Page 16 of A Baby Scandal in Italy

Rafa frowned as he remembered Ivy’s agonised expression when she’d placed Bertie in the nanny’s arms before going shopping.

‘I’ve never left him before,’ she’d said in a choked voice.

‘I will take good care of the baby,’ Anna had reassured her. ‘If I have any concerns about Bertie, I’ll call you.’ The nanny spoke fluent English, and Ivy had relaxed a little, although she had slunk out of the penthouse like a lamb being led to the slaughter, instead of looking excited at the prospect of choosing new clothes that she didn’t have to pay for.

Most women, in Rafa’s experience, did not have a problem spending his money. He could not figure Ivy out, and he was perplexed that she had the ability to turn him on so hard and so fast that his control was threatened. It had never happened to him before, not even with his ex-wife. The truth was, he’d convinced himself that the hot lust he’d felt for Tiffany was love, and he had married her without suspecting that the baby she’d been expecting was not his.

There was no danger that his attraction to Ivy was anything more than a physical response to her fragile beauty, which coincided with a dry spell in his sex life, Rafa assured himself. When he had kissed her in his study the previous day, her ardent response had blown him away, and he’d had to force himself to pull back before the situation had got out of hand. Ivy’s initial shyness had given way to a fierce, yet touchingly clumsy passion, reminding him that she’d said she had never had a lover.

It seemed highly unlikely for a woman in her mid-twenties still to be a virgin. But he’d been disturbed by the effect that Ivy had on him, and he’d needed to put some distance between them. He’d spent the evening propping up a bar and had accepted an offer from Matteo, an old school friend, to sleep in his guest room for the night.

That morning, when Rafa had returned to the penthouse, he had wondered if Ivy had taken baby Bertie and fled back to England. He had half expected her to, and if he was honest he’d half-hoped she would have disappeared. He did not know where in England she lived, and it would have given him an excuse not to look for her.

Admittedly, he would have had to think of an explanation about the son he had allegedly fathered for the press and the board members who wanted to replace him. But he would have forgotten Ivy in a week or two. He’d never allowed a woman to have any kind of hold over him. However, the baby was another matter. Rafa was still struggling to comprehend that Bertie could be his half-brother, with the implication that his father, whom he had put on a pedestal, had betrayed his mother.

A faint sound from behind him pulled Rafa from his troubled thoughts. He took a long sip of whisky before he slowly turned around. He was in control, right?

Wrong! He swept his gaze over Ivy and his body tensed as desire ripped through him. Why had he thought she would choose an elegant and demure gown? Some hope!

She was wearing the ubiquitous little black dress, with emphasis onlittle. The sequin-covered dress moulded her slim figure and drew attention to her tiny waist and the gentle curve of her hips, while the low-cut neckline pushed her small breasts high. The creamy mounds would fit into his palms perfectly, and Rafa ached to explore the sweet valley of her cleavage with his lips.Dio, how he ached.

He forced his gaze away from temptation and felt a flicker of surprise when Ivy moved into the pool of light cast by the balcony lamps and he saw that her hair was no longer bright pink but a subtle shade of pale blonde. ‘Why did you change your hair?’

‘This is my natural colour.’ She self-consciously ran her fingers through the feathery blonde layers. ‘The stylist at the salon stripped out the pink dye.’

Rafa did not know if it was her blonde hair or the fact that Ivy was wearing make-up, making her eyes seem even bigger and her lips even more lush, with a coating of scarlet gloss, that was responsible for turning her into a sex-bomb. All he knew was that he wanted to forget the damned party, sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the nearest flat surface so that he could slake his hunger for her in the most basic way that a man and a woman could communicate. Ivy made him feel like a teenager on a first date, and he resented that she was tying him in knots.

Perhaps she was unnerved by his brooding silence or by the prickling tension that was almost tangible. ‘The personal stylist suggested I should wear a full-length gown to the party. But I didn’t feel comfortable in a long dress, so I decided on...um...a short one.’

‘So I see,’ he said drily. The hem of the sparkly dress stopped above her mid-thighs, revealing her slender legs in sheer black stockings and sexy, strappy, high-heeled shoes. He would like to have had her long legs wrapped around his hips. Rafa’s jaw tensed as he tried to dismiss the erotic images that had stormed uninvited into his head. ‘The dress is fine,’ he said brusquely. ‘You look charming.’

He immediately regretted his offhand compliment when Ivy’s face fell. There was a curious naivety about her, and she was ridiculously easy to read. He realised that she had wanted his approval, and perhaps his admiration, but he’d been so intent on hiding his reaction to how amazing she looked that he had hurt her feelings. Why that should bother him, Rafa had no idea. He wanted to believe that she had her own agenda for bringing her sister’s baby to him. She’d said that she wanted him to set up a trust fund for Bertie that she would control. It was impossible that she was as innocent and unworldly as she seemed.

Ivy returned to the lounge and Rafa followed her inside. He put his hand on her arm and led her over to the table, where there was a leather case. ‘I arranged for a jewellery company to deliver a selection of engagement rings so that you can choose one,’ he explained as he unlocked the case to reveal its dazzling contents.

‘Is it really necessary for me to wear a ring?’

‘Of course. Our engagement needs to be convincing. It will be best if you choose the flashiest, most noticeable ring so that no one is in any doubt of my devotion to you.’ Rafa realised how cynical he had sounded when Ivy’s brown eyes widened.

‘It’s incredible how realistic imitation jewellery looks,’ she said as she picked up a huge sapphire surrounded by diamonds.

‘They are not imitation. The gemstones are real.’ Rafa caught the sapphire ring when Ivy dropped it as if it had burned her. He captured her hand and felt a tremor run through her as he slid the ring onto her finger.

‘It must be worth a fortune.’ She sounded horrified. ‘What if I lose the ring? It would take me a million years to pay for it.’

‘The size of the band can be altered.’ The ring was much too big on Ivy’s finger and the large stone did not suit her small hand. ‘Try a different one.’ Rafa wondered if her reluctance to choose a ring was an act intended to convince him that she wasn’t a gold-digger. ‘I hope you will look happier when we are at the party. You are supposed to be madly in love with me.’

‘That will never happen,’ she told him seriously.

Rafa decided it was good that Ivy was not spinning any romantic dreams their fake engagement might become real. In fact, she seemed to dislike him, and he felt oddly hurt. He was not a monster, but she had accused him of fathering her sister’s baby, and he was determined to discover the truth.

He looked down at the precious gems glittering against the black velvet cushion. He’d asked the jeweller to send a mix of contemporary and traditional designs, and the rings were set with stunning emeralds, exquisite sapphires and blood-red rubies, but none of them suited Ivy.

‘What about this one?’ He hadn’t planned to get involved. A ring was only to make their engagement realistic. But a square, yellow diamond with two smaller white diamonds on either side of the centre stone caught his attention. The yellow diamond emitted sparks of fire when it caught the light, reminding him of the golden flecks in Ivy’s eyes.

Rafa took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. As he’d guessed, the delicate design was perfect for her.

‘It’s not flashy, but it is very beautiful.’ Ivy smiled as she studied the ring.

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