The Gold Collection. Maggie Cox

Rebekah’s mind of the box she had found in Dante’s grandmother’s bedroom at the house in Tuscany. She recalled his strange reaction when she had opened the box and found a child’s clothes and toys. ‘It has something to do with Ben, doesn’t it?’ she said slowly. ‘Who is he?’

      ‘I believed he was my son. And for that reason I married his mother.’

      That wasn’t completely true, Dante acknowledged silently. He had been in love with Lara and when she had told him she was pregnant with his baby he had seized the opportunity to make her his wife.

      Rebekah’s legs suddenly felt as though they wouldn’t support her. ‘You were married?’ She was staggered to think that Dante—the anti-marriage, anti-commitment divorce lawyer had once been married. She wondered if he had loved his wife. Something in his voice told her that he had, and she felt an agonising stab of jealousy. She frowned as she recalled his curious statement that he had believed Ben was his son. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said wearily.

      Dante saw Rebekah sway unsteadily. Her face was deathly pale and he feared she was about to faint. He cursed himself. She was pregnant but, instead of taking care of her, he had not even invited her to take her coat off.

      ‘Sit down,’ he commanded roughly, his frown deepening when she did not protest as he tugged her coat from her shoulders and pushed her gently down into an armchair. She rested her head against the cushions and closed her eyes so that her long lashes fanned her cheeks. While she was off her guard he studied her, roaming his eyes greedily over her firm breasts and coming to a juddering halt when he reached the rounded swell of her stomach. For the first time since she had told him she was pregnant he thought about what that actually meant. There was a strong likelihood that the child inside her was his. A strange feeling that he could not even begin to assimilate unfurled inside him. He stretched out a hand to her, compelled to touch her stomach, but snatched it back as she opened her eyes.

      ‘Are you keeping well? Eating properly and everything?’ he demanded awkwardly.

      ‘Like a horse,’ she said drily, ‘which is why I’m showing already. I’m afraid I’m not going to be one of those women who sail through pregnancy with hardly any visible sign and snap back into their skinny jeans half an hour after giving birth.’

      ‘What does it matter?’ It occurred to Dante that Rebekah had never looked more beautiful than she did now. He found her curvaceous figure incredibly sexy, but there was something else about her that he couldn’t explain, an air of serenity and contentment that softened her face and made her lovelier than ever.

      Abruptly he moved away from her, strode over to the bar and refilled his glass. ‘You said you don’t understand about Ben, so I’ll tell you.

      ‘Six years ago I worked for a law firm in New York and had an affair with another lawyer at the company. Lara was a couple of years older than me. She’d been a top catwalk model but had given up modelling to concentrate on her legal career.’

      So the mysterious Lara, who Nicole had mentioned in Tuscany, was beautiful and brainy, Rebekah thought dismally. She realised Dante had continued speaking, and forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying.

      ‘I knew she had been seeing another guy before I met her, but she assured me the relationship was over.’ Dante grimaced. ‘I admit I was blown away by her. She was stunningly attractive, ambitious, sophisticated—everything I most admired. My parents’ marital problems had made me wary of marriage, but when Lara said she was expecting my baby I was keen to marry her, and although the pregnancy was unplanned I was excited at the prospect of being a father.

      ‘I watched our son being born and held him in my arms when he was a few minutes old. Ben stole my heart,’ he said gruffly. ‘I was besotted with him, and I took care of him a lot of the time because Lara wanted to pursue her career. Several times I even took him to visit my grandmother at the Casa di Colombe while Lara remained in New York.

      ‘Perlita adored him as much as I did. But during a trip to Tuscany when Ben was two years old, Lara arrived unexpectedly and announced that our marriage was over. It was a bolt from the blue. I’d had no reason to think she was unhappy with our relationship. But she admitted she had been having an affair with her ex-boyfriend for several months and intended to divorce me and marry him.’

      Dante took a long swig of whisky and relished its fiery heat as it hit the back of his throat.

      ‘I was angry that she had cheated on me, but my main concern was for Ben and I tried to persuade her to give our marriage another try.’ His jaw clenched. ‘She then dropped the bombshell that I wasn’t Ben’s father. At the same time that she had begun an affair with me, she had slept with her ex a couple of times. When she’d realised she was pregnant she knew the other guy was the father. But he had ended his relationship with her and moved away—and he didn’t have any money. I, on the other hand, had good career prospects and a ton of money, and so she deliberately led me to believe Ben was my son—until his real father showed up again, complete with a sizeable inheritance fund and a willingness to take responsibility for his child.’

      ‘Oh, Dante.’

      It was incredible how two words could hold such a depth of compassion, Dante thought, feeling that strange sensation of something unfurling inside him again when he saw the gentle expression in Rebekah’s eyes.

      She stood up and walked over to him, and unbelievably she reached out and touched his arm, as if she hoped the physical contact would show that she understood how devastated he had been by Lara’s deception. He swallowed, thinking that he had treated her shamefully, yet she had not hesitated to show her sympathy for him.

      The bleak expression in Dante’s eyes told Rebekah that he had not come to terms with his wife’s terrible deception or the pain of losing the child he had loved. She sensed that even after he had learned that Ben was not his son he had still cared for the little boy.

      ‘What happened to Ben?’ she asked quietly.

      ‘Lara took him and I never saw him again. I understand she married Ben’s father, and as far as I know they’re still together.’

      Rebekah did not know what to say that wouldn’t sound trite. ‘What happened to you was terrible,’ she murmured. ‘But this situation is different. I swear the baby is yours and I’ve agreed to a paternity test.’

      Perhaps when he’d had a chance to get over his shock about her pregnancy he would see that his baby needed its father. She suddenly felt bone-weary, probably the result of anti-climax and a surfeit of emotions, she told herself. She felt a desperate need to be alone while she assimilated everything Dante had told her about his past. It was little wonder he had reacted with such suspicion to her claim that she was expecting his baby after the way his wife had lied to him.

      ‘How soon can we have the paternity test?’ she asked flatly.

      ‘I’ll arrange for us to give blood samples tomorrow. It usually takes a week to ten days before the results come back.’ He had dealt with enough paternity issues during his clients’ divorce cases to be sure of his facts. Dante’s eyes narrowed as he watched Rebekah slip on her coat. ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘I’m staying at my friend Charlie’s overnight. Where shall I meet you for the blood test?’

      ‘I think you should stay here tonight.’ He was surprised at how strongly he hated the idea of her leaving. It was slowly sinking in that if the baby was his they would have to discuss what they were going to do, how they were both going to bring up their child.

      Dio, was he being a fool to believe the baby was his? His instincts told him he could trust Rebekah. He would swear she was honest and truthful. But he had trusted Lara once, taunted a bitter voice inside his head. After his divorce, he had vowed he would never trust a woman again.

      ‘You can stay in your old room,’ he told her. ‘The clothes you left behind are still there. In the morning I’ll drive you to the clinic in Harley Street.’

      ‘No,