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‘Yes, but I fully intend for that trial to be a success.’
‘How is it meant to work exactly, Antonio?’ Maisie bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to get serious so soon; she’d started this conversation intending for Antonio to tell her about the tourist sights. But perhaps it was better this way, because she needed to know.
‘I suppose we’ll make it up as we go along,’ Antonio said slowly. ‘I’m new to this too, obviously. The first thing is to get you and Ella settled. I’ve already arranged for us to view some suitable houses tomorrow.’
‘So soon?’
‘The sooner you both feel at home, the better.’
Or the sooner he could get them out of his own house and life? Maisie couldn’t escape the feeling that Antonio was trying to put her and Ella into a tidy little compartment and keep them there. It shouldn’t bother her really, because she didn’t want to become emotionally attached to Antonio. That would be disastrous...for both her and Ella. It was the thing she was most afraid of.
After Ella had dozed off, the flight attendant kindly provided a bassinet for her to sleep in.
‘It takes a steady hand,’ Antonio murmured as Maisie performed the tricky manoeuvre of getting Ella into the cot without waking her up. She held her breath as her daughter stirred, her face screwing up as if she were about to let out a blood-curdling scream before she suddenly relaxed, eyelids fluttering, and let out a breathy sigh of sleep.
Maisie matched it with her own sigh of relief as she sank back into her seat. ‘Hopefully she’ll sleep for a few hours at least.’ She glanced out at the darkening sky. ‘It’s already past her bedtime.’
‘You said she has trouble sleeping?’
‘No more than most babies.’ For some reason Maisie felt defensive, as if Antonio was questioning whether she was a good mother. ‘She’s barely three months old. She’ll settle down into a routine, I’m sure.’
‘I’m sure.’
Maisie glanced out of the window, the sky darkening to indigo. Their lounger seats in First Class felt like a secluded and private enclave, even more so now that Ella was asleep. Alone with Antonio, without her baby to focus on and use as a sort of barrier, Maisie didn’t know how to act with this man who was still more stranger than not. Didn’t know how to feel.
A flight attendant paused by their seats to give them menus. Maisie glanced down at the options for a five-course meal, bemused.
‘This sounds better than anything I’ve ever eaten in a restaurant,’ she remarked.
‘It certainly beats Economy Class,’ Antonio answered with a smile.
Maisie laughed and shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never even been on an airplane.’ Antonio looked so surprised that she half wished she hadn’t admitted as much. It seemed she was always going to be acknowledging her innocence, her inexperience. She knew nothing of life because the years she should have been at school, exploring the city and learning about life, she’d been working two full-time jobs to support her and Max. Right now it made her feel terribly gauche.
‘I look forward to introducing you to some new experiences, then,’ Antonio said smoothly, and Maisie couldn’t decide if there was innuendo, or even intent, in his tone. He’d introduced her to some rather extraordinary new experiences already. ‘But first,’ Antonio added, nodding towards her menu, ‘let’s order.’
* * *
Antonio watched Maisie eye him uncertainly and wondered what he was playing at. No doubt she was wondering, too. Somehow, thousands of miles up in the air, it felt easy to discard his rules and resolutions and simply be, enjoying time spent with both Maisie and Ella. Flirt a little even.
Holding his daughter had been an extraordinary experience. He’d been wary of it, because when it came to family relationships he feared he was the opposite of Midas, with everything he touched turning to ruin. But then Maisie had handed Ella to him, and he’d had no choice but to take her. It had been the most wonderful thing in the world; her smile had reached right inside him and grabbed his heart. Squeezed hard, and never let go. Now more than ever he knew he’d made the right decision in bringing Maisie and Ella to Italy with him. No matter what.
As for Maisie... Antonio couldn’t come up with an acceptable explanation for ordering champagne with their dinner, or clinking glasses, or giving her a slow, considering smile as they sipped fizz and worked their way through five courses while Ella slept and the lights in the first-class cabin darkened, making everything feel more intimate. No reason at all...and yet he did it. Because he wanted to.
As they ate and drank he asked about her childhood, what life was like when her parents were alive, how she had got into music and what she liked most about performing. The questions came naturally, seeming to surprise them both. Maisie’s answers started out stumbling and uncertain, but gradually became more confident and interested.
‘I love playing the violin, but it’s a private thing,’ she said as he poured more champagne and they started on their main course. ‘Performing has never interested me as much. The music itself is what feeds my soul, not whether people are listening.’
‘Feeds your soul,’ Antonio repeated musingly. ‘An interesting turn of phrase.’
‘What feeds your soul, Antonio?’ Maisie asked lightly. ‘Taking apart companies?’ He glanced at her appraisingly, acknowledging the very slightly scornful note in her voice. ‘Sorry.’ She grimaced. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean to spoil the mood...’
‘But you don’t agree with what I do.’ He stated it mildly, or tried to.
‘No, I don’t.’ She lifted her chin in a gesture Antonio already recognised as the way she gathered her courage. ‘Ruining people’s lives, all for the sake of profit...’
‘They were going to be ruined anyway.’ He tried to keep his voice even, tried not to feel the hurt. What did he care if Maisie thought he was some ruthless, renegade businessman? The newspapers and gossip rags liked to paint that picture, and he kept the altruistic side of his business ventures quiet. Very quiet. In any case, having Maisie think he was some cruel businessman was better than her knowing the truth.
‘Were they really going to be ruined?’ she asked, angling her chin a fraction higher. ‘Or would some jobs be saved, some lives be sav
