The Italian's Love-Child: The Italian's Stolen Bride / The Marchese's Love-Child / The Italian's Marriage Demand

She unlocked the Alfa and waited beside it, wondering how she was going to cope in his company all day long—a morning visit to the aquarium, lunch in one of the many restaurants overlooking Darling Harbour, idling the afternoon away at the children’s playground or the Japanese Gardens.

Father and son emerged from the Ferrari, holding hands to cross the road, both of them wearing jeans and T-shirts, just as she was. The three of them were dressed like a family, going on a holiday tour together, and Matt was skipping with excited anticipation. He’d had his ride in his father’s flash car and now he was going to see all the fish from his favourite movie, Finding Nemo.

Skye handed the Alfa’s key to Luc. ‘You drive. I haven’t been near inner-city traffic for so long, it would make me nervous.’

‘Then this should be a practice run for you,’ he argued.

‘I’d rather do that alone.’

‘I could help you avoid mistakes.’

‘Just let me be a passenger, Luc. It’s your day with Matt.’ Not with me.

He instantly picked up the implication not to assume too much and gave her an ironic little smile as he took the key. ‘Keeping your distance, Skye?’

‘Keeping out of trouble,’ she answered.

She had trouble enough, sitting so closely beside him in the car on their way to Darling Harbour. His physical presence in such a small space dominated her consciousness, even though she kept her gaze fixed on the traffic, trying her utmost to ignore how acutely all her other senses were attuned to him.

Nor could she stop her body from feeling all keyed up—whether to repel any touch from him or welcome it, she didn’t know. Just being near him aroused the fresh sexual memories from last week, but she couldn’t let that happen again, couldn’t risk any kind of intimate contact while she was still trying to sort through the situation between them.

Matt was full of chatter, keeping Luc engaged in conversation, for which Skye was intensely grateful. She listened to their voices. No strain in either of them—happy, cheerful, having fun. Would Luc be a good father in the long run? Discovering a son was still very new to him. He wanted to indulge Matt, but there was more to parenting than indulgence.

Still, Skye couldn’t quarrel with the indulgence when they finally reached the aquarium and walked into a new entrancing world for Matt. The touching pond and the showcases of fish were fantastic. Seeing sharks swimming overhead was positively awesome. She could not have afforded to give Matt this experience and he was loving every minute of it.

The tropical fish, of course, were a very special attraction, and he told Luc the names of those he recognised from having watched Finding Nemo many times since Skye had bought him the video for Christmas. Naturally the clownfish was his favourite.

Eventually they’d exhausted every attraction and Skye suggested a toilet visit before going on to lunch. She automatically took Matt’s hand to lead him into the Ladies’ Room, only to be halted by Luc.

‘He should come with me, Skye.’

‘But he’s a little boy,’ she objected.

‘I’ll look after him.’ Hard challenge in his eyes.

It was his day with Matt.

Rather than make a fight of it, Skye reluctantly let them go together. She was waiting for them when they came out and Matt rushed over to her to whisper proudly, ‘I peed in the urinal with Daddy.’

Skye grimaced over this highly basic piece of male bonding and rolled her eyes at Luc who was totally unabashed about it. ‘About time I had a first in my son’s upbringing,’ he said pointedly, reminding her of all the firsts he’d missed—first word, first step, first day at school…

Matt skipped on ahead of them as they walked towards the aquarium exit and Luc seized the chance for some private talk between them, stunning her with his opening line. ‘Any chance you might have conceived another child last week?’

‘No,’ she answered quickly, a wave of heat whooshing up her neck at the abrupt reference to their intimacy.

‘I didn’t use protection, Skye, and your own long drought from any sex suggests you didn’t, either.’

‘It was a safe time.’ A fact she’d only figured out—frantically—when the possible consequence of pregnancy had occurred to her after he’d gone.

‘Sure about that?’

‘Yes,’ she bit out grimly, remembering the churning panic while she had checked dates.

‘I was rather hoping it wasn’t,’ he drawled.

‘What?’ She threw an appalled look at him.

‘I’m here to take care of you this time.’ His eyes glittered ruthless determination. ‘And I’d like us to have a child we both shared from the very beginning.’

She felt his strongly embittered sense of having been cheated of years with Matt and kept her mouth shut. This was not something she could argue against. Yet a revulsion against the ruthlessness she saw in him forced her to ask, ‘Were you thinking of getting me pregnant when you carried me off to bed?’

‘No.’ He sliced her a sardonic little smile. ‘I just wanted you, Skye. So much that protection didn’t enter my head. And it didn’t enter yours, either.’ He paused before softly adding, ‘What do you think that says about our need for each other?’

She didn’t answer.

Luc called out to Matt, bringing him back in line with them, taking his hand—a hand that was readily given, unlike hers. Skye wondered if Luc would stoop to seriously playing Matt as a persuasive force in getting her to accept his proposal of marriage. Or was he simply counting on her own vulnerability to a connection with him?

She couldn’t block out the powerful attraction he exerted on her, yet marriage was something else entirely. No way was she going to rush into a decision. Six years was a huge gap to bridge and she was far too conscious of the murky waters that flowed all around them, making a foundation on which to build seem very rocky.

They proceeded to a harbourside restaurant where Luc had booked a table out on the open terrace so they could watch the colourful passing parade of people and the boats in the water—lots of boats on show this weekend, reminding Skye of how she had first met Luc and his brother.

It was at the end of her second year of university and she’d got a casual summer job in the supply shop at the big Cronulla marina. The Peretti family had owned a huge waterfront home nearby in those days. Probably still did. She and her mother had moved from the adjoining suburb of Caringbah after her stepfather had deserted them.

But that summer, the Peretti brothers had sailed every weekend. She had met Roberto first, serving him in the shop. He’d flirted with her and she’d thought him a rather gorgeous playboy until Luc had appeared, completely knocking out the attraction of his younger brother. It wasn’t so much he was better looking, more that he somehow made Roberto seem lightweight in comparison, instantly relegated to the sidelines.

He still had that power.

Skye glanced around the men seated at other tables, the men walking by…all of them paled in comparison to Luc. He commanded attention, compelled attention, and she knew she was in a hopeless position, trying to hold him at a distance when he was intent on reclaiming her.

After lunch they strolled down to the playground area where Luc directed that he and Skye sit on a grassy bank, watching how brave Matt was at using the slippery dip by himself. Encouraged to show off, Matt was only too eager to demonstrate to his father how capable he was of using all the playground equipment, which neatly took him out of earshot.

Skye resigned herself to another private conversation with Luc, knowing there was no ultimate way of avoiding it. One way or another, he’d make the opportunity. Besides, her nerves were so on edge waiting for it, she might as well get it over with. They sat side by side, their knees hitched up, arms resting on them, no doubt looking very relaxed together to Matt, and at least Luc made no move to get closer.

‘Let’s discuss marriage,’ he started without any preamble.

Skye plucked a blade of grass and began slowly shredding it as she struggled to put her thoughts into some kind of sensible framework.

‘You’ve had time to think about it,’ Luc pressed.

‘I don’t know the man you are now,’ Skye said truthfully, keeping her focus on the strips of grass.

‘You want more time.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you are considering it.’

The satisfaction in his voice stirred rebellion against the pressure he was laying on her. ‘There’s a hell of a lot to consider, Luc.’

He came straight back with, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’

More pressure.

She slanted him a curious look. ‘Have you run the idea of marrying me past your parents, Luc?’

‘I didn’t discuss it with them, no. I told them flatly that they either accept you as my wife or lose me. And having just lost one son, I don’t think they’ll be inclined to buck my ultimatum.’

It shocked her speechless. She stared at him, stunned by the starkly drawn stand he had made, the sheer ruthlessness of his planning, and the assumption that they would marry, all laid out as though it was already decided.

‘When…’ Her mouth had gone so dry she had to work some moisture in it before managing to choke out the question skating through her dazed mind. ‘When did you tell them?’

‘After I faced my father with your accusation that he’d paid for an abortion,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘And the whole truth of what had happened six years ago was finally disclosed.’

Not this past week…much, much before…after coming face to face with her and Matt for the first time. He’d decided then! Was it to spite his father for keeping all knowledge of Matt from him—a vengeful act on his whole family for having sabotaged his right to choose whatever woman he wanted in his life?

‘Your parents won’t want me as your wife,’ she stated with utter certainty.

A hard relentless pride looked back at her. ‘They don’t have a choice.’

‘I do, Luc,’ she pointedly reminded him.

‘They will accept you, Skye. They have too much to lose if they don’t.’

‘I don’t want to be involved in your fight with them. I don’t want Matt to be a pawn in your game. He’ll feel it. He’ll know he’s not what they want. You can’t force approval from people when they don’t feel it inside.’

‘This is no game, Skye. Believe me, I’m deadly serious.’

Deadly was right, she thought.

‘My parents will love Matt. Unreservedly,’ he pushed on, laying out cogent arguments. ‘He’s their only grandchild and the only one they’ll have if you don’t marry me. Roberto is dead and his marriage produced no children. The whole future of the Peretti family is now narrowed down to our son.’ His smile held a dark wealth of satisfaction as he added, ‘That makes Matt very precious to them.’

A convulsive little shiver ran down Skye’s spine. ‘Don’t put that weight on me. Or Matt,’ she cried. ‘It’s not fair!’

‘I think it balances the scales very nicely. You should feel it does, too, Skye.’

She shook her head. ‘You’re taking advantage of your brother’s death. For all the wrong he did to me and to you, it doesn’t make this right. Nothing can make this right.’ It was incredibly painful to say it but she truly felt the alternative would cause even more pain. ‘You should marry someone else…leave Matt and me out of it.’

‘But I won’t, Skye.’ In a soft, insidiously invasive voice that curled around her heart, demanding entry, he added, ‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved…or will love.’

She jerked her head away, frightened of showing how deeply it touched her when she hadn’t realised herself how much it would mean.

He must have interpreted it as a negative reaction. With barely a pause he spoke in a much harder tone, determined possession underlining every word.

‘And Matt is my son.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘THEY’RE grading all the kids for the soccer teams tomorrow,’ Matt announced on the way home from Darling Harbour. ‘Can you come, Daddy?’

‘Your father has other things to do tomorrow,’ Skye quickly inserted, panicking at the thought of having to withstand Luc’s pursuit of marriage with her a second day in a row. Besides, a Sunday visit was not part of their agreement. Her hands clenched, the need to fight against any pressure racing through her mind.

‘I bet all the other fathers will be there,’ Matt grumbled.

Luc’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. Skye’s heart sank. She knew what Luc was thinking—robbed of five years of fatherhood and still being blocked from taking part in his son’s life. It violated his sense of justice and threw Skye into confusion over what was fair and what wasn’t.

Was she being selfish, limiting his access to Matt? Did she have to protect them both from the Peretti family when Luc had placed himself so unequivocally beside them, prepared to ward off any harmful interference in their lives?

‘It’s not until four o’clock,’ Matt informed, his voice brightening with the hope the late time might make a difference. ‘You can have all day to do other things.’

Skye closed her eyes despairingly. It wasn’t Luc using Matt to pressure her into doing what he wanted. Their son was doing a good job of it all by himself. She heard Luc’s swift intake of breath hissing between his teeth. He was hating this, and God help her, she hated it, too. It wasn’t how it should be for Matt.

Luc spoke, determinedly testing her resistance to the idea. ‘Perhaps I could come by the soccer park…’

Words left hanging for her to pick up on, words carefully strained of any forceful persuasion, words that begged this concession from her.

And she heard herself say, ‘Matt would like that.’

Luc’s relief was palpable.

The thin edge of the wedge, Skye thought, but it was difficult to regret it, listening to Matt’s bubbling pleasure in the possibility his father would come to watch him.

Not possibility.

Certainty.

Skye had no doubt about that. Luc confirmed it before he left that evening, pausing on the front porch to thank her for stretching their agreement and thankfully not pressing her for anything else.

Though his eyes did. His eyes bored into hers, intent on smashing every barrier between them. She knew he wouldn’t be content until there were no limitations on their relationship. But she wasn’t sure what was the driving force behind the burning intent.

Love…possession…revenge?

All of them powerful feelings.

Long into the night Skye lay awake, feeling her own way through Luc’s current conflict with his parents. He’d thrown down the gauntlet to them—lose him or accept her as his wife and Matt as his son. He expected to win the challenge, but would he?

The method used to separate them last time had been an extreme act, demonstrating the depth of his family’s opposition to a relationship which didn’t fit into their world. To Skye’s mind, their grief over losing their younger son, was highly unlikely to change their attitude towards her. They would want Luc to fulfil their plans for him even more now—their one son left to uphold all they stood for.

Luc thought Matt would be a swaying factor—their one grandchild—but Skye doubted her son had the power to pull them into acceptance. The trust fund proved how much they would pay to keep the unwanted by-blow out of their lives. He wasn’t wanted any more than she was.

They probably saw Luc’s reaction to Roberto’s deathbed confession as a rebellion against having been manipulated into giving up a woman he’d wanted—shock at discovering he had a child. His knowledge might stay their hand from any further interference with her life or Matt’s, but there would surely be mounting pressure on Luc to drop them from his life.

It could become a very bitter battle.

Luc had spoken of his parents losing but Skye couldn’t see them rolling over to oblige what might be considered as only wounded pride on his part. Yet it wasn’t pride she felt pulsing from him when he was with her and Matt. It was need. And it kept stirring need in her, as well. Even more unsettling… need in Matt.

Where would it all end?

Roberto’s deathbed revelations had set in motion a train of action she had no way of stopping. Luc was the engine driver and she and Matt were captive passengers. All she could hope for was they didn’t crash against an immovable force which would break them apart with worse wounds to carry into the future.

Eventually Skye fell into a fretful sleep. She was wakened the next morning by an overexcited Matt who declared he was going to practice playing soccer all day. No prizes for working out why, Skye thought wryly. ‘Daddy’ featured in practically everything he said.

Luc was already at the playing field when they arrived. Matt, of course, had spotted the red Ferrari in the parking lot, so there was absolutely no sense of disappointment to suffer through. The only suffering was done by Skye, continually torn by Luc’s and Matt’s pleasure in each other and the fear that she had made a big mistake in not enforcing the limits she had imposed on their relationship.

Yet could the damage be limited, if damage there was going to be? Did time limits mean anything when emotions were involved—emotions that were probably heightened because there wasn’t constant contact. Wasn’t it said, absence made the heart grow fonder?

Watching Matt adoring his father for the caring interest and the soccer advice Luc was giving him as they watched other boys play their games, Skye could barely contain surges of heightened emotion herself. It was all too easy to fall in love with Luc Peretti. Hard experience could bolster her will to fight her feelings, but Matt didn’t know how, wouldn’t understand why there was any necessity to shield himself from possible hurt. She found herself violently thinking she would kill Luc if he ever let Matt down.

There were a hundred and sixty five-year-olds to be graded into teams. Short games were organised for the coaches to view and judge levels of talent. When Matt’s rostered game came up, he ran onto the field with eager anticipation, determined to show how good he was at running after and kicking the soccer ball.

Luc grinned at her as they were left standing on the sidelines. ‘Keen, isn’t he?’

‘Very,’ she dryly agreed. And to stop Luc from assuming too much from the relaxation of rules today, she added, ‘Once they start playing in earnest the soccer matches will be on Saturday.’

His day.

The grin faded into an ironic little smile. ‘My Sundays are not full of other things, Skye. I’d much prefer to spend them with you.’

‘That would be cutting yourself off from the life you’ve led these past six years,’ she said, trying desperately for a matter-of-fact tone.

‘I’m far more interested in a life with you and Matt,’ he returned without the slightest hesitation for second thoughts.

Her eyes begged him to be honest. ‘We don’t belong in your world, Luc.’

‘Are you saying I must give up everything else to have you and Matt?’

Her heart skipped at the intense purpose he loaded into his question. Would he do it? But surely he would regret it if he did, regret it and blame her for forcing such a decision in years to come.

She sucked in a quick breath and answered, ‘No. I’m just saying we’re prisoners of our different backgrounds and it’s foolish not to recognise that reality.’

His mouth quirked into a mocking smile. ‘You’d be surprised how little my background means to me. You hit the nail on the head in calling it a prison—an oppressive prison I wish to be free of.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s not how you’re acting, Luc. The bonds are very tight. You’re pressuring your parents to accept us and they won’t.’

‘I’m simply giving them the chance, Skye.’

‘You’re using force.’

‘No. Just telling them I’ve made my choice. Whether they want to live with it or not is up to them.’

‘You’re prepared to walk away from everything you’ve known?’ She couldn’t believe it.

He 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.