She swallowed, before replying shakily, ‘Hugo Devington.’
His head swivelled round and he pierced her with an intent stare. ‘Why would Hugo Devington have wanted you to appear to be a thief?’
‘Because he needed a reason to sack me after I’d threatened to—’ She broke off and stared down at her fingers as she twisted them together, sickened by unpleasant memories that she had spent the past six months trying to forget. She sensed Cesario’s impatience and forced herself to continue. ‘After I threatened to tell Mrs Devington that her husband had tried to. assault me.’
‘What do you mean by assault?’
Colour flared on her cheeks. ‘Sexually,’ she muttered.
‘Santa Madre! You mean he raped you?’ Cesario felt a violent urge to find Hugo Devington and tear him limb from limb.
‘No—it didn’t get that far. At first he just used to make comments about my body, and if I ever happened to be alone in a room with him he would stand too close and.’ her blush deepened ‘.pat me on the bottom, but then make a joke of it.’
She sighed. ‘I didn’t know what to do, so I just tried to keep out of his way. But then one evening, when Mrs Devington was out, he called me into his study, saying he wanted to discuss one of his sons.’ She unconsciously twisted her fingers tighter together, unaware that Cesario had noted the betraying sign of her distress. ‘Well, to cut a long story short, he tried to kiss me. I pushed him away, of course, and then he got angry and grabbed me. He put his hand up my skirt and tried to … touch me. I managed to fight him off, but he came after me, and so I threatened that I would tell his wife what he had done. I hoped that would be the end of it—that he wouldn’t try anything again—but the next day Mrs Devington’s earrings went missing, and when she searched the house she found them in my room. She wanted to call the police and have me arrested, but Hugo stopped her and said it would be better if I was sacked and left Devington Hall immediately.’
‘Why didn’t you insist that the police were called?’ Cesario demanded. ‘You hadn’t stolen the earrings, so why didn’t you try to defend yourself? Why didn’t you report to the police that Devington had sexually assaulted you?’
‘I had no proof. No one would have believed my word over that of a famous barrister. You didn’t believe me,’ she reminded him.
‘Last night I wasn’t aware of all the facts.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘I owe you an apology. I’d just received a report from my private investigator and I had no reason not to believe that what he’d heard about you was true.’
Beth bit her lip. ‘Why do you believe me now? I could be lying.’
Cesario studied her elfin features. Her pale, almost translucent skin was bare of make-up and her silky brown hair was beautifully natural. There was no artifice about her, and he wondered with a jolt if her virginal air could also be real.
‘You wear your honesty like a badge,’ he said roughly. ‘Your emotions are transparent—your love for Sophie, your kindness to an injured animal. I don’t think you are capable of lying either by word or action.’
His voice deepened, and the seductive huskiness in his tone sent a quiver through Beth. He was watching her through half-closed lids and the searing intensity of his gaze made her catch her breath.
‘Your body did not lie when I kissed you. I felt the sweet urgency of your response.’ He framed her face with his hands and gently stroked her hair behind her ears before he traced the fragile line of her jaw. ‘You are as much a prisoner of this damnable desire that burns between us as I am, mia bella.’
She could not deny it—not when his mouth was so close to hers that his warm breath whispered across her lips. She wanted him to kiss her so desperately that her whole body trembled, and when he closed the few inches that separated his mouth from hers a soft sigh escaped her and she parted her lips with an innocent eagerness that caused Cesario’s gut to clench.
It was different from when he had kissed her in the rain. He was different … gentler; his hands shook a little as he slid them from her face to her throat and then traced the delicate line of her collarbone. He brushed his mouth over hers in a sensual tasting with an underlying tenderness that she found utterly beguiling. Slowly, like a flower unfurling in response to sunlight, she began to kiss him back, tentatively at first. But at his low groan of approval she grew bolder and parted her mouth so that he could explore her with his tongue.
‘Beth,’ he said in a low, urgent voice, as his restraint cracked and he pulled her up against his hard body. His arms tightened around her, one hand tangling in her hair as he angled her head and plundered her mouth with feverish passion.
She responded to him mindlessly, straining her slender body against him and lifting her hands to his face to ensure that he kept his lips on hers. The dark stubble shading his jaw felt abrasive beneath her fingertips. She gently traced the scar that sliced down his cheek and felt him stiffen, but after a moment the tension seemed to drain from him and he deepened the kiss, taking it to another level so that it became a flagrant ravishment of her senses.
Her heart-rate quickened when he slid his hand down from her shoulder to her breast and cupped the small mound in his palm. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her blouse and felt an intense longing for him to undo the buttons and slip his hand inside her bra to touch her bare flesh.
An image flashed into her mind of his darkly tanned fingers curled possessively around her pale breasts, and she shivered with a mixture of anticipation and faint trepidation. No man had ever seen her unclothed before, or caressed her naked body. But Cesario must have made love to dozens of women, perhaps hundreds, she thought, remembering how Mel had described him as a womaniser.
From the cot came a tiny murmur, little more than a sigh as Sophie changed position in her sleep. But the sound shattered the sensual spell that had held Beth enthralled and she tore her mouth from Cesario’s, shaking like a leaf blown in a storm as she snatched air into her lungs.
‘No … I can’t do this,’ she told him in a panicky voice.
What was she doing? her brain demanded. How could she contemplate giving her body to a man who had had a one-night stand with her best friend and who was very possibly the father of Mel’s baby?
Cesario’s eyes narrowed, but he dropped his hands to his sides and frowned when she immediately jerked back from him.
‘What’s the matter?’ His nostrils flared as he fought to control his frustration. His body throbbed with sexual anticipation and the only thought in his head was how desperately he wanted to carry Beth to his room, remove her clothes and position himself between her slim thighs. But the wariness in her eyes forced him to exert formidable will-power over his rampant desire.
He recalled how she had told him that her previous employer had tried to sexually assault her and he felt sick to his stomach. ‘Are you afraid of me?’ he grated.
‘No.’ Beth shook her head. Cesario sounded appalled, and she instinctively wanted to reassure him. ‘Not of you.’ She swallowed. ‘But of myself … of this.’
His assessment of her character had been correct. She could not lie even to protect her pride.
She gave a helpless shrug, unable to put into words how much he overwhelmed her. ‘We are little more than strangers,’ she said shakily. ‘If it wasn’t for Sophie we would never have met.’ She held his gaze and continued quietly. ‘You say you desire me, but perhaps you simply want a woman—any woman—to temporarily share your bed. And I am convenient, like Mel was.’
Cesario fought a strong urge to snatch her back into his arms and shake some sense into her, then kiss her senseless to prove beyond doubt that he desired her more than any woman he had ever met. But essentially she was right in her guess that he would only ever want a brief affair, he acknowledged. He doubted his hunger for her would be satisfied by taking her to bed for one night, but he did not want a long-term relationship, and his interest in his mistresses invariably waned after a few weeks.
And then there
was Sophie to consider—the child who might be his, even though he had no memory of her mother. It was little wonder that Beth was regarding him with deep mistrust in her expressive green eyes.
Another whimper came from the cot. Beth tensed. ‘You should go,’ she whispered. ‘We’re disturbing her.’
Cesario’s mouth twisted as he envisaged the long night ahead of him. It promised to be hell when he was burning up for this pale English rose who could arouse him with one look or one glimpse of her shy smile. But she was right, of course. Sophie must come before any other consideration.
He nodded tersely and forced himself to move away from her. ‘Sleep well, then, Beth—if you can,’ he said sardonically, before he turned and strode out of the nursery.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE sky was a cloudless azure blue when Beth opened the curtains the following morning, and despite her tiredness after another sleepless night when her thoughts had been dominated by Cesario she felt her spirits lift.
‘Look,’ she murmured to Sophie, holding the baby up to the window. ‘The mountains are so clear it’s as if you could reach out and touch them.’
Sophie gurgled happily at the sound of her voice and continued to investigate Beth’s ear with her finger.
‘You are adorable—do you know that?’ A wave of intense love swept through Beth as she rested her cheek against the baby’s silky-soft hair. Sophie had inherited her mother’s dark brown eyes, and Beth felt a sudden rush of tears as she was swamped with memories of Mel.
‘One day I’ll tell you all about your mummy,’ she murmured. ‘She was the best friend anyone could have. She wanted you so much, and she would have loved you with all her heart—just as I do.’
She changed Sophie’s nappy, and was just fastening the buttons on one of the pretty little dresses that her neighbour Maureen in England had passed on, after her granddaughter had outgrown it, when the maid came into the nursery.
‘What are you doing?’ she queried in a puzzled voice when Carlotta opened a drawer, took out Sophie’s sleep-suits and packed them in the nappy bag.
‘You go. You and bambina.’ Carlotta made a valiant attempt to speak English. ‘Signor Piras say you leave now. This day.’
‘I see.’ Heart thumping, Beth scooped up Sophie and hurried out of the nursery. Had Cesario decided not to go ahead with the DNA test and was now sending her and Sophie home? And, if so, had he made that decision because she had called a halt to their passion the previous night?
As she reached the bottom of the staircase he emerged from his study and strode across the hall to meet her. Today the devil-may-care pirate had been transformed into a suave billionaire banker. Dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal-grey suit, pale blue shirt and navy tie, he was to die for, Beth thought weakly. Even his unruly black hair had been tamed a little. But his veneer of sophistication could not disguise his dominant masculinity. He was formidably powerful and undoubtedly ruthless.
Those granite grey eyes above his slashing cheekbones were as hard as steel as he subjected her to an unsparing scrutiny, noting the soft flush of colour that briefly stained her pale face when her gaze met his.
‘Why is Carlotta packing Sophie’s things? She said that we are to leave the castle.’
‘I have meetings scheduled at the Piras-Cossu Bank today and I’ve decided that you and Sophie should come to Rome with me. I’ve contacted a clinic who will carry out the DNA test there. The results should be back within two weeks. I’m sure you agree that the sooner we know the truth of Sophie’s parentage the better,’ he said coolly.
Beth tried to ignore her feeling of dread that if the test proved Cesario was Sophie’s father he would demand custody of her. ‘Has the landslide been cleared already?’ She had assumed that they would be trapped at the castle for several days.
‘No, but the weather has improved, which means that my helicopter can land in the castle grounds. The rain and thick cloud of the last few days made visibility too poor to fly,’ he explained when she gave him a startled look.
‘I’m not taking Sophie on a helicopter.’ The flight on a commercial jet to Sardinia had been nerve-racking enough. It had been the first time Beth had flown and she hadn’t enjoyed the experience.
‘It’s perfectly safe,’ Cesario assured her. ‘I regularly commute to Rome by helicopter.’
He turned his attention to Sophie and gave her a gentle smile. To Beth’s surprise the baby, who was usually reticent with strangers, smiled back and held out her arms to him.
‘Come on, piccola,’ he murmured, his stern features softening as he lifted her and held her against his shoulder. He strode out of the front door, but paused on the steps and glanced back impatiently at Beth. ‘We need to leave.’ He skimmed his eyes over her and added in an amused voice, ‘I see you’ve dressed to audition for a role in The Sound of Music.’
Beth felt a spurt of temper which made her forget her worries about flying. She was well aware that her black skirt was too long and the grey tee shirt too drab. She did not need him to remind her that she was a non-starter in the fashion stakes. ‘I don’t own many clothes,’ she snapped, as she followed him across the courtyard to where the helicopter was waiting.
‘That is something else we will take care of while we are in Rome,’ he murmured obliquely.
There was no chance for her to ask him what he meant while the pilot helped her climb into the helicopter and instructed her to fasten her seat belt. She glanced around the luxurious cabin, at the cream leather seats and polished walnut fitments, including a small drinks bar, and ruefully compared it to the cramped economy seats on the budget airline plane she had flown on to Sardinia. Nothing emphasised Cesario’s billionaire status more acutely than this private helicopter. She did not belong in his rarefied world of the super-rich, she acknowledged heavily. But if Sophie was his child she would have no right to deny the little girl the privileged life Cesario could give her.
Her heart was in her mouth when the helicopter took off, and she closed her eyes so that she could not see the ground growing farther and farther away.
‘Try to relax,’ Cesario said softly, no hint of teasing in his deep voice. He curled his big hand over hers. ‘If you look to your right you can see Lake Cedrino, and over there that high peak is Monte Corrasi, one of the highest mountains in Sardinia.’
The view was breathtaking, Beth discovered, when she warily lifted her lashes. Cesario continued to point out various places of interest and her tension gradually eased—although she was not as relaxed as Sophie, who had fallen asleep in her baby seat.
Soon they were flying over the coast and across the sea towards mainland Italy. ‘We should be in Rome in twenty minutes,’ Cesario told her after a while. ‘We’ll go straight to my apartment. I’ve arranged for a representative from the clinic to meet us there, so that he can take mouth swabs for the DNA test.’
‘I don’t see why it was necessary for me and Sophie to come with you.’ Beth had been puzzling over his decision for most of the flight. ‘Couldn’t you have arranged for the person from the clinic to have flown to the castle?’
‘I could have done. But I have another reason for bringing you to Rome.’ At her enquiring look he continued, ‘I have tickets for the ballet. The Teatro dell’Opera di Roma orchestra and ballet company are putting on a production of Romeo and Juliet. Tonight is the opening night and I thought you might like to come with me.’
‘I’ve never been to the ballet—I’ve only ever watched it on TV.’ Beth quickly quashed her spurt of excitement. ‘But if you have already booked the tickets surely you must have planned to take someone else? You can’t disappoint your.’ she hesitated, wondering about the identity of the other person ‘.friend by taking me instead.’
Cesario shrugged. ‘My guest can no longer come, so her ticket is available. It would be a shame to waste it.’
‘I see.’ An inexplicable feeling of jealousy seared Beth’s insides as she guessed that Cesario had intended to take his
mistress to the ballet. No doubt the woman was gorgeous and sophisticated, as suited Italy’s most eligible billionaire banker. ‘I’d better not come,’ she said stiffly. ‘It might make things awkward between you and your girlfriend.’
Cesario heard the disappointment in her voice and was tempted to shake her—or kiss her. Kissing her was definitely the preferable option, he acknowledged as his gaze lingered on her soft pink mouth.
‘I don’t have a current girlfriend. I bought the ticket for my PA, as a thank-you for the hard work she does for me, but something has come up and she is no longer free tonight.’
It was only a little white lie, Cesario assured himself. He was not going to admit that, after Beth had told him last night about how she had longed for ballet lessons when she was a child, he had phoned one of his contacts and told him to get hold of tickets for tonight’s performance, whatever the cost.
Cesario was searching for something in his briefcase, but Beth had the strangest feeling that he was avoiding looking at her. ‘Come with me tonight if you want to,’ he said casually. ‘I thought you said you liked ballet. But if you’re not interested.’
‘Oh, I am. I’d love to come.’ Another thought struck Beth. ‘But what about Sophie? I can’t leave her, and I’m sure babies aren’t welcome at the opera house.’
‘Don’t worry. Everything is arranged. Sophie will be well cared for while we are out.’
While they had been talking the helicopter had flown over the city, and now it began to descend towards a helipad on the roof of a high-rise building. Beth’s nervousness returned, and she was so intent on gripping her seat that she could barely hear Cesario’s assurance, or question why he had arranged a babysitter before he had known she was to accompany him to the theatre.
The helicopter landed on the roof of the Piras-Cossu Bank’s head offices in the business district of Rome. Beth had a fleeting impression of grey-carpeted corridors, plush offices and lots of tinted glass, before a lift swept them to the ground floor, where they crossed a marble foyer and stepped outside to climb into a waiting limousine.
Behind the Castello Doors Page 10