‘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 in wondering why Luciano had decided never to remarry. Had that been a tribute to the wife he loved? Gigi Nocella had been a gorgeous and very famous movie star. What woman could possibly follow in such gilded footsteps?
‘You have had complete responsibility for my son since he was only a few days old,’ Luciano pointed out.
‘Yes.’ Jemima snapped back to the present and shook irritably free of her futile speculation about Luciano’s past. ‘Julie went back to London to work. She told me that she earned good money working in PR and I had no reason to doubt her. I continued my teaching job and placed Nicky in a nursery nearby. Julie didn’t help with the expense and it was a challenge to afford it on my salary and my savings were soon gone. My parents were struggling too, so it made sense for me to give up my apartment and move home again.’
‘You’ve made sacrifices to look after my son,’ Luciano acknowledged grimly. ‘And you have looked after him well. I believe that you love him and that he loves you.’
‘I couldn’t help loving him.’ Jemima sighed.
‘But he’s not your child.’
Jemima grimaced at that unnecessary reminder. ‘That didn’t come into it for me.’
Luciano continued to study her with brooding intensity. ‘My son may not be your child now but he could be...’
Jemima stared back at him in bewilderment. ‘What on earth are you saying?’ she framed uncertainly.
‘I’m asking you to marry me to become my son’s mother and my wife,’ Luciano clarified with silken sibilance, his dark eyes glimmering golden as a lion’s in the sunlight. ‘It makes sense—in this situation it makes the very best sense. Think about it and you’ll see that.’
JEMIMA WAS IN SHOCK.
Luciano Vitale was asking her to marry him. How was that possible? She had joined him at breakfast expecting to be told when she would be flying home and instead he had proposed marriage. Her lashes fluttered down to screen her eyes.
‘Nicky’s mother?’
‘And the mother of any other children that we might have together,’ Luciano slotted in smoothly, catching her startled upward glance and looking steadily back at her. ‘I’m talking about a normal marriage and a family. Be assured of that.’
Jemima felt rather like a mouse cornered by a cat. His brilliant dark eyes sought out hers, level and direct and forceful, as if seeking assurance that she was listening properly. A normal marriage, a family. Shock was piling on shock. Her taut lips parted and she blurted out, ‘But you’re not in love with me!’
Luciano inclined his arrogant head to one side and compressed his sensual mouth. ‘Is that kind of romantic love so necessary to you?’
Jemima went pink. ‘I always assumed that I would only marry for love.’
‘But love doesn’t always last,’ Luciano parried wryly. ‘It can also encourage unrealistic expectations in the relationship. I can’t offer you love but I can offer you respect and consideration and fidelity. I believe there is a very good chance that a marriage created on such practical foundations would succeed.’
She thought he was quite probably the most beautiful man in the world as he leant back against that balustrade, black curls ruffling in the breeze above his darkly handsome features. He was offering her respect, consideration and fidelity. Didn’t he believe in love? Or did he still think he was in love with his first wife? She wanted to ask but it felt like the wrong moment. Luciano had proposed marriage. Wasn’t that supposed to be special? It was obvious he had thought in depth about marrying her.
‘Why me?’ she asked baldly.
‘Primarily you love my son and he loves you. I grew up without