he walked into his apartment almost a week later. He stopped just inside the door. She was here. She hadn’t left as he’d told her to. Her scent was still in the air.
He felt that betraying little hum of electricity in his blood that had been missing since she’d left Italy.
He didn’t want to see her.
He knew it was irrational, but the memory of her kneeling on the bed with the sheet clutched to her breasts that morning as she’d entreated him had pushed him right over the edge.
He’d still been raw after the previous night. And so he’d told her that she had to move out before he’d even been aware of the impulse. Something had knotted tight in his gut—an intense rejection of her attempt to try and take advantage of the intimacy that shouldn’t have happened.
He should never have given in to his base desires in Italy. It was as if she was some kind of a witch…stealing slice after slice of his soul until soon there’d be nothing left but a husk of a man. A shell.
Damn her. And damn himself for not being strong enough to resist her. He’d known she was treacherous—he’d known it. But he’d had to have her. An unquenchable fire had taken hold that he’d had to douse or die. But sleeping with her had only escalated the hunger inside him.
He’d had disturbing dreams since she’d left: Rose in a hospital bed, her golden hair flowing around her shoulders. Face pink from labour. A huge smile curving that lush mouth. Eyes wide with wonder as she looked down at a downy dark head nestled at her bare breast. Then she looked up at Zac, and a feeling of such wonder, yearning and awe filled him that he couldn’t move.
Rose had frowned slightly in the dream, and put out a hand as if to beckon him, but Zac’s feet had started moving backwards against his will. He’d wanted to reach out, he’d wanted to go to them…but they’d been fading…and then Rose had dropped her hand and just shrugged slightly, as if she wasn’t that bothered, devoting her attention back to the baby.
Zac rubbed his chest absently, unaware that he was trying to assuage a heavy, tight feeling. And then he dropped his hand. Enough. This was where it ended and he began to get back some control of his life.
He moved forward through the door to the apartment and stepped inside. Rose was sitting on the couch, and when she saw him she stood up. She looked pale, determined. And even though he’d known she was there, reaction still slammed into his body like a wrecking ball.
‘I thought I told you to move out by the time I got back?’
He walked straight over to the living room bar and helped himself to a measure of whisky.
‘I have.’ Her voice came from behind him. Quiet.
He turned around. ‘So? To what do I owe the honour?’
He saw how some colour came into her cheeks at his tone, and then she said, ‘I need to speak to you for a few minutes.’
Zac looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got a charity function to attend—can’t it wait?’
Rose stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her. ‘It won’t take long. I need to explain something to you… Well, everything, actually.’
Something inside Zac went very still at the intensity of her gaze. As much as he was itching to get out of her far too disturbing orbit, he was also intrigued.
‘My car is picking me up in half an hour. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’
Rose cursed her jumping nerves, self-conscious in her jeans and plain shirt. Zac clearly didn’t welcome seeing her here, and that had hurt more than she’d thought it would. But she knew that if she didn’t do this now she’d lose her nerve. And she wanted to tell him before his grandmother had a chance to get to him. She’d taken a huge gamble earlier today and she had to pray she’d done the right thing, putting her trust in Zac. Her father’s life depended on it.
‘Well?’
He’d put down his glass and was standing with his hands in his suit pockets, legs spread. Intimidating. Powerful. It galvanised her to put some distance between them and she went and stood close to the windows.
She faced him again from across the safer distance, took a breath, and dived in. ‘Your grandmother came to me with the plan to set you up.’
Zac’s face darkened with impatience. ‘It was either you or her, and to be quite frank it doesn’t really matter who initiated it. Look, if you’re not going to tell me something new—’
Emotion rose up inside Rose as she choked out, ‘It does matter. And I need to tell you why I said yes in the first place—’ She stopped abruptly and took a breath. ‘It was for my father.’
The words hung in the air between them.
Zac frowned. ‘What’s your father got to do with this?’
Rose’s legs were feeling shaky, so she sat down again on the nearest chair. She looked at Zac and said helplessly, ‘Everything.’
He stared at her, and she half expected him to walk out, but he didn’t.
He said grimly, ‘Go on.’
‘If I tell you what I’m going to tell you I need you to promise me something first.’
His mouth tightened. ‘You’re really not in a position to bargain.’
Rose stood up again. She had to be strong for this. ‘I want this baby to be a Valenti too, Zac. I don’t want any part in your grandmother’s scheme. But if I’m to go against her for you, and this baby, I need you to match what she was paying me.’
Zac got angry. ‘Now you’re willing to negotiate?’
He paced back and forth, energy crackling across the space between them.
‘It’s not a negotiation.’
Her voice rang out, harsher than she’d ever heard it. And it stopped Zac too.
She went on. ‘The reason I could never tell you the price she paid me is because this was never about money—’
‘Oh, please—’
‘It wasn’t,’ she said, in the face of his blatant disbelief.
‘If it wasn’t about money then what was it about?’
Rose felt numbness stealing over her, cushioning her slightly from Zac’s blistering impatience. ‘My father is ill. Very ill. He needs an operation on his heart and it’s one of the most expensive operations in the world. He was a driver for your family for years. You know him.’
Rose could see Zac trying to compute this information, and eventually he said incredulously, ‘Séamus O’Malley? He’s your father?’
Rose nodded, feeling emotional. ‘Yes. It started a few months ago. He wasn’t feeling well and we couldn’t figure out what was wrong. After tests the doctors realised that it was his heart. He told me the results over the phone when I was at work in your grandmother’s house. Our insurance is basic, at best. It was devastating news, because we knew we could never afford the operation he needed.’
Rose continued.
‘But before I go any further I need your promise that you’ll take over the care of my father, protect him from any possible repercussions that come out of my telling you everything. He’s due to have the operation in two days. If he doesn’t have it he won’t last until the end of the year—’
Her voice had cracked on the last words, but Zac appeared unmoved.
‘Why should I do this?’
‘Because he’s an innocent party in this. He doesn’t deserve to suffer because of my mistakes.’
Zac prowled