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protective barrier had said, coolly unimpressed, not even trying to hide
her suspicion that Holly was simply trying to get her accommodation
upgraded. 'If you don't return to the lodgings we arranged for you, you
will be deemed to have made yourself intentionally homeless. I advise
you to think long and hard before you make that mistake, as you have a
young child to consider. I'll inform your social worker that you're
having problems-'
'No...please don't do that,' Holly had begged, in terror of what such an
interview might mean where Timmie was concerned. Her baby might be taken
away from her and put into care. The last social worker she had spoken
to had started out sympathetic but had lost patience when Holly refused
to name the father of her child. But Jeff had said that if she dared to
tell anyone that he was Timmie's dad he would make her sorry that she
had ever been born...
Well, she was sorry enough herself about that fact, Holly conceded
miserably. She had devastated the parents who loved her by giving birth
to a baby outside marriage. When she had finally admitted that she was
pregnant her father had cried. As long as Holly lived she knew she would
never, ever forget the sight of her father crying...or her own sick
sense of guilt and bitter shame.
Her eyes swimming with tears at that painful recollection, and lost as
she was in her own thoughts, Holly did not even notice that she was
approaching a junction. Staring blankly ahead of her, accustomed to the
noisy flow of traffic down the main road as a background, she was
equally unaware of the lights of a car coming from her right.
The sudden steep drop of the pavement down onto the
road took her by surprise and sent the overladen buggy lurching
off-balance. As she made a frantic effort to right it, the scream of car
tyres striving to brake to a halt alerted her to the danger that she and
Timmie were in. In the split-second at her disposal Holly thrust
Timmie's buggy away from her with all her might in the desperate hope
that it would carry him out of the car's path to safety. But her own
shaken attempt to make it back up onto the pavement was doomed as her
heels hit the kerb and she lost her footing. Falling backwards, she felt
a sickening explosion of pain at the base of her skull and then
blackness folded in and she knew no more.
Rio Lombardi leapt out of the limousine. 'Did we hit her?' he demanded.
'No!' Ezio, who could move at the speed of light when required, was
already retrieving the buggy and drawing it back from the other side of
the road to a safer resting place.
'I didn't hit her... saw her; I was already slowing down. But she walked
out into the road without looking and just fell over!' Rio's chauffeur
exclaimed over the top of the driver's door, his attention lodged in
horror on the still figure lying in the path of the headlights.
'Call an ambulance...a private one from the foundation hospital; it'll
be faster,' Rio instructed harshly, his tone of command pronounced to
steady his companions.
He crouched down on the road and lifted a limp wrist to feel for a
pulse, drawing in a slow deep breath of relief when he found what he
sought. Although her skin felt frighteningly cold to his touch, she was
alive. 'She's not dead...' Springing upright again, he peeled off his
suit jacket and bent down to carefully drape it over her, surveying the
face of the unconscious victim for the first time. 'Dio mio...she's
little more than a child!'
A very pretty child too, Rio found himself conceding,
14
scanning that delicate bone-structure and the mass of bronze-coloured
ringlets rioting round her small head, their vibrant colour only serving
to accentuate her pallor. 'What is she doing out with a baby at this
hour? Did you see what she did for the baby? She was ready to sacrifice
her own life to give it a chance-'
'She's probably its mother, boss,' Ezio suggested, lowering his mobile
phone, having made the requested call for immediate medical attendance
at the scene. It's depressing, but kids are giving birth to kids all the
time these days.'
Rio found himself strangely reluctant to accept that opinion. After a
second, lengthier appraisal, he was prepared to concede that the girl
could possibly be seventeen or eighteen years old. But she looked so
innocent and untouched, and he had already noticed that she wore no
rings. Ezio stooped to retrieve his employer's jacket.
'What are you doing?' Rio demanded.
'I got your overcoat from the car, boss. It'll keep her warmer. There's
no point you catching pneumonia.' Ezio had to pitch his voice higher to
be heard above the noisy sobs now emanating from the depths of the
covers heaped on the buggy.
'I'm OK. I wish we could risk moving her into the limo.
Giovanni...you're a family man; comfort the child,' Rio urged his other
bodyguard as he accepted the overcoat from Ezio but chose to lay it
gently over the top of his suit jacket to provide an extra layer of
warmth for the girl. 'She's frozen through.'
'Timmie...?' Her head pounding fit to burst, Holly surfaced and with a
heroic effort raised her head, reacting to the sound of her son's cries.
Not a pain cry though, only an anxious cry, she recognised in instant
relief. 'My baby?'
Rio gazed down into huge anxious eyes as disconcertingly blue as a
Tuscan midsummer sky. 'Your baby's fine. Lie still. An ambulance is on
its way-'
'I can't go to hospital...I've got Timmie to take care of!' Initially
bemused by that deep dark drawl with its unexpected liquid foreign
accent larding every syllable, Holly was startled when the man dropped
down on a level with her and pressed on her shoulder to prevent her from
lifting herself higher.
Mouth running dry, she stared up at him just as he turned his arrogant
dark head away, presenting her with his bold profile and the impossibly
smooth, proud lines of a high cheekbone to address someone else out of
her view. 'Have you contacted the police yet?'
'No police...please,' Holly broke in shakily. 'Are you the bloke that
was in the car?'
In silent response, he turned back to nod in confirmation, regarding her
with dramatic dark golden eyes which could have turned a saint into a
sinner overnight.
Shaken by that abstracted thought, Holly said, 'We don't need the police
or an ambulance. I'm all right. I tripped and knocked myself out for a
second...that's all-'
'Have you any family... a boyfriend I can contact on your behalf?' he
prompted, very much as if she hadn't spoken.
Even though it hurt, she turned her head away in self-protection. 'Nobody.'
"There's got to be somebody. A friend, a relative, surely?' he persisted.
'Well, maybe you're coming down with them but I've got nobody,' she
muttered in a voice that wobbled in spite of all her efforts to control it.
Rio studied her in frustration. She wasn't a Londoner. She had a
pronounced country brogue with rounded vowel so
unds but he could not
place it, although he had a vague recollection of once hearing an
exaggerated version of a
16
similar accent in a stage comedy. First things first, he reminded
himself. 'What age are you?'
'Twenty. I don't want the police...do you hear me?' Fear made her
strident and she began to sit up in spite of the sick whirling sensation
that engulfed her the moment she moved. If she went into hospital, the
police would call in the authorities to take charge of Timmie and he
would be put in a foster home.
When she swayed backwards, Rio shot a supportive arm round her narrow
spine. 'You must have medical attention. I promise you that you will not
be parted from your child.'
'How? How can you promise that?' she gasped.
