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And she remembered what he’d said to her the first night they’d met. No wife. No kids.
They might have heard the rumours but she knew Carlo well enough to know that he wouldn’t lie to her about that.
She lifted her chin. ‘Carlo Santini doesn’t have a child.’
They all started shouting questions and another journalist waved something under her nose. ‘Don’t you read newspapers? It’s been in the Italian press for months.’
‘I’m not interested in what you print in your newspapers,’ Zan said quietly. ‘I’m only interested in what Carlo tells me.’
She broke off as she realised what she’d just said. What Carlo tells me.
‘And you trust him?’ The journalist gave her an incredulous look and Zan smiled.
‘Oh, yes, I trust him. I trust him completely.’
It had just taken some wild accusations to make her realise the truth.
Abby was right. His name didn’t matter.
She’d spent time with the man himself and she knew him. Knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t guilty of what these people were accusing him of.
She didn’t need to hear him tell her because she loved him. She loved him with all her heart. And now she needed to
try and find him so that she could tell him to his face.
Hoping that he hadn’t left the hospital, she pushed through the pack of journalists and sprinted up the emergency stairs to the labour ward.
One of the midwives was sitting at the desk, sorting out notes.
Zan paused, flushed and breathless. ‘Has Carlo gone?’
Suddenly she was desperate to see him.
The midwife looked up, surprised. ‘Oh, there you are—I thought you’d gone. I had a call from him five minutes ago. He said to tell you that he’d see you at your flat.’
Zan frowned briefly. Surely he’d told her to stay away from her flat?
There’d obviously been a new development.
Relieved and excited, longing for the opportunity to tell him how much she loved him, she sprinted back down the stairs and took the back way out of the hospital to avoid the journalists.
* * *
Carlo gave his nephew a final cuddle and handed him back to Abby.
‘He’s totally beautiful.’
Abby beamed at him. ‘Time you had one of your own.’
Carlo’s mouth twisted. ‘I don’t get that lucky.’
Abby stretched out a hand. ‘She loves you, Carlo.’
‘Does she?’ Carlo’s expression was bleak and he glanced up with a frown as Nico flicked through a series of channels on the television. ‘Hold it!’ He snatched his hand away from Abby’s, his voice ragged. ‘Go back one!’
Nico did as he’d been instructed and all three of them watched in silence as the television cameras zoomed in close to Zan’s shocked face.
Carlo cursed under his breath as he saw her lift her arm as protection against the flash bulbs.
