stared at Cesario and caught her lower lip with her teeth. She did not know what to make of him. His concern for Sophie was unexpected, and did not fit in with the man she had supposed him to be. A few hours ago he had been unaware that he might have fathered a daughter. But, far from rejecting Sophie, he had made it clear that if she was his child he would take responsibility for her.
But what about her? Beth wondered fearfully. What place would she have in Sophie’s life if Cesario decided he wanted the baby to live here at his castle? She wished now that she had not come to Sardinia—wished that she had kept Sophie’s existence a secret. But it was too late for regrets. A DNA test would determine the truth, and if necessary she would fight for her right to be Sophie’s mother—as Mel had wanted.
Another wail from the baby monitor jerked Beth into action. ‘I must go to her,’ she muttered, and hurried from Cesario’s room, thankful to escape his brooding gaze.
What in hell’s name was the matter with him? Cesario asked himself furiously as he stood staring through the doorway long minutes after Beth had fled from him, a fragile wraith in her wispy nightgown that did little to conceal her slender figure. Why had he come on to her like that? No wonder she had looked at him with such wariness in her wide green eyes.
But it had not been fear that had made her tremble for those few moments when he had stood so close to her that he had been aware of the erratic thud of her heart. There had been a fierce, inexplicable connection between them, and he knew she had felt it just as he had. He swore savagely. He had not desired a woman for months. So why was his body burning up for a pale, elfin woman whose reasons for seeking him out were highly suspect?
First thing in the morning he would arrange for the DNA test to be done and determine if the baby that Beth had brought to the castle was his, he decided as he strode into his en-suite bathroom and set the shower setting to cold in the hope of cooling his heated flesh. He did not share Beth’s conviction that he had slept with her friend—it seemed unlikely that he had retained no memory of having sex with Melanie Stewart, however drunk he had been.
There was a good chance Sophie was not his child. If that was the case he would ensure that Beth Granger and her tiny charge were on the first flight back to England, and he would no longer be disturbed by the slanting green eyes that he was convinced had cast a spell over him.
He frowned as he recalled how she had told him she worked an early-morning shift as a cleaner and left Sophie with a neighbour. It was obvious from her shabby clothes that she had little money. His thoughts turned to the beautiful baby girl in the nursery and something tugged on his insides as he remembered Sophie’s gummy smile. If she was not his child perhaps he would make a financial arrangement so that Beth could give up her job and concentrate on caring for the baby, he brooded. After all, he had more money than he knew what to do with, and losing Nicolo had made him realise that he cared nothing for the things that had once been important to him, such as wealth and power. Everything seemed meaningless—including his own life.
* * *
The hands on Beth’s watch showed that it was nine o’clock, and the stream of light filtering through the gap in the curtains indicated that it was morning—which meant that she had overslept and missed her cleaning shift. Horrified, she threw back the sheets—and then took a steadying breath as her brain caught up. She had spent the night at Cesario Piras’s castle, and without her alarm clock to wake her at four-thirty, as it did every other morning, she had slept embarrassingly late.
Sophie had settled straight after her 3:00 a.m. feed, and now, when Beth stole into the nursery, she found the baby still sleeping peacefully. As she moved away from the cot there was a light knock on the door, and a moment later a woman whom she guessed was one of the castle staff entered the nursery, bearing a tray.
‘Ah, you are awake and the bambina is still asleep—that is good. My name is Filomena,’ the woman introduced herself in a loud whisper. ‘I am cook for Signor Piras and I look after his castle. All the other staff—they do what I tell them.’
Beth could well believe it. Filomena was short in stature, and cosily plump, but her flashing black eyes warned of a fiery and formidable personality. However, her smile was welcoming, and when she peeped at Sophie her face softened.
‘Angioletto,’ she breathed before she set the tray down on the table by the window. ‘You can eat breakfast while the bambina sleeps,’ she told Beth. ‘If she wakes I will hold her while you finish.’
The aroma of coffee and freshly baked rolls made Beth’s stomach rumble appreciatively, and the bowl of peaches and cherries looked as inviting as the dish beside it containing creamy yoghurt. But if Sophie acted true to form she would undoubtedly stir the minute Beth started eating, she thought ruefully.
She smiled shyly at Cesario’s cook. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure you must be busy…’
Beady black eyes fixed her with a stern look. ‘Signor Piras say to Filomena that you must eat—so you eat.’ She gave Beth a cursory inspection and sniffed. ‘You are too thin. You will never find a husband.’
Beth did not explain that following her father’s devastating betrayal of her mother she had decided she never wanted a husband. Instead, she deemed it wiser to subside into a chair and help herself to a roll. ‘Is Signor Piras’s word law?’ she murmured.
‘Of course,’ Filomena said cheerfully. ‘He is the master of the Castello del Falco. He is il capo. How you say? The boss.’
‘Yes, I imagine he is,’ Beth said dryly, recalling his hard features and granite-grey eyes. Cesario was king of his castle, and his position as head of one of Italy’s biggest banks must mean that he was immensely powerful. But she had witnessed a gentler side to his nature when he had rocked Sophie off to sleep and could not help but be intrigued by him.
Her mind lingered on those few heart-stopping moments in his room when she had thought that he was going to kiss her, and a little tremor ran through her. Of course she hadn’t wanted him to. Not a man like him—a man who slept around and was careless of the consequences. She stared at the tray in front of her. He was also a man who had instructed his cook to bring her breakfast. He was probably just being a polite host, she told herself firmly, he was not interested in her welfare.
* * *
The torrential rain of the previous night had eased to a fine drizzle which continued to fall from the leaden sky. Beth had spent the morning in the nursery with Sophie, but now, after lunch—which Filomena had brought, and then watched her like a hawk while she ate—a glimmer of sunshine broke through the clouds outside the window.
‘We’ll go for a walk,’ she told the baby as she dressed her in an all-in-one suit. At home she tried to take Sophie out in the fresh air most days. The one-bedroom flat she rented in a grim tower block in East London was cramped, especially now that it was filled with baby paraphernalia, but luckily the Hackney Marshes were close by, and provided an oasis of green in a busy part of London.
Teodoro carried the baby buggy down the castle steps, and once Beth had strapped Sophie into it and tucked a blanket round her she strolled around the courtyard. The Castello del Falco was much less forbidding in daylight, she noted. Built on a plateau close to the summit of the mountain, it was surrounded by higher mountains which rose towards the sky, their lower slopes covered in dense woodland and their grey peaks resembling jagged teeth.
The castle was like something from a fairy tale, Beth mused. Even the stone gargoyles looked impish and mischievous in the sunlight, rather than wickedly cruel as they had when she had arrived during the storm last night. Lulled by the motion of the pushchair, Sophie had drifted off to sleep. There seemed no point in disturbing her by carrying her back inside, so Beth explored the well-tended gardens at the rear of the castle, arranged in a series of terraces. Each tier was beautifully formal, with clipped yew hedges bordered by gravel pathways, ornamental fountains splashing into pools, and graceful marble statues standing serenely amid the lush greenery.
It would be an amazing place for a child to grow up. Beth gave a rueful