A Cinderella To Secure His Heir. Michelle Smart

arrived as I was leaving. Everything is exactly as it should be. Your organisational skills are exceptional.’

      Warmed by the compliment, she demurred. ‘As you know very well, it was a team effort, and besides a six-week deadline to organise the masquerade ball of the century forces the mind to focus.’

      Another gleam flashed before he peered down into the pram. He stared at Dom for what felt like an age before raising his gaze back to her. ‘This is your son?’

      The flirtatious sparkle that had been in his eyes had vanished. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why—Valente had just remembered Beth was a mother...

      Either that or she’d imagined the interest she’d seen in his eyes. The latter was most likely. Beth was seriously out of practice with the big, wide world and the flirtatious practices that went on in it. She’d never been party to the flirtatious practices when she’d been a full-time part of it.

      ‘This is Dom,’ she confirmed. Telling Valente she was Dom’s legal guardian and not his biological mother would only lead to the inevitability of further questions. Caroline’s death was still too raw for her to talk about it without turning into an emotional mess. The next twenty-four hours were going to be manically busy. She needed to focus on the job she was being paid to do. ‘I would introduce you but he’s only just gone off to sleep.’

      He cast one more look at the sleeping baby. ‘Let’s get you to the palace and introduce you to the nanny who will look after him while you work.’

      So saying, he picked up her suitcase as easily as if it were filled with nothing but air and carried it to the exit.

      Keeping step with him, Beth found herself wondering, not for the first time, how a man who exuded such raw power as Valente could be comfortable working for anyone but himself. Even the way he composed his emails suggested a man who should be ordering minions around, not a man earning a living doing another’s bidding.

      When Alessio stepped out of the airport, he found the sun had risen in the Viennese morning sky. Its hazy beauty passed him by.

      That was his orphaned nephew sleeping in the pram.

      ‘Have you been to Vienna before?’ he asked Beth. He needed to keep conversation flowing.

      Until a few minutes ago, the closest he’d come to Domenico, the child Beth called Dom, was through photographs.

      His plan had worked seamlessly. Beth was here and she’d brought his nephew with her.

      And she still had no idea who he really was.

      There had been only a small chance Beth would recognise him. Alessio, like the rest of the Palvettis, guarded his privacy zealously and the few pictures of him in the public domain were obscured. There was nothing in the way of similarity between him and his deceased brother either, in personality or looks.

      It had been tough, learning his brother had died in a drunken accident without a family reconciliation, tough to learn he’d secretly married and tough to learn how long he’d been dead. His brother’s remains had been interred in a small cemetery in London rather than in his rightful place in the family plot in Milan. But to learn Domenico and his wife had given guardianship of their son to a stranger, a woman who was not even a blood relative on his mother’s side...?

      That had been the hardest blow.

      Domenico’s estrangement from and loathing of his family had gone beyond the grave. It had been the ultimate act of defiance against a family who had pandered to all his selfish needs and fanciful dreams.

      Alessio had pushed his grief and fury towards his dead brother aside and set about bringing his nephew home. He would not allow the son to suffer for his father’s petulance. Domenico’s son was a Palvetti and deserved to be raised as such, not be left in the care of a stranger who didn’t even share his blood.

      Employing a private investigative team to dig into the guardian’s life, he’d discovered she was a single twenty-four-year-old woman. Doubtless, she would be pleased to be rid of the burden of an orphaned child. Or so he’d thought.

      He’d sent her a polite email requesting that they meet. She had replied with a curt ‘No.’ He’d got his lawyers involved but she’d remained unmoved. Assuming she was holding out for a financial offer from him—he’d learned the unpaid leave she’d taken from her workplace, presumably to care for his nephew, had left her dirt-poor—he’d offered her a million pounds for custody of his nephew.

      Her instant dismissal of this offer and her threats to take legal action if he continued his ‘harassment’ had intrigued rather than angered him. By this point his investigators had compiled their final reports on her and what he’d learned had made interesting reading. Before going on leave, Beth had been a successful events manager.

      A career-minded woman with a clear affection for his nephew...? A plan had germinated in his mind.

      Alessio had wanted to spend a couple more years at the helm of Palvetti, the exclusive jewellery and perfumery business founded by his great-grandparents, before taking the ultimate step of selecting a wife and continuing the family dynasty. But if he was to take custody of his nephew that meant bringing his life plan forward. He would employ wraparound childcare, but his nephew would need a mother. Alessio’s own mother had never been maternal but her feminine influence had been strong in his life and he wanted his nephew to have that same influence.

      But marriage was not an institution to go into on a whim and investigative reports on a person only revealed so much. He needed to learn for himself if Beth was as ideal a candidate in real life as she was on paper.

      That was when Alessio had contacted his old friend and called in the favour owed from their English school days. In return for Alessio providing an alibi that had saved Giannis Basinas from expulsion twenty years ago, Giannis would host a ball in the heart of Vienna, in the sumptuous palace he’d bought a few years ago and spent millions renovating. And he would employ White’s Events to run it for him with the specific request that Beth Hardingstone be the manager for it.

      Alessio’s name would not be mentioned in the same breath as the masquerade ball. This was not only to keep Beth Hardingstone oblivious to his plans. Alessio lived his life quietly and discreetly, far from the media spotlight, keeping the Palvetti mystique that his great-grandparents had first cultivated and which enhanced the allure of their brand.

      With no idea of the real reason for her being there, Beth answered his question with a cheery, ‘I’ve always wanted to visit Vienna but this is the first job to bring me here.’

      They’d reached his car, a gleaming black four-wheel drive. He clicked the fob to unlock it.

      ‘Is this yours?’ she asked with obvious surprise.

      ‘It’s for work.’ Another evasion of the truth, he acknowledged ruefully as he opened the back door. Intrinsically honest, he found the deception about his identity increasingly hard to maintain.

      Beth opened the back door then fixed large brown eyes as velvety as chocolate on him with a smile. ‘You remembered a baby seat.’

      He nodded. Damn, but she was beautiful when she smiled.

      He’d been struck by that smile at their first meeting then in all their subsequent video calls. Her wide, generous mouth naturally turned upwards, as if smiling were her default position.

      Today she’d dressed in a pair of slim-fitting cream trousers that rested above her ankles and a striped grey and white shirt. On her feet were flat ballerina-slipper-style shoes which, remembering the heels she’d worn to their first meeting, he guessed were for the practical reason of having a child in tow. Her long, dark hair had been left loose, the slight breeze lifting random silky strands, some falling across her pretty heart-shaped face. She wore no make-up that he could see but, with her lightly golden, clear complexion and those large, chocolaty eyes, she didn’t need it.

      She reached into the pram and unstrapped Dom.

      Alessio