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Gypsy started to tremble from her feet up. What Rico was saying was so huge. Massive. He wanted them to stay together. For ever? It was all at once the most exhilarating thing and the most terrifying. And in the midst of it all was her bone-deep ingrained fear and panic.
That snide voice was reminding her that men like Rico were masters of getting what they wanted. That he had swept in and taken them over. Look at them now—living on an island, effectively cut off from everything and everyone. And she had no idea how Rico really felt about her. He might be able to forgive her now, but what if that resentment was still there, buried and festering away? What if his desire waned and he wanted another woman?
Gypsy shook her head and started to back away, noticing the flash of Rico’s eyes. He stood up straight at the desk, and his quick anger at her less than compliant response seemed to add fuel to her reasoning.
‘You want me to agree to your plans just like that?’ She snapped her fingers. ‘You’ve been in our lives for a month, Rico, and suddenly you think that we can be a family?’
His frame bristled with energy. His jaw was tight. ‘You’re just saying that because it’s hard for you to trust me.’
‘Don’t patronise me, Rico. From the word go you’ve stormed in and had it all your own way. This is exactly what I was afraid of.’
‘Gypsy—’ he sounded frustrated now ‘—you’re not being rational.’
Something deep within Gypsy was surging up—something that had been buried for a long time. ‘I am not my mother, Rico. I am not mentally weak. I have skills. I can take care of myself and my daughter.’
‘I’m not saying you can’t. What I’m saying is that I want to be there too. I want us to be together.’
‘Because you want to control us.’ Gypsy knew now that she was being irrational, but she couldn’t stop.
‘No! Dammit, Gypsy, no. Not because I want to control you but because I love Lola. I don’t want to be separated from her and I—’ He stopped abruptly, concern etched on his face. ‘What? What is it?’
He even came towards her, but she waved him back—if he touched her now…For a heart-stopping moment she’d thought he was about to say he loved her, and when he hadn’t…she’d felt like collapsing. Of course he loved Lola. And he wanted to do what was best for her. A million miles from her own father. Suddenly Gypsy felt ashamed.
Rico’s voice was tight. ‘Look, what is it going to take for me to prove that you can trust me and that I’m not like your father?’
Gypsy lifted stinging eyes to Rico and,
with a guilt that nearly crippled her, said the one thing she wanted least. But she couldn’t stop it—as if on some level she thought if he could prove this then she would gladly give him everything, even if he didn’t love her.
‘I want to know that you will let us go if we want to—that you won’t cut yourself off from Lola just to punish me.’
With his features pale and stark, Rico said nothing for a long moment, and then he walked out of the study. Before Gypsy could wonder what he was doing he came back and held out a key. She saw that it was the key to the Jeep.
‘Go on—take it. I’ve instructed Agneta to pack up some things.’
Numbly Gypsy took the key and looked up into Rico’s eyes. They were a cool slaty grey. ‘You’re just going to let us go? Right now? Like this?’
His mouth was a thin line. ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what it’s going to take?’
Suspecting he was just proving a point, but feeling utterly confused and bewildered, and thinking that perhaps even Rico had had enough by now, Gypsy nodded dumbly. She’d meant that she wanted him to assure her that he would let them go if she wanted, but now she realised that she might not have trusted that either. And through all of that was the heart-searing realisation that he could let her walk away—because she meant nothing to him.
Things happened quickly, and through it all a numbness settled over Gypsy as bags were put in the boot of the Jeep and as she strapped a bemused Lola into her chair. Poor Agneta was looking on, wringing her hands as if she had done something wrong.
Rico stood back. The only thing he said was, ‘This doesn’t mean you’re out of my life. Lola will always know I’m here.’
Gypsy got into the Jeep and held herself together as she started it up with a shaking hand. She had no earthly idea what to do or where to go. She was proving her point, and it was a disaster. But she drove out of the villa anyway, and set off along the coast road.
Almost immediately a plaintive wail came from the back of the Jeep. ‘Papa!’
In her shock, Gypsy nearly swerved. Hearing Lola call Rico Papa for the first time, as if she’d just made the connection now that they were leaving, undid her completely. She had to pull over to a layby because her eyes were so blurred with tears.
And then Lola was wailing in earnest at Gypsy’s distress.
The two of them were sitting there sobbing when suddenly Gypsy’s door was wrenched open and Rico stood there, demanding, ‘What is it? Did you crash? What’s wrong?’
But Gypsy couldn’t get a word out. She was crying too hard, even though Lola’s wails had stopped and she was saying tearfully from the back, ‘Papa…Papa…’
Rico took his attention to Lola and said wonderingly, ‘She just called me Papa…’ And then, soothingly, ‘Everything is OK, mi pequeña—do you want to go home?’
