The Italian Boss's Secret Child(27)

'She said she would do-anything?' He directed the half-statement  half-question to Daphne but his eyes were searching for the answer on  Philly's face, waiting for her to deny it but knowing by the fear in her  swirling hazel eyes that she couldn't.

'Yes.' Daphne chuckled, oblivious to the sudden tension now crackling in  the air between the newlyweds. 'I don't know what Philadelphia had in  mind. I thought once the wedding with Bryce fell through that there was  no chance but then, as luck would have it, you turned up.'

'As luck would have it.'

His voice was icy and flat, a slippery track she felt herself sliding along, further and further away from him.

'And I'm a very lucky woman because of it. But now I must rest. So, if you'll excuse me … '

'I'll see you to your room,' Philly offered, relishing the thought of a  moment's respite from the heated accusations of his dark eyes, but  Daphne would have none of it.

'No! Marjorie can look after me. It's your wedding night, after all.'

Daphne made her goodnights and disappeared with Marjorie in a whirl of  excitement and congratulations. The second they'd left the room Philly  turned, trying to take the offensive.                       
       
           



       

'Damien, it's not how it sounds. We have to talk.'

Without looking at her, he walked straight past and out of the room,  leaving her to chase after him in his wake, a combination of his woody  cologne, fury and a sense of betrayal wafting behind him. Lifting her  full-length silk skirts she tripped down the hallway after him, barely  able to keep up with his long, purposeful stride. He entered the room  that was to have been theirs, the massive master suite, dominated by the  large four-poster bed intended for the newlyweds to share tonight.

But the bed might not have been there for all the notice Damien took of  it. He moved straight to the walk-in wardrobe, where he collected a  leather overnight case and started flinging the few items he'd brought  into it.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'What does it look like? I'm leaving.'

'Damien, let me explain.'

'Explain what?'

'It's not how it sounds.'

'No? You mean you didn't make that promise to your mother?'

'Yes, I did, but that doesn't mean-'

'You didn't say you'd do anything you could?'

'Damien, that's not the point.'

'Isn't it? You promised to do anything you could to give your mother a  grandchild. When it all went belly-up with Bryce you had to find some  other way of doing what you'd promised, and quickly. And you found it in  me.'

He strode across the room with long, purposeful strides into the large  en suite bathroom. 'What did your mother say?' he continued, hurling  toiletries into the bag. "'As luck would have it, you turned up"'.

'No, Damien, it wasn't like that. I explained all this to you before.'

'Did you? Seems you left out the best bit. You left out the bit about  being determined to have a baby. Someone's baby. Anyone's baby. That  night at the masquerade ball, you weren't there for my benefit. You were  trawling for a sperm donor.'

His words cut her deep, so deep that she was unable to respond. It hadn't been like that …

'My God,' he continued, 'when I think that I almost believed you. I  thought all you wanted to do was to keep this baby a secret. And, no  doubt, you did. Until you worked out there was an even bigger prize. You  could have the baby and the money too. Money and luxury for life. Not a  bad return for one night's work.'

He lifted his head to look at her. 'Such a wonderful daughter.' He zipped up the bag, shaking his head. 'Such a lousy wife.'

'Damien, it's not true. You have to listen to me. Please.'

'Why should I listen to you? You've lied to me ever since we met. Every  step of the way you've hidden the truth, pretending to be something  you're not, the shy virgin, the dutiful daughter. Well, the truth is  out. You're neither dutiful nor shy. You're manipulative and devious,  out for what you can get.'

'I never pretended to be anything, least of all a shy virgin. I never said that.'

'No? You didn't have to. Those baggy suits. The big glasses. You looked  like a shy little mouse but all the while you were planning with rat  cunning.'

'What? Now you're blaming my wardrobe for what's happened? Listen to yourself, Damien. You're not making any sense.'

'Maybe not but at least now I'm seeing sense. I'm seeing things I should have seen a long time ago.'

He tossed the bag over his shoulder and stormed across the room to the door.

'Where are you going?'

'Anywhere you're not.'

'But you can't go, not yet.'

'Why not? You've got what you wanted-the baby, a husband, somewhere your  mother will be comfortable and well looked after. You've fulfilled your  promise. You have no more need of me.'

'That's not true. I do need you.'

He tossed her a look of disdain over his shoulder as he headed across  the driveway to the detached triple garage. 'Why? Have you made more  promises you haven't bothered to share with me?'

'No! But I need you, Damien. I …  I love you.'

He stopped dead at the garage door, his hand on the automatic door  opener and his head lowered as the metal door rolled up and away.

Her breath was fast and shallow, her heart hammering as she waited for his response, any response.

When the door had rolled high enough he stepped under and around to the  side of his black BMW, tossed in the bag and finally turned, his  features frozen, his eyes cold and hard.

'I'm disappointed, Philly. For a woman who's gone to the lengths you  have to get pregnant, I would have expected something much more creative  than that. Running out of ideas, are you?'                       
       
           



       

He lowered himself into the car and turned the key, kicking the black  beast into life. She ran to the side of the car as he pulled his door  shut, her voice rising to counter the engine.

'Damien, it's the truth. And no matter how much you don't want my love  and don't need it, you've got it. And I don't even know why. But it's  true. I love you.'

He gunned the motor, one hand on the steering wheel, the other tense  over the gear stick as his window slid down in a hum. 'Don't bother,  Philly. That's hardly likely to change things, even if I did believe  you.'

The window slid up and the car jumped forward out of the garage. Philly sprang back as the sleek car roared out.

'Damien!' But he was gone, in a cloud of rich petrol fumes and the powerful roar of an engine being given its head.

He couldn't go-not like this! He had to believe her. She had to convince  him. But how could she do that? She looked around, her eyes falling on  the Mercedes coupé still parked just outside the garage, the large gold  ribbon still tied around it. She touched the key at her throat, the key  Damien had placed there earlier.

He must be heading for the penthouse, intending to spend the night alone  there. If she could just talk to him-she needed time to explain, to put  his fears to rest, and letting him stew on everything tonight was only  going to cement his case against her.

She looked at the car. She hadn't driven it yet and it was as different  from her old sedan as satin was from serge, but it was still only a car.  And right now it was her only hope.

She flipped the ribbon necklace over her head as she headed for the car.  With two tugs the large bow came away and fluttered to the ground and,  collecting her skirts in one hand, she slid behind the wheel, the soft  leather seat wrapping itself around her. She took a few seconds to  familiarise herself with the controls. Then she snapped on her seat belt  and started the engine.

The sports car gave a throaty purr that spelt superb engineering and  promised power. She wouldn't need too much of that-she was more  interested in making it to the penthouse in one piece than in catching  him en route after all. With a final deep breath she found the  headlights and released the handbrake, easing the car along the  driveway.

There was at least twenty kilometres of country road to negotiate before  reaching the highway that would take her straight into the city. She  couldn't wait to get there.

Thick clouds skudded across the sky, obliterating the moon until the  night sky became dark and threatening. Gum leaves and bark danced across  the road, whipped along by the rising wind which bowed the roadside  trees in the car's powerful headlights.

While the car was smooth and powerful, it was enough to concentrate on  the unaccustomed journey and the worsening conditions and she longed for  the familiarity of her old sedan. At least on that one she knew which  side to find the wipers and indicators in a hurry if she needed.

She missed two turns on the narrow bush roads and had to backtrack to  find the right route, but eventually the glow from the lights over the  freeway on-ramp told her she was close. With a sigh of thanks she  stretched back into the rich leather upholstery, knowing the worst was  over and that the freeway would soon take her into the city and to  Damien. The few first drops of rain splatted on to her windscreen.  Slowly at first, before fast turning into a torrent.