Rags To Riches Collection. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ his gaze over her. Glancing down, Beth was embarrassed to realise that her nightdress was so thin from age and frequent washing that he could probably see right through it.

      If only she had pulled on her dressing gown before she had rushed out of the nursery. Her breasts felt heavy, and to her horror she saw that her nipples had hardened and were jutting against the almost sheer fabric of her nightdress. Mortified by her body’s betrayal, and confused by the reaction to him that she seemed powerless to control, she stared rigidly at the carpet, sure that he would make a mocking comment.

      He exhaled heavily, as if, like hers, his breath had been trapped in his lungs. A hand cupped her chin and forced her head up, and a tremor ran through Beth when she saw the hard glitter in his steel-grey eyes.

      ‘I would not have forgotten if you had shared my bed,’ he said harshly.

      She flushed, recalling that he had made the same statement when she had first spoken to him in the castle’s great hall. The disparaging look he had given her then had revealed what he thought of her.

      ‘I’m quite aware that I am plain,’ she told him, her voice stiff with hurt pride.

      He gave a rough laugh, as if he was surprised by her words. ‘You cannot believe that.’ Almost as if he could not help himself, he traced the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertips, his touch as light as if she were made of fragile porcelain. ‘Sei bella,’ he said huskily. ‘I find you very lovely, Beth Granger.’

      His face was so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath whisper across her lips. Time, her heartbeat—both seemed to be suspended. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?

      Dear heaven, he was a sorcerer and she was falling under his spell, Beth thought wildly. Was this how he had seduced Mel? Had he murmured sweet lies in his gravelly, sexy accent and mesmerised her with the sultry gleam in his eyes that promised untold delights?

      Luckily the sound of her name restored her sanity. Boring, insipid Beth Granger was certainly not beautiful, she thought dully. If she was, she might have been fostered as a child instead of spending all her teenage years in care. She bit her lip as memories surfaced of having her photograph taken at the children’s home. Photos of the kids in care had been kept with their files and shown to prospective foster families, but it had seemed that only the pretty girls got picked.

      Mel had been fostered a few times, but none of her foster parents had been able to cope with her challenging behaviour and after a few months she’d been sent back to the care home. Like an unwanted Christmas present, she’d joked. But at least Mel had been given the chance to be part of a family, Beth thought. It had been a salutary lesson to realise that she was being judged by her appearance—and found wanting.

      She had reached adulthood firmly believing that she was unattractive. It was just another of life’s disappointments, she’d told herself. Her best attribute was her common sense. But she was ashamed to admit that for a few breathless moments she had been fooled by the look of desire in Cesario’s eyes. A handsome playboy like him was not going to be interested in an unremarkable office cleaner like her, her prosaic mind pointed out.

      But maybe he did not care what she looked like. Maybe he just wanted sex with any woman he believed was available—like he had with Mel. Feeling sick at the idea that he might think she was an easy lay, she jerked away from him and folded her arms across her chest to hide her body’s shameful response to his potent masculinity.

      ‘There is no chance of me ever sharing your bed, so you won’t have to worry about your memory lapses,’ she informed him, with an icy dignity that was somewhat spoiled by the tremor in her voice. ‘I think you should concentrate on trying to remember the night you spent with Mel—the night I believe your daughter was conceived.’

      His eyes gleamed dangerously. She sensed she had angered him, and steeled herself for his caustic retaliation, but the simmering silence was broken by the sound of a baby’s cries.

      Her brow wrinkled. ‘How can I hear Sophie when she is in the nursery?’

      ‘I switched on the baby monitor.’ Cesario nodded towards the device plugged into a wall socket. ‘I always used it when Nicolo was…here.’ He had been about to say alive, but the stark reminder that his son was no longer alive caused a shaft of pain inside him. ‘I knew you were tired and I thought if you were deeply asleep you might not hear Sophie if she stirred.’

      ‘I always hear her, so you needn’t worry.’

      Beth 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.

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