the press report that his engagement to Sophia was over.
How long after she’d returned to Ireland had she read that report? A couple of weeks? The report had made clear that Tonino had ended the engagement.
She could scream. Even if he were speaking the truth about when he ended it, he’d still lied about everything else.
Rubbing her temples even harder, trying not to wince at the pain shooting through her head every time she spoke, she said, ‘Whose apartment did you take me to?’ She remembered more than waking in his bed now. She remembered the apartment itself.
‘Mine.’
‘Codswallop. Don’t forget my brother is a billionaire like yourself—that was not a billionaire’s apartment.’
‘It was the first apartment I bought with my own money when I was twenty. I use it when I want privacy…’
His words rang loud in her head, adding to the growing agony, but pushing at her mind were flashes of what he’d wanted privacy with her for. Those particular memories were still nothing but shimmers yet powerful enough to send a bolt of heat down low in her abdomen.
Once she had craved this man’s touch. She’d craved everything about him.
She’d made love to him and created a life with him.
‘And as for your brother,’ he continued, ‘you never told me you were Dante’s sister and Salvatore Moncada’s daughter. You accuse me of hiding things…’ He downed his wine and blew out a long puff of air. ‘We are losing focus. We are here, now, for one reason only and that is for my son. He is the only thing that matters.’
If he referred to Finn as ‘his son’ again she would swing for him. Well, she would if she had the energy, but she could feel it draining from her body. Since the accident Orla had suffered from frequent, often debilitating headaches and this one was turning into a whopper. No doubt stress and exhaustion had conspired together and she wanted Tonino gone before he witnessed it go into full bloom.
When she answered, it took all her remaining strength not to let the pain in her head infect her voice. ‘At least we can agree on that. Look, Tonino, can we call it a night? Finn’s an early riser and I really need to get some sleep before he wakes up. Hopefully a good night’s sleep will put us both in a better frame of mind and we can talk again in the morning about where we go from here.’
For a long time he didn’t speak, just stared at her, his jaw clenched, firm lips tightly pursed, a pulse throbbing in his temple. ‘Where we go is simple. We tell Finn I am his father and that from now on I am a permanent part of his life.’
‘Fine.’ At that point she would have agreed to anything to be rid of him. It felt as if she had a big bass drum bashing in her head.
The smile he gave chilled her to the bone. ‘And, dolcezza, to be clear, if you attempt to leave my hotel with my son before the morning, I will have no hesitation in launching a full custody battle—and it’s a battle I will win.’
He let himself out of the suite without a backwards glance.
Tonino took a long breath, arranged his features into what he hoped was a non-threatening expression and then knocked on Orla’s door.
He’d done much thinking since leaving her suite, and as the hours had passed the rage inside him had subsided. His behaviour, he recognised, had not been much better than the behaviour he’d accused Orla of, albeit a different kind of abhorrence. For his son’s sake, he needed to build bridges.
The door opened just as he raised his knuckles to knock on it a second time.
Orla looked at him as if he were something a stray cat had dragged in. ‘What time do you call this?’
He took a beat to soak in the thick dark hair, all tousled and spilling over the thin pink robe wrapped around her slender form, and felt a thickening in his loins as he was taken back four years to their first morning together. They’d taken a shower and afterwards he’d expected her to lock herself in the bathroom to paint her face on as all his previous lovers had done. That she hadn’t, that she’d been so comfortable in her skin and so comfortable with him not to feel the need to cover it, had evoked the strangest of feelings in him. Even today he couldn’t explain what that feeling was, but he felt it again now as he stared at the pink, plump lips that had fascinated him as much as everything else about her had.
He’d wanted Orla with a needy desperation he’d never felt before or since. He could hardly believe those feelings were still alive in his veins.
Breathing through his mouth to protect his lungs from filling with her scent, Tonino stepped past her into the suite. ‘You said Finn’s an early riser. He must take after me.’ Not that Tonino had had any sleep that night. How could he when he was still trying to comprehend what he’d discovered yesterday?
Forget that every component of his body was heightened for Orla, he was here for one reason only. His son.
‘Tonino, it’s six thirty.’
‘I know.’ He looked around the living area of the suite. ‘Where is he?’
‘His nurse has taken him for a walk around the gardens.’
‘This early?’
‘He’s been awake for over an hour.’
If he’d known that he would have come earlier instead of pacing his own suite impatiently. ‘When will he be back?’
‘I don’t know. It depends if there’s anything out there that captures his interest.’
‘He likes being outside?’ There was so much to discover about his son. A whole three years’ worth of living to be discovered, including his birth date.
‘He loves it.’ Orla padded over to the window and perched herself on the ledge. She cast a quick glance at Tonino before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and looking out at the early-morning view. ‘Unfortunately Ireland’s reputation for rain is based on fact—we’re not known as the Emerald Isle for nothing—so sunny days are to be cherished.’
‘Marry me and he can have sunshine every day.’
She turned her gaze back to him sharply. ‘What?’
Tonino sat himself down on an armchair and looked straight at her. ‘I have been doing much thinking. I want Finn in my life permanently and the best way I can see to facilitate this is for you to marry me.’
ORLA WAS GLAD she was sitting down. There was a good chance she would have fallen over in shock if she’d still been on her feet. ‘Are you drunk?’
He didn’t look drunk. His hair was damp and even sitting far from him on the windowsill she could smell the heady scent of freshly showered Tonino. She was certain that if she’d been placed in a room blindfolded and made to smell his scent, that alone would have been enough to unlock her memories of him.
He hadn’t shaved but still looked razor-sharp, dark eyes clear and focused intently on her. The wedding suit he’d worn the day before had been replaced with charcoal chinos and a crisp navy shirt that fitted and enhanced his tall, muscular frame perfectly.
God help her but the man was a bigger sex bomb than her broken brain had remembered.
The four years that had passed since they’d conceived Finn had not been kind to Orla. The youthful body she’d taken for granted was now marked and scarred, unrecognisable from the body Tonino must remember. She’d never considered herself vain until she’d stood naked before a mirror for the first time after the accident and burst into tears at what had reflected