‘I don’t see much compromise with me moving to where you are,’ Maisie snapped.
‘What’s really keeping you here, Maisie?’ Antonio tried to gentle his tone. Riding roughshod over her feelings wasn’t going to accomplish his goal, and right now all he wanted, all he needed, was for Maisie to agree to move to Italy. Then he could see Ella; he could maintain control and order and distance in a way that satisfied them both. ‘If it’s Max, I’ve already said he needs his freedom. But I’ll be happy to fly him to Milan to visit as many times as you both want.’
Maisie rocked Ella as she shook her head. ‘It’s not just Max.’
‘Then what?’ Antonio demanded.
‘Everything, Antonio,’ she cried. ‘You’re asking me to put my life, and my daughter’s life, in your hands. And, while you might be Ella’s father, you’re still a stranger to me. I can’t help but be more than a little nervous about dropping my entire life to follow you to a foreign country where I don’t know anyone.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘I think I’m a pretty strong person. After my parents died, and we found out there was no money, I soldiered on. I made a home for my brother and me, and I saw him through college. And when I found out I was pregnant I did the same thing. I made it work. But that doesn’t mean I want to walk into a difficult or even impossible situation, one I know little to nothing about, with someone I can’t...’
‘Can’t...?’ Antonio repeated dangerously.
‘Can’t trust,’ she said, a mutinous tilt to her chin. ‘Yet.’
Antonio let out a slow, even breath, determined not to be hurt by her honesty. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I accept we don’t know each other very well. So I’ll put safeguards in place. You can own the house you live in outright, and have a monthly allowance that won’t change, no matter what, on direct debit. I’ll put it all in writing so you can be completely reassured.’
Maisie stared at him, her expression both stunned and stricken. ‘That’s...that’s very generous, Antonio, but it’s not just about money.’
He stared at her, nonplussed. ‘Then what is it about?’
‘My life,’ she cried. ‘And Ella’s life. What if—if Ella gets attached to you and then after a few months or years you feel you’ve had enough? You want to go back to your bimbos and business dismantling?’ Her expression turned fierce, her eyes glittering. ‘I won’t let you break her heart.’
For a second Antonio had the bizarre sensation that Maisie hadn’t just been talking about their daughter. But that was, of course, nonsense. She didn’t like him. She’d made that plain, and it was probably easier if she continued in the same vein. ‘You clearly have a very low opinion of me,’ he remarked, keeping his voice toneless.
‘I need to be careful. For Ella’s sake.’
‘Let’s at least agree on a trial period, then,’ Antonio suggested. ‘Six months. If you’re not satisfied I’m in it for the long haul at the end of six months, we can renegotiate. But you have to agree to stay in Milan for that time.’
He held her gaze, willing her to agree, even as a bitter little seed of fear inside him hoped she wouldn’t. That little seed made him long to run away from this—from Maisie, from Ella—because who was he to attempt to be a father? Have a family? His examples of both were appalling, and the blood-red stain of guilt would always be on his soul. But Maisie didn’t need to know any of that.
‘Six months,’ she said slowly, turning the words over. Antonio nodded.
‘Six months.’
She held his gaze, and the air seemed to tauten and shimmer between them. She looked like Botticelli’s Venus, with her curly red-gold hair surrounding her lovely, heart-shaped face, her eyes wide and vivid green, her pink lips slightly parted. In her arms Ella gurgled and cooed, and the simple sound of innocence tightened something inside Antonio, nearly making him snap. He wanted this. He’d lost so much in his life, messed it up, given it away, but he wanted this. He needed it.
Maisie broke their locked gazes first, her lashes fanning her cheeks as she looked downwards. ‘All right,’ she whispered, and Antonio felt a clench of triumph, a spasm of fear. He wanted this...but what if he failed yet again? What if he lost it all? He didn’t think he had it in him to pay for his sins a second time.
CHAPTER NINE
MAISIE STARED OUT at the cloudless blue sky as the jet took off from the tarmac, her stomach dropping with both the motion and the enormity of what she was doing. Had already done.
The last two days had been a blur of activity as she’d prepared to leave her life in New York and move to Milan. Max had been both incredulous and worried, but even amidst his protestations that she couldn’t go running off with a virtual stranger, never mind that he was Ella’s father, Maisie had detected the tiniest flicker of relief in his eyes. The protests had died off with surprising speed, and instead he’d helped her pack.
But more than for Max, Maisie had to believe she was doing the right thing for Ella. Antonio was Ella’s father, and he deserved the chance to have a relationship with his daughter. And it was only for six months. Although right now, watching from the window as the plane soared up into the sky, six months felt like a very long time.
The motion of the plane had sent Ella to sleep, but now as it levelled out she stirred, opening wide blue eyes to look around in curiosity. Maisie glanced at Antonio, who had been looking at something on his tablet since they’d taken off. In fact, in the two days since she’d made the decision to come to Milan he’d become steadily more and more remote, making Maisie question her decision before she’d even put it into action. It was as if Antonio had got what he wanted, and was done with her...and with Ella.
He hadn’t even held his daughter yet, or looked at her properly. It made Maisie wonder, with more than a touch of panic, why he wanted the two of them to come to Italy with him. Was he going to be like this for ever?
‘Antonio?’ she asked quietly, and he glanced up from his tablet, eyes narrowing.
‘Yes?’
Maisie steeled herself against that look. Why did she feel as if she was a burden to him already? Taking up his precious time? This was exactly what she had been afraid of, in the dark corners of her mind and heart. That by coming to Italy, by trusting herself to him even in just the practical matters, she’d start to feel useless. Burdensome. Adrift.
Her life in New York might not have seemed like much to a man like him, but it had been hers and she’d worked hard for it. The last thing she wanted was to feel like an irritation on the periphery of someone’s life.
‘Maisie?’ Antonio prompted, a touch of impatience in his voice.