‘Don’t touch me ever again. You make me sick.’

And, before he could see how much turmoil she was in, she turned and fled to the toilet at the front of the cabin, narrowly avoiding the stewardess, who appeared just then with a tray piled high with food and drinks.

After spending an inordinately long time in the bathroom splashing cold water on her face and wrists, Alicia emerged. She wondered what kind of spell this man held over her and felt sick to the stomach at the thought of facing Melanie when she’d proven herself to be no less immune to his charms. For a brief cataclysmic moment in there, faced with her own bewildered image, she’d actually wished that somehow he wasn’t the father of Melanie’s baby. She was going to be the aunt of this man’s child, for goodness’ sake. Her stomach had lurched ominously and she thought for a second that she’d be sick.

But when she emerged, steeled to see him again, the cabin was empty. The stewardess turned around from where she’d been laying out cutlery and plates. Alicia thought hysterically that Dante must have parachuted out in order to get away from her. The cool blonde woman cut through her thoughts. ‘Mr D’Aquanni has taken a call in the office at the back of the plane. He said to call me if you need anything. We’ll be landing in a little under an hour, Ms Parker.’

Alicia nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak. Of course the plane had an office. Silly her, she chided herself. And no doubt he was as disgusted by what had just happened as she was. Her cheeks burned as she recalled what it must have looked like. She had practically thrown herself into his arms, had all but begged him to keep going…

Dante sat at the back of the plane, his call having lasted only a couple of minutes. His body still hummed, his trousers still felt tight. He’d watched, uncharacteristically speechless as Alicia had walked into the bathroom. When she’d landed on his lap, in his mind’s eye he’d seen very clearly what he should do—put her away from him and back to her own seat. But his arms had come around her instinctively. His lap had cupped her bottom as if it had known it from a previous existence. And the feel of her tiny, curved form had been so seductive that he’d found it nigh on impossible to remember the rage that her words had sparked within him.

But without her bewitching presence he could remember. How dared she presume to know what kind of upbringing he’d had? It had been more like an up-dragging. He’d fought and kicked every step of the way, staying on the right side of the law only by the mercy of some divine force. And if it hadn’t been for Stefano Arrigi plucking him and his brother from the streets when he had, who knew where he—they—might have ended up…?

He cursed the woman for making him think of these things. He knew rationally that he couldn’t entirely blame her as he’d never publicized his background—oh, the information was there, he couldn’t move without someone commenting on it—but he’d learnt the hard way that once you had money people didn’t much care how you’d got it, and yet Alicia’s condemnation had cut him in a tender place. And he had no idea why. She was a complete stranger to him.

He didn’t seek pity from anyone. Especially when he had such a bitter memory of the one and only time he had told someone the truth—a woman. And yet he felt instinctively that this woman would somehow empathise. Or, more accurately, pretend to.

He stood abruptly, making some papers fall from the desk. The sooner they got to England and sorted this farce out the better. And the sooner he made sure this woman had no recourse or claim, however bogus, on his life, the better. He vowed that within the day he would be back in his villa on Lake Como, any threat from these women nullified and eradicated.

Dante returned to the main cabin just as the plane was landing and Alicia studiously avoided looking anywhere near him. She trembled inside. Watching the ground below become clearer and clearer, she could make out fields, buildings, tiny cars…she realized then that she hadn’t told him where to go but they were in fact circling over the Oxford area.

She turned around. ‘How did you know where to come? I never told you.’

She was relieved to see him buttoned up, suit jacket on.

‘I know because it didn’t take much to find out.’

Alicia had to consciously stop her gaze from dropping to his mouth, the strong brown column of his throat. ‘Oh…’

‘You never did tell me what you want the money for exactly, or how much… You pulled your fainting stunt just before you did. Which was, no doubt, designed somewhat crudely to arouse sympathy.’ His tone was conversational, bored even.

Alicia’s heart hardened. The man was a bastard. She hated him. He had hurt Melanie unforgivably.

She tried to keep her voice steady but it was a struggle. Briefly, she told him of Melanie’s injuries. ‘She’s going to need the expert ongoing care of one of the best gynaecologists in the UK who specializes in post trauma cases, and he is only available privately. Even if we had the money, he’s based in central London, so we would have to move closer in order to see him once a week. Melanie won’t be able to withstand a lengthy public transport journey. He works in Harley Street. You do the maths.’ She flung the last words at him in a fit of pique at his lack of expression. Tears stung her eyes again. Damn it, if Melanie or the baby suffered because of this man… She turned away in despair. She wouldn’t be surprised if when they landed he threw her from the plane and closed the door only to take off, back to Italy.

Dante watched the slim column of her throat work in profile. Was she really upset or was this part of the game? As if he had to ask. He had thought for a brief moment of seeing her out of the plane door, closing it behind her and taking off immediately. But he knew he couldn’t. Melanie Parker was a reality. She was associated with him. It would be an easy story to sell and he was damned if he’d let her.

He focused on his recent conversation with his assistant in Italy. They were still unable to track down his younger brother. His mouth tightened. If this pregnancy was genuine, Paolo D’Aquanni had a lot to answer for.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOUR sister has been conscious for a few hours now. We’re cautiously optimistic that she’s not going to lapse again.’

Alicia felt weak with relief. ‘And the baby?’

The ward sister nodded. ‘The baby is doing fine.’ She shook her head incredulously. ‘It’s a miracle really how it survived the impact of the crash but, as you know, this is only the first step. She’s going to need constant care to ensure its healthy progress. It’s such a relief that Paolo has managed to make the first appointment for Mel to see Dr Hardy in London in a couple of weeks. I was afraid it’d be too short notice.’

Alicia’s back tensed; she felt Dante straighten beside her. She struggled to interpret the words she’d just heard. ‘What are you talking about? Who is Paolo?’

Her friend gave her a funny look. ‘Why, Mel’s boyfriend, of course, silly. He arrived last night. He stayed in the chair beside her bed, absolutely besotted.’ She bustled towards the ward, guiding them in. ‘She’s still very weak, so maybe don’t make it a long visit today, OK?’

Alicia felt herself nod dumbly. She still couldn’t process the words. She was vaguely aware of Dante behind her, his hand moving to her back, propelling her forward. She moved, but didn’t know how. They were in a ward of four beds, the curtains pulled around her sister’s. Somehow instinctively Alicia just knew that everything was about to fall apart.

And when she pulled back the curtain she nearly fainted for the second time in two days.

‘Lissy…’ Melanie’s weakened voice was a thread of its normal chatty vitality but Alicia couldn’t even look at her yet. She couldn’t move. She stared in abject mounting horror at a younger, slightly less good looking, slightly smaller version of Dante D’Aquanni. She had to be so exhausted that she was hallucinating. That was it—extreme tiredness and stress… She raised a hand to her head.