much she’d love to own a dog.
‘I have a dog,’ Stefano revealed, and Carly stifled a mental groan in the knowledge that he had just won a massive slice of Ann-Marie’s interest, for the ‘no animals allowed’ rule enforced by the apartment managers ensured that tenants couldn’t have pets.
Ann-Marie could barely hide her excitement. ‘What sort of dog?’
Carly waited with bated breath, and had her worst fears confirmed with Stefano enlightened her. ‘A Dobermann pinscher.’
‘Mummy said that one day when we live in a house we can have a poodle.’
Stefano cast Carly a musing glance at her choice before turning his attention back to his daughter. ‘In that case, we’ll have to see about getting you one.’
It was bribery, pure and simple, and Carly hated him for it.
By the time Ann-Marie was settled happily in bed and asleep, it was clear that Stefano had succeeded in winning a place in his daughter’s affections.
‘I have to congratulate you,’ Carly said quietly as she handed him some freshly made coffee. Then she crossed the small lounge and selected a chair as far distant from his as possible.
His gaze was startlingly level. ‘On developing an empathy with my daughter?’
She met his eyes and held their gaze with all the force of her maternal instincts. ‘If you do anything to hurt her—ever,’ she emphasised softly, ‘I’ll kill you.’
He didn’t speak for several long seconds, and Carly felt close to screaming point. ‘You wanted for her to hate me?’
‘No. No,’ she repeated shakily, knowing that it wasn’t true.
‘Yet you decry the speed with which she has gifted me a measure of her affection,’ Stefano pursued.
She refused to admit it, and stirred her coffee instead, wanting only for the evening to end so that she could be free of his disturbing presence.
‘Gaining her trust won’t be achieved overnight,’ he discounted drily, adding, ‘And love has to be earned.’
‘Why agree to gift her a poodle?’
‘I said we would have to see about getting her one,’ he responded evenly, and she instantly flared,
‘A Dobermann and a poodle both on the same property?’
‘Prince is a well-trained guard dog who is exceptionally obedient. I doubt there will be a problem.’
‘And it matters little to you that I might have a problem moving into your home?’
His eyes were hard, with no hint of any softness. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage to overcome it.’
Suddenly she’d had enough, and she replaced her cup down on the coffee-table, then rose to her feet. ‘I’m tired and I’d like you to leave.’
He followed her movements with a lithe indolence, then covered the distance to the front door. ‘Be packed and ready at midday. I’ll collect you.’
She wanted to hit him, and she lifted her hand, only to have it caught in a merciless grip.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Stefano warned silkily. ‘This time I won’t be so generous.’
There could be little doubt about the veiled threat, and she looked at him in helpless anger, wanting so much to strike out in temper, yet forced to contain it out of consideration to a sleeping child who, should she wake and perchance witness such a scene, would be both puzzled and frightened, and unable to comprehend the cause.
Stefano released her hand, then he opened the door and moved out into the foyer without so much as a backward glance.
CARLY EXPERIENCED A sense of acute nervousness as she caught sight of Stefano’s imposing double-storeyed French-château-style home. Situated in the exclusive suburb of Clontarf and constructed of grey stone, it sat well back from the road in beautifully kept grounds.
A spreading jacaranda tree in full bloom with its carpet of lilac flowers provided a fitting backdrop to an assortment of precision-clipped shrubs, and symmetrical borders filled with a variety of colourful flowers that were predominantly red, pink, white and yellow.
Dear lord, what had she done? The enormity of it all settled like a tremendous weight on her slim shoulders. In the space of fifteen hours she had packed, cleaned the apartment, notified the leasing agent, and confided in Sarah. And tossed and turned for the short time she’d permitted herself to sleep. Now she had to face reality.
The car drew to a halt adjacent to the main entrance, and no sooner had Stefano slid out from behind the wheel than a short, well-built man of middle years emerged from the house to retrieve several suitcases from the capacious boot.
‘Joe Bardini,’ Stefano told them as Carly and Ann-Marie slid from the car. ‘Joe and his wife Sylvana look after the house and grounds.’
The man’s smile was warm, and his voice when he spoke held the barest trace of an Italian accent. ‘Sylvana is in the kitchen preparing lunch. I will tell her you have arrived.’
Some of Carly’s tension transmitted itself to her daughter, for Ann-Marie’s fingers tightened measurably within her own as Stefano led the way indoors.
The foyer was spacious, with cream-streaked marble tiles and delicate archways either side of a magnificent double staircase leading to the upper floor. The focal point was a beautiful crystal chandelier, spectacular in design by day. Carly could only wonder at its luminescence by night.
‘Would you prefer to explore the house before or after lunch?’
‘Can we now?’ Ann-Marie begged before Carly had a chance to utter so much as a word, and Stefano cast his daughter a musing glance.
‘Why not? Shall we begin upstairs?’
‘Yes, please.’
They ascended one side of the curving staircase, and on reaching the upper floor he directed them left to two guest rooms and a delightful bedroom suite with a connecting bathroom.
‘Is this where I’m going to sleep?’ Ann-Marie asked as she looked at the softly toned bedcovers.
‘Do you like it?’ Stefano asked gently, and she nodded.
‘It’s very pretty. Can Sarah come visit sometimes?’
‘Of course,’ he answered solemnly.
‘Sarah lives in the apartment next door,’ Ann-Marie explained carefully. ‘She is our very best friend.’
To the right of the central staircase Stefano opened a door leading into the main suite, and Carly’s eyes flew to two queensize beds separated by a double pedestal. A spacious en suite was visible, and there was an adjoining sitting-room complete with soft leather chairs, a television console, and escritoire.
‘We’ll use this suite,’ Stefano indicated, and Carly refrained from comment, choosing instead to shoot him a telling glance as she preceded him to the head of the stairs.
If he thought she’d share the same bedroom with him, he had another think coming!
Once downstairs he led them into a formal lounge containing items of delicate antique furniture, deep-seated sofas and single chairs, employing a visually pleasing mix of cream, beige and soft sage-green. Oil-paintings graced the walls, a sparkling crystal chandelier hung suspended from a beautiful filigree-plastered ceiling, and wide floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors opened out on to a covered terrace.
Even at a glance it was possible to see the blue-tiled swimming-pool beyond the terrace, and catch a glimpse of the