Page 1 of Italian Baby Shock

CHAPTER ONE

HERPHONEVIBRATEDyet again but Lark Edwards tried not to look at it. It was nothing. Maya had a little cold, that was all. It wasn’t life-threatening. It didn’t require hospitalisation. The nanny who was looking after her for the night held qualifications in child health and was more than capable of looking after a fifteen-month-old with the sniffles.

If anything was gravely wrong, she’d contact Lark immediately, she’d promised.

Lark’s fingers closed tightly around the phone.

She always tried to look on the bright side of things and stay positive, but perhaps therewassomething gravely wrong. Perhaps that’s why her phone was vibrating. Perhaps Maya had suddenly become very ill and the nanny was trying to contact her to tell her.

Lark took a breath, calmed her racing heartbeat and gave herself a mental slap.

No. It was fine. She was only wound up because this was the first time she’d been away from Maya longer than a day. Mr Ravenswood, her boss, who owned Ravenswood Antiques, one of London’s most exclusive antique businesses, had taken ill with the flu and hadn’t been able to travel, so he’d asked Lark to go to Italy in his stead.

It was a very important assignment, he’d said, and it was vital someone from Ravenswood go. And since she was the only one who was free, it had to be her. She didn’t have his knowledge of antiques since she was only his personal assistant, not to mention only being in the job a year, but he’d been giving her some basic training in the business for the past six months, andshe was at least a little familiar with Italy, having been there once before. Also, all she’d have do, he’d assured her, was to view the pieces that the Donati family were wanting to sell to ascertain they were genuine—he’d told her what to look for—and to take as many pictures as she could.

It would have been easier for someone on the Donati end to send the pictures without the need to travel, but Mr Ravenswood had been adamant that someone had to view the items personally. Also, they were to speak to Signor Donati himself, since Ravenswood Antiques prided themselves on the personal touch. Mr Ravenswood had been very upset about the illness that had prevented him from flying to Rome. Then again, he couldn’t ask such an important and busy man such as Signor Donati to rearrange his schedule purely for the sake of an old antiques dealer.

Also, the Donati pieces were special and could earn the business a lot of money, and Mr Ravenswood didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardise the sale.

Lark had felt sorry for him. Jasper Ravenswood had given her a job just after Maya had been born and she’d been despairing of ever finding someone who’d employ a new mother. But he’d given her a position, and hadn’t complained when she’d had to bring Maya into the office. So it was only the right thing to do to agree to go to Rome, see the pieces and talk to Mr Donati herself.

Jasper had been so effusively thankful, he’d paid for the very expensive nanny to look after Maya, Lark’s daughter, for the night.

Lark took another calming breath.

Yes, it was only a night and Maya wasn’t a little baby any more. The nanny, Emily, had been lovely too. She just had to stay positive.

As if determined to ruffle her calm, her phone vibrated once again and this time Lark couldn’t resist having a quick look. But it was only a text from Mr Ravenswood wishing her good luck.

She smiled, typed in a quick thank you, then put the phone down on the overly gilded table in front of her, and forced herself to relax.

It could be just being in Italy again that was messing with her usually positive outlook, or maybe it was sitting on this beautiful velvet-covered couch—no doubt another antique worth thousands of euros—in this beautiful room, in the beautiful, centuries-old Donati palazzo just outside of Rome that was getting to her.

It wasn’t all that conducive to relaxation.

It definitelywasn’tbeing in Italy again. That night had been two years ago now, so if not thedistantpast, then very muchnotthe recent past. It had no bearing on the future and she certainly never thought of that night in particular, not if she could help it.

She always tried to stay positive.

Leaning against the stiff back of the sofa, Lark looked around the salon—or so the member of the Donatis’ house staff had called it, definitely not anything as common as a ‘lounge’—and it was huge. The rust-red silk-panelled walls looked as if they had been hand painted and were hung with huge paintings of battle scenes in gilt frames. There seemed to be a lot of gilt on the ornate plaster cornices too, as well as on the intricately painted ceiling.

The parquet on the floor was ancient and worn and covered with hand-knotted silk rugs, while the armchairs and couch she sat on were velvet covered and as gilded as the old and huge fireplace that Lark sat in front of. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and above the fireplace hung a massive portrait of two people in modern dress, which looked out of place with the rest of the room’s stately opulence. A handsome man with cold blueeyes stood beside a seated woman with beautiful red-gold curls. Neither of them looked particularly happy and it somehow made the room seem dark and vaguely oppressive. Though that could have been due to the heavy dark blue silk curtains partially concealing the windows.

Not a place to slump on the sofa with a tub of ice cream and a glass of wine while watching movies on one’s laptop, that was for sure. Which was exactly what she was going to do back at her hotel once she’d finished looking at the pieces Mr Ravenswood had wanted her to look at, taken the photos she’d been instructed to take and talked nice to whichever Donati family representative she was supposed to talk to.

Tomorrow she’d fly back to London and her daughter.

It was only a night, not a big deal.

She smoothed the fuchsia-pink skirt she wore and double-checked she hadn’t spilled anything on her blouse. It was new and patterned with roses that matched the fuchsia of her skirt, and she loved it—wearing bright and cheerful colours always made her feel good. Luckily, there were no incriminating stains, which surprised her since being the mother of a young child meant clothing got stained on a regular basis and usually in mysterious circumstances.

It wouldn’t do to appear untidy though, not today, not when she was here on behalf of Ravenswood Antiques. Mr Ravenswood had a certain reputation to uphold and she was determined to uphold it. He’d also been very clear that the Donatis weren’t just any old Italian family. They owned Donati Bank, a private banking company that had been founded around six hundred years earlier, while the family’s legacy went back even further. They were one of the oldest and most important families in Italy, their history and wealth equalling and even surpassing some of Europe’s royal families.

It wasn’t exactly a bright history, however.

Lark had done some research on the plane to Rome and the Donati family had been notorious in the Renaissance for all kinds of poisonings and stabbings. They’d had a thing for assassinations apparently, targeting anyone they viewed as a threat to their family. There wasn’t any of that nowadays, of course, but their reputation in the business world was still as ruthless as it had been back in the day. Mostly courtesy of Cesare Donati, the last Donati heir, who drove the business like a racing car driver on the track. Fast and hard and with an aim to win.

He was an imposing, almost mythical figure, with a head for money and a reach in the finance world that spanned the globe, Donati Bank having offices in all the major financial hubs. He advised governments, held the accounts of many global corporations, as well as the personal accounts of some of the wealthiest people in the world, and had a reputation for being as ruthless as the Donatis of old.

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