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Jillian paused inside the nursery door, eyes widening at the charming ocean theme. The airy, spacious nursery had a wall of windows flooding the carpeted floor with sunshine and bright light reflected off the walls painted with fanciful fish. “You did all this for Joe?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I mean, it’s just so perfect….”
“Did you think I wouldn’t provide for my son?”
“No! Of course not.” She shifted Joe in her arms. “I’ve never once questioned your desire or ability to provide for Joe. I know you could give him anything.”
“As long as it’s material.”
She fell silent, realizing she’d said the wrong thing.
“Because that’s all I’m good for,” he added in the same velvet soft tone. “Money. Connections. Prestige.”
She blushed. “You’re putting words in my mouth,” she protested huskily, setting a wiggling Joe on his feet. The baby had spotted the sapphire dolphin rocking horse in the corner and was toddling fast toward the dolphin to climb on its back.
“But isn’t the money and prestige part true? You wanted me, enjoyed me, until you discovered I wasn’t your perfect prince and then you ran from me, disappearing without a word.”
“I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
“Apology not accepted.”
“Please, Vitt.”
“Please, what? This nursery has sat here empty for ten months. For ten months I searched for you, spending hundreds of thousands of dollars hiring investigators and detectives and following up on every lead possible. For ten months I waited to meet my son.” He leaned against one of the bookcases flanking the tall paned glass windows, his strong profile silhouetted by the bright sunlight. “And every day I thought, the only reason my son isn’t here, is because you, Jill Smith, wouldn’t let him.”
She felt her face grow hot. Put like that, she was a horrible person. But he didn’t know the whole story, and as much as she wanted to tell him, she didn’t think she could. At least not yet. At least, not until she knew for a fact that she could trust him. “I am sorry, Vittorio.”
He made a rough disgusted sound. “Let’s be honest. You’re not sorry you kept Joseph from me. You’re sorry I found you. Only you’re too much a coward to admit it.”
Jillian’s face burned with shame, because Vittorio was right. She was a coward. A pathetic coward. But if it meant she could protect Joe, and remain with Joe, then she’d do whatever she had to. “Maybe,” she admitted softly.
“Why did you do it, Jill? Why keep my son from me? You had to know I’d be good to him. You had to know I’d love him. I always treated you well. You trusted me, too, and when you slept, you always slept close to me, pressed to my side.”
She hated how her eyes suddenly felt gritty and dry. She hated that she could still remember how she’d felt with him, too. Loved. Safe. So very secure. “That was before,” she answered faintly.
“Before?” he repeated, as if amused. Faint creases appeared at the corner of his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Before what?”
He was still smiling but she realized she’d misread him. He wasn’t amused. He was far from amused.
Jillian held her breath, the air bottled in her lungs, aware that she was walking on thin ice and she had no idea how to extract herself.
But Vittorio wasn’t waiting for the ice to crack. He was going to shatter it himself. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Before you invented a world where I played the villain?”
She stared across the room at him. “I invented nothing. I dreamed up nothing. It’s all there, Vittorio. It’s all there on the internet.”
“It’s not true.”
“There are dozens of stories and articles, Vitt.”
“And you believe everything you read on the internet?”
“Not always.”
