‘Monsieur Galanti, there is an urgent call for you from the Paris office, and Monsieur Severo would like to know if you wish to delay the negotiations with Mademoiselle Simpson until tomorrow morning.’ I recognised the voice of his assistant and realised for the first time that the sun was beginning its descent in the distance. It had to be after six o’clock. Obviously Monsieur Severo and his team were keen to get the business portion of the day over with.
‘I’ll take the call from Paris, and tell Etienne Mademoiselle Simpson will be with them shortly,’ Alexi rasped, dragging his fingers through his hair as he continued to stare at me, probably struggling to make sense of what had almost happened just now as much as I was.
‘I should leave,’ I said, the panic starting to overwhelm me. Staying the night on this estate with this man, and all the memories, was fraught with danger. I’d thought I could hack it. I was a lot less sure now. But, as I went to pick up my bag, Alexi touched my wrist.
‘Don’t...’ He ran his fingertip up my arm. Could he feel my instinctive shudder? Probably... But I was way past being humiliated by my response to him. ‘Don’t go, I want you to stay.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
Desire blazed in his eyes for a moment and I was almost scalded by the intensity of it. But then he lifted his fingertip from my arm and tucked his hand into his trouser pocket. ‘Because there is much for my legal team to discuss with you...about our son. I have four years of back maintenance to pay, to begin with.’
I stiffened. ‘Is that why you brought me here, to offer me money? I don’t want your money.’
Did he still think I was a gold-digger?
‘I know that,’ he countered, and the clutching sensation in my stomach released. At least I wasn’t still beating my head against that brick wall any more. ‘But that doesn’t alter the fact I owe you money,’ he added. ‘You and my son. I know it hasn’t been easy for you both since you left Monaco. That you have student loans, a mortgage and other debts. I wish to set up a trust fund for the boy, and give you a generous allowance for his care that will be backdated.’
How did he know so much about my finances? But as soon as I’d asked the question I could guess the answer. He would have had me investigated. I’d expected as much.
But I didn’t want his money. It would compromise me. I didn’t want to give him any ownership of my life, and that included allowing him to pay my debts or give me maintenance. But I forced myself not to reject the suggestion out of hand.
A trust fund for Cai, I could accept. But before I did that we needed to talk about our son. That was why I was really here. And that was what I should concentrate on now. Not the heat between us that would not die.
‘Your son has a name,’ I said quietly.
He frowned. And I realised we had a very long way to go before I could introduce him to Cai. Was he even curious about his son? He hadn’t really asked me anything personal about him yet, hadn’t once referred to him by name. Jessie had been right—this was a relationship for which he wasn’t remotely prepared.
‘You’re right, I know nothing about Cai,’ he said, the deliberateness with which he made himself say his son’s name making me want to weep. ‘If you stay, we can work out the financial arrangements and also have a chance to talk about him. I have missed all his formative years,’ he went on and, while the edge of accusation was no longer there, I could still hear it in my head.
I was the one who had denied them both that emotional connection with my silence. Whether or not Alexi was capable of being a father, how much he even wanted to be one, remained to be seen. But it was no longer for me to make those decisions for him or Cai. ‘I never expected to become a father, so this is new territory for me,’ he added. ‘And I accept that where the boy is concerned I will need your guidance—which is precisely why I’m asking you to stay...’ He paused, his stance stiff, uncomfortable and oddly defensive for a man who rarely, if ever, admitted a weakness. ‘I’m not sure how much of a father I can be to him.’
He shoved both his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers.
I had the weirdest feeling he was trying to prevent himself from touching me. The thought was disturbing on one level, but oddly comforting on another. At least I wasn’t the only one struggling here.
‘So what is your answer?’ he asked. ‘Will you stay so we can continue to discuss this?’
I looked past him, out into the villa’s grounds, the landscaped gardens, the pool, the beach. However hard this was for me, it was time I faced my past—and started preparing myself and my son for our future. A future with Alexi Galanti in it. And learning to rationalise and control my body’s response to him was as much a part of that as anything else.
Turning back to him, I nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll stay.’
My stomach chose that precise moment to rumble louder than the helicopter in which I had arrived. Not all that surprising, given that I hadn’t eaten today, the nerves having got the better of me on the flight over, but still mortifying.
Alexi let out a strained laugh as he watched my face ignite. ‘I will arrange for some supper to be served while you meet with my legal team.’
‘You’re not joining us?’ I asked, then wished I could pull the question back. Why had my voice sounded so eager?
‘Etienne has
my authority to outline my wishes. If there is anything you are not happy with, we can discuss it tomorrow.’
I nodded. ‘That makes sense,’ I said, trying to sound pleased and not stupidly bereft at the thought of not seeing him until tomorrow.
What was wrong with me? Speaking to Etienne and his team without Alexi there would make it much easier not to let the knot of emotion in my stomach override my reason again.
But, just as I was congratulating myself on my pragmatism, he took his hand out of his pocket and tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear.
The sizzle of reaction shot through me, as shocking as it was debilitating.