He just nodded, amazed at the inner strength of a woman he knew from experience could get blown over by a decent gust of wind, thankful for that inner strength, thankful for her circumstances. It suited him that the husband was gone. She would have no choice now.
He looked around the room, taking in the dated fittings and faded decor. The room was clean, he’d give her that much, but it was tired, as tired as this woman had looked when he’d met her today. ‘So now you live here alone?’
She nodded.
‘What about your family? Are they close?’
She shook her head. ‘Mum died a few years back. I was an only child.’
‘Your father?’
‘I never knew him.’
Better and better. ‘So who looks after you?’
‘I look after me, Mr Pirelli,’ she huffed, finding some of that lion-hearted feistiness she tapped into from time to time. ‘I’m not a child.’
As much as he admired her courage, anger curled the corners of his senses. Her bastard husband had walked out on her. He’d abandoned her, leaving her pregnant and alone in a house in a suburb that only the brave-hearted or the criminal or those who couldn’t afford to move out would choose.
She’d been alone since he’d gone. No wonder she looked so gaunt. Who was there to look after her? Who was there to ensure she ate properly or make sure she took proper care of herself? There was no other option.
‘Get some things together,’ he ordered. ‘We’re leaving.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You can’t stay here. You’re coming with me.’
‘No, I’m not. This is my home. At least…’ She trailed off mid-sentence and Dominic found himself wondering how many more secrets she had left to reveal.
‘At least what?’
‘I got a letter today.’ She nodded towards the table where the page still sat. Then she swallowed, her hands either side, gripping the bench top behind her. The action emphasized the leanness of her arms but, surprisingly, it also emphasized another part of her anatomy, one he hadn’t taken much notice of until now. For, without her cardigan to cover her, her singlet top pulled tight across an anything-but-flat chest. What the hell was he thinking? He snatched up the letter, concentrated on that.
‘Shayne took the car and most of the furniture when he left. He said that was enough. Now he’s telling me he wants his share of the house. But it’s my house! My mother left it to me. He can’t do that, can he?’
The raw pain in her eyes touched him in a place he didn’t know still existed. This house meant that much to her? But of course it would if it was all she had.
‘I’ll have my lawyers look into it,’ he said, folding the letter. ‘But you know you can’t stay here. I don’t want you staying here, knowing he’s out there, knowing he could turn up at any time making demands.’
‘I’m getting the locks changed.’
‘You think that would stop him if he wanted to get in? No way in the world can I leave you here alone knowing he’s out there, knowing what he wanted for my child. No way can I trust him anywhere near you. Don’t you understand that?’
‘But don’t you still need his agreement to take this baby?’
‘Let the lawyers take care of that as well. You think about what you need to pack just enough for tonight, I’ll send my people to pick up the rest tomorrow.’
‘Hang on. I haven’t agreed to anything!’
‘What do you have to stay for? You have no family and no husband. You have nothing, except a child that doesn’t belong to you.’
How dared he talk to her like that—as if she was a nothing and a nobody he could order around at his whim? She stiffened her spine and kicked up her chin, sick of men who wanted to tell her what to do. ‘I still have this house. Or at least a share of it.’
‘And you’re welcome to return to your share of it after the baby is born. Rest assured, I’ll be the last person to stop you.’
She huffed off to her bedroom and packed her bag, just an overnight one for now, like he’d said, his words stinging in her ears as she flung in her pyjamas.
Damn the man!
So, maybe he had a point. Maybe she would be better off right away from here and from Shayne until this baby was born. Maybe it would be better for the baby.
Safer.
She pulled open a drawer, grabbed some clean underwear and slammed it shut the way she would have liked to have slammed Mr Rule-The-World Pirelli with a few choice words of her own.
I’ll be the last person to stop you. He’d said those words as if he couldn’t wait to see the back of her.