Lizzie turned bright pink but recognised why he had interpreted her words in that light. ‘No, that’s not the problem,’ she responded stiffly, determined to keep her reasons for her solitary choice of lifestyle strictly private. There was no requirement whatsoever for her to explain herself to him and she was grateful for the fact.
‘If we had a child together, I would hope to meet all your expectations of a father,’ Cesare informed her with quiet conviction. ‘As it happens, I have a very good father of my own and appreciate the importance of the role he plays.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘That was my only real concern... Oh.’ She hesitated but there was no way of avoiding the most pressing requirement. ‘If we’re to proceed with this I’m afraid I’ll need some money from you upfront. I have to be honest—we are all stony broke. My sister needs some cash to stay on at university and I’ll have to rent a property in the village for my dad because when I leave, he’ll be relinquishing the tenancy of the farm.’
Absorbing the fluctuating expressions of embarrassment and apprehension skimming her heart-shaped face, Cesare sent her a soothing smile. ‘Naturally it’s not a problem. I expected something of the sort.’
‘You knew how we were fixed...before you visited?’ Lizzie queried in surprise.
‘I never enter a situation blind,’ Cesare countered unapologetically.
Danny the vet appeared in the doorway. ‘Archie will be out in a minute. My nurse is just finishing up with him. His leg’s broken and he’s had a blow to the skull, which means he’s a little woozy, but other than that he seems fine.’
After the vet had explained his treatment and proffered medication for the coming days, Archie emerged in the nurse’s arms, a cast attached to one small leg and a balloon collar round his neck to prevent him from nibbling at it. Lizzie gathered him close, tears tripping from her eyes again as she huskily thanked the older man while Cesare insisted on taking care of the bill.
‘I’m very attached to Archie,’ Lizzie explained, dashing tears of relief from her eyes with her elbow. ‘You can drive back if you want. The keys are in my pocket.’
Cesare fished out the keys and unlocked the car. ‘I was hoping you would fly back to London with me tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ Lizzie exclaimed in disbelief. ‘That’s impossible!’
‘We have a tight time schedule. I have everything arranged. Is it really impossible?’ Cesare prompted drily. ‘You appear to have no presentable clothes and can’t need to pack much.’
‘But I have to sort out somewhere for Dad to live and move him out of the cottage.’
‘I have staff who will hire professionals to deal with those tasks for you,’ Cesare told her with complete cool. ‘You’ve had your say. I have agreed to your terms and now I need you to come to London.’
It was bite-the-bullet time, Lizzie registered, angrily colliding with brilliant dark eyes as hard as jet. He was being unreasonable. Surely there was no excuse for such haste? But what choice did she have? The arrangement having been agreed, he was now in charge of events. ‘I’ll have to call in with my neighbour to ask him to look after the flock.’
‘Andrew Brook?’
Lizzie stiffened. ‘Yes.’
‘Why did you break up?’
‘That’s private,’ Lizzie told him waspishly.
Cesare gritted his teeth. ‘We’ll go and see him now, so that you can make your preparations.’
Lizzie left Archie asleep in the Land Rover. Esther opened the door and her look of dismay mortified Lizzie, although she had always been aware that Andrew’s last-minute exchange of would-be wives had caused Esther almost as much heartache and humiliation as it had caused Lizzie. People had condemned Esther for sleeping with a man who was engaged to another woman. They had judged her even harder for falling pregnant and thereby forcing the affair into the open and some locals had ignored Esther ever since.
Andrew sprang up from the kitchen table while Lizzie carried out introductions whereupon Cesare startled her by taking charge. ‘Lizzie and I are leaving for London tonight—we’re getting married,’ he explained. ‘Lizzie wants to know if you’ll take her sheep.’
Lizzie saw the surprise and relief darting across Esther’s face and looked away again, her own colour high. Esther would be glad to see her leave the neighbourhood and she didn’t feel she could really blame the other woman for that, not after the way people had treated her.
‘This is a surprise and it calls for a celebration,’ Andrew pronounced with genuine pleasure. ‘I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone, Lizzie.’
Home-made peach wine was produced. Cesare found it sickly sweet but he appreciated the sentiment while he watched and read his companions and made certain interesting deductions. Andrew Brook appeared fond of Lizzie but no more than that. Indeed his every look of warmth was for his wife, who was a rather plain, plump young woman who couldn’t hold a candle to Lizzie in the looks department. Lizzie, on the other hand, Cesare could not read at all. She chatted but was clearly eager to leave as soon as was polite.
‘Are you planning to enlighten me yet?’ Cesare drawled when they returned to the Land Rover, his Italian accent licking round the edges of every syllable in the sexiest way imaginable.
Lizzie was bitterly amused by that stray thought when she didn’t do sex or even know what sexy was. That had lain at the heart of her disastrous relationship with Andrew when she had learned that she was simply one of those women who did not like to be touched. She had assumed—wrongly—when she agreed to marry him that her own response would naturally change as time went on and they became closer. But that hadn’t happened and her feelings hadn’t changed.
‘Andrew had an affair with Esther while we were engaged and she got pregnant. We broke up six weeks before our wedding day and he married her the following month. They’re very happy together,’ Lizzie explained flatly. ‘That means I’ve got an unused wedding gown in my wardrobe, so I’ll bring that down to London.’
‘No!’ Cesare sliced in with innate distaste. ‘I will buy you another dress.’
‘But that’s silly and wasteful when there’s no need for it!’ Lizzie reasoned in bafflement.
‘If we are trying to persuade my family that this is a genuine marriage, you will need a designer gown with all the usual trimmings.’
‘But how could anyone possibly believe it was genuine? We’re chalk and cheese and we only just met.’
‘You’ll be enjoying a full makeover in London and only my father knows when we first met. By the time I’m finished with you, they will believe, cara,’ Cesare insisted.
‘And what if I don’t want a makeover?’
‘If you want to be convincing in the role you’re being paid to take, you don’t have a choice,’ Cesare told her softly. Of course she wanted a makeover, he thought grimly, unconvinced by her show of reluctance. She was willing to do just about anything for money. Hadn’t she already demonstrated the fact? She was prepared to become a mother simply to sell the island to him. But then to be fair, he acknowledged, he was willing to become a father to buy Lionos although, in his case, he had additional and far more presentable motives.
What was the use of working so hard when he had no heir to follow him? What easier way could he acquire a child to inherit his empire? He had seen too many marriages explode into the bitterness and division of divorce, heard too many stories about children traumatised by their parents splitting up. The will had given him a chance to avoid that kind of fallout and the imprisonment of taking ‘for ever after’ vows with one woman. A marriage that was a marriage only on paper and a child born prior to a low-key civilised divorce would suit Cesare’s needs very nicely indeed.
Out of Cesare’s response, only one phrase assailed Lizzie: you’re being paid. It was an unwelcome but timely reminder and she chewed at her full lower lip, restraining a tart response. Hopefully within a couple of months he would have no further use for her and she would get her life back and, even more hopefully, a life that would stretch to include the sheer joy of becoming a mother for the first time. When that time came, maybe she would be able to find some sort of work training course and accommodation near Chrissie. Or maybe that was a bad idea, she reflected uneasily, suspecting that her sibling had the right to her independence without a big sister hovering protectively somewhere nearby.
‘A moment before we go inside...’ Cesare breathed, striding round the bonnet of the rusty farm vehicle.
A frown drew Lizzie’s brows together as she hovered by the back door. When he reached out and tugged her close, Lizzie was so taken aback that she simply froze. His hands came up to frame her cheekbones and she gazed up into glittering golden eyes that reflected the lights shining out from the farmhouse windows, her nostrils flaring on the faint fresh scent of his cologne and the underlying hint of clean, fresh man.
At that point while she was mulling over why he smelled so good to her, Cesare lowered his proud dark head and kissed her. Lizzie stopped breathing in shock, electrified by the sensation and taste of his firm sensual mouth on hers with her heart hammering and her pulse racing as if she were riding a Big Dipper at an amusement park. He nibbled her lower lip and thunder crashed in her ears, the earth literally moving when he swiped his tongue along her full lower lip in an erotic flick that made her quiver like a jelly.