The Italian's One-Night Baby Read online

  Bruno stayed with her for about half an hour, making easy comfortable conversation, and it was so relaxing after the emotional angst of dealing with Rio, Ellie acknowledged ruefully. Bruno was a contracts lawyer based in Florence and he was currently staying at his mother’s home to look after it while she was away. When he asked her to dine with him the following evening, Ellie agreed. Polly’s voice was ringing loudly in her ears. ‘Attractive man—tick. Employed—tick. Good manners—tick. Stop looking for what’s wrong with every man you meet!’ Polly had told her that the reason she rarely dated was that she was far too fussy. But Ellie didn’t think that was fair because when it came to men, Polly had proved equally hard to impress.

  The following morning, Ellie drove her little hire car to Beppe’s impressive palazzo. The huge gates stood wide in readiness for her arrival. She drove slowly through the elaborate gravelled gardens that fronted the big house and parked, climbing out, smoothing damp palms down over the casual white skirt she had teamed with a navy-and-white tee and canvas espadrilles. She walked up the shallow steps to the front door and a youthful manservant in a very correct black jacket opened it before she could even reach for the bell.

  ‘Ellie Dixon for Mr Sorrentino,’ she said helpfully.

  ‘Yes,’ he said gruffly in English. ‘He waits for you.’

  Ellie was a mass of nerves and trying not to show it. Could Beppe be her…? No, she refused to think about that because it wasn’t very likely when Beppe had been married at the time. The more likely scenario would be Beppe telling her that he hadn’t known her mother well enough to give her any useful information as to who her father might be.

  ‘Miss Dixon…’ A small man near her own height greeted her at the door of a book-lined room with a warm smile. ‘Come in and sit down. Adriano will bring us morning coffee.’

  With a soft sound of pleasure she sat down in the chair overlooking the beautiful garden. ‘This is such a comfortable room,’ she told him cheerfully. ‘All these books and bits and pieces are fascinating and when you throw the view in, as well—’

  ‘I’m a lifelong collector and passionate gardener,’ Beppe admitted as he sat down opposite her.

  ‘Thank you for being willing to see me like this,’ Ellie said a little awkwardly. ‘I can only hope that I’m not about to say anything that may make you regret it—’

  ‘I don’t take offence easily,’ Beppe reassured her. ‘But I confess that I’m very curious about your mother. What happened to her after she left Italy?’

  ‘I didn’t even know for sure that she had been in Italy, although it was a fairly obvious assumption,’ Ellie admitted, opting for complete honesty as she dug into her bag and extracted the emerald ring. ‘My mother left me this ring…’

  Beppe paled, his easy smile slipping for an instant. He scooped up the ring at the same time as the door opened and Adriano brought in a tray. He spoke to the young man with a couple of hand signals. ‘Adriano’s deaf,’ he muttered absently, his attention still fixedly focussed on the emerald.

  ‘He’s a great lip-reader,’ Ellie remarked.

  ‘He’s had a lot of training over the years. Once he’s acquired the necessary experience working here, he hopes to find a more exciting position abroad,’ Beppe told her and he leant forward to deposit the ring back on the table beside her cup. ‘I gave your mother this ring. It once belonged to my mother,’ he added heavily.

  ‘Okay.’ Taken aback by that admission, Ellie nodded acceptance. ‘So you knew her well?’

  ‘Better than I should have done in the circumstances,’ Beppe confided in a weighted undertone of discomfiture. ‘Annabel spent that summer working for an English family who had a holiday home not far from here. My brother, Vincenzo, met her first and they got engaged before I even met her. I think you would call it a whirlwind romance because they had only known each other for a few weeks.’

  Ellie sighed, thinking of what she had learned about her mother from her sister Polly. ‘What year was that?’

  Beppe told her and the timing dovetailed in Ellie’s mind. Her older sister would only have been a toddler when Annabel came to work in Italy.

  ‘How do I describe Annabel to you…her daughter?’ Beppe sighed. ‘She was full of life and tremendous fun to be with but she was a little impulsive when it came to love.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ellie agreed, wondering what was coming next.

  ‘I was married to a wife who was disabled. That is not an excuse. There can be no excuse for what happened,’ Beppe continued with unconcealed regret. ‘I learned that I was not the man I believed I was. I fell head over heels in love with your mother and it was the same for her. I was thirty-five then, hardly an impressionable boy, and I fully believed that I loved my wife. Amalia was a wonderful wife. It was not an unhappy marriage yet I broke her heart and my brother’s. But mercifully, generously my brother did not choose to publicly accuse me of what I had done and my wife was not humiliated. Together, Amalia and I concentrated on restoring our marriage, locked away that secret affair and moved on.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know what I can say to what you’ve just told me because I know none of the people involved,’ Ellie said carefully. ‘But I am sorry to hear that other people were injured by my mother’s actions.’

  ‘Annabel injured herself most of all. She could’ve had a good life with my brother but she gave him up because she met me,’ Beppe admitted with remorse. ‘Vincenzo was still estranged from me when he died. It was a horrible mess for all of us—’

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ Ellie breathed, feeling inadequate in the face of such honesty and a very personal story, which she had never expected to hear told.

  ‘The last time I saw your mother she was very angry with me,’ Beppe confessed unhappily. ‘I had told her from the outset of our affair that I would not leave my wife but she refused to accept that. My love for my wife was a different kind of love but no less real to me. Although I was an unfaithful husband, Amalia forgave me and we stayed together and we were blessed by many more happy years before she passed away…’

  ‘My goodness… I genuinely didn’t come here to cause you distress, but I can see that I’ve done nothing but rake up disastrous memories!’ Ellie exclaimed guiltily, seeing the tears that shone in Beppe’s dark eyes. ‘Unfortunately, I came here with a very different angle, Beppe. I’m trying to find out who my father is—’

  ‘In Italy?’ he cut in, his surprise unconcealed. ‘Surely you are far too young to believe you were conceived here? When were you born?’

  And she told him and his face became very sombre. ‘I believed you were several years younger, but it is certainly a possibility that I could be the man you seek. Dio mio, that could explain why your mother told me that I would live to regret not leaving my wife for her.’

  Ellie fell silent, disturbed by the harsh nature of what she was learning about the mother she had never known.

  ‘We will have to look into this more. With tests? That is how it is done, is it not?’

  ‘Are you willing to do that?’

  ‘Certamente… Of course,’ Beppe responded. ‘Now perhaps we should discuss something less challenging while we consider what we have both learned.’

  Ellie’s hand shook a little as she lifted her cup because she was marvelling at his calm manner.

  Beppe chuckled. ‘I must be on my very best behaviour now in case you turn out to be a relative.’

  And Ellie’s hopes soared, that he was the man, that he would turn out to be her father and that a lifetime of frustrating speculation would be ended. They parted an hour later with Beppe promising to contact a doctor he was friendly with, who would advise them discreetly on their quest. Tears rolled down Ellie’s cheeks as she drove back to her hotel. She was in a daze and she was praying that Beppe would be the man she sought because she had really, really liked him and it would be beyond wonderful to discover a father she could actually connect with as a person.

  Rio, however, had a very different experi
ence when he joined his godfather for lunch. After what transpired there, bitter anger consumed him and when he left he headed straight to Ellie’s hotel, determined to confront her. Learning that she had gone for a walk to a local landmark, he set off to follow her in his car.

  Ellie paused halfway up the very steep hill and wiped the perspiration from her brow, registering that in such sultry heat, she had tackled a challenge too great for her fitness level. Hearing the sound of an approaching vehicle, she stepped back onto the verge. She was disconcerted to see Rio at the wheel of a very racy scarlet sports car. He braked and leant across to open the passenger door. ‘Get in!’ he told her uninvitingly.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Ellie responded. Her day had been demanding enough without adding him into it.

  Without a word, Rio shot her an intimidating glance from molten gold eyes and sprang out of the car, stalked round the bonnet, and before she could even guess his intention he had scooped her off her startled feet and dropped her into the passenger seat, slamming the door after her.

  ‘What the heck do you think you’re playing at?’ Ellie yelled at him in disbelief as she struggled to open the door to get out again and failed because he had already engaged the child lock to prevent her from doing exactly that.

  Rio shot back behind the wheel, his lean, darkly handsome face granite hard. ‘We have to talk—’

  ‘No, we don’t. I have nothing to say to you!’ Ellie proclaimed vehemently. ‘Let me out of this car—’

  ‘Put your seat belt on!’ Rio growled at her as if she hadn’t spoken.

  ‘No, I won’t. I refuse to go anywhere with you!’ Ellie yelled back at him.

  Rio leant across her to wrench the seat belt round her and she was so taken aback by the second act enforced against her wishes that she studied him in shock. ‘This is kidnapping and assault,’ she informed him furiously. ‘I will go to the police and make an official complaint about you!’

  ‘Go ahead!’ Rio bit out rawly.

  ‘You are out of control,’ Ellie informed him. ‘You’re not thinking about what you’re doing!’

  ‘Sì… If I’d thought about it, I would have come armed with a gag!’ Rio slung at her wrathfully.

  ‘Much good that would do you. I’m a judo black belt,’ Ellie countered. ‘Had I known you were planning to kidnap me, I would have defended myself to stop you grabbing me.’

  ‘Don’t kid yourself,’ Rio practically spat at her as he raked the car on up the hill she had been struggling to climb. ‘If you were assaulted, you would be far too busy assessing the pros and cons of acting aggressively to take action quickly enough to defend yourself!’

  And Ellie was stunned by that eerily accurate reading of her character. Rio was the single exception to her abhorrence of violence in all its forms and even when it came to him she didn’t want to actually hurt him, just hold him at bay or make him go away. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Somewhere we can talk in peace,’ he grated.

  Ellie skimmed an infuriated glance at his set profile, noting the classic slope of his nose, the definition lent by his perfect cheekbones, the outrageous sweep of his black lashes. ‘You’re driving too fast—’

  ‘I am within the speed limit.’

  Ellie flung her head back with a sigh of frustration, her wild mane of hair blowing in the wind. She would look like a rag doll with corkscrew curls by the time she got out of the car but what did that matter? The breeze against her overheated skin was wonderfully cooling. Kidnapping and assault? Rio had a temper worse than her own and that was a revelation that had a surprisingly cooling effect on Ellie’s own temper. She had learned young that she had to learn to control and contain the ferocity of her feelings. Rio, evidently, had not. The oddest sense of compassion flooded her because she had not a doubt that he would be very embarrassed when he looked back and fully thought through what he had done to her.

  Rio, however, was in a rage to surpass all rages and he was well aware of it. Beppe’s distress had provoked a visceral reaction in him that he could not deny or fight. He loved that man, would have done anything for him! That he had failed to shield Beppe from whatever nasty business Ellie had somehow involved him in slashed Rio’s proud protective spirit to the bone. He was going to get the truth out of Ellie if it killed him. Inferno… This mysterious nonsense everybody was refusing to discuss had to end right now because his patience was at an end!

  Rio turned the car off the road down a long track. Dense clusters of ancient oak trees prevented Ellie from seeing more than a few yards ahead and when the car rounded the final bend she had no inkling that they were heading for a house until she saw it right there in front of her. It was a breathtaking palazzo, with a remarkable resemblance to an elaborate dolls’ house, and it fitted into the landscape where it had clearly held its commanding position for centuries. It was built on a hill and undoubtedly had views that stretched for miles. She unclasped her seat belt and climbed out with a look of exasperated tolerance in Rio’s direction once the child lock was finally disengaged.

  ‘You can apologise now,’ Ellie said.

  ‘Apologise?’ Rio practically roared at her in disbelief. ‘Beppe was in tears over lunch! I haven’t seen him in such a state since his wife died. What did you do to him?’

  Ellie froze beside the car, her fine-boned features locking tight, her pallor noticeable. Clearly she had upset Beppe Sorrentino and yet she had never wanted to do that. Had she ever truly considered what her quest to discover her father would do to the man involved? No, she hadn’t, she conceded guiltily. In fact, she had believed that it would be safe to approach Beppe because he was a childless widower who seemed to have no close relatives. Of course, she hadn’t known about Rio’s connection to the older man then and, seeing the intensity of Rio’s fury, she instantly recognised that he was attached to Beppe and it hit her hard. Rio might not be a blood relative but the way he was reacting he might as well have been.

  ‘I didn’t do anything to Beppe. I simply gave him some information he wasn’t expecting to hear,’ Ellie countered uncomfortably, because what on earth was she supposed to say to Rio?

  If Beppe hadn’t told his godson the truth, it was certainly not her place to do so. And she quite understood the older man’s reasoning. He had had an affair while he was married, an affair that more than twenty years on he still obviously regretted. He was ashamed of his affair with her mother and Ellie had to respect that reality. It hurt to appreciate that, even if tests were done and Beppe did prove to be her father, he might well want the existence of an illegitimate daughter to remain a secret. She couldn’t fairly complain about that, couldn’t possibly resent it because Beppe had the right to guard his privacy and make his own choices. That he had agreed to DNA testing was more than enough, she told herself doggedly, scolding herself for the fantasy of having a real father, which she had rather naively begun to entertain. Really, how likely was it that Beppe would seek an ongoing relationship with her now that she was an adult and fully independent?

  ‘Ellie!’ Rio raked back impatiently at her as he stalked back from the front door he had unlocked. She had once watched a tiger pace a cage in the same way and it was distinctly unnerving. For the first time it dawned on her that so volatile a personality should have frightened her and she was even more surprised to acknowledge that, not only was she unafraid, but also ridiculously attracted by Rio’s sheer sizzling intensity. Even so, she wished that like a difficult piece of technology Rio came with a useful book of instructions because she didn’t know how she was supposed to calm him down when she wasn’t in a position to give him the explanation he so plainly wanted.

  ‘The raised voice is getting really old,’ Ellie told him drily instead.

  Dark colour scored his razor-sharp cheekbones. ‘Come inside—’

  ‘Said the kidnapper to his victim,’ Ellie added.

  Rio swore in a flood of Italian.

  ‘Yes, I give as good as I get,’ Ellie pointed out, moving out of the
sunshine into the shadow of the building because calling Rio’s bluff was one thing, but baking alive while doing it would be foolish.

  ‘I brought you to my home because I desired privacy in which to speak to you,’ Rio framed with obvious difficulty in being that polite.

  Ellie pondered her options, which were few. She had neither her phone nor any money on her person. Rio had stranded her in the Tuscan countryside. ‘I’ll come inside but there will be no more shouting and you will not put your hands on me again,’ she warned him.

  ‘I can’t promise that I won’t shout because I am very angry with you,’ Rio admitted in a low-pitched growl as he watched her move towards him, her skirt fluttering above her slender knees, making him very aware of the long shapely legs beneath. His gaze filtered involuntarily upward, lingering on the soft fullness of her pink lips, and shifted with a jerk as she moved, the luscious sway of her full breasts below her top making his mouth run dry. ‘And I wouldn’t promise to keep my hands off you because I’m not sure I could ever deliver on that one, principessa.’

  That honest response and possibly the reuse of that mocking label worked for Ellie and released a little of her nervous tension. In fact, she went pink while inwardly admitting that she wasn’t that much better at keeping her hands off him, regardless of whether she was slapping him or kissing him. Rio awakened very strong reactions inside her. The usual barriers that she employed to keep a careful distance from people were shockingly absent with Rio Benedetti and that awareness rattled her nerves.

  Ellie followed Rio into a cool, tiled hallway that was strikingly contemporary and into a vast reception room furnished with pale leather sofas and several dramatic modern paintings. The gorgeous house might be ancient but the cool interior decor and modern furnishings were in stark contrast.

  Rio spun round to face her again, a dark shadow of stubble accentuating his beautifully shaped mouth and the raw tension etched in the hard line of his lips. And she found herself wondering for the first time if he was ever gentle or tender, traits that seemed far removed from his aggressive, competitive nature. And did it even matter, another voice mocked, when he looked the way he did? That mocking inner voice shocked her because it steamrollered over everything she believed she knew about herself, for since when had she been impressed by appearances? Yet when she looked at Rio, everything sane and sensible vanished from her brain as if it had been wiped. And then there was only room for glorying in his tempestuous male magnificence, room to marvel at the precise arrangement of his lean, darkly charismatic features and the stunning clarity of his smouldering golden eyes. She sucked in a startled breath to fill her deprived lungs.