Untouched Until Marriage Page 4

  ‘I agree.’ For a moment Raul forgot the anger and frustration that had simmered inside him since he had read Pietro’s will, forgot that the woman at his side had been his father’s mistress who now had the right to live at the villa. This was his home and he loved it.

  His ex-wife had accused him of caring more about the house than he had about her—particularly when he had refused to move permanently to New York. By then his marriage to Dana had been in its death throes and he hadn’t denied it. When they had separated he’d offered her the Manhattan apartment, believing that she would not make a claim on the villa.

  How wrong he had been, Raul thought bitterly. Dana had proved to be an avaricious gold-digger. Their divorce had made legal history when she had won a record alimony settlement after only a year of marriage. But although it had cost him a fortune he had at least forced her to relinquish her claim on the Villa Giulietta, and the experience had taught him that marriage was a fool’s game which he had no intention of ever repeating.

  As the car drew to a halt, a woman appeared at the top of the steps and watched them alight. Libby guessed her to be in her mid-sixties; whippet-thin and elegantly dressed, she did not move forward to greet them but waited imperiously for Raul to come to her.

  ‘My aunt Carmina,’ Raul murmured to Libby, before he strode up the steps.

  ‘Zia Carmina.’ He stifled his impatience as he took his aunt’s hand and lifted it briefly to his lips. She was his mother’s sister, he reminded himself. His father had been fond of her and had often invited her to stay at the villa. Raul knew that Carmina had had been deeply upset by Pietro’s death, but she seemed determined to ignore his gentle hints that she might like to return to her house in Rome, and his sympathy was wearing thin.

  Gino had woken when the car had stopped moving, and he gave Libby a gummy grin when she lifted him out of his seat. Feeling overawed by the magnificent house, she hovered uncertainly at the bottom of the steps, her heart sinking when Raul’s aunt subjected her to a haughty stare that grew gradually more incredulous.

  ‘Who is this woman?’ Carmina demanded in Italian.

  Raul gestured for Libby to join him. ‘This is Elizabeth Maynard,’ he replied in English. ‘She was my father’s…’ He hesitated, conscious of the scandalised expression on Zia Carmina’s face as she raked her eyes over Libby’s wild red curls and garishly coloured clothes. For some reason he was reluctant to refer to Libby as Pietro’s mistress, but his aunt had transferred her gaze to Gino and she threw up her hands in a gesture of disgust.

  ‘This girl was my brother-in-law’s mistress?’ Again she spoke in voluble Italian. ‘She looks so common. What was Pietro thinking? He must have been out of his mind to have invited his puttana to live at the Villa Giulietta.’

  Raul had felt exactly the same sentiments, but now he felt a shaft of annoyance with his aunt for her rudeness, and was glad that Libby could not understand what she had said. ‘My father was entitled to do as he wished, and he made it clear that he wished for his…companion and his infant son to live here,’ he reminded the older woman coolly.

  ‘Pah!’ Carmina made no attempt to greet Libby, and after giving her another disdainful glance swung round and swept back into the house.

  Libby watched her go and hugged Gino to her, startled to find that her hands were shaking. She hadn’t followed any of the lightning-fast exchange between Raul and his aunt, but the older woman’s sentiments had been plain. Puttana probably meant something vile, she brooded as she recalled how Carina had practically spat the word at her.

  Once again she questioned her sanity in pretending to be Gino’s mother. Perhaps the Carducci family would be more prepared to accept her if she explained that Pietro had not been her sugar-daddy? But if Raul learned that she had no right to remain at the villa he might order his chauffeur to drive her straight back to the airport.

  He could not physically snatch Gino from her, she assured herself, automatically tightening her hold on the baby. But this was a man who travelled by private jet and lived in a villa that looked like a palace. His wealth and the power he commanded were undeniable, and she was sure that if he decided to fight for custody of Gino he would win.

  The baby was heavy, and she transferred him to her other hip. ‘Here—let me take him,’ Raul offered, holding out his hands.

  ‘No!’ She gripped Gino convulsively, blushing when Raul frowned. ‘Thanks, but he doesn’t really know you, and I don’t want to unsettle him while he’s getting used to a strange house,’ she muttered.

  Raul stared at her speculatively. ‘I’m sure he’ll soon get used to me—and the house.’

  He wondered why Libby seemed so nervous. Most women he knew would be unable to conceal their delight at the prospect of living at the villa with all expenses paid, but she looked as though she had been sentenced to a term in jail. She made an incongruous sight in her purple boots and skirt, green tights and orange coat, but nothing could detract from the loveliness of her face. His eyes focused on her soft mouth, and he could not banish the image of covering her lips with his own in a long, leisurely tasting.

  Dio, she was a witch, he thought furiously as he moved abruptly away from her. ‘Follow me. I’ll show you to your rooms,’ he ordered curtly.

  Wordlessly Libby trailed after him, her misgivings increasing as she stepped into the hall and stared around at the marble floors and pillars and the exquisite murals which adorned the walls and ceiling. Rays of early evening sunlight slanted through the windows and danced across the stunning crystal chandelier suspended from the centre of the room. She would have liked to linger and study the beautiful bronze sculptures dotted around the hallway, but Raul was striding ahead and she had to race to keep up with him.

  He led the way along endless corridors, past elegant, airy rooms filled with antique furniture. She could easily spend the rest of her life lost in these corridors, Libby fretted as she followed him up yet another flight of stairs. Raul suddenly stopped and pushed open a door, before standing back to usher her into a suite of rooms that comprised a sitting room, small dining area and an adjoining bedroom.

  ‘I have arranged for this room to be the nursery,’ he told Libby, opening another door into a smaller room which had been decorated in soft yellow. The stripped-pine cot and nursery furniture were attractive, and the pale blue striped curtains and matching rug on the floor added to the ambience of the room.

  Libby set Gino down on the floor and he immediately crawled over to the box of brightly coloured toys in the corner. Raul watched him for a few moments before commenting, ‘He doesn’t seem too unsettled, does he? The nanny has the room next door to this one, by the way,’ he added casually.

  Libby stared at him. ‘What nanny?’

  ‘The one I have hired to help take care of Gino. She comes from the best agency in Italy and is highly recommended.’

  ‘I don’t care if she’s Mother Teresa.’ Fear sharpened Libby’s voice. She did not want anyone to take her place in Gino’s life. ‘You can just un-hire her,’ she snapped. ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after him myself.’

  Raul’s brows rose in an expression of haughty disdain. ‘From what I saw of your flat in Pennmar, I disagree. It was a filthy hovel.’

  Outraged by his description of her former home, Libby felt her temper explode. ‘It was not filthy. I was always cleaning, and scrubbing the mildew off the walls. It’s not my fault the flat was so damp.’

  ‘The living room looked like a pigsty,’ Raul insisted coldly.

  ‘That was only because I’d had to move all my things out of my bedroom when it flooded—’ Libby broke off at the sound of a knock on the door and stared suspiciously at the dark-haired woman who entered the room.

  ‘Ah, Silvana.’ Raul stepped forward to greet the woman. ‘I’d like to introduce you to your new charge.’ He scooped Gino into his arms, and to Libby’s annoyance the baby chuckled happily and explored Raul’s face with his hand. ‘This is Gino.’ Raul paused, and then
as an obvious afterthought added, ‘Oh—and his mother, Ms Maynard.’

  Silvana gave Libby a cheerful smile and immediately turned her attention to Gino. ‘What a gorgeous little boy,’ she said in perfect English, and then in Italian, ‘Sei un bel bambino, Gino.’

  ‘He doesn’t understand Italian,’ Libby said tightly, wishing that Gino had yelled when the nanny had spoken to him. But he seemed quite content in Raul’s arms, and was giving Silvana his most winsome smile—the smile he usually only gave her, Libby thought dismally.

  ‘Silvana is fluent in English and Italian, and she will talk to Gino in both languages so that he will grow up bilingual,’ Raul informed Libby coolly. ‘Italy is his home now, and obviously he will need to be fluent in his native tongue—don’t you agree?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Libby muttered. Of course Gino would need to be able to speak Italian, she just hadn’t thought of it, and she was irritated that Raul was one step ahead. ‘I’ll have to learn too. I picked up Spanish fairly easily, so I guess Italian won’t be too hard.’

  ‘Did you learn Spanish at school?’ Raul asked curiously.

  ‘No…’ Libby did not want to admit that she’d received no formal schooling until she and her mum had left Ibiza and returned to live in London, or that her attendance at the local comprehensive had been sketchy and she had learned very little. ‘I spent part of my childhood in Ibiza and learned to speak Spanish there.’

  She frowned when Raul gave Gino to the nanny, surprised that the baby did not remonstrate at being handed to a stranger. He was obviously growing out of his clingy stage, and it was selfish to wish that he only wanted her, she told herself firmly.

  ‘Would you like me to give Gino his tea and a bath?’ Silvana asked.

  Libby opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it when she noticed Raul’s steely expression. When he opened the door and ushered her into the adjoining room she stalked past him, and as soon as they were out of earshot of Silvana she rounded on him.

  ‘I can’t stop you employing a nanny, but you’re wasting your money—because I am Gino’s mother and I will be his full-time carer, just as I have always been.’

  Raul was surprised by her fierceness. He had convinced himself that Libby had deliberately conceived Pietro’s child in the hope of claiming a huge maintenance allowance, and had assumed that she would be more than happy to hand over responsibility for her baby. But during the flight to Italy he had been struck by her devotion to Gino and her obvious love for him. ‘You can’t have cared for him entirely on your own in England when you had the shop to run,’ he pointed out. ‘You say you are an artist, but looking after a baby can’t have given you much time to paint.’

  Libby shrugged. ‘I used to take him down to the shop with me. And I painted whenever Gino had a nap. But I’ve pretty much given up my artwork since…’ She had been about to say since Mum had Gino, but quickly changed that to, ‘Since Gino was born.’

  Raul thought of the bold, beautiful paintings he had seen at her flat. ‘That must have been hard—to give up something you love?’

  Libby slipped off her coat and brushed her tangled red curls back from her face. ‘Not really. Gino comes first. I love him more than anything,’ she said fiercely.

  Raul compressed his lips and walked over to the window, needing to look anywhere but at Libby. Now that she had removed her coat his eyes once again seemed to have a magnetic attraction to her breasts. He was bitterly aware that his body had been in a state of arousal ever since her soft curves had squashed up against him in the car. She was so intense; he brooded, so colourful and fizzing with energy. Had it been her energy and her fiery passion that had attracted his father to her? He pushed the thought away. He could not bear to think about her and Pietro as lovers…Not when he wanted her himself, whispered a sly little voice in his head.

  Incensed by his own weakness, he swung round to face her. ‘Like it or not, there will be occasions when you will have to leave Gino with Silvana. You cannot take him to board meetings,’ he pointed out when she looked mutinous.

  Libby frowned. ‘I won’t be going to any board meetings…will I?’ she asked uncertainly.

  ‘As I have explained, my father has left a fifty percent share of Carducci Cosmetics to Gino. But until he is eighteen you have control of his share of the company, and it will be necessary for you to attend meetings with the board of directors.’

  ‘I see.’ Libby chewed on her bottom lip, horrified at the prospect of discussing business matters with the board members of Carducci Cosmetics, who would no doubt look down their noses at her just as Raul was doing now. ‘I don’t really know a lot about running a company,’ she admitted.

  ‘That much was obvious from the precarious financial state of your shop,’ Raul said scathingly. ‘Do not fear. You won’t have to do anything apart from sign your name where I tell you to.’

  Libby glared at him resentfully, infuriated by his implication that she had mismanaged the shop when she had worked so hard to make Nature’s Way a success. ‘I suppose I’ll have to leave Gino with the nanny while I attend meetings,’ she conceded grudgingly. ‘At least Silvana seems pleasant—unlike your aunt.’ She grimaced as she recalled Raul’s aunt’s haughty disdain. Her careless tongue ran away with her and she added, ‘She’s a miserable old bat.’

  Privately, Raul shared Libby’s opinion of his aunt. But Carmina was a member of his family, his beloved mother’s sister, while Libby had been his father’s mistress—a cheap little gold-digger. ‘I will not tolerate you speaking about any member of my family so disrespectfully,’ he snapped. ‘You are here because my father wished it, but I suggest you remember your place.’

  His arrogance ignited Libby’s temper like a match to dry tinder. ‘What exactly is my place?’ she demanded, throwing back her head so that her flame-coloured curls danced around her face. ‘Your precious aunt looked at me as if I had crawled out of the gutter. And what does puttana mean, by the way? Maybe I’ll ask Silvana to translate for me.’

  Raul glared at her furiously. Never in his life had anyone challenged his authority or spoken to him in such a way as Libby had. He was tempted to grab hold of her and bring his mouth down on hers in a punishing kiss that would shut her up. His nostrils flared as he struggled to control his temper, but his eyes were as cold as chips of granite as he met her gaze. ‘It means whore,’ he said grimly.

  ‘Oh.’ Libby’s temper deflated like a popped balloon and she felt sick inside. She had been under no illusion that she would be welcomed at the Villa Giulietta. Raul must have been shocked to learn that he was not his father’s sole heir, and he clearly resented her, believing as he did that she had been Pietro’s mistress. He had accused her of being a gold-digger who had targeted a much older, wealthy man—but a whore! ‘That’s horrible,’ she muttered, tears filling her eyes.

  Dio! Libby was a brilliant actress, Raul brooded, infuriated by the pang of guilt that gripped him when he saw her lower lip tremble. She looked so hurt and so achingly vulnerable, but in his experience most women were manipulative, and he was convinced that she was no different.

  ‘Zia Carmina was my mother’s sister. After Eleanora’s death she remained close to my father,’ he explained harshly. ‘You must understand that my aunt was deeply shocked to learn that her brother-in-law, whom she loved and respected, had had a secret mistress and a child.’ He frowned. ‘You are so young. Dio, Pietro was old enough to have been your grandfather. It is not surprising that Carmina finds your presence here difficult when she is still grieving for my father.’

  ‘Grief doesn’t give a person licence to be nasty,’ Libby said, rounding on him. ‘I’m grieving too.’ The pain of losing her mum was still raw. During the day she had to be strong for Gino, but most nights she still cried for Liz. ‘These past few months have been the worst of my life,’ she told Raul thickly.

  Surely Libby was faking the emotion that throbbed in her voice? She could not really be as devastated by his father’s death a
s she appeared? Raul stared at her in frustration, not knowing what to make of her. Before he had met her he had pigeonholed her as a brash tart devoid of any scruples. But Libby was nothing like he had imagined. If she were to be believed, it seemed that she had genuinely cared for Pietro. But why had such a beautiful young woman been attracted to a man forty years older than her if it hadn’t been for his money? he asked himself angrily.

  Raul tore his gaze from Libby, feeling a sudden need to get away from her. It would have been so much easier if she had been a hard-as-nails bimbo, he thought savagely. He wanted to despise her, but every time he looked at her he was consumed with a burning sexual hunger that shamed him.

  He crossed the room and flipped open a briefcase sitting on the coffee table. ‘It has been a long day, and I am sure you want to settle in. Your bag has been brought up from the car and the rest of your things at the flat will be packed up and sent on in a few days.’ He lifted a sheaf of documents from the case and glanced at her. ‘I need you to sign a few papers.’

  ‘What are they?’ Libby stared warily at the pile of printed documents, her heart sinking when she realised that Raul intended to wait while she read them.

  ‘They relate to various decisions I have made regarding Carducci Cosmetics.’ Raul flicked casually through the papers. ‘This file gives details of a merger with a Swedish skincare company that I want to proceed with as soon as possible, and this document is to authorise the transfer of funds to one of CC’s subsidiary companies in the US. I simply require you to sign your name—you don’t have to read them.’

  Libby frowned. ‘How can I sign them when I don’t know what I’m signing?

  Irritation swept through Raul when she sat down, switched on the table-lamp, and picked up the first document from the pile. ‘This is pointless,’ he said grittily, noting how the lamplight turned her hair to spun gold. ‘You said yourself you know nothing about running a company. I have no idea why my father stipulated that you should have control of Gino’s shares,’ he burst out, his frustration tangible. ‘When Pietro died I expected to take full control of Carducci Cosmetics, but for the past eight months CC has been in a state of limbo. I couldn’t find you, and because you control fifty percent of the company I have been unable to do more than keep the company ticking over.’ He took a deep breath, calming himself. ‘I’m not asking you to take a crash course in business management,’ he informed Libby curtly. ‘You can save us both a lot of time if you just add your signature to the bottom of each document.’