzo had torn apart her suggestion. She’d wanted to stage-manage his entrance into Ava’s life, to exert some control over the proceedings, and hopefully to limit them. She should have known Larenzo wouldn’t let her do that. He was a man who was in control. Always.

‘Very well.’ She took a deep, even breath and let it out slowly. ‘What do you suggest?’

‘I’ve taken an apartment in New York, and it has plenty of room. I suggest you and Ava move there with me.’

Emma gaped at him, stunned into silence for a few seconds. ‘You want me to move in with you?’ she finally managed, her voice ending in something close to a squeak.

‘I’m not suggesting we have some sort of relationship,’ Larenzo clarified coolly. ‘I have no interest in that. But I want to see my daughter as much as possible, and be a real presence in her life. Your current living arrangements are neither sustainable nor suitable.’ He lifted one powerful shoulder in a shrug. ‘The answer seems obvious.’

‘To you, maybe.’ Emma nearly choked. She shook her head and reached for her glass of water. She’d never expected Larenzo to suggest something like this. To live with him...to be that near to temptation...

‘I don’t see an alternative,’ Larenzo answered. ‘I want unlimited access to my daughter—’

‘Unlimited? Larenzo, be reasonable—’ At the very most she’d thought she’d have to have some kind of joint custody arrangement with Larenzo. But this?

This was dangerous. Impossible. Tempting...

‘I don’t really see what the problem is,’ Larenzo replied calmly. ‘Surely you agree it’s better for Ava to have two interested and loving parents in her life?’

Emma swallowed. ‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to live together—’

‘What, precisely, do you object to?’ Larenzo asked. His voice had gone quiet, dangerously so. ‘You’ll have your own room, your own bathroom, and your quarters will be far more comfortable than they are currently.’

Emma stared at him helplessly. He made it all sound so simple, and yet it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. ‘Everything’s changed so quickly,’ she finally said. ‘I can’t process it all—’

‘Then take your time,’ Larenzo answered. ‘You have until tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow—’

‘I want to see my daughter, Emma.’

‘I know you do.’ Except she hadn’t expected Larenzo to feel this strongly, this fiercely, about his role as a father. That he did surprised her, but she realised she couldn’t resent it. She knew what it was like to have a parent who chose a life without you. Who walked away from her child. Despite all the obstacles, all the unknowns, she realised she was, amazingly, glad Larenzo wanted to be involved...even if she was scared about what it meant.

‘I can’t just live with you,’ she finally burst out.

Larenzo arched an eyebrow, all arrogant assurance. ‘Why not?’

‘Because...because...’ Because she was afraid of this man, and it had nothing to do with any criminal connections. She was afraid of his power over her, her need for him. ‘I need to have my own life, Larenzo. I was planning on moving out of my sister’s house for that reason. I’m twenty-seven years old and I’m not going to freeload off people for ever.’

‘So this is a question of money?’

‘Not just money,’ she returned. ‘It’s about independence and autonomy. I need to be my own person—’

‘And you can’t do that living in my apartment?’ He made her feel ridiculous, and yet she couldn’t just fall in with his plans, fit into his life without having one of her own.

‘I can’t believe I’m even thinking of moving in with you,’ she said, shaking her head slowly.

‘It makes sense.’

Emma didn’t answer. It did make a certain kind of bizarre sense, which both aggravated and alarmed her. Three days ago she’d thought Larenzo Cavelli would spend his life in prison. Two days ago she would have fought tooth and nail to keep him out of her daughter’s life.