The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child(52)

Charlotte snorted sourly under her breath. ‘None of this would have happened if you weren’t such a big cheese.’



Riccardo raised his eyebrows and smiled slowly at her, and Charlotte reluctantly grinned back.



‘Marry me,’ he said abruptly, never imagining he would return to this place having once been rejected. He noticed that she didn’t immediately recoil. ‘As a couple, we would have no story. A normal life, Charlie. You could keep your job, even though it’s not in my nature to see my wife work, and you wouldn’t have to think that at any given time you might be pounced on by a reporter wanting an update. You’ve seen how the kids of wealthy people can become specimens under the tabloid press microscopes…’



‘Not all.’ So, he hadn’t mentioned the ‘L’ word, so she still had all her arguments about marriages of convenience being empty shells—but she had lived with him…shared the same space. She had liked it, whether she was willing to admit it or not, had liked seeing her daughter with her father. In life, people made sacrifices. She would sacrifice the perfect dream and instead live out the shared one, one in which she loved but was not loved in return. She’d be liked, though, and as the mother of his child always respected. Would it really be so bad?



And no more hassle with anyone. The curious looks at work would come to an end, as would the nagging suspicion that she might be recognised by perfect strangers because they could place her face from somewhere. Normal had never looked so good.



‘And, like you say, all this will blow over in time…’ She imagined being able to rely on someone else in a way she had never been able to in her life before. Someone who could share her concerns when Gina was ill, or had difficult homework. Someone who could help with the big decisions in her daughter’s life, the schools she would attend. The list of temptations grew steadily longer.



‘Also,’ Riccardo said silkily. ‘Look at it from my point of view for a minute instead of your own: I want to be able to give Gina all the things money can buy.’



‘Which is the wrong way to bring up a child!’ Charlotte said robustly.



Riccardo didn’t miss a beat. He could sense her coming round, and the nearer he got to his goal the more he wanted it. ‘Which is why I shall rely on you to rein me in when I want to show up at the house with a ten-foot pink elephant or the latest-model quad bike.’



Charlotte shuddered, and in the intervening silence Riccardo steamrollered on, not giving her time to backtrack over the old arguments against which he had no adequate responses. ‘Better that than for Gina to grow up and witness the disparity in our lifestyles.’



‘Meaning that you would be able to tempt her away from me just because you could lavish her with whatever she wanted?’ But he had hit an open nerve, because she knew that with the best will in the world children could be swayed. The latest-model quad bike would always look better and shinier than the homemade doll’s house under the Christmas tree. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, but it was life. And, even if Gina held firm and was sensible enough to make the right judgements, how fair would it be that she should have to be put through the process of choice simply because her mother didn’t want to marry Riccardo because he didn’t love her the way she loved him?



‘I would never, ever set out to do any such thing…’



The ‘but’ hung in the air between them like a sharpened knife ready to drop.#p#分页标题#e#



‘Will you give me time to consider it?’



Riccardo knew that the deal was done. ‘We couldn’t continue to live in your house,’ he said briskly, making sure that she didn’t see his pleasure. ‘It is too small for the three of us.’



‘We managed just—’



‘Which in turn might mean taking Gina out of her school, transferring her to another.’



‘She’s happy there, and she’s not moving.’



Riccardo decided, in the interests of peace-making, not to pursue the point. ‘Fine. But we move, and who better to source the right place than you?’



‘I haven’t yet made my mind up,’ Charlotte said weakly.



‘You have. Now all we need to do is sort out the details.’



Step one in growing up had been having Gina. Now, step two was the realisation that nothing really worked out the way you truly wanted. But he was right, and there was no use pretending. Her mind was made up bar the shouting, and, yes, the details would have to be worked out.