‘Get what?’
‘Your cynicism.’
‘I am not cynical.’
‘You impregnated a virgin yet you refuse to believe your paternity without written proof. If that’s not cynical, then I don’t know what is. And I don’t get why you are that way.’
‘There is nothing to get. I do not take anything at face value. That’s good business sense, not cynicism.’ Much as he tried to hide it, a real edge had crept into his voice. He’d thought she would be grateful he was rearranging his schedule to drive her back to Paris, had assumed a little gratitude would soften her attitude towards him. But no. For all the softness of her curves and her bottom lip, Cara Delaney was as hard as nails.
From the periphery of his vision, he saw her straighten.
‘Grace and I used to talk about you,’ she said.
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’
‘We used to wonder why you were the way you were.’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’
‘You come from a loving family. You had two parents who loved and supported you and encouraged you...’
‘That is what you used to say about me?’ he interrupted with a burst of mocking laughter.
‘Your mother dotes on you,’ she said coldly. ‘By all accounts your father doted on you too. You have a closer relationship with your brother than most siblings can dream of. That’s what I mean about coming from a loving family.’
‘Sì,’ he conceded. ‘My parents loved me. Luca and I are close. It is normal.’
‘I have two stepsisters who hate me only fractionally less than they hate each other. I have a bunch of half-siblings scattered around Dublin whom I have never met. I have a mother who doesn’t care a fig that I’m pregnant. I have a father who is unaware he’s going to be a granddad, but that’s because he’s had no involvement in my life for over a decade.’
For a moment he didn’t know what to say to that unexpected outburst or how to react to the raw emotion behind it. ‘You haven’t seen your father in ten years?’
‘Thirteen years. My parents split when I was eleven. Mam and I moved to England when I was thirteen and I haven’t seen him since.’
‘My father died thirteen years ago.’ Something in his chest moved as he thought of Cara going through her own personal trauma while his own life was shattering, first by the death of his father and then by Luisa’s vile and ultimately devastating actions.
‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice softened. ‘I’ve seen pictures of your dad—you look just like him.’
‘Sì. He was a very handsome man.’
This time she did laugh. ‘Oh, you are so full of yourself.’
‘You can be full of me too if you want.’
‘Are you trying to make me sick again?’
He chuckled, glancing over at her, certain there was the trace of a smile playing on her lips.