Tina gripped the edges of her seat and willed herself to be calm. “You can’t force me to stay,” she said, her voice brittle to her own ears.

Nico leaned back and spread his hands to encompass their surroundings. “Can I not? We are on an island. The only way on or off is by helicopter or boat—and I control both of those things.”

Her stomach plummeted through the stone floor of the terrazzo even as a chill shuddered through her. “You’re being purposely contrary. My brother will come looking for me. You can’t prevent that.”

Nico took a leisurely sip of wine, studying her through lowered lids. She endured the scrutiny, though he reminded her once more of a great cat toying with its prey. She sat very still, waiting for him to spring, knowing she was caught even before he did so.

All she could do was wait and see what manner the attack took.

“No,” he said finally, “I can’t stop Renzo from looking for you. But even he cannot separate a man and his wife.”

About the Author

LYNN RAYE HARRIS read her first Mills & Boon® romance when her grandmother carted home a box from a yard sale. She didn’t know she wanted to be a writer then, but she definitely knew she wanted to marry a sheikh or a prince and live the glamorous life she read about in the pages. Instead, she married a military man and moved around the world. These days she makes her home in North Alabama, with her handsome husband and two crazy cats. Writing for Harlequin Mills & Boon is a dream come true. You can visit her at www.lynnrayeharris.com

Recent titles by this same author:

UNNOTICED AND UNTOUCHED

MARRIAGE BEHIND THE FAÇADE

CAPTIVE BUT FORBIDDEN

STRANGERS IN THE DESERT

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Revelations

of the

Night Before

Lynn Raye Harris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Beverly Barton.

You left us too soon, and we all miss you tremendously.

Thank you for your kindness, your encouragement and

your enthusiasm. You were what a true Southern lady

should be. Now that you’ve arrived, I’m sure Heaven is

breaking out the cloth napkins and good china daily.

CHAPTER ONE

SHE could not possibly be pregnant. Valentina D’Angeli’s fingers shook as she studied the test stick, the blue line very clearly trying to tell her she was indeed expecting a baby.

It was too crazy to be believed, and yet …

A chill slid down her spine. The night of the masquerade ball had been the wildest she’d ever experienced; the one night where she’d determined to let down her hair and be the person she’d never been able to be. The free spirit who could sleep with a man and leave him in the morning without a shred of remorse.

For one night, she’d planned to be bold and seductive. She would experience passion and conquer her shyness once and for all. She would be like other women her age—sophisticated, experienced and utterly in control.

Tina set the test stick down and opened another. Surely the first had been damaged somehow. The second would give her the correct answer.

That night had been a good idea in theory, yet even with the anonymity of the mask, she’d been unable to let herself go to the extent her best friend, Lucia, had decided she should.

“You need to get laid, Tina,” Lucia had said.

Tina had blushed and stammered and said yes, of course she needed to—she was tired of being a twenty-four-year-old virgin—but she’d not truly thought it would happen. She’d tried to flirt and dance and be free, but when her partner had pulled her close, his breath smelling faintly of garlic and mint combined, she’d known she couldn’t do it. She’d pushed away from him and run from the palazzo, out onto the dock where it had been quieter and cooler, and gulped in the Venetian night air like a balm.

And that’s when he’d appeared. Not the man she’d run from, but the man she would give herself to before the night was over. He’d been tall, suave, dressed in black velvet and wearing a silk mask over his eyes.

He’d been utterly mesmerizing, and she’d fallen under his spell with far more ease than she’d ever expected. He’d made love to her so tenderly, so perfectly, that she’d wept with the beauty of it.

And with the loneliness of it.

“No names,” he’d whispered in her ear. “No faces.”

She’d agreed, because that was what had made it magical—and yet, once it was over, she’d wanted to know him. She’d felt bereft with the idea she never would.

Tina swallowed the fear that rose from the pit of her stomach and grabbed her by the throat. Sometimes, not knowing was the best thing. She wished to God she still didn’t know.

But as the light from the full moon had slid between the curtains and illuminated the sleeping form of the man beside her, she’d dared to slide the silk mask from his eyes. Her breath stopped in her chest just remembering that moment.

He hadn’t awakened, even when she’d gasped. Even when she’d scrambled from the bed and stood there in the quiet, elegant bedroom of the hotel he’d taken her to. Her heart had turned over, her stomach flipping inside out.

Of all the men in the world.

She’d reacted blindly then. She’d yanked on her clothes as silently as she could—and then she’d fled like the coward she was.

“Right,” she said to herself as she waited for the new test stick to negate the first one. The universe was simply playing a huge joke on her, punishing her for that night of wanton behavior with a man she should not have known at all. What kind of woman gave herself to a man she didn’t even know?

But you do know him. You’ve always known him. Always wanted him.

Tina chewed her lip, her heart beating erratically as the seconds ticked by.

And then the answer came, as clear and soul shattering as the first.

Pregnant.

“There is a woman, my lord,” the man said apologetically.

Niccolo Gavretti, the marchese di Casari, turned from where he’d been gazing out the window of the exclusive Roman hotel’s restaurant and fixed the maître d’ with an even look.

There was always a woman. Women were his favorite hobby—when they weren’t demanding more than he was willing to give or thinking that because he’d slept with them, he owed them something more.

No, he loved women—but on his terms.

“Where is this woman then,” he asked almost wearily.

“She refuses to come inside, my lord.” His tone said that he did not approve.

Nico waived a hand dismissively. “Then she is not my problem.”

The maître d’ bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

Nico turned back to his paper. He’d come here this morning for a business breakfast with an associate, but he’d stayed to drink coffee and read the paper once the meeting was over. He’d not expected a woman to accost him, but then he was hardly surprised, either. A determined woman was often a force to be reckoned with.

Sometimes the results were quite pleasurable and interesting. Other times, not so much.

Only a few moments passed before the maître d’ returned, apologetic and red-faced. “My lord, I beg your pardon.”

Nico set the paper down. His patience was running thin. He had much on his mind lately, not the least of which was dealing with the vast mess his father had bequeathed to him.

“Yes, Andres?”

“The lady says it is most urgent that she speak to you. But she cannot do so in such a public place. She suggests you come to her room.”

Nico resisted rolling his eyes, but only just. Before his father’s death, Nico had been one of the top-ranked Grand Prix motorcycle riders in the world. He’d won the world championship a few months ago. He knew all about the kinds of schemes a woman might employ to catch his interest. He had been the object of many such plots in his life. Sometimes he played along because it amused him to do so.

Today would not be one of those times.

“Please tell her she will be waiting for a very long time,” he said smoothly. And then he glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment elsewhere, I’m afraid.”

The maître d’s face was a study in contrasts. He looked simultaneously uncomfortable and … gleeful was the word Nico wanted … all at once. “She said if you refused to give you this, my lord.”

He held out an envelope on a small tray. Nico hesitated, furious to be playing this game—and intrigued, damn him, as well. He jerked the envelope from the tray and ripped it open. A business card fell out. It was white, plain, with only a stylized D in one corner.

It was the name on the card that pierced him to the bone. He stared at the sweeping font that separated the two words from the paper.

Valentina D’Angeli.

The name sent a slice of old anger ricocheting through him. Not the first name; the last. Valentina’s brother, Renzo D’Angeli, had been his greatest rival on the track. His greatest rival in business, even now.

But once, Renzo had been his best friend. Nico and Renzo had worked together building a motorcycle that would take the racing world by storm—until everything had fallen apart amid accusations of betrayal and deceit.

It was a long time ago, and yet it still had the power to make Nico’s blood hum with dangerous anger. And sadness.

He focused on the name, tried to remember the girl who’d still been a teenager the last time he’d seen her. Valentina D’Angeli. She would be all grown up now. Twenty-four, he calculated. He’d not seen her since the day he’d walked away from the D’Angelis’ house for the last time, knowing he would never be welcomed back again.

Valentina had been a sweet girl, but terribly shy. Her shyness, he remembered, had bothered her brother. So much so that Renzo had planned to send her away to school once he had the money to do so, in the hopes that an exclusive education could fix her.

Nico had tried to convince Renzo to reconsider. He knew what it was like to be sent away to school, and he’d not been shy in the least. He’d felt isolated, no matter how many friends he’d had or how well he’d done in class. And he’d hated the loneliness, the feeling that his parents were happier without him, and that he was in the way when he was at home.

Nico frowned. It hadn’t been far from the truth, but he hadn’t found that out until a few years later.

Still, the exclusive education had certainly done its work on him. He had no doubt that it had done its work on Valentina, as well. The raw stone would now be polished to a high shine.

But what was she doing here?

Nico turned the card over. Room 386 was written on the back. He closed his hand over it. He should walk away. He should get up and walk out the door and forget he’d ever seen this card.

But he wouldn’t. He wanted to know what she wanted from him. Renzo must have sent her, but for what purpose? He’d not seen Renzo since that day on the track in Dubai, the first race of the Grand Prix circuit. Renzo had walked away from racing after it was over. He’d married his secretary and was currently making babies in the country, according to everything Nico had heard.

His blood ran cold. Renzo might be done racing, but he wasn’t done with motorcycles. They were still rivals in business. And Renzo must want something pretty badly to send his sister to get it.

She was nervous. Tina stood by the window and watched the cars moving along the street below. She did not know if he would come. What if he didn’t? Did she dare to go to his offices and demand to be seen? Or should she try and see him at his country estate instead?

Except he had more than one country estate these days, didn’t he? It had been nearly two months since she’d seen him in Venice. In that short time, his father had died and Nico was now the marchese di Casari, a man of far more consequence than he’d been when he used to spend hours working in the garage with Renzo.

Would a man of his stature come to see her? He and Renzo had been enemies for far longer than they’d ever been friends. It was very likely that Nico remembered nothing of her. She’d been a gangly girl, quiet and shy, who had crept into the garage and watched them silently. She hadn’t been at all memorable.

But that was a lifetime ago, and now she stood here pregnant with his child. Tina sucked in a tearful breath. My God. How—how—had this happened? It had been one night, one erotic and beautiful night in which she’d behaved in a way so very unlike her.

She’d hated being so shy growing up, hated even more that no matter how much education she’d had or how hard she worked at being someone bold and sophisticated, she was still the same painfully timid girl inside. The one time she’d determined to push past her comfort zone, to really be bold, the consequences had been staggering.

If she’d known who her mystery man was, she would have fled sooner. Because she wouldn’t have been able to let herself go so thoroughly if she’d known that the man stripping her naked was the same man she’d dreamed about for most of her life.

When she was fourteen, she’d idolized him. He’d been twenty and so achingly handsome that he’d taken her breath away. She’d never learned to relax around him even though he was always nice to her. He’d smiled at her, and she’d turned into a stammering puddle every single time.

And then one day when she’d crept into the garage just to see his handsome face, he hadn’t been there. He’d never been there again, and Renzo had refused to talk about it. She’d lain in her room at night for months and prayed he would come back, but he never did.

There was a knock on the door and Tina jumped at the sound like a startled deer. Doubts assailed her. Should she even be here? Should she tell him her secret?

He would be furious. And quite possibly horrified.

But how could she not? He had a right to know he was going to be a father. A right to know his baby. She’d never known her own father and her mother had refused to tell her who he was, other than to say he’d been English. She would not do that to her own child, no matter how difficult this was.

Swiftly, she strode to the door and yanked it open before she could change her mind. The man on the threshold was tall, dark, gorgeous—a more mature version of the young man she’d fallen for so many years ago. Just seeing him again made sparks zing through her body.

He simmered with tension as his stormy gaze met hers. And then he dropped his eyes down her body, studying her so thoroughly that she blushed.

She’d chosen to wear a skirt with sky-high heels and a silk tank beneath her jacket for this meeting. She knew she looked elegant and competent, as she’d intended, but for a moment the hideously shy teenager was back.

“Valentina?” he said, his voice containing a note of disbelief, and a hint of that sexual magnetism she’d found so irresistible in Venice. How had she forgotten his voice over the years? She could have avoided the situation she was now in if she’d only remembered the silken beauty of his tone, and recognized him sooner.

“Yes. It’s lovely to see you again, Signore Gavretti.” She stepped back, her heart pushing into her throat. She’d spent a night of bliss in his arms, and he had no idea. Until that very moment, she’d half believed he would recognize her when he saw her. That somehow his soul would know she was the one he’d made love to.

But he did not, and it pierced her to the bone. Silly. He was a man, not a magician.

“Won’t you come in?”

He crossed the threshold, and for a moment an invisible hand closed around her throat. What had she done? Why had she thought she could handle him? She’d been unable to handle him that night. No, she’d done everything he’d wanted her to do. Willingly, eagerly, thoroughly—as if the shyness she hid from the world had ceased to exist.

Her body heated as the memories rushed through her. Skin against skin, heat against heat, hard against soft. What would he think of her when he knew?

Tina shoved the memories down deep and walked over to a serving cart. “Tea?” she asked, her hand shaking slightly as she reached for the pot. What she really wanted to do was grab a plate and fan herself with it.

“No.”

She poured herself a cup—decaf, of course—and turned to find him right behind her. She took an automatic step back. His stormy silver eyes were piercing, his expression hard and curious at once. She wanted to run her hand over his jaw, press her lips there the way she had that night … which seemed a lifetime ago.

“You didn’t ask me up here to have tea,” he said darkly. “Tell me what your brother wants and be done with it.”

Tina blinked, the warm feelings floating through her dissipating in an instant. “Renzo has no idea I’m here.” God, no. He’d be furious. Livid. He would probably disown her if he knew.

And he would know, eventually. But that was why she had to tell Nico first. If Renzo found out she were pregnant, he would demand to know the father. There would be hell to pay once he knew who that man was.

Tina set the tea down and pressed a hand to her forehead. It was a mess. A huge, huge mess. Somehow, she had to make it all come out right.

Nico’s smile was anything but friendly. “So this is how we are to play it then?” His gaze slid over her again. “You have grown into a lovely woman, Valentina. A great asset for your brother.”

Tina wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t show that much vulnerability to him. No, Renzo did not consider her an asset. More like a duty. He took care of her, loved her, but refused to consider she might have more to offer than simply being a decorative fixture in his life. She wanted to work for him, but he would not allow it.

“You are a D’Angeli,” he said. “You don’t have to work.”

No, she didn’t have to work. She wanted to work—and if her brother wouldn’t hire her, she was going to work for someone else. She’d gone along with Renzo for the past year, but only in the hopes she could convince him that D’Angeli Motors was where she belonged.

Though she’d graduated with honors in accounting and finance, the only thing she could do with her degree right now, aside from dabble in a few investments with the payouts from her trust fund, was balance her own checkbook.

It made her waspish. “You can hardly claim to know what is in Renzo’s mind these days, can you?”

He stared at her for a heartbeat, his expression hardening. She’d surprised herself by being so snappish. Apparently, she’d surprised him, too.

“Enough of the games. Tell me why you requested this meeting, or we’re through here.”

His tone stung. “You did not used to be so abrupt.”

“And you did not used to play games.”

Tina carried her tea to the couch. She sat gracefully as she’d been taught, and then took a tiny sip, hoping it would calm her suddenly roiling stomach. Perhaps she’d erred in not eating breakfast this morning. But she’d taken one look at the meats, cheeses and eggs arrayed before her on the table and felt she would be violently ill if she ate a bite.

“I’m not playing a game, signore. I’m just unsure how to begin this.” It was the truth.

“You used to call me Nico,” he said. “When you managed to speak to me at all.”

She felt herself flushing with embarrassment at the memory of how she used to be so tongue-tied around him. His face was stern and foreboding, his body tense as he loomed over her in his expensive suit and studied her as if she were something he’d stepped in.

If only he knew …

Tina had to suppress a wild giggle. It wasn’t amusement so much as hysteria, but nevertheless she could hardly give in to it. Besides, he would know soon enough, wouldn’t he? Just as soon as she could manage to say the words.

“That was a long time ago,” she said. “Life was simpler then.”

She thought a flash of emotion crossed his features, but it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. “Life is never simple, cara. It only seems so in retrospect.”

“What happened between you and Renzo?” The words fell from her lips, though she did not intend for them to. Any softening she might have seen on his face was gone again.

“We ceased to be friends. That is enough.”

Tina sighed. She’d always wanted to know why he’d stopped coming around, but Renzo remained tight-lipped about the whole thing. She’d been too young to really understand back then, but she’d thought it was probably temporary. A disagreement between friends.

She’d been wrong.

Her stomach clenched again and she splayed her hand over her belly, as if she could stop the churning simply by doing so.

Nico was on one knee in front of her suddenly. His eyes were the color of a leaden sky, she thought wildly. Any minute the storm would break. Any minute.

But for now he looked concerned, and her heart squeezed. “What is the matter, Valentina? You look … green.”

She swallowed the bile that threatened and tried to sip the tea again. “I’m pregnant,” she said, her heart beating in her ears, her throat.

“Congratulations.” It was said sincerely. And it was all she could do to hold in the nervous laughter pressing at the back of her throat.

“Thank you.” She felt hot, so hot. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, her upper lip. She set the tea down and peeled the jacket from her shoulders. Nico reached up to help her. He stood and laid the jacket over the back of the couch.

His expression was gentler now, but he was still like a caged lion roaming the quiet space of the suite. Any second, and his fangs would be bared, his claws extended.

Tina closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. Focus.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“One of those biscuits would be nice,” she said.

He retrieved a vanilla biscuit from the tea table and handed it to her. Tina broke off a piece and chewed slowly.

Nico shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you could state your business, we can solve whatever this is and go our separate ways.”

“Yes, I suppose we can.” Would he want to be involved? Or would he wash his hands of her the moment she told him? It didn’t really matter, she decided. She was strong enough to have this baby on her own. No one was going to stop her from doing so, either.

She finished the biscuit and leaned back on the couch. It seemed the food would stay down this time, but she knew she needed to eat more.

“I had not realized you’d married,” Nico said.

Her gaze snapped to his, her pulse thrumming. “I’m not married.”

His pause was significant. “Ah.”

Tina fumed at the unspoken implications. “I did not plan this, but I won’t be ashamed of my baby, either.”

“I did not say you should be.” And yet she did not believe him. People like him—people who came from families like his—had very stringent views on proper behavior. She’d learned that in boarding school when the other girls had treated her like scum for not having a father. For having a mother who had once been a waitress, and who had never married even though she’d had children.

Those girls had made her life hell at St. Katherine’s. They hated her because she hadn’t been from old money, because she’d been shy and an easy target for their venom. Rotten snobs, all of them. Except Lucia, of course.

Tina clenched her fingers into the cushion. Nico was one of those people, from old money and lineage. And he was judging her, finding her lacking. It should make her want to hide.

Instead, it made her angry. “No, you did not say anything. But you’re thinking it.”

He looked cool and gorgeous standing there. Remote. “I’m not thinking anything. Except for what any of this possibly has to do with me.”

She stared at him for several heartbeats, as her breath seemed to stop inside her lungs. It was now or never, wasn’t it? He’d given her the opportunity. She had to say the words. But forcing them out was like trying to stop snowflakes from melting on her tongue.

“It has everything to do with you,” she finally managed, her voice little more than a whisper.

But he heard her. His expression changed, became even icier. He was the aristocrat, and she was the mixed breed dog who didn’t even have a father.

“I fail to see how. Until today, I haven’t laid eyes on you in nearly ten years. And believe me,” he said, his gaze skimming over her again, “I would remember doing so.”

His voice was sex itself, and she flushed. But she looked him dead in the eye and refused to flinch as she said the next words.

“Not necessarily. Not if it was dark and we—we wore masks.”

CHAPTER TWO

NICO’S stomach felt strangely hollow. He was standing here, looking at this woman who he could hardly believe was the grown-up little sister of his old friend and archrival, and he knew what she was saying even though she did not actually speak the words.

She was telling him she was pregnant. With his child.

But he knew it was a lie. No matter what she said about Venice and the masks, she was not that woman. It was a trick, a ruse cooked up by her brother in order to settle old scores. Oddly, it disappointed him to think she could be as ruthless as Renzo when she’d once been so shy.

He didn’t know how they knew, but he would not fall for it.

His gaze raked her body as he tried to recall the woman he’d shared that night with. He’d found her on the docks outside the palazzo, gulping air and shivering. He’d feared something bad had happened to her initially, but that had not been the case at all.

He remembered how sweetly innocent she’d been, and how he’d been drawn to her in spite of his usual preference for more experienced bed partners. He had not thought she would be a virgin, but she’d surprised him on that score, as well.

How could this be the same woman?

It couldn’t be. Somehow, Valentina D’Angeli knew the woman he’d been with and she and her brother were using the situation to their advantage. It was too outrageous otherwise.

“You are lying,” he said.

Her eyes widened with hurt. “Why would I do that? What could I possibly gain from something like this?”

Fury roared through him in giant waves. She played the innocent so well. “I can imagine a few things,” he grated. “I am wealthy. Titled. And my company is a thorn in D’Angeli Motors’ side.”

Her brows drew down in a dark frown. Unwelcome heat flared inside him as she stood.

It hit him like a blow that she was very beautiful, with strong features and smooth skin and a mouth that needed kissing. Her chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders in an insane riot of curls. He would have remembered hair like that, hair that twisted and curled and caught the light like it had been dusted with gold. He cast his mind back to that night, saw long dark hair that was thick and shiny … and straight.

Violet eyes flashed fire as she put her hands on her hips and faced him squarely. “Six weeks ago, you did not have a title. And my brother has as much money as you do, if not more. As for the companies, I could give a damn about either of them for all the good it would do me.”

Nico tried not to be distracted by the way her waist curved in over the flare of her hips or the way her posture emphasized the full thrust of her breasts against her silk shirt. His body was hyperaware of her, but he could handle that. He simply refused to give in to the attraction.

“Her hair was straight,” he said coldly.

She blinked, and triumph surged within him. He had her there. What a pretty liar she was.

Then she laughed at him as she twisted a finger into a curl and pulled it straight. “It’s called a blow out, you idiot. Give me twenty minutes with a hair dryer, and I’ll show you hair as straight as a file.”

He stiffened. “That hardly proves it was you.”

She took a step closer to him, and he had the distinct impression she was stalking him. It turned him on more than it ought. For a moment he wanted to close the distance between them, wanted to fit his mouth to hers and see if the sparks he felt in the air also extended to the physical. He had enough self-control not to do so, however.

She tilted her chin up, those eyes still flashing fire at him. She had a temper. He didn’t remember that about her, but then she’d only been a teenager when he’d last known her. All he remembered about her then was a girl who hid behind her hair and went mute whenever he spoke to her.

Now she jabbed a manicured finger at him. “Shall I tell you everything about that night, starting with the moment you asked me if I was okay on the dock? Or should I describe your room at the Hotel Daniele? The way you turned off all the lights and told me no names and no faces? The way you peeled off my gown and kissed my skin while I—” here she swallowed “—I gasped?”

She broke off then, her face red, and Nico felt a jolt of need coiling at the base of his spine. He’d bedded a lot of women over the years, but none so fascinating as the one he’d taken that night. It had been a true one-night stand, and in the morning he’d awakened to find her gone. He’d been rather amused with the way it had made him feel, as if she’d used him and discarded him, and yet he’d been wistful, too.

Because, no matter what he’d said to his mystery woman about remaining anonymous, he’d wanted to see her again after that night. There’d been something between them that he’d wanted to explore further. It had only been sex, he knew that, but when he found a woman he enjoyed, he usually spent more than one night with her.

He’d asked the hotel staff if they remembered her or if they had seen which direction she’d gone in when she’d left.

The lone man on duty that night had said she’d left around two in the morning, silk-and-feather mask intact and pale green dress clutched in her fists as she ran through the lobby. He had not noted which direction she’d gone after she’d taken the gondola, and he didn’t remember which gondolier had taken her.

A general inquiry of the gondoliers plying that part of the city had turned up nothing.

And that had been the end of that. Nico had been disappointed, but he’d gotten over it soon enough. It was sex, not love—and he could find plenty of sexual partners when the need arose. One sexy, inexperienced woman was not necessary to his life any more than a fine brandy was. They were both enjoyable, but completely dispensable.

“You could have learned those details from someone else. They prove nothing,” he told her. And yet his blood hummed at her nearness, almost the way it had that night.

Her head dipped then, her eyes dropping away from his. “This is ridiculous,” she breathed. And then she turned and sank onto the couch again, her eyes closing as her skin whitened.

Guilt pricked him. “Do you need another biscuit? More tea?”

“No. I just need to sit a moment.” She looked up at him, her mouth turning down in a frown. “You’re right, of course. I’m making the whole thing up. Renzo put me up to it so we could embarrass you. Because of course you would be embarrassed, wouldn’t you? You, the man who has at least a dozen scantily clad paddock girls clinging to you after your races, the man who appears in the tabloids on a regular basis with some new woman on his arm, the man who famously stood in the middle of a party one evening and kissed every woman who asked to be kissed—yes, that man would be so embarrassed by me and my baby, though we would probably only burnish his bad-boy reputation.”

Anger flared inside him. She was making fun of him—and the worst part was that what she said made a perverse sort of sense.

“How do I know what you and Renzo have in mind?” he snapped. “Perhaps you see this as a way to infuse the D’Angeli blood with legitimacy and credibility. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with title hunters, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

He didn’t think it was possible she could grow any paler, but she did.

“You are vile,” she said. “So full of yourself and your inflated sense of self-importance. I don’t know why I wanted to tell you about the baby, but I thought you had a right to know. And I certainly don’t want anything from you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to just sit here quietly. I’d show you out, but I’m certain you can find the door.”

Nico stared down at her for several heartbeats. She seemed distressed, and his natural instinct was to stay and help her. But he couldn’t forgive what she was trying to do to him.

“You’ve forgotten one very important detail about that night, cara. Perhaps your informant failed to mention it, or perhaps she did and you were hoping I’d forgotten, but we used protection. I may enjoy a variety of bed partners, but I am not stupid or careless.”

“I’m well aware of it, but the box does say ninety-nine percent effective, does it not? We seem to be the one percent for whom it was not.”

His jaw clenched together so hard he thought his teeth might crack. “Nice try, bella, but it’s not working. Tell Renzo to think up something else.”

And then he walked out the door and shut it firmly behind him.

Tina wanted to throw something, but the effort wouldn’t be worth the slim satisfaction she would feel, so she continued to sit on the couch, sip tea and nibble biscuits until her stomach calmed down.

She should feel satisfied that she’d done the right thing and told him, but all she felt was anger and frustration. Whatever had happened between her brother and Nico, it had certainly created a lingering animosity.

She had come to a realization, though. She would not tell Renzo who had fathered her baby. He would demand to know, but it wasn’t his right to know. She was twenty-four and capable of making her own decisions. She’d gotten herself into this, and she would deal with the consequences. Perhaps it was for the best that Nico refused to believe her. Now it wasn’t necessary that she tell anyone.

Her mother, at least, would support her decision. How could she not, when she’d spent years denying Tina the right to know who her own father was?

Tina frowned. Poor Mama. Her mother had been in and out of love dozens of times that Tina could recall. Even now, she was off to Bora-Bora with her current lover, a man who Tina hoped was finally the right one. If anyone deserved love, it was Mama. She’d worked hard and sacrificed a lot until Renzo had started building his motorcycles and making money at it.

Tina sighed. At least she had a reprieve for a while. Mama was away, and Renzo, Faith and their baby were on their private yacht somewhere in the Caribbean, enjoying their first vacation in months. Not only that, but Renzo was also recuperating from surgery to repair his damaged leg. The last thing she wanted was to disrupt his recovery with her news.

No, as much as she might like to talk to her sister-in-law about being pregnant, Tina knew it was best if she was alone for now. By the time everyone returned, she would be further along and more confident in her ability to deal with them all.

As the afternoon wore on, she started to feel immensely better. She decided to leave Rome early the next morning and head for the family vacation home on Capri. She felt jittery after her meeting with Nico and she wanted to get far away from the city. From him. Not that she expected him to come back, but knowing he was in the same city—sleeping, eating, having sex with other women—was too much just now.

A few days in the lemon-scented breezes of Capri would do her good. But first she would call Lucia and see if her friend wanted to get together for dinner. She hadn’t yet told anyone she was pregnant; she would start with Lucia, see how that went. If nothing else, it would be good practice for that moment when she had to tell her family.

Tina had not told Lucia who her mystery lover had been, though she’d admitted to spending the night with a man when Lucia had pressed her about it. Her friend had been so happy to hear it, as if she’d never quite believed that Tina would go through with it.

Tina wasn’t sure Lucia would be happy about the consequences, however.

She left a message on Lucia’s mobile phone and then decided to go to the Via dei Condotti for some shopping. But first she would walk from the Piazza Navona to the Pantheon in order to clear her head a bit. The walk wasn’t long, but it wound through some of the most picturesque of Rome’s neighborhoods. She changed into jeans and sandals and added a scarf around her neck.

When she was done, she left the hotel and headed for the Pantheon. She passed gelato shops, antiques shops with paintings and elegant inlaid furniture in the windows, trattorias with chairs and tables lining the pedestrian way, and finally came out on the square where the Pantheon sat, ancient and silent against a bright blue sky.

It was her favorite monument in Rome. She passed inside, beneath the forest of tall columns and into the cavernous chamber with the huge circle cut out in the center of the ceiling high above. Ignoring the tourists with their cameras, she skirted the roped off area in the center and took a seat on one of the benches facing the altar that had been added much later when the structure had been turned into a church.

And then she tilted her head back and watched a wisp of a cloud float over the opening above. For some reason, this building made her feel peaceful. It always had. Once, when she had been home on break from school and didn’t want to go back again, she’d snuck out of Renzo’s apartment and come here. She’d sat for hours just like this until one of her brother’s security team had found her and made her return home and, ultimately, back to the private school that had terrified her until she’d met Lucia and made a friend.

“She had a scar.” The voice in her ear was startling. The noise in the Pantheon was always a dull murmur, but this voice pierced her solitude and made her gasp.

Tina whipped around to look at the dark, brooding male now sitting beside her on the bench. Her heart flipped, as it always did, whenever she looked at him. It was very annoying.

“An appendix scar,” he continued. “Just here.” He made a slashing motion over his abdomen, to the right of his belly button and above his hip bone.

“I had my appendix out four years ago,” she said coolly.

His silver eyes looked troubled. “I don’t suppose you would show me this scar?”

“I would, in fact. But not at this very moment, if you don’t mind. And even if you do,” she added irritably. She would not jump to his tune just because he wished it.

The intensity of his gaze did not relent. “Assuming you have this scar, and you are the woman from that night, how did you know it was me?”

She looked up at the perfectly round slice of sky overhead. A bird sailed high over the opening, wings outstretched as it rode the currents. “I slid your mask off. And when I realized who you were, I ran away.”

“How do I know that’s the truth? That you didn’t wait for me that night and set the whole thing up?”

She turned her head to meet his hot gaze, and her belly clenched. It was a different sensation than the one where the baby played havoc with her body. This tightening was a feeling that happened whenever she looked at this man. Only at this man. It was startling and disturbing all at once.

“Don’t you suppose that if I’d been waiting for you, I’d have gone about the whole thing differently? I’m pretty sure that hiding on the dock like a frightened, nearly sick child isn’t exactly the way to attract a man.”

“And yet it worked,” he said coldly.

Tina sat up straight, fury vibrating through her. “Look, if you want to believe this is all a ruse, that I’m lying or that I set you up, then fine, believe it. But don’t sit here and bother me with your theories, okay? I told you what I thought you should know, and now I’m done. I don’t want anything from you, Nico. I don’t expect anything. I just thought you might like to know your child.”

She started to rise, but he clamped a hand around her wrist and kept her on the bench. His fingers were long and strong, and his touch sent a jolt of energy radiating through her body. She jerked her wrist away and folded her arms over her midsection.

He bent closer to her until only she could hear the hard words coming from his lips. “If you are carrying my child, Valentina, I will be involved in his life. I refuse to pay child support and only see him whenever you allow it, or whenever the courts dictate. If you are carrying my child, then you are mine, as well.”

His eyes were stormy gray pools that slid deep into her soul and tore at her facade of calm. Her instinct was to recoil, but she didn’t. She hadn’t lived through boarding school, and the blue-blooded girls—girls from families like his—who’d thought they were far better than she was, to cave in whenever a man glared at her and told her how he believed things were going to be done.

When met with icy disdain, she returned icy disdain.

She shouldered her purse and stood. This time he did not try to stop her. It was a comfort to be able to gaze down at him, but she realized it was a false comfort. He was as dangerous as always, as tightly leashed and volatile as a stick of dynamite.

And she was about to light the fuse.

“You don’t own me, Nico. If you want to be involved, we’ll work something out. I want our baby to know his—or her—father. You both deserve that. And I want you to be in our baby’s life. But I won’t be part of the game between you and Renzo. I refuse to be.”

The fuse sparked and caught. His smile was cold and lethal, and she shivered deep inside. He lived for this, she thought. Lived for mayhem and challenge. It was why he rode the motorcycles at death-defying speeds, why he slept his way through the phone book without remorse, and why he was not about to back down now.

She’d lit the fuse, but the explosion would be a long time coming. And it frightened her.

“Too late, cara,” he said silkily. “You already are.”

CHAPTER THREE

THEY sat inside a hotel restaurant facing the Pantheon and Tina stared at the crowds milling in the square. People with cameras, backpacks and books strolled around with their chins in the air, their necks craned to take in the ancient structure. A horse and carriage sat nearby, waiting to take tourists willing to part with their money on a short ride to the next attraction.

They looked happy, she thought wistfully. Happy people seeing the sights while she sat inside the crowded hotel at a table beside the window and waited for someone to bring her a bowl of soup.

Nico sat across from her, his big body sprawled elegantly in the chair, his phone to his ear. She’d tried to walk out on him, but she’d not gotten far before she’d had to stop and lean against a column for a moment.

And he was there, his fingers closing around her arm, holding her up, pulling her into the curve of his body. Then he’d demanded to know what she’d eaten that day. When she’d said only a biscuit or two, he’d hauled her over to this restaurant and plunked her down at the table before ordering soup, bread and acqua minerale.

He finished his call and picked up his coffee in a long-fingered hand while she resolutely looked away. She didn’t want to study the beauty of those fingers, didn’t want to remember them on her body, the way they’d stroked her so softly and sensually, the way they’d awakened sensations inside her that she’d never quite felt before.

Everything about being with Nico had been a revelation. As much as she wished she could forget the whole thing, she could in fact forget nothing. Worse, she wanted to experience it all again.

The soup arrived and she found that she was starving. After a few careful bites, she ate with more gusto than she’d been able to enjoy for days now. She didn’t know if the soup would stay down, but eating was preferable to talking to Nico right now.

She could feel him watching her. Finally, she looked up and caught him studying her as if he were really seeing her for the first time. It disconcerted her.

She dropped the spoon and sat back. “Is there a problem?” she snapped. The words shocked her since she didn’t usually seek confrontation as she couldn’t bear to have anyone angry with her.

And yet she found she did not care when it came to this man. He was already angry with her. What did it matter if she challenged him? It would change nothing about the way he sat there smoldering with fury.

And blistering sex appeal. She couldn’t forget the sex appeal.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said smoothly, and she felt angry color rising in her cheeks. He was baiting her and she was falling for it every time. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut and let him smolder?

Hard on the heels of anger came fear. It surprised her. But it was a cold fear that wrapped around her throat and squeezed as she considered all the implications of what had happened between them.

Why had she told him about the baby? She should have kept silent. It wouldn’t have truly hurt her baby not to know its father just as it hadn’t hurt her. And her family would be safe from this man’s fury.

Because he was furious, she was certain. Coldly furious. And calculating. She had no idea what he was capable of, but she feared it. He was not the same person he’d been when she’d idolized him as a teen.

“I appreciate the lunch,” she said, pushing her chair back, “but I’m afraid I have to go now.”

He watched her almost indolently. She wasn’t fooled. He was like a great cat lounging in the sun, one minute content, the next springing to life to bring down a gazelle.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Valentina.” He spoke mildly, but again she was reminded of the cat. He was toying with her.

She thrust her chin out. “You can’t stop me.”

His eyes gleamed in the light streaming in from the window. “I already have.” He motioned to the waiter, and then took out a credit card and handed it to the man when he arrived with the bill.

Tina sucked in a deep breath and tried not to panic. She was not this man’s prisoner. She could get up and walk out of this restaurant and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He didn’t own her in any way, nor would he.

Tina grabbed her purse and headed for the exit. She didn’t run, but she was very aware of what was happening behind her. Nico didn’t say a word, his chair didn’t scrape the floor, and she breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t following her. She burst into the open, the sunlight lasering into her eyes as the noise from the square assaulted her.

She turned and walked blindly, not caring where she went so long as Nico did not follow. This time, she would escape him. She would return to the hotel soon enough, but for now she just wanted to get lost in the crowds. He did not own her, no matter what he said. She repeated it over and over to herself as she walked down the cobbled streets, dodging tourists with cameras who weren’t paying attention to where they were going, and men who hooted and whistled at her.

These were not the middle ages; women had babies on their own all the time. She did not need a man in her life, and she certainly didn’t need that one. He could not compel her to do anything she did not want to do.

Tina walked until she found herself crossing a busy street, and then she was among the pedestrians again, walking alongside booths that had designer knock-off purses, scarves, bottle openers, and miniature Colosseums and Pantheons among their wares. The pedestrian traffic grew heavier the farther she went, and then the sound of rushing water came to her ears. A few steps more and she stood in front of the massive facade of the Trevi Fountain. She clutched her purse tightly to her body as she navigated the crowd and made her way down to the foot of the fountain.

Water gushed from below the feet of Neptune, over the troughs below the horses, and into the vast bowl of the fountain. Tina stood there with her heart aching. People laughed and took pictures of each other. A smiling couple held hands and then threw a coin into the water together. Impulsively, Tina dug a coin from her purse and gripped it hard enough so that the smooth round edge imprinted into her palm. Then she closed her eyes and said her wish to herself before she threw it into the water.

She wished that Nico would leave her alone, and that Renzo would never find out who had fathered her baby. Too late, a voice in her head told her. If you’d wanted that, you never should have told him.

She stood there a few minutes more before she turned to climb back up the steps as people jostled for position. She came to an abrupt stop when she looked up and realized who stood at the top, waiting for her.

So much for wishes.

He was silhouetted against the purpling sky, his dark form drawing more eyes than just hers. Tina’s heart skipped a beat as she gazed up into that beautiful dark face. His hands were in his pockets. He looked, for the barest of moments, lonely.

But that could not be right. Niccolo Gavretti was not the kind of man who would ever be lonely. He was wealthy, titled and gorgeous. And, as she knew from experience, a sensual and amazing lover.

He was the last person in the world who should ever be lonely.

He held out a hand to her, beckoning her. She took the last few steps, reluctantly placing her hand in his as she neared the top. He steadied her over the last step and then she was standing beside him, her purse clasped to her chest like a shield.

As if anything could protect her from him.

“I’ve made an appointment with one of the city’s top obstetricians, unless you have a doctor you prefer.”

She shook her head, suddenly defeated. If she ran, he would follow, and if she fought, he would fight back. He was a force to be reckoned with, and she did not truly want to fight him. That was not how she wished her relationship with the father of her baby to be. If she had a hope of staving off trouble, she would go with him. For now.

Nico put a hand in her back and guided her through the crowd until they popped out onto a street nearby. A dark Mercedes sat with the engine idling, and when they approached it a man got out and opened the door for them.

Once they were inside, the doors closed and they were soon moving through traffic. The glass was up between the driver and them, and there was nothing but silence in the rich interior of the car.

“Now would be a good time to show me the scar,” Nico said at last.

“I’m not sure I want to,” she said softly. “I think I liked it better when you thought I was lying.”

The leather squeaked as he turned toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you, Valentina.”

“Or my family,” she added firmly. Because she realized now that it was a very real possibility he would go after Renzo somehow. She had seriously underestimated the depth of his hatred for her brother—and Renzo’s for him.

There was silence for a moment. “I can’t promise that.”

Her heart felt pinched in her chest. She pictured Renzo with Faith and their son, and it killed her to think that she could be responsible for causing them trouble. “I will do as you ask, without complaint, so long as you leave Renzo out of this.”

He studied her for a long moment. “I’m still not positive he doesn’t have something to do with this situation. Why would I leave him out of it?”

This is your fault.

Yes, it was her fault. Anger began to swell inside her again, crowding out the despair, glowing and expanding until she thought she would burst with it, until her skin was on fire from trying to contain it all. Men!

“I love my brother, but if you think for one moment I would agree to some scheme that involved me getting pregnant just so he could get back at you somehow, then you are insane! What woman in her right mind would let her body be used like that for the express purpose of revenge? I have no idea what happened between you, but no one died so I’m pretty certain it wasn’t that bad. What you’re suggesting is disgusting.

“And not only that,” she added when he didn’t say anything, “I think the two of you are pigheaded and foolish for allowing this to continue all these years. It’s childish to have a mortal enemy. No one has mortal enemies these days.”

“Rich men do,” he said, but for once his voice wasn’t harsh or hard or angry.

Tina folded her arms against her body. “I doubt it’s that bad. I simply think you make it so.”

“What an innocent life you’ve led,” he replied, and a current of old shame flooded her.

Yes, she’d been naive for far too long. She’d grown up sheltered, pampered and scared to say boo. Boarding school, and then university, had done much to erode her shyness—but at heart she was still that girl who hid behind her hair and feared the world.

Except that she refused to show that fear. To anyone. She put a hand over her belly. She had to be strong now, no matter what. No matter that she was scared. No matter that she quaked inside at the thought of what she’d done to her family.

“If by ‘innocent’ you mean that I fail to see the need to harm others, then fine, call me innocent.”

He made a soft noise of disbelief. “In business, my dear, you must always be willing to be ruthless. It’s the only way to survive and thrive.”

“And yet it’s not necessary in one’s personal life, is it? Any man who is ruthless in his personal life will soon find himself alone.”

“Perhaps it’s not so bad to be alone,” he said. “Able to choose when you share your life and bed with someone, and able to go home again when you’re tired of the work that being with another person takes.”

“It sounds like an empty life,” she said sadly.

His jaw tightened only slightly, but she knew she’d scored a hit. What she didn’t know was why. She’d spent the past few years reading about him in the papers, and he seemed anything but lonely or empty. Yet he reacted to her words as if he had been. It made her wonder what he kept hidden from the world.

“Show me the scar,” he commanded her, and her feelings of empathy dissolved like smoke.

Tina clenched her teeth together. She wanted to refuse, but what was the point? She was pregnant with his child. She’d started this ball rolling down the hill and she had no choice but to go along for the ride.

Angrily, she ripped her shirt from her jeans and shoved the waistband down just enough for him to see the short scar running diagonally across her lower abdomen. She heard his breath hiss in, and then his fingertips slid along her skin, tracing the edges.

Tina went utterly still while inside her body sizzled and sparked like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. Flame followed in the wake of his fingers, and pain, as well. Not from the scar—it was too old to hurt—but from the strength of the need that took up residence in her core and refused to abate.

Nico looked up then, his eyes reflecting the same heat that she knew must be in her own. With a strength of will she would have never guessed she possessed, she pushed his hand away and hastily tucked her shirt back in. Her cheeks were hot, and she refused to look at him.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. When he did, his voice was more tender than she’d expected it to be.

“It was you.”

Tina realized that tears were pricking her eyes. She looked up at him, uncaring if he saw the emotion written on her face.

“I wish it hadn’t been,” she told him truthfully. Once, she’d fantasized about him, when she’d been young and naive and didn’t know what making love meant. She’d wanted him to fall in love with her, to kiss her and marry her and think she was the most beautiful woman alive—that’s all she knew when she’d been a teenager, but it had been her happy fantasy for at least a year. And then, once he’d gone away, she’d continued to dream about him.

Yes, she’d wanted him, but not like this. Not with this kind of animosity and mistrust. What had happened between them in Venice, beautiful though it might have been, was a mistake.

His lips thinned, the corners of his mouth white with suppressed anger. Though they were true, she wished she could take back the words, if only to try and rebuild whatever fragile peace they might have made, but it was too late.

The car stopped while she tried to think of something to say, and the driver came to open the door. Silently, Nico ushered her into the obstetrician’s office, his fingers firm and burning in her back. His scent wrapped around her senses and made her throat ache with memories of their night together.

The girl on duty at the front desk didn’t even look up as they approached. She handed over a clipboard and told Tina to fill it out without ever once making eye contact.

“We are expected,” Nico said tightly, “and I am a busy man.”

The girl’s head snapped up, her eyes widening as she recognized the man standing before her. “Signore Gavretti—I mean, my lord—forgive me. Please come this way.”

From that moment on, things moved quickly. Tina was shown into an ultrasound room and made to disrobe. After the technician took images and dated the pregnancy, she dressed and went into the doctor’s office where Nico sat silently sending messages on his phone. A few moments later, the doctor arrived and talked to them about her health, the baby and what needed to happen every few weeks.

There would be regular ultrasounds, and at twenty weeks they would know the sex of the baby if they chose. There were vitamins to take, blood tests to have done and urine samples to give.

There were even classes to be taken, though she wasn’t sure that Nico would be coaching her through anything when it came to childbirth. And she wasn’t sure she wanted him to do so, either.

By the time they left the doctor’s office, Tina’s head was reeling. Instinctively, she put her hand over her still flat abdomen as if protecting the tiny life growing there.

A baby. She was truly having a baby, and she’d seen the little tiny lump on the screen for herself. Nico had seen it, too, but in the photo the doctor had handed to him in the office. He’d seemed a bit taken aback at first, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it, but there was no denying she was pregnant and no denying that the conception date coincided with the night they were together.

Now he was silent as they rode through the streets of Rome. Outside the car window, traffic screeched and honked, but inside it remained eerily quiet.

Eventually, she realized they were not heading in the direction of her hotel. Her heart began to beat a little harder as she turned to him.

“I’m tired, Nico. I want to go back to my hotel and pack.” She’d had a text message from Lucia, but she hadn’t yet answered it. Since her friend was unable to get together for dinner, it wasn’t crucial that she do so right away.

Nico’s expression gave nothing away as he looked over at her. He was like a block of ice, so cold and unapproachable that he made her shiver.

“Your suitcases have already been packed.” He glanced down at his watch. “I imagine they’ve been delivered, as well.”

An icy tendril of fear coiled around her heart. “Delivered? Where would they be delivered? I’m off to Capri in the morning, and I will need my things tonight.”

“I’m afraid the plan has changed, cara.” His storm cloud eyes were piercing as they caught hers and held them. “We are going to Castello di Casari.”

Her pulse beat loudly in her ears. “I can’t go with you,” she said. “People are expecting me.”

“No,” he said smoothly, tapping the screen of his phone. “They are not. You are on your own right now, Valentina. Renzo and the lovely Faith are in the Caribbean and your mother is sailing around Bora-Bora.”

Tina stiffened. “While that is certainly true, I do have friends. And they are expecting me.” Acquaintances, more like, and they were not expecting her so much as expecting a call from her if she wanted to get together.

Which she typically did not. She was happiest on her own. She’d always been a bit of a loner, and she’d never yet outgrown it. It was part of the reason she liked math and numbers so much. When she was in her head, solving problems, she didn’t have to deal with the outside world.

“Then you will call and inform them your plans have changed.”

“And for how long should I say I am delayed?” she asked tightly, knowing she was not going anywhere tonight that he did not want her to go.

There was ice in his smile. “Indefinitely.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CASTELLO di Casari was far more than an ancient family fortress. It was impenetrable. Nico surveyed the castle rising out of the sheer rock in the middle of Lago di Casari and felt the overwhelming sensation of loneliness and despair that he’d always felt when returning here.

The castle had been modernized over the years, so that its medieval character remained but every modern comfort was provided for. Nico had not been here since his father’s death just over a month ago. Why he’d thought to return here now, he wasn’t quite certain.

Until he glanced over at the woman sitting stiffly beside him in the helicopter. Yes, it was an excellent place to stash an uncooperative female. He could hardly credit that the woman with the riotous hair and lush mouth was little Valentina D’Angeli, but his brain was becoming more accustomed to the fact by the minute.

Just as it was becoming accustomed to the fact she was pregnant with his child.

Until this afternoon, he would have stated it was impossible, but he’d been thinking back to that night and remembering what he’d done differently with her. He had used a condom, it was true, but he remembered it had torn as he had removed it. Now he wondered if it might have torn earlier and he’d only noticed as the tear grew.

Regardless, she was here and she was pregnant. And he wasn’t letting her go, because if he did, he had no illusions that her brother would do everything in his power to keep Nico from the child.

And Nico wasn’t allowing that to happen. He kept what was his.

The helicopter sank onto the landing pad and the rotors slowed. A man bent over and approached the craft. Then the door opened and Giuseppe’s smiling face was there.

“My lord, we are overjoyed that you have come,” the majordomo said.

“It’s good to see you again, Giuseppe,” Nico replied, descending from the helicopter and turning to assist Valentina.

Giuseppe was a short man, not quite five foot five inches tall, and he tilted his head back to look up at Nico. “I am sorry about your father, my lord. We were all saddened by the marchese’s death.”

Nico clapped the other man on the shoulder. He didn’t feel anything inside, hadn’t since he’d gotten the news, but he knew he was expected to show emotion over his father’s death. It was the correct thing to do regardless that his father had done nearly everything he could in life to alienate his only son.

“Thank you, Giuseppe. He lived life as he wanted to, sì? He died as he lived, and I am sure he is at peace.”

Giuseppe’s old eyes were suspiciously watery. “Sì, sì.”

A couple of staff members came forward to collect the luggage as Nico threaded his fingers into Valentina’s and brought her to his side. She didn’t resist, though he could feel her stiffening as her soft body came into contact with his.

“This is Signorina D’Angeli,” Nico said. “She will be staying with us for a while.”

Giuseppe didn’t betray by word or expression that he understood the significance of Valentina’s name, but Nico didn’t doubt for a moment that the older man did. Giuseppe followed the motorcycle Grand Prix circuit and would certainly know the famous name. He would never ask questions, however.

“Signorina,” he said, bowing over her hand in a courtly gesture. “Welcome to Castello di Casari.”

“Thank you,” Valentina replied without a trace of the stiffness that Nico could feel in her. He had to admire her ability to appear as if she actually wanted to be here. Giuseppe was none the wiser as she smiled at him graciously.

“We will need a meal in an hour or so,” Nico said. “Can you do this, Giuseppe?”

The man dragged his attention back to Nico with some reluctance. “Sì, my lord. The chef has been busy since we received the news of your impending arrival.”

“Excellent. Please have it served on the terrazzo.”

“Sì, my lord.”

With another smile at Valentina, Giuseppe went off to oversee the staff. Nico still had her hand captured in his, and he led her across the gray helipad and down the stairs to a door, which was a side entrance to the castle.

“I’m sorry about your father,” she said as they entered the modern glass-and-chrome room that his father had built as a waiting room for the helicopter. “I should have said that earlier.”

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