Dante's Unexpected Legacy(46)

                He glared at her, incensed. ‘You tell me I have a daughter and think I will walk away?’

                Rose hugged her arms across her chest, refusing to look at him. ‘I don’t expect anything from you, Dante. Bea and I have managed perfectly well up to now without you. So by all means walk away if you want. I have no proof that she’s your child. If this were a Gothic novel she’d have a birthmark or something to show she was yours, but—’

                ‘I need no proof,’ he said roughly and got up to pace the room. ‘If you say she is mine I will believe you.’

                ‘Will believe or do believe?’ demanded Rose.

                Dante turned on her angrily. ‘Do not mock my command of English, per favore.’

                Rose sat very still, gazing at him in such misery Dante sat beside her again and took her hand.

                ‘Why do you look at me so?’

                ‘It was very hard to tell you, Dante.’

                ‘Perche?’

                ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. And it’s over four years since that night so you might have forgotten all about it. And even if you did remember you could have thought I was telling you about Bea to get money.’

                Dante clenched a fist, as though hanging on to every shred of his self-control. At last he turned to look Rose in the eye. ‘I had forgotten nothing. When I saw you again in Firenze I was transported back to the Vilari wedding and my meeting with the entrancing girl who stole my heart.’

                ‘The heart which already belonged to someone else,’ Rose said bitterly.

                He shook his head. ‘Elsa never had my heart. She had no use for it. She wanted my name and my money. But there was less money than she expected. Financially, I was a great disappointment to her.’

                ‘Did you love her?’

                ‘I desired her when we first met. And she desired marriage to a Fortinari.’ Dante’s mouth twisted. ‘Alla fine—in the end—I was deeply grateful to Enrico Calvi for taking her from me.’ He took Rose’s hand in his. ‘Now, let us talk of important things. How soon can we get married?’





                                      CHAPTER SIX

                ‘HOLD ON!’ SHE shook her head decisively. ‘That’s not going to happen, Dante.’

                ‘Cosa?’ He pulled her to her feet and stood staring down at her. ‘We made a child together—’

                ‘But by accident, not because we were in a relationship.’ Rose held her ground. ‘I didn’t tell you about Bea to force you to marry me, Dante. I don’t want—or need—a husband.’

                ‘But this is not all about you, Rose,’ he flung at her. ‘My daughter needs a father. Soon she will be old enough to ask why she lacks one, no? Other children will ask also. You have not considered this?’

                ‘Are you serious? Of course I have!’ She sighed wearily. ‘I had no way of providing one for her, or even to meet a likely candidate because I had to work from home so I could always be there for her. Besides, I like being in charge of my own life—and of hers. If I married you, Dante, I suppose you would expect me to uproot us to live with you in Italy?’