ABBY GREEN - Keeping Her Close - In Christofides' Keeping / The Call of the Desert / The Legend of de Marco

‘Gypsy, this is Mrs Wakefield—my housekeeper.’

The warmth in his voice made Gypsy suck in a breath. It reminded her too much of how he’d seduced her so easily. She avoided looking at him and smiled tightly at the openly curious woman, who now looked to Lola.

‘Ah, what an absolute cherub. Now, you must be tired and famished. I thought she might be sleeping after the car journey, so I’ve got a little makeshift bed set up in the sitting room if you want to take her through and lie her down.’

More than a little stunned, Gypsy meekly followed the motherly woman through a gleamingly modern reception area to a huge open-plan room decorated in dark greys and muted tones. A bachelor pad if ever there was one.

Mrs Wakefield showed Gypsy where to lie Lola down, and she even had a cashmere blanket to put over her. She confirmed Gypsy’s suspicions when she said chattily, ‘I have five girls myself, but they’re all grown up now. They grow so fast—mark my words, you won’t even see the time fly by before she’s turning your heart in your chest with boyfriends and wanting to go out all night.’

Gypsy made some trite comment, but she was very aware of Rico, who had followed them in and was standing silently by. She could feel his censorious gaze. No doubt his housekeeper’s words were reminding him of how much he’d missed already.

With a promise to return soon, with some tea and sandwiches, she left them alone in the huge room. Gypsy fussed over Lola for a moment, wanting to avoid looking anywhere near Rico.

He asked then, ‘Is it normal for her to sleep like this?’

Gypsy finally stood up and crossed her arms. His question unsettled her, making her defensive. ‘She’s just catching up. And she normally has a nap in the afternoon anyway.’

Rico’s jaw was tight. ‘How would I know this?’

Gypsy just looked at him, quashing the dart of guilt, and watched as he took off his coat with jerky movements, before flinging it down over the back of a chair. He started to pace, and Gypsy felt that weariness snake over her again. She hadn’t realised how tired she was. But she was exhausted.

In an effort to put some space between them, she moved away and looked around. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over London, where clouds made it seem darker, the skyline soaring against them. Despite the grim weather it was enchanting. And completely impractical.

She turned around again, determined, despite the pathetic state of her own flat, not to allow Rico to railroad them. ‘We can’t stay here for long. This place is a recipe for disaster with a toddler.’ She gestured with a hand towards a low glass table. ‘There are sharp edges and corners everywhere. Lola’s far too inquisitive at the moment—she’ll get hurt.’

Rico stood with hands in his pockets, grey eyes narrowed on Gypsy, who could feel a flush rising over her chest and her face. All of a sudden she felt hot, and wanted to take off some layers.

‘I will make sure Lola is protected. Within twenty-four hours this apartment will be child-proofed. You’ll have to come up with more than such a flimsy pretext to deter me, Gypsy.’

Suspicion and a trickling of cold horror gripped her then, and she asked, ‘Those men…what were they delivering?’

Rico ticked off on his fingers. ‘A pram, a cot, a changing table…I told my assistant to make sure all the basics were bought and delivered. You can let me know what’s missing.’

Gypsy’s hands dropped to her sides. ‘But…I just came to talk…for one evening…one night. We are going home tomorrow. I have work to find, and Lola’s in a routine.’ Hysteria was rising. ‘You have no right to presume anything. We don’t need all that for one night, so you’re just going to have to get it taken away again.’

Rico advanced on Gypsy, and she fought not to snatch up Lola, turn and run. He came and stood before her with a look of almost savage intent on his face, in his eyes, and Gypsy knew that this was the moment she’d realised just how formidable he was going to be.

‘That child is my daughter. I have missed fifteen months of her existence—fifteen months of her development and watching her grow. As far as she’s aware she has no father. It doesn’t matter that she might be too young to realise the import of that now, I do. Know this, Gypsy Butler: as of this day, and from now on, I am in her life and your life. And you, with no job and living in a hovel, are in no position to argue with my wishes.’

Conversely, even as his words horrified Gypsy, she felt on more even ground. She knew what she was dealing with now. She asked, ‘Are you threatening me, Rico? Are you saying that if I were to leave with Lola right now, walk out of here, you would bring down the full force of your power on us?’

A muscle jumped in his jaw. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black and not grey. Eventually he said with chilling calm, ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. If you were to walk out of here right now, the only way I would allow it to happen was if you were to leave alone. ’ He smiled, and it was feral, ‘But, based on the evidence of how determined you’ve been to keep her from me and all to yourself, I don’t think you’ll be doing that.’

The implication that he would quite happily let her walk away sent something dark to Gypsy’s gut. ‘You’re right. I wouldn’t dream of leaving my daughter behind. As for our situation—yes, we’re vulnerable, and certainly in no position to fight you should you decide that it’s necessary. So of course I’m not stupid enough to encourage your wrath. I know how men like you operate, Rico Christofides. You have no compunction about squashing the opposition just so long as you get whatever it is that takes your fancy at the time. We’ll bow to your wishes for now, as we have little choice, but I don’t doubt that as soon as you’ve seen the reality of setting up home with a small child you’ll be throwing us back to where we came from, so you can get on with your self-absorbed existence and your bid for world domination. And as far as I’m concerned that moment can’t come soon enough.’

Gypsy stopped talking. She was breathing hard. Rico was just looking at her, far too assessingly, and she cursed herself for having said too much. But, as she knew well from experience, it would be utterly futile to fight with someone like him. Better to indulge him, let him play out his father role, and wait for him to get bored. She had no doubt he would—especially with red-haired beauties like the one last night waiting in the wings. At the thought of him sleeping with her something even darker clenched in Gypsy’s gut.

Just then Mrs Wakefield bustled back into the room, with tea and sandwiches, and Lola woke up, struggling out of her makeshift bed. Gypsy rushed to help her off the couch, and automatically lifted her away from the hazardous glass coffee table. Lola slipped out of her hands again, like a wriggling eel, and toddled over to the huge window, fascinated by the staggering view.

She pointed when a bird flew past and exclaimed, ‘Birdy!’

Mrs Wakefield finished putting out the tea and went over to make friends with a clearly delighted Lola. After a few minutes of largely nonsensical but earnest chatter from the toddler, she turned to Gypsy, ‘She’s a sunny one, isn’t she?’

Gypsy smiled wryly, glad of the momentary distraction. ‘Most of the time, yes. But woe betide anyone who gets close when she’s tired or hungry…’

Mrs Wakefield held out a hand, and Lola took it trustingly. ‘Why don’t we go off for a little exploring and let Mum and Mr Christofides have their tea?’

Before Gypsy could protest Lola was happily toddling out of the room with Mrs Wakefield, not a care in the world at leaving her mother behind. And while Gypsy felt proud, because it was a sign of a happy and secure child, she also felt absurdly hurt.