of wild panic paralysed Beth’s vocal cords so that her voice emerged as a faint gasp.
‘Where else would she live?’ Cesario queried, sounding surprised by her reaction. ‘If Sophie is a Piras, then the Castello del Falco is her home and her heritage.’
‘But I am Sophie’s legal guardian. I promised Mel I would be a mother to her baby. And I live in Hackney,’ Beth added desperately, clutching Sophie tightly to her, as if she feared Cesario would snatch the baby from her arms.
‘If I am her father she will have no need of a guardian.’
Cesario’s eyes narrowed speculatively on Beth’s tense face.
‘You clearly went to a lot of trouble to find me,’ he said after a moment, ‘and you were prepared for Sophie to undergo a DNA test. What do you expect me to do if it is established that she is my child? Surely you do not think I would simply allow you to take her back to England?’
‘I …’ Beth floundered, not knowing how to answer. The truth was she had assumed that Cesario Piras would want nothing to do with his daughter. Perhaps the fact that she had been abandoned by her own father had made her cynical. But a man who had had casual sex and carelessly did not use protection did not seem likely to accept responsibility for the baby who had resulted from a one-night stand. Cesario hadn’t even told Mel his name, she thought disgustedly. If it hadn’t been for the newspaper photo the identity of Sophie’s father would have for ever been a mystery.
‘It didn’t occur to me that you might want to be involved with your baby,’ she admitted.
‘Then why go to the effort of tracking me down?’
Cesario’s granite stare was so unnerving that Beth hurriedly looked away from him. ‘I hoped to persuade you to make a financial settlement for Sophie,’ she muttered.
She felt her face flood with colour. The statement sounded so cold-blooded, but she was innately honest and could not deny the truth. The idea of asking for money was abhorrent to her, but the harsh reality was that she could not afford to bring up Sophie on the low wage she earned from her cleaning job. She was a qualified nanny, but after she’d been unfairly sacked from her last position she had lost confidence and became wary of looking for another placement. Even if she could find a better job, the cost of childcare, rent and bills would leave nothing for all the things she wanted Sophie to have: music lessons, ballet classes, new clothes rather than hand-me-downs—all the things she had longed for when she had been a child.
The atmosphere in the library had become tangibly tense. Beth darted Cesario a nervous glance and discovered that his granite gaze had turned to steel: cold and hard and edged with a mocking contempt that caused her stomach to cramp.
‘So you want money?’
‘For Sophie,’ she insisted sharply, stung by his scornful tone. ‘If it is proved that she is your child, then it’s only fair that you should contribute towards her upbringing.’
‘And, as her legal guardian, you assumed you would have control of any allowance I might provide.’ His lip curled. ‘I understand now why agreeing to bring up your friend’s daughter after you had learned that Sophie’s possible father was a billionaire was such an attractive proposition,’ Cesario drawled.
‘It had nothing to do with that,’ Beth denied hotly, appalled by the implication. ‘What a horrible thing to suggest. My only consideration is for Sophie. I love her—and I loved Mel,’ she said thickly. ‘We were best friends. More like sisters. I didn’t expect her to die, but she did. I intend to keep the promise I made to her to take her place as Sophie’s mother, but I don’t think it is unreasonable to ask for a little financial assistance so that I can give Sophie a happy childhood.’
‘If Sophie is my child then she will want for nothing,’ Cesario said harshly. ‘But you will be superfluous. You will no longer be required to act as her guardian and you’ll be free to return to England.’
Fear gripped Beth. ‘What do you mean—superfluous?’ she asked shakily. ‘I’ve cared for Sophie since the day she was born. I took her home from the hospital. One day, when she’s older, I will tell her about her real mother, but for now I’m the only mother she knows and nothing on this earth could persuade me to give her up.’
Cesario was almost convinced that the tremor of emotion in her voice was genuine. Almost—but not quite. He could not forget the fact that Beth had sought him out because she wanted a financial settlement for her friend’s child. He was still stunned by the possibility that Sophie might be his, but if she was then he had a duty towards her, and there was no question in his mind that she should do anything other than live in Sardinia with him.
As for Beth Granger. To his annoyance his gaze was drawn to her face and he felt an unbidden flicker of compassion when he noted the shimmer of tears in her green eyes. For a heartbeat they stared at one another, before she dropped her head and a swathe of her gleaming brown hair fell across her cheek.
A hot, fierce throb of desire flared in Cesario’s groin, taking him by surprise so that he drew a sharp breath. For a few crazy seconds he imagined leaning down and slanting his lips over Beth’s, tracing their moist softness with his tongue.
The thoughts in his head were totally inappropriate, he told himself angrily. Fighting a strong urge to reach out and tuck the silky strands of her hair behind her ear, he strode over to the door.
‘A discussion on the child’s future is premature until a DNA test has been done,’ he said coolly. ‘Until then I hope you will be comfortable at the Castello del Falco. I will instruct my staff to prepare the nursery. Teodoro will escort you upstairs and ensure you have everything you need. But now I must ask you to excuse me while I return to my guests.’
CHAPTER THREE
SHE needed to leave the castle immediately, get back to Oliena, arrange a transfer to the airport and book the next flight back to England. If she disappeared now Cesario would never be able find her. And without a paternity test there would be no risk of him trying to take Sophie away from her.
Beth’s head was spinning with frantic thoughts, but she forced a smile for Cesario’s butler as he ushered her out of the library and motioned that she should follow him up the stairs.
‘There’s been a change of plan. I’ve decided to return to my hotel tonight,’ she told him in a falsely bright tone. ‘There’s no need for anyone to go all the way down to Oliena to collect my things. If you could just call me a taxi, I’ll leave now while the baby has fallen back to sleep.’
Teodoro’s inscrutable expression did not alter. ‘A member of staff has already been dispatched to your hotel and will return with your luggage shortly. Signor Piras gave orders for the nursery to be made ready for the infant. If you would like to follow me, I will escort you there.’
Without another word he resumed his unhurried pace towards the ornately carved oak staircase which wound up to the upper floors of the castle. She was trapped, Beth realised fearfully. The taxi driver who had brought her here had only spoken a few words of English and she did not speak Italian. Even if she could find a phone number for a taxi firm her chances of making herself understood were minimal.
But the thought of staying at the castle made her stomach churn with nervous tension. When she had made the trip to Sardinia it hadn’t crossed her mind that Cesario would want his baby. Maybe she had been wrong to assume that every man was as unreliable as her father, she thought heavily. She had expected Cesario to argue against having a DNA test. And if it had been proved that he was Sophie’s father the most she had hoped for was that he would offer her a small allowance to help with the cost of bringing up his child.
Reluctantly acknowledging that she had no choice, Beth followed the butler up the stairs. Sophie was hers, she assured herself. Mel had appointed her as the baby’s guardian. But would a court decide that Sophie’s father had more right to bring her up than a guardian? She paused as a wave of dizziness swept over her and grabbed