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with me or I’ll take your child.” That’s what you’re saying, Larenzo.’

      ‘And what are you saying?’ he answered, a hint of anger in his voice. ‘“You’re my child’s father and I don’t want you involved in her life,” even though you know I am innocent.’

      ‘I didn’t say that—’

      ‘You’ve been saying that for ten months, Emma.’

      She took a deep breath. Arguing would get them nowhere. ‘Things have changed, Larenzo. I recognise that. But you can’t expect me to fall in with your plans without a second’s thought—’

      ‘I haven’t. I told you, you have until tomorrow.’

      ‘Well, thanks for that,’ she answered sarcastically. There was no reasoning with this man. No swaying him. So what was she going to do?

      The waiter came with their meals, giving Emma a few minutes’ respite from the intensity of their conversation.

      She picked at her chicken, her gaze lowered; she didn’t think she could swallow a single mouthful. Then, to her shock, she felt Larenzo’s hand on her own, his palm warm and strong just as it had been a year and a half ago, when he’d covered her hand with his own and she’d felt, for a moment, closer to this man than anyone else on earth.

      ‘Why are you fighting this, Emma?’ he asked quietly, and his voice was as sorrowful as it had been back on that night. His touch and his words catapulted her to that time when she’d felt so much for this man, had longed to comfort him. Had seen tenderness and understanding in his eyes, had felt it in his arms.

      A lump rose in her throat and she blinked rapidly, swallowed past it. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, and it sounded like a confession.

      ‘I want to be with Ava. I never had a family of my own, except...’ He stopped, his voice choking, and shook his head. ‘I don’t want this to be acrimonious, God knows. I want to get to know my daughter and love her. Please let me do that.’

      She gazed up at him, saw the sincerity and emotion in his eyes, and felt her last reservations melt away. She believed Larenzo. She believed he was innocent, but, more importantly, she believed he wanted what was best for Ava.

      She only hoped it was best for her too.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re doing this.’

      Meghan stood behind Emma as she finished packing her suitcases—just one for her and one for Ava, really not much at all to bring to her new home. Her new life.

      ‘It makes sense, Meghan,’ she said, which was what Larenzo had said to her last night. Last night she’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep as she’d thought about her future, when she’d heard Meghan’s and Pete’s raised voices downstairs, and had known they were talking about her. She’d crept to the top of the stairs, everything in her stilling as Pete had declared,

      ‘She can’t stay here any longer, Meghan. I’ve been patient, God knows, but two more mouths to feed is expensive, and if this Cavelli character has connections to—’

      ‘He was cleared of all charges,’ Meghan had cut across her husband.

      ‘Even so—’

      ‘She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, Pete.’

      ‘Then she needs to find somewhere,’ Pete had answered grimly, and Emma had crept back to her bed.

      Pete was right. She couldn’t stay here any longer, for too many reasons. And she no longer wanted to deny Larenzo access to his daughter, even if she was afraid of what that might mean. Not for Ava, but for her.

      ‘You could stay here,’ Meghan persisted, and Emma met her sister’s eye in the mirror hanging over the bureau.

      ‘You know I couldn’t,’ she said quietly, and Meghan flushed and looked away.

      ‘I was afraid you might have heard that conversation—’

      ‘Pete’s right, Meghan.’

      Meghan bit her lip. ‘I like having you here, Emma. You’ve been away for so long—’

      ‘New York City isn’t that far. I’ll visit lots, I promise.’

      ‘I’ll worry. I still don’t trust Cavelli. Even if he was cleared of charges...’

      ‘What happened to innocent until proven guilty?’ Emma asked lightly. ‘I trust him, Meghan, and I know he wouldn’t hurt his daughter.’ She paused, her gaze on the clothes she was folding. ‘He was good to me when I worked for him.’ She bit her lip as a pang of bittersweet longing assailed her. ‘He was very good to me.’

      ‘But can you really trust him?’ Meghan persisted, and Emma thought of what he’d said last night at dinner. You can’t trust anyone in this world. That’s one thing I’ve come to realise. When had he realised that? When he was a child at the orphanage, or when he’d been sent to a prison for crimes he might not have committed? A lifetime of betrayal, perhaps, and yet there was still so much she didn’t understand.

      ‘Yes, I can,’ she answered Meghan. ‘At least when it comes to Ava.’

      Twenty minutes later Larenzo pulled up in front of Meghan’s house in a luxury sedan, a car seat already installed in the centre of the back seat. He loaded the two suitcases in the boot, glancing at Emma.

      ‘That’s all you have?’

      ‘I travel light.’

      ‘But Ava—’

      ‘The crib and changing table and things belonged to Meghan. They’re hoping for another baby someday, so...’

      ‘You don’t need to worry about any of that,’ Larenzo said. ‘I’ve taken care of it.’

      ‘Okay,’ she murmured, and Larenzo held out his arms for Ava.

      ‘May I?’

      Wordlessly she nodded and handed him their daughter. He held her awkwardly, clearly not used to the chubby bundle of arms and legs that was an almost toddler. ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he murmured, smiling into Ava’s inquisitive face. She gurgled and grabbed his chin in her chubby fists and Larenzo laughed, the sound rusty and surprising and also achingly wonderful. Emma realised she hadn’t heard Larenzo laugh before. It reminded her of the photo she’d shown him, back in Sicily; it was a sound of joy. Suddenly she felt almost near tears. She swallowed hard and watched as Larenzo buckled Ava into her car seat; he fiddled with the straps and with a laugh that managed to clear the tears away Emma helped him.

      ‘These things are impossible,’ she said. ‘Especially when Ava is resisting.’ She buckled the straps over Ava’s tummy, conscious of Larenzo standing so close to her, his head bent near hears. She closed her eyes, willed herself to develop a little strength. A lot of resistance. Otherwise she was going to have way too many difficult moments with Larenzo. ‘There.’ She patted the buckled straps and straightened, her breast brushing against Larenzo’s arm as she did so. Desire shot through her veins and she quickly turned away and got in the car, deeply unsettled by her own reaction to this man who had catapulted so suddenly back into her life.

      * * *

      Larenzo started the car; Emma was in the passenger seat, her face turned towards the window. He had no idea what she was thinking, if she still resented his presence in Ava’s life.

      He’d told Emma he didn’t trust anyone, and, while that was true, he was conscious of how he was asking her to trust him with the most precious thing of all: their child. But he also knew he couldn’t change who he was, who he’d become. Trust was now an alien concept, and always would be. Even so, he could appreciate what Emma was doing.

      ‘Thank

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