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.
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