‘Hi,’ she said, looking surprised and then gifting me with a brilliant smile that made her look surprisingly pleased to see me and turned her pretty features into something more.
I tensed, instantly suspicious.
I had been prepared for a frosty reception from Belle and her cousin this morning, and possibly my son too. They were not expecting me, but as I’d watched the lights on Belle’s car disappearing into the darkness yesterday I’d made a few important decisions. As a result, I’d spent two hours this morning rearranging my schedule for the next three weeks so I could remain most of the time in Monaco.
I was here not just to face up to my responsibilities concerning the boy but also to apprise Belle of one important fact. She could no longer keep me out of his life, or hers. I’d seen the panic in her expressive eyes the night before, and had realised her suggestion that I wait weeks more to introduce myself to my son had nothing to do with the child’s welfare and everything to do with the events in my bedroom.
‘It’s Mr Galanti, isn’t it?’ the woman said, offering her hand as I stepped inside. ‘My name’s Jessie Burton. I’m Belle’s cousin—we met in Barcelona but I doubt you’ll remember me,’ she added as she shook my hand in a firm grip. ‘You had eyes only for Belle that
day, and Cai.’ She continued to beam, apparently not upset I had ignored her. ‘Come through to the terrace,’ she said, as she let go of my hand and led me into the house. ‘Belle and Cai are having breakfast.’
As I stepped into the main living area, I spotted Belle and my son seated at the table on the terrazza. The panoramic view of Nice behind them was quite spectacular, and one of the reasons I had insisted on this house for them, but it wasn’t the view that had the air clogging my lungs. The cousin, whose name I’d already forgotten, was still chatting about something but her words faded, my heartbeat pounding in my eardrums. I hesitated as the blast of longing blindsided me the way it had the night before....and so many other nights before that.
Spotlighted in the morning sun, Belle wore a simple pair of summer shorts and a T-shirt, her wild hair tied back in a tidy ponytail. But even in the simple, tomboyish attire she looked exquisite as she chuckled at something the boy had said.
And so young—not old enough to have a child. Not old enough to have made love to me with such unbridled passion last night.
‘Belle, we have a surprise guest for breakfast,’ the cousin called out as she approached the table.
The little boy’s dark head whipped round and his eyes, so like Remy’s, locked on mine. ‘Who is he?’ he said bluntly.
But it was his mother’s reaction which made the heat pulse low in my abdomen.
She stiffened, clearly shocked by my appearance, and then the colour on her cheeks—devoid of make up this morning which made the sprinkle of freckles look all the more delicious—flared.
‘Alexi?’ she murmured, clearly not as pleased to see me as her cousin.
The boy, who had scrambled down from his chair, ran towards me.
‘Who are you?’ he asked as he reached me.
He stood with his small fists perched on his hips and his chin thrust out.
Wearing a pair of pyjamas, decorated with a cartoon sports car with a smiling face, the child should have looked cute but instead he looked fierce, his compact body rigid with tension, his expression wary and his stance oddly confrontational. Clearly, he didn’t remember meeting me all those weeks ago.
‘Why are you here?’ the child demanded.
A smile creased my lips despite the tension in my own belly.
The boy was defending his mother.
‘Cai, you mustn’t speak to Mr Galanti so rudely.’ The cousin stepped in, placing her hands on the boy’s shoulders.
‘Mr Galanti is...’ the cousin began, and then stopped and swung her head round to Belle for guidance, who sat stiffly at the table, still struck dumb by my appearance.
Realisation dawned at the cousin’s hesitation. So Belle hadn’t told my son of our relationship.
Irritation gripped my insides. Was she still trying to keep him from me?
It was a struggle to keep my tone even and non-confrontational as I knelt down to introduce myself to the child.
‘My name is Alexi Galanti.’ I lifted my gaze to Belle who had finally got over her shock and was walking towards us.
The look on her face said it all—guilt, regret and panic.
The panic could only be from one fear—that I would introduce myself to the child as his father before he was ready.
My irritation increased. But I clamped down on it.