The Petrelli Heir (7 page)

F
OR
the sake of her sanity, when Izzy left the reception she blocked everything out and tried to think of nothing beyond a quiet night at home with Lily. She had to try and regroup and get her head back together. Tomorrow would be time enough to worry about what she was going to say to Roman Petrelli.

That was the plan, but as with most best laid plans it went sadly awry.

Izzy’s went wrong in a major way the moment she opened the door of her cottage and found Michelle and her father standing there.

‘I had to tell him,’ Michelle said.

Izzy sighed. ‘Of course.’

It was after midnight before they left and at least by the time they had left her father was no longer planning to confront Roman Petrelli.

Izzy was touched that he wanted to protect her but she struggled with the idea of anyone fighting her battles for her, having always been taught not to rely on anyone but herself.

On the other hand she had been grateful for the help her father had provided when Lily had been born. It had
been Michael who had suggested she stay permanently in Cumbria with them—after all they were her family.

Izzy had been touched by the offer, but she could think of no surer way to destroy the delicate new relationship she had found with her new family than imposing herself on them with her new baby. Besides, Izzy needed her own space too.

It had been Michelle who had come up with the compromise that they could all live with, and Izzy had moved into the cottage on the edge of the village a mile or so from the family farmhouse where her half-brother and -sister had spent their childhoods.

It was hard sometimes not to contrast their lives with her own. Her mother had taught her some valuable things like independence and self-reliance, but had not taught her about casual physical demonstrations of affection or the teasing that went with life in a close-knit family group.

But despite the acceptance of the family Izzy still felt an outsider at times. Not because they excluded her, but because she recognised a need to maintain her own distance.

But living in the cottage she was close enough to enjoy the support of her new family and far enough away to maintain her independence, and it gave everyone the space they needed.

After her father and Michelle had finally gone Izzy went to bed herself, but she slept badly. But it wasn’t a hunting owl or a fox that had kept her awake or even the darkness. It was the thought of meeting Roman Petrelli this morning.

Lily, normally a fairly sunny baby, seemed to have picked up on her mother’s mood and was cranky this
morning too. She had taken hours to eat her breakfast and had fought every step of the way Izzy’s attempts to dress her. By the time she was finally ready to leave, a good ten minutes later than planned, Izzy felt drained.

Glancing in the hall mirror, she saw that she looked even worse than she felt, with violet smudges darkening the underneath of her eyes.

Izzy was tempted to dash back inside to at least apply some blusher to alleviate her sleep-deprived pallor and give her confidence a bit of a boost, but she had no time. Instead she manufactured a smile for her reflection and reminded herself that Roman probably wouldn’t notice her less than yummy-mummy appearance and so what? She wasn’t out to impress him anyway.

A brisk walk up the hill meant she wasn’t pale when she arrived at the hotel, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of pushing the buggy.

As she struggled to push it across the gravel forecourt a tall figure emerged from the side of the building. Unlike yesterday she was prepared for his appearance, but even so her heart started pounding like a hammer and her knees started to tremble.

‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ The breathless quiver was, she told herself, nothing to do with the fact that he radiated an aura of raw masculinity—he really was breathtaking!

‘No matter.’ His dark glance slid to the sleeping child and he tried to analyse the emotions that tightened like a fist in his chest. Once he had taken having a child for granted. Now it seemed more miracle.

‘Would you like a coffee?’

‘Actually it might be a good idea to walk and talk. Lily will wake up if I stop pushing her and she’s quite cranky this morning.’

They did walk but there was no talk.

She endured the silent attrition for ten minutes, during which time her apprehension had increased tenfold until she could bear it no more.

They had reached the footpath that circled the lake when Izzy had had enough. ‘Let’s sit, shall we?’

Roman tilted his head. ‘Fine.’ With one hand in the small of her back he guided her towards one of the benches beside the lake.

Izzy sat down, resisting the impulse that made her want to shuffle to the far end when Roman sat down beside her. He was a man with an overpowering presence and the sort of sexual charisma she had thought was an invention of romantic fiction.

He took a bag out of the pocket of his long black trench coat and tipped the contents on the ground, giving an awkward grimace when he caught her astonished stare. ‘I bought some food for the ducks. I thought Lily might like …?’ He nodded to the sleeping child.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you,’ she said. ‘She’s tired … and it’s probably easier to talk without …’

She stopped and raised her voice above the squawks of the ducks who had mobbed them. ‘I have to be back by twelve. Emma is picking Lily up. She goes back to university tomorrow and she wants to spend some time with her.’ Her half-sister was a doting aunt.

A nerve clenched in Roman’s lean cheek as he turned to look at her. ‘So do I.’

His direct stare brought a flush to her cheeks. ‘Oh, of course … I didn’t think …’

‘She’s my daughter.’ If he said it out loud often enough it might start to feel more real.

Izzy nodded tightly.

Roman swallowed and dug his fingers deep into the dark pelt of hair on his head.

‘I appreciate all this must be a shock for you.’

Roman’s hand fell away, leaving his sleek hair standing up in spiky tufts on his scalp. ‘Shock!’ He gave a twisted smile and laughed. ‘You have no idea.’ He stretched out his long legs in front of him and loosened the button on his coat, the fabric parting to reveal the dark cashmere sweater he wore underneath.

Izzy felt the muscles in her stomach quiver. He really was an extraordinarily attractive man.

‘I thought Lily was a grumbling appendix until I was six months pregnant.’

Her attempt to inject a note of levity—good timing never had been her strong point—was greeted with an incredulous stare. ‘Seriously?’

‘No, not seriously.’ She had known immediately, even before she’d done the test. She had simply felt different.

He turned his head. ‘I never thought I’d have a child.’ He still struggled to get his head around the idea.

So children did not figure in the glamorous life of this man. No real surprise there—it was hard to imagine him welcoming grubby fingerprints on his shirt.

‘I suppose not everyone likes children.’

She felt herself relax slightly. Was that what this meeting was about—a warning to tell her not to expect him to be a hands-on parent? He needn’t have worried; she didn’t need or want anything from him. As far as she was concerned her daughter had all the positive male role models she needed.

‘I’ll let you know how Lily is, a yearly update if you like.’ He was looking at her oddly so she shrugged
and added, ‘Or not.’ Then looked away because those spooky silver lights deep in his dark eyes made her feel dizzy.

Had she assumed too much? Did he want to walk away and act as though nothing had happened?

‘Though it would be useful to know if there is any significant medical history on your side …?’ This practicality was the reason her mother had decided to give her the details of her biological father, in case after she was gone Izzy found herself in a situation where such information would be useful.

His thick, strongly defined sable brows knitted together as he stared at her as though she were talking gibberish. ‘I didn’t say I didn’t like children. Actually I don’t know any.’

Unlike the large and noisy Fitzgerald clan, he had been an only child and there had been no cousins to play with. His parents, madly in love and totally wrapped up in one another, had never intended to have children, and resented the intrusion of a third party, and at an early age Roman had been shipped off to school. He hadn’t minded. He’d liked school, excelling academically and at sports, though not team sports—Roman with his lone-wolf tendencies had never been a team player.

‘Though I was one myself once,’ he added with a half-smile.

‘You don’t have brothers or sisters …?’ Izzy asked and he shook his head. ‘Neither do I, but then I’m sure the grapevine gossip told you that.’

Instead of reacting to the charge he picked up on the previous statement. ‘Actually I was told that I couldn’t have children, or at any rate it would be unlikely.’

But unlikely had happened, a miracle had happened.
Did she really think he’d be content with yearly updates on his child’s life?

Izzy was confused by his admission. She knew he was not impotent so that left what …?

‘Three years ago I had chemo.’ He offered the additional information in the manner of a casual afterthought.

Her eyes flew to his face ‘You’re ill?’ Beneath the calm surface Izzy could feel the ice forming … counting, she waited for the next breath. ‘You’re not dying? God, no!’ She took a deep breath, let it out in a long hissing sigh and made a struggling attempt to breach the social chasm that had opened up at her feet.

His broad shoulders lifted in a fluid shrug. ‘We are all dying,
cara
.’

Izzy, conscious that her knees were shaking, flashed him a dark look, annoyed that he was making light of a subject that was anything but. ‘You know what I mean.’

He conceded the point. ‘I had the all-clear, but surgery … well, you saw the scars.’

He watched as she closed her eyes, her long curling lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. Her eyelids lifted. ‘Well, you might have said that straight off instead …’

‘Sorry.’

Two years ago he had been in remission and the doctors had been cautiously optimistic, explaining that if he went another two years then his chances of suffering the disease were no more than those of any other member of the population. If it did return then worst-case scenario would be to amputate the leg.

Roman touched his leg now at the thought. The metal inserted to replace the diseased section might give him pain and preclude him enjoying some of the athletic
pursuits he once had, but it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative!

He had cheated death, but for a while it could just have easily gone the other way. Life was that fragile. Not that he had dwelt on the possibility of death for long. What would have been the point? Such things were out of his hands and if he had learnt anything from the experience it was not to waste time worrying about things over which you had no control.

Izzy released the breath she had not been aware of holding. ‘You were awfully young for …’

‘Cancer? Yes, I was twenty-eight.’

God, so young at a time when a man like Roman would think he was invincible. ‘But they must have … I mean, don’t they … freeze your …?’

‘Are my future children in a test tube in some laboratory somewhere?’ His eyes flashed as she blushed and nodded.

‘Yes, but due to a technical glitch they got thawed prematurely.’

Her eyes widened. ‘That’s terrible! You said you were dumped. Is that why …?’

‘The beautiful Lauren gave me back my ring? Actually she kept the ring, but, no, she was fine with the idea of a baby-free life. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of admitting to her that if the cancer returned then there was the possibility that they might have to amputate my leg. Poor Lauren couldn’t stand the idea of being stuck with a cripple.’

Izzy’s contempt for this woman knew no bounds.

‘She sounds like a total and complete idiot!’ she fumed, wondering if underneath the cynical, amused façade he wasn’t still in love with this prize bitch.

Probably—men had no judgement when it came to beautiful women.

She caught him looking at her oddly and added quickly, ‘I’d have thought they’d have had all sorts of backups to prevent that kind of thing from happening?’

‘They do, but they also have human error.’ The sympathy in her wide clear eyes was genuine, as was the dismay when he added, ‘Lily might be my one chance to be a father and I intend to be fully involved in her life.’

Fully involved. The words made her uncomfortable. ‘I get that … I see, but I’m sure you’ll have your own family.’

‘I already have a family.’

‘We’re not …’ Izzy took a deep breath and forced herself to speak more moderately. ‘In what way, fully?’ she asked, struggling not to sound defensive and knowing she hadn’t succeeded.

Roman held her eyes and set out his intentions so that there was no chance of her misunderstanding. ‘In every way …’

He saw her blue eyes flicker and the muscles beneath the pale skin of her throat ripple as she swallowed, probably wondering what he knew about being a father. But what did he know about being a father?

Refusing to acknowledge the rare voice of silent self-doubt, Roman pushed it away.

‘I hope you’ll help me.’ Roman felt he was being pretty fair given the circumstances, but he would learn with or without her help. ‘I’ve already missed out on the first months of her life.’ Roman stifled the resentment that made the muscle in his cheek clench. What was important, he reminded himself, was the future.

‘And for that you blame me.’

‘I’m trying hard not to.’ But her attitude was making it increasingly difficult; she was so spiky and damned confrontational.

Sensitive to the thread of accusation in his voice, Izzy raised her chin. She was perfectly willing to take responsibility for her part. She’d had sex with a stranger and had got pregnant—not something she was proud of—but she hadn’t done so alone.

‘I realise it might be difficult for you to share Lily …’

Her eyes widened and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Holding the buggy handle, she used her free hand to lift the collar of her jacket against the chill breeze that was blowing.