The Italian's Christmas Proposition / Christmas Baby For The Greek. Cathy Williams

in England, and was taken into hospital, but by the time they diagnosed meningitis it was too late.’

      Rosie covered her mouth with her hand and stared at him. There was a remoteness about his features that mirrored the cool briskness of his voice. He was stating facts with all emotion removed from the recital. More than anything, she felt her heart twist at that. It was a defence mechanism to protect himself from the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. That was something she felt instinctively, just as she also knew instinctively that this proud, arrogant man would not appreciate her sharing her thoughts with him.

      In that moment, he was so very human that she wanted to reach out and touch him. She sat on her hands just in case they decided to disobey the warning bells in her head telling her to avoid any such spontaneous show of affection.

      ‘I’m so sorry, Matteo,’ she contented herself by saying and he lowered his eyes, thick lashes brushing his aristocratic cheekbones, before he looked at her once again, fully composed.

      ‘Don’t be. It’s history.’

      ‘And where is your father now?’ she asked. ‘Does he live over here? He must have been devastated at the time. Did he return to Italy?’

      ‘My father died when I was four and I was taken into foster care. No, he did not return to Italy. I have maintained my links, however. I have a villa on the outskirts of Venice and at the moment I’m in the process of expanding my operations to Naples. Hence my conference call earlier.’

      ‘Foster care?’

      ‘It’s of no importance.’ He stood up and glanced around, making sure that he was leaving nothing behind.

      Rosie thought differently. It was of monumental importance and it gave her valuable insight into this forbidding stranger now phoning down for a porter to come and collect his belongings.

      He was so cold, she thought, so contained, and there was a very good reason for that.

      He was walking towards the door and she shot to her feet and hurried behind him. Instead of opening the door, however, he stared down at her, his dark eyes shuttered.

      ‘The only reason I’ve told you what I have,’ he stated, ‘Is because you have a point. Relationships aren’t built on two people knowing absolutely nothing about one another, and this has to be a credible relationship until all the paperwork is done on the deal I’m working on with Bob and Margaret.’

      ‘You haven’t told me why it’s so important.’

      ‘Nor will I. And I should tell you that you should save the questions if any of them involve further delving into my past. I’ve given you sufficient information for us to pull this charade off. The confidences end there. The fact is we are not in a relationship. This is a temporary and fictitious arrangement and all we need to establish is a sufficiently credible basis from which we can answer the most straightforward questions.’ He opened the door and they walked in silence to the lift, then rode down to the busy foyer.

      All the while, thoughts were buzzing around in her head like wasps. He had opened a door and, having peered in, she wanted to have another look.

      As soon as they were back in the public domain, he slung his arm over her shoulders, only breaking apart to sign himself out.

      There was a background hum of Christmas carols being played which followed them out of the hotel onto the snow-covered slopes.

      Rosie had been to many ski resorts with her family over the years but they had fallen in love with this one and had made it their annual destination. The ski resort was situated in the heart of the Southern Alps in the Veneto region of Northern Italy. From here, Venice was a couple of hours away, and she figured that Matteo had probably arranged for his clients to come to this particular resort because it had suited him. He couldn’t have picked a more beautiful spot for the uninitiated.

      The mountainous, pink and orange backdrop of the Dolomites was picture-postcard perfect, soaring up, commanding the valley and everything nestled inside it. The vista never failed to impress and Rosie stopped and stared at the sight.

      ‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’ She turned to him impulsively.

      ‘Meaning?’

      ‘You should learn to ski. I could teach you.’ She laughed at the horror etched on Matteo’s lean face and slowly he grinned.

      ‘You don’t give up, do you?’ he murmured, staring out at the panoramic view with her. Out here, everything was shrouded in silence, and the hue from the rising mountains was quite special. He had always used his Venetian villa as a bolthole. It had never occurred to him that this glorious place existed. But then again, he didn’t ski, so why would it have?

      He gazed back down to her upturned face. She had dimples when she smiled. She had stuffed a woolly hat on her head and her tangled white-blonde curls trailed in disarray from under it. Wrapped up in countless layers, her small, curvaceous body was tempting beyond endurance and Matteo spun around on his heels, indicating that they should make for her car now.

      ‘What do you mean?’ Rosie tripped alongside him, keeping some distance but feeling the impact of his presence slamming into her at every step.

      ‘I mean, others would have tactfully retreated once I warned them off trying to get to know me.’

      ‘That’s very egotistical of you.’ She swerved into the hotel car park, heading towards the four-wheel-drive car that was kept on permanent standby, as the villa was used by the family out of season as well.

      ‘Egotistical?’

      ‘I don’t want to get to know you,’ Rosie lied, beeping open the doors and hoisting herself into the driver’s seat. She waited until he was sitting in the passenger seat before turning to him. In the late-evening light he was all shadows and angles, and he sent a shiver of fierce excitement racing down her spine. ‘I just thought that, if we’re going to be stuck with one another for days on end, it might give us something to do aside from arguing, and anyway, it’s a shame to be here and not try your hand at it.’

      She started the engine and the car shuddered into life.

      ‘I’ve never had any woman tell me that she has to think of things to do if she’s going to be stuck with me,’ Matteo said, amused in spite of himself. ‘Sure you know how to handle this thing in snowy terrain?’

      ‘The road to the chalet is clear and gritted, Matteo, so there’s no need to be nervous—and of course I know how to handle it.’ She glanced across at him. ‘Don’t tell me that you think women can’t drive as good as men?’

      ‘Can they, though?’

      Rosie heard the lazy teasing in his voice and she burst out laughing.

      Her heart skipped a beat. A thread of something beyond excitement suddenly sparked and sizzled in her veins.

      ‘Probably better.’ She was focused one hundred percent on the road ahead of her, taking it very slowly, but she didn’t want to lose the moment. She liked this. ‘Are you scared of giving it a go? The skiing, I mean?’

      ‘Terrified,’ Matteo drawled.

      ‘I’ll make sure you’re all right.’

      ‘Will you, now? That’s an offer that’s almost too good to pass up.’

      They were nearing the chalet—a left-hand turn off the main road and then just a short drive to the warmth of the ski lodge. The drive was short but hazardous, but the car was equipped for all conditions and handled the steep climb to the chalet with aplomb. Ahead, the bright lights were welcoming.

      Candice was waiting for them, dressed to go out but making sure she stayed put to ask questions. Having shaken off the snow, hung various jackets and coats and dumped shoes and boots and all the other paraphernalia, Rosie faced her elegant, glamorous sister with a strength of purpose she had never really experienced before.

      From behind, she was aware of Matteo