Seated on the floor in the nursery, Nicky was happily playing with his new toys. Carlotta was friendly, addressing Jemima in broken English to let her know that he had slept well and eaten. A maid met Jemima at the foot of the stairs to show her where she was to go to join Luciano. They trekked across the vast building, mounting stairs and crossing hallways before walking down a long picture gallery that opened to an outdoor area that overlooked the sea and the shore.
The panoramic view and the sunlight blinded her and she had a split-second sizzling snapshot of Luciano, rising with fluid grace from his seat, his lean, powerful body sheathed in an exquisitely cut pale grey suit teamed with a black shirt. ‘Buon giorno,’ he murmured smoothly. ‘You look amazing.’
Jemima flushed. ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ she told him reprovingly. ‘I’m wearing this because it’s so hot and I have nothing suitable and—’
‘Rest assured I will not assume that you are wearing it either to please or attract me, piccolo mia,’ Luciano incised as drily as though he could read her mind.
Her flushed cheeks turned a solid mortified red and she averted her eyes as she dropped down hurriedly into a seat. Dishes were proffered by one manservant, beverages by another. Her attention briefly falling on the bodyguards standing several yards away, it occurred to her that Luciano lived rather like a king in a medieval court with an army of staff and everyone bowing and scraping and doing their utmost to ensure his protection and his comfort. It was an isolated lifestyle, divorced from normality, and she wondered how it would affect Nicky to grow up like a crown prince in the lap of such indescribable luxury.
From below her lashes she stole a helpless glance at Luciano. He was looking out to sea, his flawless classic profile turned to her. Her heart thumped very loudly in her ears because she was remembering his mouth, that wide, sensually skilled mouth, roaming over her and making her writhe with raw need and then the dynamic flex and flow of his lithe body over hers, driving her to the apex of excitement. Perspiration broke out on her skin and she quickly looked away from him again. No, try as she might to be sensible, she could not forget the intimacy, the first she had ever known and, much like Luciano, utterly unforgettable.
‘So, what next?’ she muttered in the pulsing silence.
Lustrous dark golden eyes ensnared hers and her breath tripped in her throat. ‘That’s what we have to decide.’
Jemima tore her eyes free and bit into her fresh fruit. He was using the royal ‘we’; she didn’t think she would have much actual input into what happened next.
‘Tell me how your sister got hold of your passport,’ he invited, startling her with that request.
‘It happened by accident. The first time we met she showed me her passport because she had worn her hair long then too, and I got out mine and we were laughing and somehow our passports got mixed up.’
‘And?’ Luciano prompted.
‘Julie only realised she had my passport when she was flying out to Italy and she travelled on it because she didn’t want to miss her flight.’
‘She lied,’ Luciano murmured without any expression at all. ‘She had already used your passport in her application to be the surrogate I hired. And the reason she lied was that she had several criminal convictions in her own name. She probably tracked you down quite deliberately. She set you up to steal your identity, Jemima. Accept that.’
Jemima paled. She was remembering laughing with her sister as they compared unflattering passport photos. ‘It was months before I found out about the...er...exchange and when I contacted her about it, she said she’d give it back when she returned from Italy.’
‘Only she never did,’ Luciano completed.
‘Obviously you think I’m very stupid,’ Jemima said tartly, burning her mouth on an unwary sip of coffee and swallowing hard, burning her throat into the bargain, tears starting into her eyes at the discomfort.
‘No, I think you were scammed. She was a practised, confident trickster and she was your sister and you didn’t want to accept the truth,’ Luciano said in a surprisingly uncritical tone. ‘I can understand ignoring the evidence and wanting to believe the best of someone close to you. It happened to me once.’
‘Oh...’ Jemima was taken aback by that admission. ‘I loved her—I felt an immediate sense of connection with her.’
‘Scammers have to be attractive to pull people in.’
Jemima concentrated her attention warily on eating.
‘Why didn’t you go to the police about your passport when she refused to give it back?’
‘I didn’t need my passport because I couldn’t afford to travel at the time...and I didn’t want to get her into trouble. For a long time she made excuses about why she wasn’t returning it and I believed her,’ she admitted with a rueful roll of her eyes.
A manservant topped up Luciano’s black coffee. He rose lithely from his seat and lounged back against the stone balustrade girding the terrace. He surveyed her with satisfaction. She was elegant as a swan in the tailored blue sundress, her hair restrained in its usual braid, only stray little golden hairs catching the slight breeze round her troubled face. She had loved and cared for her sister, contriving to mourn Julie Marshall’s passing in spite of all the damage her sibling had done. Jemima had a lot of heart and a generosity of spirit that he admired even though he couldn’t emulate it. And he wanted what she had to offer for his son. He sensed that she could be the greatest gift he would ever give him.
For once he wasn’t going to be selfish and he wasn’t going to remind himself how often he had sworn never to surrender his freedom again. In any case he owed Jemima a debt. In the grip of ignorance and lacerating bitterness at her betrayal of trust he had seduced her and she hadn’t deserved that. Virginity had to matter to a woman who had reached almost twenty-four years of age without experimenting and he had taken it from her. Carelessly, thoughtlessly, cruelly.
‘I took advantage of you last night,’ Luciano breathed in a driven undertone. ‘I was angry. I was drunk.’
Her pale blue eyes widened and she set down her cup with a sharp little snap. ‘No, nobody took advantage of anyone last night. I’m an adult and I made a choice.’
‘You weren’t in any fit state to make a choice.’
Anger flared in her mutinous gaze. ‘I chose you because I’ve never been so attracted to anyone before. I’m not proud that I was that shallow but it was my decision!’
Silence lay thick and heavy between them in the heat and she shifted uneasily in her seat, embarrassed by her own vehemence. Had she really had to admit that she had never wanted any man the way she had wanted him? Didn’t that sound a bit pathetic?
‘The odd thing about decisions is that when you make major ones you’re always convinced that you’ll never change your mind. After my wife died in the crash I decided that I would never marry again,’ Luciano confessed tautly, unsettling her with that admission. ‘I did not want to share my life with another woman but I was grieving for the child I had lost and I did still want to be a parent. That is why I came up with the idea of a surrogacy agreement. I thought it would be a simple business contract and problem free, but I didn’t count on dealing with a woman like your sister.’
Jemima heaved a sigh but said nothing. By running away with Nicky after the birth, Julie had changed everyone’s lives and there was no getting away from that. She was, however, far more interested