hotel straight after the court case was concluded, hoping against hope that she mightn’t have left. But she had. And he was not about to reveal that weakness now…especially not now.
Gypsy watched as Rico’s face became even more implacable and hard. She conveniently left out her myriad other reasons for not telling him. The memory of that woman’s humiliation in the face of Rico’s cold and very public displeasure was still etched on her brain.
His voice was utterly icy when he spoke. ‘The difference in this case is that I know we slept together. I’d only ever met that woman socially before, and because I rejected her advances and she had some paltry circumstantial evidence to suggest we might have been intimate she tried to prove that her baby was mine. I insisted on a paternity test and a public court to prove my case.’
Gypsy shivered inwardly. He was as ruthless as herfather had said. ‘But you ruined that woman’s reputation, dragging her through the courts.’
His face was stony. ‘She brought it all on herself. She was convinced I wouldn’t want to risk the publicity to prove I wasn’t the father. I gave her an opportunity to avoid it and she refused, believing I’d be an easy target and pay her off to keep her quiet. Within weeks of the court case she’d admitted who the real father was and was forced to make do with his meagre million euro fortune. Believe me, she does not merit your sympathy.’
Gypsy wondered now at the woman’s sense of delusion. Anyone could see that Rico Christofides was not a man who would bow to pressure. She tried not to let his explanation sway her, but deep down she had to admit she was surprised. Even so, she asked, ‘And yet you believe that Lola might be yours?’
Rico’s eyes went to Gypsy’s, and something that flared in their depths made her go hot in the face. ‘Apart from the fact that you’ve told me she is, I can be fairly certain that she’s mine because the protection I used that night split. When you assured me you’d be safe, I believed you.’
His words fell into the vacuum they’d caused. To Gypsy’s horror, all she could remember was that moment when he’d held back from sliding into her to put on protection. Even that had caused her to entreat him desperately, ‘Please, Rico…don’t stop now. Please. ’ If anything, she was probably to blame for the protection failing because she’d rushed him. And then she had promised him she’d be safe, fully believing that she had no cause to worry. But she hadn’t taken into account how erratic her cycle had grown in the months after her father’s death…
He continued, cutting through her shameful memory,‘You dare to ask me this after you ran from me last night, knowing I was the father of your child? You ask me this when looking at her is like looking into a mirror for me?’ His mouth twisted. ‘But don’t worry. I’m not so naïve that I won’t get a paternity test done just to make sure. Your insistence that you want nothing from me only leads me to believe that you do. ’ He laughed harshly. ‘You can hardly expect me to believe that I managed to impregnate the one woman in the world who wants not a cent of my fortune?’
He didn’t allow her to interject.
‘Perhaps you intended coming after me when she was old enough and skinny enough from malnutrition that your story would pluck at the heartstrings of the public with maximum effect? Or perhaps you just relish the twisted power of knowing you’re denying your own daughter her paternal heritage? You’ll do what you can to bleed me dry even while keeping me away from her?’
Gypsy clutched Lola even closer, and in an unconscious move shielded her daughter as much as she could from Rico. She felt fierce as she gave a scathing look around the pathetic flat. ‘Do you really think that I would choose to bring up my daughter in this just so that I could hatch some cunning extortion plan? Or that I revel in the fact that
Learning to Kill: Stories