Welcome to your biggest challenge yet, Rio thought grimly, trying not to notice how beautiful she was in that naturally beautiful way that so many women tried and failed to achieve. He froze there, suppressing his body’s equally natural instincts, none of which felt appropriate in the House of God.
‘Rio...’ Ellie whispered uncertainly, mortified by the nerves that had stolen the volume from her voice.
He could have been carved from stone as he stood there, still and quiet as a predator, sheathed in a light grey designer suit. He resembled a stone angel with cutting cheekbones, a hard-hewn jawline and a mouth as wilful, stubborn and passionate as sin. His eyes were a pure dazzling gold in the light and she blinked rapidly, striving to shut the sheer intensity of him out and to be polite but distant, treating him the same way she usually treated men. But how could she achieve that when she knew in her heart that he had sought her out because he was shocked and agitated by what Beppe had shared with him?
‘Are you a believer?’ he prompted lightly.
‘Yes. Are you?’
‘I was raised by nuns in an orphanage and spent more time on my knees than in school. Of course I am,’ Rio told her wryly.
And it was as though he had squeezed her heart at the same time as he filled in some of the blanks in her repeated attempts to understand what made him what he was. An orphanage, she thought sadly.
‘I bet you were always in trouble,’ Ellie remarked without thinking.
‘Pretty much. Beppe and his wife raised funds for the home and did a lot to help the children, particularly the disabled ones amongst us,’ Rio admitted. ‘Although that home is closed now and conditions are greatly improved in its replacement. Beppe is still very much involved in finding employment and educational opportunities for the less fortunate. He is a good man.’
‘Yes,’ Ellie agreed tightly.
‘And you are his daughter,’ Rio declared without any perceptible emotion at all. ‘I must assume you take after your mother since you don’t look much like your father.’
‘She was tall, red-haired and pale-skinned like me. I think I get my lack of height from Beppe,’ Ellie breathed uncomfortably. ‘You’re angry that I didn’t tell you why I so particularly wanted to meet Beppe.’
‘It wasn’t your secret to share,’ Rio conceded, surprising her. ‘But I must confess that I was completely unprepared for what he admitted to me. I shouldn’t have been. There must have been times when he felt trapped in his marriage. He is only human.’
‘Let’s not talk about that,’ Ellie advised. ‘I don’t think we can ever understand that sort of situation unless we’ve actually lived the same experience—’
‘Porca miseria! That’s a very compassionate comment from judgemental Ellie!’ Rio commented, an ebony brow slanting up in apparent wonderment.
‘Let’s also try not to argue.’ Ellie sent him a rueful look of appeal. ‘You’re shocked right now, of course you’re shocked. You thought you knew everything there was to know about Beppe—’
‘I don’t want judgemental Ellie or Dr Ellie right at this moment,’ Rio interposed.
The pale triangle of her face flushed as though he had slapped her. ‘I’m not sure I know how to be anything else—’
‘We’ll have coffee...and talk,’ Rio framed, extending a lean, long-fingered hand to her in invitation.
Ellie hesitated as if a shark had bared its teeth at her. And then she forced her arm to lift and she grasped his hand, a frisson of quivering awareness shimmying down her spine. He was trying to accept her and because he was making the effort, she had to make it too. His attitude thoroughly disconcerted her because she had expected only anger, condemnation and suspicion from Rio and he had just as swiftly proven her expectations wrong.
She had expected Rio to walk her across the square to the local café but instead he tucked her into the car illegally parked outside. Belatedly it occurred to her that the busy little café would scarcely be a good choice for a private chat.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘My home. Have you had lunch?’
‘No, but I’m not really hungry... Too much excitement today,’ she extended wryly.
His long brown fingers flexed smoothly round the steering wheel and she remembered those fingers skimming across her body, expert and deliberate. She dragged in a short sustaining breath but she could still feel the tingling in her swelling breasts and the pulse of damp heat between her thighs. He had stripped her bare of every conviction she had once had about herself, she acknowledged reluctantly. She was a much more sexual being than she had ever dreamt but it had taken Rio to awaken and set free that side of her nature. It was terrifying to feel so vulnerable and yet Rio was currently on his very best behaviour, she recognised suddenly. Why was that? What was he planning? Why had he not yet said a single angry or insulting word to her?
‘Who did this house belong to before you bought it?’ she asked to break the silence as he steered the Ferrari down the long drive.
‘An ancestor of Beppe’s, who kept his mistress here—’
‘How novel,’ Ellie said drily.
‘Yes, he was considered the rotten apple in the very respectable family barrel and after he died the house was left to go to rack and ruin because no one in the family thought it acceptable to live in what had once been the mistress’s home. I bought it at auction and restored it. It’s convenient to have somewhere close when I visit...your father.’
He voiced the designation with cool clarity. Your father. It shook her to accept that she finally had a father and that the ancestor who had kept a mistress had actually been one of her ancestors, as well. It was as though a family tree had suddenly unfolded in front of her and she smiled at the wonderful sense of security that gave her. ‘I thought you would’ve stayed with Beppe when you visited—’
‘Not if I wanted female companionship. You may not have noticed it but Beppe is rather old-fashioned in spite of his liaison with your mother,’ Rio commented. ‘It’s simply easier to keep that side of my life away from him.’
Ellie climbed out of the car in the sunlight, grateful to have movement to distract her from thoughts of Rio’s chequered past. None of her business, she reminded herself doggedly as he led the way into the big house. A housekeeper greeted them at the door and Rio addressed her in Italian.
‘I ordered a light lunch for you,’ Rio told her. ‘You shouldn’t be skipping meals.’
Ellie compressed her lips on a hasty reply.
‘And you know I’m right,’ Rio added with unblemished assurance.
He guided her out to a shaded terrace and pulled out a comfortable padded chair for her. ‘Sit down...’
‘You’re so bossy,’ Ellie complained, settling down and kicking off her canvas shoes to flex her overheated bare feet on the cold stone.
His housekeeper arrived with freshly squeezed orange juice for her and a glass of wine for Rio. She wondered if she was being deprived of the alcohol option because she could be pregnant but said nothing because she had been avoiding alcohol since their moment of madness. She liked that label. A moment of madness suggested a crazy once-only impulse that was out of character, but then everything that had happened with Rio had been out of character.
‘What did you want us to talk about?’ she pressed boldly, not wanting him to think she was tongue-tied in his presence.
‘I brought you here to propose to you but I’m not quite sure how to go about it,’ Rio murmured lazily. ‘If I got down on one knee, you would