Page 17 of A Baby Scandal in Italy

For some unfathomable reason, Rafa felt reluctant to release her fingers from his grasp. He turned her hand over and saw that she had a small tattoo of an orange butterfly on the inside of her wrist. ‘Why a butterfly?’

‘My sister loved butterflies. She believed they are a sign of hope.’ Ivy gave a soft sigh. ‘After she died, I often saw an orange butterfly on the bush outside our flat and I felt it was a sign that Gemma would always be nearby.’ Her voice faltered. ‘You probably think I’m silly.’

‘You must have loved your sister very much to have taken on her baby without any help from the rest of your family.’

Just when he’d thought he had worked Ivy out, she confounded him again. He was taken aback by the selflessness that was in stark contrast to Tiffany’s self-serving behaviour throughout their marriage.

‘Gem was the best sister anyone could have. She took care of me when my mum was too wrapped up in her own life. Gemma’s mother died when she was very young, and our father wasn’t the best parent, to be honest. Gemma was drawn to older men. I think she’d wished she could meet someone who would look after her.’ Ivy bit her lip. ‘If she did meet your father on the cruise ship, I’m sure Gemma would not have known that he was married.’

‘I find it hard to believe that my father betrayed my mother and perhaps was not honest with your sister,’ Rafa admitted. He had admired his father more than anyone in the world but, as had happened with Tiffany, his faith and trust had been shattered by the realisation that Bertie must be his father’s child. There was no other logical explanation.

There would be long-term consequences, he brooded. Ivy was the baby’s legal guardian, but it was only fair for him to become involved in his half-brother’s upbringing. He intended to end his fake engagement to Ivy once the media lost interest in the baby scandal, but Bertie would be a permanent link between them. Rafa was not sure how he felt about that. He had started by despising Ivy, but he could not deny that he desired her and, now he knew a little more about her, he found he admired her devotion to her sister’s baby.

He called the courier to collect the case of rings and arranged for the jeweller to resize the yellow diamond ring to fit Ivy’s slim finger and return it later that evening. The maid brought in a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. ‘Would you like some champagne?’ Rafa asked Ivy when they were alone again.

‘Just fruit juice, please. I never drink alcohol.’

‘It’s as well I found that out before our engagement party. We had better run through a few facts about each other and concoct a story of where we met and fell in love,’ he said drily. ‘People are bound to ask. Whereabouts in England are you from?’

‘Southampton, on the south coast.’

‘I am aware of where it is, but I have not been there. I know London fairly well and have visited many of the best clubs in Mayfair. We could pretend that we were introduced at a club.’

Ivy’s laughter was sweetly melodious. It was the first time Rafa had heard her laugh and it could easily be addictive. ‘I’ve been to London a few times, but never to the upmarket nightspots where billionaires hang out. The chances that we could have met in a swanky club are zero. Besides, for it to be believable that Bertie is our child, we will need to pretend that we were together thirteen months ago. I was working as a dancer aboard theOcean Princesson a cruise from Bali to Singapore.’

‘It so happens that I was in Singapore around the same time. From my hotel balcony, I could see the ships that were docked in the cruise terminal.’

‘Did you stay at the Excelsior Hotel?’ When Rafa nodded, Ivy said, ‘I remember it was a friend’s birthday and we went ashore and had afternoon tea at the Excelsior. Do you realise that we could have actually met in Singapore? I believe in fate. Do you?’

‘I believe in coincidence. I also believe in meeting problems head on and taking decisive action to deal with them, which is what we are about to do now.’ Rafa picked up Ivy’s pashmina from the chair and handed it to her. ‘Well, that makes a perfectly plausible back story, then. Now, it’s show time,mia cara fidanzata.’

The hotel’s grand ballroom thronged with guests, all of whom Ivy had never met before. ‘How do you know these people?’ she asked Rafa. ‘You must be very popular with your friends for so many of them to have come to a party that was arranged at short notice.’

He lifted his brows in that way of his that made her feel she did not belong in his rarefied world of the super-rich. ‘Some of the guests are my friends, but most are business associates. Deals that are signed off in the boardroom are often the result of networking and bargaining over the buffet table at social events. Besides, everyone is curious to see my future wife, who they have been led to believe by the media is the mother of my son,’ he said sardonically.

Rafa’s hint that he still believed Ivy had been responsible for the news story was hurtful, but it also stirred her temper, so that she forgot her nervousness when he introduced her to a blur of people whose names and faces she doubted she would remember. Many of the guests spoke English, but they were too polite to be openly curious about her, and Rafa smoothly answered any questions about their relationship without actually revealing very much.

Ivy was intensely aware of his presence by her side and the weight of his arm around her waist burned through her dress. She reminded herself that his charm offensive and the attention he was paying her were part of the show they were putting on of a couple who were madly in love.

He had said they would have to continue the pretence of their engagement for a couple of months. It suddenly seemed a terrifyingly long time until she would be free to return to her old life. A life that had changed beyond recognition when she’d become a single parent to her sister’s baby.

Rafa had an unsettling effect on her. She was nearly twenty-five and still a virgin, for heaven’s sake. It had never bothered Ivy before. But now she had a sense that the life she had nearly lost when she’d been a teenager and had fought so hard for was passing her by. She’d never wanted sex for the sake of it, but she had decided long ago that she did not want to get married. She was not going to chase the impossible dream of happy ever after, which was what her mum had spent her life doing. But it meant that she was in a curious limbo and, to further complicate things, her response to Rafa’s kisses had revealed her sensuality that she longed to explore with him.

Rafa was chatting to an elderly man called Carlo, who apparently owned a bank. Ivy glanced around the ballroom at the well-heeled guests sipping champagne and nibbling on exquisite canapés served by white-jacketed waiters. It felt a million miles away from her rented flat in Southampton that was damp in the winter and cost a fortune to heat.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a new place to live while she and Bertie were in Italy. If the extended paternity test proved that Bertie was indeed Rafa’s father’s child, Ivy was determined to seek financial support for the baby. She was realistic enough to know that, however much she loved her half-nephew, she couldn’t give him the privileges of wealth such as a private education and a comfortable home that, as a member of the affluent Vieri family, should be Bertie’s birth right.

She hoped Bertie would be happy with the nanny. She had liked Anna immediately, and felt reassured by how warm and caring she’d been with Bertie. Anna had been given a private suite of rooms next to the penthouse and had arranged for the baby’s cot to be moved into her bedroom for the night. It was the first time since Gemma had died that Ivy had spent more than an hour apart from Bertie, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t rocked him to sleep, but Anna had sent her a couple of texts to reassure her that he had settled happily.

She came out of her thoughts when she realised that Rafa’s companion was looking at her. ‘I almost did not recognise you tonight, Miss Bennett,’ the man called Carlo told her. ‘I was in the boardroom of Vieri Azioni when you arrived a few days ago and caused quite a stir.’

Ivy had not noticed him among the grey-suited businessmen who had stared at her when she’d burst into the boardroom. ‘I only had eyes for Rafa,’ she said truthfully, blushing when she realised how gauche she sounded.

The older man laughed and patted Rafa’s arm. ‘I am glad that you and your delightful fiancée were able to resolve your problems. When do you plan to marry?’

‘Soon,’ Rafa replied smoothly, tightening his arm around Ivy’s waist when she gave a start of surprise. ‘I am impatient to make Ivy my wife. But there is something I must do first.’

‘What’s happening?’ she muttered as he steered her away from Carlo and moved towards the dais at one end of the room. As they mounted the steps, the band stopped playing and the bright overhead lights came on. Ivy was a professional dancer, and was used to being on a stage in front of an audience, but when she saw the mass of curious faces staring at her she wished she could disappear.

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