‘Charming,’ said Lucy diplomatically, and Ella shot her the briefest of sympathetic glances.
I bet she had to go through the same kind of interrogation with him, thought Lucy. But in her case it was warranted. She was in love with Nico, and he with her. Whereas in her case she was just here because…because…
Behind her fringe, her brow creased into a tiny frown. Just why had Guido brought her here? To keep his bed warm at night? Surely not. He had never seemed in need of close, intimate companionship in the past.
With an effort she pulled herself away from unanswerable thoughts and looked down at the sleeping bundle in Guido’s arms, thinking what a contrast it made—the tiny baby cradled within his powerful grip.
‘What’s…what’s his name?’ she questioned.
‘It’s Leo,’ answered Ella, and her wide mouth crinkled into a smile. ‘Well, Leonardo Amadore Constantinus Cacciatore, actually—but Leo for short! Would you like to hold him?’
‘Oh, I would! Can I?’
‘Of course you can! That’s if Guido can bear to let him go!’ said Ella impishly.
‘You like babies?’ questioned Nico softly.
She looked up into a face which was so like Guido’s yet a million miles away from his hard, handsome stare. ‘I love them.’ Lucy’s voice was fervent, but then she had always been hands-on with her friends’ children.
Guido’s eyes narrowed. ‘Here, Lucy.’ His voice was a murmur. ‘You’d better take him.’
It seemed almost too intimate as she took the child which Guido passed over to her with the care he might have employed if it had been handling a ticking time-bomb, and at first she held the child in a similarly over-exaggerated way. For a moment she was acutely aware that this was a Royal prince, perhaps the future King of Mardivino, since neither Guido nor Gianferro had shown any sign of producing an heir. All babies were precious, but this baby…
But those thoughts were forgotten the instant she smelt his particular baby smell and saw the easy warmth and trust of his innocent sleep. Instinctively she pulled him closer to her. With equal instinct the baby jerked his head, blindly searching for her breast, and Lucy blushed. Ella’s peal of laughter quickly dispelled any embarrassment, but she looked up to meet the steely stare of Guido and her feeling of apprehension increased.
Was he wondering—as she was—what had happened to the independent sex-bomb of a girlfriend he had brought with him? It was true that she had played her sensual part back in the suite, but it seemed to displease him that she was now cradling his nephew and cooing and blushing like any normal woman.
But surely that was the whole point—that underneath it all she was just a normal woman with normal desires? It was all very well in principle to tell yourself that you were just going to have a wild and passionate affair, without letting any constricting emotion get in the way. But that was what women did. It was the way they were made—programmed to react in a certain way, especially when there were babies around.
‘Here, Lucy. I’ll take him,’ said Ella, holding her arms out. ‘I’d better feed him before we go down to dinner. Gianferro may be a total walk-over where his nephew is concerned, but I doubt he’d appreciate it if I started breastfeeding my son at a State Banquet!’
State Banquet! Guido hadn’t mentioned that! Though when she stopped to think about it what had she expected—all of them having dinner on trays, clustered around a television set?
Lucy again looked at Guido, but this time he wasn’t even glancing in her direction. Instead, his gaze was roving rather distractedly around the Nursery suite. As if he was seeing it for the first time.
As if he was wondering what the hell he was doing there.
When she went into dinner Lucy thanked her lucky stars that she had let Guido buy her some suitable clothes for this trip, because otherwise… Otherwise she would have been left looking like an outsider, instead of just feeling like one.
As it was, the sleek black sheath was perfect. Silk-satin and cut on the bias, it seemed to have the magical properties of managing to emphasise all her good bits and completely disguise the bits she wasn’t so fond of. Consequently, her breasts looked lush and her waist a mere handspan of a thing, while the curve of her hips seemed both shapely yet slim. Oh, how different the world would look if all the women in it could dress in couture!
She had pinned her hair up—the way she sometimes did for work—its Titian colour a lustrous red-brown gleam and its stark lines adding to the impact of the beautifully simple dress.
She had seen Guido’s eyes darken as they watched her, but even as part of her had thrilled in the light of his silent and sensual appropation there had been something about his stern countenance which had made her wary.
For there was something so distant about him tonight. And not just physical distance—the fact that he was sitting far away from her at the long table, which was awash with beautiful flower arrangements and laid with ornate crystal and china.
It was as if he were a helium balloon and someone had cut the string which bound him to earth—sending him soaring ever higher into this lavish aristocratic stratosphere in which he moved so easily. While she was the little girl left staring at a fast-retreating, bobbing dot, knowing that she would never get it back again.
Oh, do stop it, Lucy, she urged herself, and pull yourself together. Just because he isn’t smiling across the table at you!
For a woman who hadn’t been going to read anything into anything she was doing a pretty good job of it!
So she fixed a smile to her lips and accepted a glass of champagne, and laughed obediently at the aged but rather amusing Count on her right side. After a while her lau
ghter grew relaxed and natural, and she chatted to some visiting Lord on her other side, who was obviously out to flirt for Britain! And it was easy to ignore the women who were vying outrageously for Guido’s attention—like a pack of fancy-plumaged vultures who were circling an especially delectable morsel.
Guido watched her, wondering why things which seemed so perfectly simple had a habit of complicating themselves.