The main cabin was furnished with inviting seating areas and adorned with modern art. The interior also offered a purpose-built office, a movie theatre and several en suite bedrooms. In her casual beige corduroy jacket and denim jeans, she felt seriously at odds with the cutting-edge style of her surroundings.
‘Wherever I am I have to be able to work. I spend a lot of time travelling and I usually have several staff with me,’ Sergio explained over the delicious lunch that was prepared for them by his personal chef.
By the time the meal was over the jet was getting ready to land, for it was a very short flight.
‘Why Paris?’ Kathy asked in the limo that ferried them away from the hustle and bustle of CDG airport.
‘France has strict press privacy laws. Many public figures find the media less intrusive here and a private life is more easily maintained,’ Sergio advanced smoothly.
‘So where are you taking me?’
‘It’s a surprise—a pleasant one, I hope, cara mia.’
Their destination was the island of Ile St-Louis, one of the most exclusive residential areas in Paris. The car came to a halt on a picturesque tree-lined quay in front of an elegant seventeenth-century building. Her curiosity rising by the second, Kathy accompanied Sergio inside. Sunlight fell from the tall windows and illuminated an elegant hall and staircase complemented by strikingly contemporary décor.
‘Feel free to explore,’ Sergio murmured softly.
Kathy made no attempt to hide her bewilderment. ‘What’s going on? Why have you brought me to this house?’
‘I have bought this house for you. I want you to raise my child here.’
Kathy was stunned by the concept and the wording. My child, not our child. She noted the distinction but tried to regard it as an encouraging sign of his wish to be involved in his baby’s future. Slowly she shook her head, her glorious hair sparkling like polished metal in the intense light, her green eyes alive with incredulity. ‘You want me to move to another country and live as your dependant? Am I supposed to clap my hands with joy, or something?’
‘Let me explain how I see this,’ Sergio urged.
Kathy swallowed back another outburst on the score of his single-minded arrogance and audacity. She understood that she was supposed to be impressed to death by the sheer grandeur and expense of a surprise that must have cost him millions. Maybe he thought he was being clever, generous and creative in a difficult situation. Maybe he believed that she was a problem that could best be cured with a liberal shower of money. Regardless, she felt humiliated and offended as once again he contrived to underscore the differences of wealth, class and status between them while insisting on making all her choices for her.
‘Some wine?’ Sergio suggested, indicating the bottle with the elegant label on the table. ‘It’s a classic Brunello from the Azzarini vineyards, which have belonged to the Torrentes for centuries.’
Her generous mouth compressed. ‘I’m pregnant…alcohol is not supposed to be a good idea,’ she extended when he continued to view her without comprehension. ‘Don’t you know anything about pregnant women?’
Sergio frowned. ‘Why would I?’
Kathy folded her arms. ‘Tell me why you think it would be a good idea for me to move to France.’
‘If you remain in London, you will always be handicapped by your past.’
‘My prison record, you mean.’ Her tummy gave a nauseous lurch as if reacting to her sudden increased tension and discomfiture.
Lean, strong face grim, Sergio surveyed her with level dark golden eyes. ‘With my help you can rewrite that history and bury your past. You can change your name and move here to embark on a new life. It would be a second chance for you and it would also provide a less contentious background for my child.’
His candour really hurt. Sucking in a steadying gulp of air, Kathy walked over to the window. Her nails were biting purple crescents into her palms as she fought to retain her composure. ‘And you think that that’s what I should do?’
‘If you remain in London our association will inevitably be exposed by the press. Once that particular genie gets out of its bottle, it can’t be put back.’
In an abrupt movement, Kathy spun back. ‘I’ve listened to you, and now you have to listen to me. I went to prison for a crime I didn’t commit. I did not steal that jug, or any of the other stuff that vanished from Mrs Taplow’s collection.’
Dark as midnight eyes cool and uncompromising, Sergio released his breath on a long slow hiss. ‘You made a mistake. You were very young and you had no family support system. Let’s move on from there and deal with the current challenge.’