Untouched Until Marriage. Chantelle Shaw

guardian, and although you are his half-sister, legally you have no rights regarding his upbringing.’

      If Liz had known she was going to die, of course she would have appointed her daughter as Gino’s guardian, Libby thought desperately. But, as Alice had pointed out, she had no proof of her mother’s wishes. It was ironic that Pietro Carducci, who had not even acknowledged his son’s birth, should have made provision for Gino in his will. If the matter went to court, it seemed likely that Pietro’s wishes would be taken into account, and possible that Raul would be granted custody of Gino and be allowed to take him to Italy.

      Her heart was pounding with panic but one crucial thought stood out in Libby’s mind. Raul believed that Gino was her baby. Clearly he had no idea that there had been two Elizabeth Maynards, or that the woman who had conceived Pietro Carducci’s child as a result of their brief affair had died only a month after Pietro had passed away. She recalled the expression of disgust on Raul’s face when he had asked her what had attracted her to his older, wealthy father. He believed she was a gold-digger, but it was better he thought that than discovered that she was Gino’s half-sister and had no legal claim on him, she thought wildly.

      She frowned, suddenly remembering something Raul had said. ‘Why did you accuse me of owing rent on the flat where we—I,’ she hastily amended, knowing she must hide the fact that she had lived in London with her mother, ‘lived before I moved to Cornwall? Of course I paid the rent.’

      Raul’s eyes narrowed at Libby’s belligerent tone. He was not used to being spoken to in that manner by anyone, and certainly not by a woman. His staff, both at the Villa Giulietta and at Carducci Cosmetics, treated him with the utmost respect, and the women he mixed with socially tended to hang on his every word. To his mind, a woman’s role was to make light conversation, to provide soothing company after a day of hard bargaining in the boardroom and to grace his bed so that he could enjoy mutually satisfying sex without the complications of emotional involvement.

      Elizabeth Maynard—or Libby, as she called herself, would be a far from soothing companion, he thought as he stared at her mass of wild red curls and stormy eyes. Her mouth was set in an angry line that challenged him to kiss her until her lips softened and parted and allowed him to slide his tongue between them. He inhaled sharply, and it took all of his formidable will-power to ignore the dictates of his body and listen to the cool logic of his brain. She was Pietro’s tart, who had had no compunction about seducing a much older man with her nubile young body, and no way was the son going to repeat the mistakes of his father, Raul assured himself grimly.

      ‘Your landlord said that you were frequently behind with the rent, and when you moved away suddenly you left owing him several thousand pounds,’ he said coldly. ‘Why would he lie?’

      ‘To get back at me because I refused to sleep with him, most likely,’ Libby muttered bitterly. ‘He was a horrible old man. I used to take him the rent money regularly every month and he never missed an opportunity to try and grope me. He made it clear that he would reduce the rent if I “paid” him in another way.’

      ‘Are you saying you weren’t tempted?’ Raul queried derisively. ‘I assume you make a habit of sleeping with older men for financial gain. You certainly struck gold with my father,’ he continued, ignoring her furious gasp. ‘Having his child was a clever move, which I guess you thought would ensure you a meal ticket for life. You thought right; it has,’ he said contemptuously. ‘Pietro has granted you the right to bring up your son at the Carducci family villa, and take control of fifty percent of Carducci Cosmetics until Gino is eighteen.’

      Raul gave a harsh laugh when Libby stared at him open-mouthed. He reached inside his coat and retrieved a sheaf of papers. ‘Congratulations. You’ve hit the jackpot,’ he drawled sarcastically as he thrust the documents at Libby.

      She stared dazedly at the first page and saw that it was headed ‘The last will and testament of Pietro Gregorio Carducci.’ Conscious that Raul was watching her, she ran her eyes down the page until she came to a paragraph which stated that Gino’s mother, Elizabeth Maynard, should live at the Villa Giulietta, with all her expenses and living costs paid for out of the estate, until her son came of age.

      It was astounding. She could barely comprehend it. But before she could read any further Gino made a grab for the documents. He was clearly fascinated by the white paper, and, remembering how he had shredded an important letter from the bank the previous day, Libby hastily handed the will back to Raul.

      ‘So you mean you want me to live in Italy with Gino?’ she said slowly, relief flooding through her that Raul hadn’t sought her out to take the baby away from her. Not that she would have allowed him to, she thought fiercely. Gino was the only person she had left in the world, and she was prepared to do anything to keep him—even if that meant pretending that he was her son.

      ‘I can’t think of anything I’d like less,’ Raul said, in a coldly arrogant tone that made her feel about two feet high. ‘But unfortunately I have no say in the matter. My father clearly stated his wish that Gino and his mother should live at the Villa Giulietta.’

      Libby glanced at her baby brother and felt her heart melt when he stared solemnly back at her with his big brown eyes. His light olive skin and mass of dark curls spoke of his Italian heritage, but he had her mother’s smile, she thought, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. Liz had adored her baby for the few short months she had spent with him. It seemed so desperately cruel that Gino had been robbed of his mother before he’d ever had a chance to know her, but she would take Liz’s place, Libby vowed silently. Her little brother was her only link with her mum. She loved him just as deeply as if he was her own child, and she was determined to do what was best for him.

      But would taking him to live in Italy, with Raul, who clearly resented his half-brother, really be in Gino’s best interest? she brooded. Her doubts increased when she glanced at the autocratic features of the handsome Italian. ‘We have things to talk about,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Perhaps we could meet in a day or two…’

      Raul frowned impatiently. ‘I don’t have a day or two to waste hanging around here. And anyway, what is there to discuss? My father named Gino as his heir, and I can’t believe you would turn down the chance to get your hands on his inheritance. Presumably you deliberately fell pregnant in the first place so that you could demand a massive payout in child maintenance?’

      ‘I did no such thing,’ Libby retorted angrily. Although he did not know it, Raul was insulting her mother, not her, and if she hadn’t been holding Gino she would have slapped that arrogant smirk off his face. Far from deliberately falling pregnant, Liz had been utterly shocked when she had discovered that she had conceived a baby as a result of her holiday romance with a charming Italian.

      ‘Gino was unplanned, it’s true, but he was very wanted,’ she told Raul huskily, remembering how Liz’s shock had turned to delight that she was going to be a mother again. ‘My mo—’ She stopped in her tracks and continued hurriedly, ‘Your father was informed of Gino’s birth, but he never acknowledged his son and I never expected anything from him.’

      Raul gave a disbelieving snort. ‘My father was an honourable man who would never have turned his back on his child.’ He frowned as a thought occurred to him. ‘When was Gino born?’

      ‘The seventh of June. He’s ten months old now.’

      ‘Pietro was very ill by June of last year, and he died in August,’ Raul told her flatly. ‘An inoperable brain tumour had been diagnosed the previous October and it grew rapidly. Did you know about his illness?’ he asked Libby sharply.

      She shook her head. Pietro must have fallen ill soon after her mother had returned from the Mediterranean cruise she had won. The cruise on which Liz had fallen in love with a gorgeous Italian, she had confessed to Libby, with a faintly embarrassed smile after all she had said over the years about the unreliability of men and the foolishness of losing your heart to one.

      Liz had been devastated when she had heard nothing more from Pietro after the cruise—especially when she’d discovered that she had conceived his child. ‘I’ve done it again,