I’m not your child. I’m an adult. Dante gave me my share of what was left of our father’s estate and got his lawyers to make the insurance company pay out. I have money of my own right now.’
‘How much?’
‘Enough to keep me going for a few years.’
‘Marry me and you need never worry about money again.’
She gave a splutter that could have been laughter or exasperation. ‘How many times are we going to have this conversation before you get it in your thick head that I’m not going to marry you?’
‘My mother assured me throughout my childhood that it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. I have every intention of changing yours.’
‘Good luck with that. I’m a stubborn mule.’
‘And I’ve never been able to resist a challenge.’ He poured himself some more wine and contemplated her lazily. Now that he’d put her mind at ease about her travelling to Sicily with Finn, she’d visibly relaxed.
She had the peaceful air about her that he remembered from before and for a moment he could almost imagine they were the same two people they’d been then.
But of course they weren’t. He wasn’t the same man. And she wasn’t the same woman. Her memory was mostly repaired and she looked the same as she’d done four years ago but her movements had lost much of their old grace. She tired easily. Even the way she ate, holding her knife and fork so tightly, cutting her food with such concentration…
‘You were six months pregnant when the accident happened?’ he asked carefully.
She nodded. A sad smile curved her cheeks. ‘Finn was born by emergency Caesarean. He spent eight weeks in Intensive Care. They didn’t think he was going to make it.’ A spark flashed in her eyes. ‘But our son’s a fighter. He proved them all wrong.’
Feeling his stomach clench then churn, he took a moment to ask, ‘And you? Was there a danger you wouldn’t have made it?’
She hesitated before giving the tiniest of nods. ‘I was in a coma for three weeks and then under sedation for another month. But I’m fine now,’ she hastened to add. ‘And things are massively better with Finn too. We know what we’re dealing with and I always think that’s half the battle.’
‘Who looked after him while you were in hospital? Aislin?’ She’d already said Aislin had been the one to register Finn’s birth.
She gave another nod. ‘She quit her degree—quit her life—to look after us both. When I finally came home, she taught me how to care for him. Finn is my miracle. Aislin is my angel.’
She’d already described Dante as her knight in shining armour. So what did that make Tonino?
He thought it better not to ask.
‘Where was your mother in all this?’
An emotion he couldn’t determine flittered over her face. ‘I haven’t seen my mother in seven years. As far as I know she’s in San Francisco.’
‘She wasn’t there for you?’
She picked up her wine glass and stared at the burgundy liquid. ‘I don’t think she’s ever been there for me. Aislin and I spent more time with our grandparents next door than we ever did with her. Two weeks after Aislin finished high school our mother scarpered to Asia and never came back.’
Even the edge to her voice, never mind her words, struck Tonino like a blow. It was a tone he’d never heard before and he peered closely at her. ‘Never?’
The misery he witnessed on her face struck him like a second blow.
She swallowed before answering. ‘Put it this way, she’s never met Finn.’
A grandmother who’d never met her only grandchild? Surely not? ‘What about when you were in the coma and he was in Intensive Care?’
‘She texted Aislin for updates.’
That struck him even harder than Orla’s other revelations.
He imagined her hooked to machines, locked in her own head, unable to communicate, unable to respond to anything and his heart swelled so greatly it became an effort to breathe. To think her own mother had abandoned her to that fate without one single visit defied all humanity.
Little wonder Orla struggled to trust and open up to people. Of the two people whose job had been to love her and raise her, one had rejected her in the womb, the other doing the bare essentials until she could leave for good.
His throat moved before he asked hoarsely, ‘How did the accident happen?’
‘I don’t remember.’ She shook her head as if clearing her ears. ‘That period is still a blur. I don’t even remember where I was going. I know it must have been somewhere important because there was a bad storm and I’m not comfortable driving in bad weather. I know I had a collision with a Transit van but I don’t remember anything of the accident itself.’ Suddenly she grinned. It made her whole face light up. ‘Probably just as well. I’m terrible around blood.’
He returned the grin, glad of the lightening of mood.
But he couldn’t escape the feeling in his guts that there was more to Orla’s injuries than she was sharing with him.
As they left the cosy warmth of the Bally House Hotel restaurant, the breezy chill in the air outside came as something of a shock, especially as Orla had neglected to bring a jacket with her. She looked up at the sky and was disappointed to find all the stars hidden under thick cloud. Summer was practically over, she thought wistfully.
Yawning as the long day finally caught up with her, she rubbed her arms for warmth. Eagle-eyed Tonino noticed and removed his charcoal suit jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ she protested.
‘I’m not cold,’ he answered smugly.
And now, neither was she. Tonino’s jacket was so big and contained so much warmth that it enveloped her body like a giant hug.
Its warmth came from his body heat.
The driver noticed their approach and opened the back door for her.
She climbed inside and was about to reluctantly give Tonino his jacket back when he slid in beside her.
‘You don’t need to escort me back,’ she chided, smothering another yawn.
‘I want to see you home safely.’
The driver pulled away.
‘Don’t be silly.’ She smothered yet another yawn. She was utterly exhausted and yet…
Alone with Tonino in the confines of the back seat of his car, the partition between them and the driver raised…
Suddenly she was aware of the beats of her heart and the thickening of her blood.
Suddenly she was aware of Tonino’s cologne dancing through her airwaves. The urge to rub her cheek into his jacket still draped over her shoulders became almost irresistible.
And suddenly she was aware of his thigh pressed against hers.
She should move away from him. Edge herself to the door. Create a distance.
She knew what she should do. Her body had other thoughts and was refusing to take orders from her brain. She cleared her throat. ‘You’ve only got to come all the way back and it’s not like you’ll see Finn—he’ll be asleep.’ The car’s interior darkened as they drove through the thick woodland. ‘You should get some sleep too before all that travelling you’ve got to do…’
His