Pregnant: Father Wanted. Claire Baxter

be a problem. Not here. In Milan, yes, it can be a nuisance. In other cities, Rome for instance, possibly. But generally I find the paparazzi limit themselves to covering high-profile events or the celebrity nightspots. My day-to-day activities aren’t normally interesting enough for the media, and down here I don’t think we’ll see any photographers.’

      ‘What about fans?’

      ‘They’re rarely a problem. Like the man who came to the table today, they’re usually polite. They deserve to be treated politely in return. These people spend their hard-earned money to go to games. The least they deserve is respect. I hope you don’t object if we have the occasional interruption?’

      ‘No, not at all.’

      After thanking Roberto for the delicious food and refusing a gelato to follow—even she had finally eaten enough—they got up from the table. As they headed for the door she wondered whether Ric had a girlfriend and, if he did, whether she matched the image Lyssa had of footballers’ women. Supermodel-slim. Perfectly groomed. Tall. All the things she wasn’t.

      She didn’t have body issues, but she was just an average woman and fully aware of her shortcomings. These sports people lived like rock stars and they had the women to match. She’d thought of them as bimbos, but that might be unfair. She shouldn’t judge them for choosing to obsess about their looks.

      She wasn’t interested in Ric, so it made no difference, but still she felt a little spear of disappointment that she could never have been his type even if things had been different for her.

      She shook off the feeling as they emerged into the bright spring sunshine and Ric excused himself to make a phone call. She was being silly. She was here to do a job and she had no business being attracted to Ric. The fact that he was completely out of her league was just an additional reason not to entertain such a ridiculous notion.

      Later, Lyssa gazed at the majestic Poseidon Temple with the Basilica standing next to it in a field of wild red poppies. She listened to Ric explaining that it was built around the same time as the Parthenon in Athens and was considered the best preserved example of a Doric temple in the world.

      It wasn’t the accent that made his speech so entertaining, and it wasn’t the facts, though he had a way of including details that fascinated her. No, there was something about his smooth-as-velvet voice combined with his matter-of-fact manner that made her want to listen to every word.

      ‘Since you’re not a real tour guide, how do you know so much about the history of the place?’ she asked as they turned to head back to the car.

      He shrugged. ‘What can I say? Even as a child, I found it interesting.’

      ‘Did you grow up around here?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Do your parents still live here?’

      ‘They died the day I turned twelve.’

      She sucked in a breath through her teeth. ‘Both at once?’

      ‘Yes. Car accident.’

      ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, her heart going out to him. She hesitated, but was unable to resist asking, ‘Who did you live with after the accident?’

      ‘I moved in with my uncle and aunt.’

      ‘The ones who own Amalfitori?’

      ‘Yes.’

      They were strolling slowly and he was a step ahead of her, making it difficult to see his face, but his voice sounded as matter-of-fact as ever, as if he didn’t find the subject painful.

      Or maybe he was just good at hiding it.

      ‘Were you an only child?’

      ‘No, my sisters were babies. My uncle and aunt took them in too. They required a lot of attention.’

      ‘Did they have children of their own as well?’

      ‘Yes. Older children. My cousins were sixteen, seventeen and nineteen.’

      Too old to be interested in the same things as a twelve-year-old, she assumed. Not an only child, then, but probably a lonely one.

      He turned to gesture to her to go ahead of him and she saw the sadness in his eyes. She had to swallow before speaking again. ‘So you had to find something to occupy yourself and history was it?’

      For a moment he looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to understand, but then he nodded. ‘You’re right. I spent hours studying history books.’

      After a pause, she said, ‘Well, thanks for the suggestion, Paestum was definitely worth the visit.’

      ‘You’re welcome. It’s in my interests to make you happy.’ His dimple appeared as he smiled. ‘And you’re easy to please.’

      His protective hand on her back as he guided her past a group of tourists was pleasing her at that moment. She told herself not to be quite so easily pleased. She couldn’t afford to be an idiot.

      ‘Well…’ she walked away from his hand, moving to her side of the car and looking at him across the roof ‘…I hope you can keep up the high standard you’ve set.’

      ‘I intend to.’

      After he’d steered the car back onto the road, he said, ‘You mentioned you had brothers.’

      ‘Mmm. Older brothers. Two.’

      ‘Did they look after you when you were growing up?’

      She blew out a breath. ‘If, by that, you mean did they frighten off every boy who came near me, yes, they did.’

      He chuckled. ‘Good. That’s what brothers are supposed to do.’

      Groaning, she said, ‘They were so annoying. When I went out with a group of friends, they’d turn up to keep an eye on me. You don’t do that to your sisters, do you?’

      ‘No,’ he said with a grimace, ‘but only because they’re away at school in Switzerland.’

      ‘Boarding-school?’

      ‘Yes. Well, I thought it was the best option under the circumstances. My uncle and aunt shouldn’t have the responsibility, and they’re not easy girls to keep under control.’

      ‘Do you see them at all?’

      ‘Of course. Whenever I can. I haven’t abandoned them if that’s what you’re thinking.’

      She searched his face. Satisfied by what she saw, she relaxed. ‘Well, I found out much later that my brothers had ulterior motives. It wasn’t only me they were keeping an eye on, it was my friends.’

      She rolled her eyes.

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘Yes, oh. It was all right for them to go out with girls of my age, but not for me to go out with boys of their age. Or of any age for that matter.’

      ‘What about your parents? What did they think?’

      ‘Oh, they were no help at all. They were so strict. They didn’t like me mixing with Australian girls because they thought they’d corrupt me. If they could have done they’d have locked me away till I was married, though how I’d have met anyone to marry I don’t know.’

      She heaved a sigh from deep inside. ‘Honestly, growing up in an Italian family in a country like Australia was difficult at times.’

      ‘Difficult? How?’

      ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a fabulous life and I’m grateful, but it’s the whole caught-between-two-cultures thing. My parents were stuck in the old ways, the ways they grew up with, but I was part of a different world. I’m sure things had changed where they’d come from too, but they couldn’t believe that because they couldn’t see it with their own eyes. You know what I mean?’

      ‘I