The Innocent's Secret Baby(15)

     



 

And it was in the shower, with space between them, that Lydia pondered what she had been about to say.

He's not you.

With Bastiano there was no attraction. Had it been Raul whom her family  were trying to match-make her with she'd have been embarrassed, yes, and  annoyed, perhaps, and yet there would have been excitement and  trepidation too.

She liked Raul far more than it was safe to let on.

* * *

And Raul liked Lydia.

A lot.

That feeling was rare.

Mornings were never his strong point-generally he preferred women who  dressed in the dark and were gone. He wasn't proud of that fact, just  honest, as he examined his usual wants. Yet this morning he was lying  listening to Lydia in the shower and trying to resist joining her.

And again she had surprised him.

Lydia was tough.

There had been no tears, no pleas for help or for him to get involved.  In fact she had actively discouraged it when he had offered to step in  and deal with Maurice.

There was a level of independence to her that he had seen in few and he did not want her to be gone.

And, more honestly, he wanted to be her first.

It had nothing to do with Bastiano.

In fact Raul wanted her well away from here.

He was wondering if he could give Lydia what she wanted.

The romantic trip to Italy she craved.

He could do that for a day, surely?

Raul didn't look over at her when Lydia came out from the bathroom and  went through to the lounge. There she found her case and pulled out an  outfit.

Lydia chose the nice cream dress she had brought for sightseeing and some flat sandals.

Her hair was a bit of a disaster, but she had left her adaptor in her  hotel room, so there was no point dragging out her straighteners.

Lydia made do and smoothed it as best she could. She could hear Raul making some calls on his phone and commencing his day.

She had been but a brief interlude, Lydia knew. And so she checked that  her sunglasses were in her purse and then walked back into the  bedroom-and there he lay. He was even more beautiful now than when she  had met him.

Then Raul had been in a suit and clean-shaven.

A mystery.

Now he lay in bed with his hands behind his head, thinking. She knew,  because she had lain beside him all night, that he was naked save the  sheet that barely covered him. He was unshaven and his eyes seemed heavy  from sleep as he turned and looked at her.

And the more that she knew, the more of a mystery he was.

This was regret, Lydia thought.

That he could so easily let her go.

And how did she walk away? Lydia wondered.

How did she go over and kiss that sulky mouth and say goodbye when really she wanted to climb back into bed?

How did she accept that she would never know how it felt to be made love to by him?

But rather than reveal her thoughts she flicked that internal default switch which had been permanently set to 'polite'.

'Thank you so much for last night.'

'I haven't finished being your tour guide yet.'

He stretched out his arm and held out his hand, but Lydia didn't go  over. She did not want to let in hope, so she just stood there as Raul  spoke.

'It would be remiss of me to let you go home without seeing Venice as it should be seen.'

'Venice?'

Oh, she repeated his offer only because she was mystified. She'd been  preparing to leave with her head held high, but then, when she had least  expected it, he'd offered more.

So much more.

'I like to call it by its other name-La Serenissima,' Raul said. 'It means the Most Serene.'

'That's not how I remember my time there.'

'Then you have a chance to change that. I'm heading there today. Why  don't you come with me? Fly out of Marco Polo tomorrow instead.'

There was another night between now and then, and Lydia knew that even  while he offered her an extension he made it clear there was a cut-off.

Time added on for good behaviour.

And Raul's version of 'good behaviour' was that there would be no tears  or drama as she walked away. Lydia knew that. If she were to accept his  offer, then she had to remember that.

'I'd like that.' The calm of her voice belied the trembling she felt inside. 'It sounds wonderful.'

'Only if you're sure,' Raul added.

'Of course.'

But how could she be sure of anything now she had set foot in Raul's world?

He made her dizzy.

Disorientated.

Not just her head, but every cell in her body seemed to be spinning as  he hauled himself from the bed and unlike Lydia, with her sheet-covered  dash to the bathroom, his body was hers to view.

And that blasted default switch was stuck, because Lydia did the right thing and averted her eyes.

Yet he didn't walk past. Instead Raul walked right over to her and stood in front of her.         

     



 

She could feel the heat-not just from his naked body but her own-and it felt as if her dress might disintegrate.

He put his fingers on her chin, tilted her head so that she met his  eyes, and it killed that he did not kiss her, nor drag her back to his  bed. Instead he checked again. 'Are you sure?'

'Of course,' Lydia said, and tried to make light of it. 'I never say no to a free trip.'

It was a joke-a teeny reference to the very reason she was here in  Rome-but it put her in an unflattering light. She was about to correct  herself, to say that it hadn't come out as she had meant, but then she  saw his slight smile and it spelt approval.

A gold-digger he could handle, Lydia realised.

Her emerging feelings for him-perhaps not.

At every turn her world changed, and she fought for a semblance of  control. Fought to convince not just Raul but herself that she could  handle this.

* * *

They were driven right up to his jet, and his pilot and crew were waiting on the runway to greet them.

'Do you always have a jet on standby?' Lydia asked.

'Always.'

'What's wrong with first class?' Lydia asked, refusing to appear too impressed.

'When children are banned from first class, then I'll consider commercial flights.'

He wouldn't!

Raul liked his privacy, as well as his own staff.

Inside the plane was just as luxurious as the hotel they had come from,  and very soon there was take-off and she looked out of the window and  watched Rome disappear beneath them.

Lydia felt free.

Excited, nervous, but finally free.

'I travel a lot.' Raul explained the real reason for his plane. 'And, as  you saw this morning, my schedule is prone to change. Having my own jet  shaves hours off my working week.'

'How did you do all this?' Lydia asked.

'I received an inheritance when my mother died.'

'Your family was rich?'

'No.'

He thought back to Casta. They had been comfortable financially,  compared to some, but it had been dirty money and always quickly spent.

Neither the Di Savo nor the Conti wineries had ever really taken off.

And then he thought of him and Bastiano, drinking the wine together and laughing at how disgusting it tasted.

They had been such good friends.

In the anger and hate that had fuelled him for years, Raul had forgotten that part.

It would serve him better not to remember it now.

Bastiano was the enemy, and he reminded himself of that when he spoke next.

'My mother had some money from her brother. She left half to her lover  and half to me. It was enough for me to buy the flat I was renting. Then  I took out a mortgage on one across the floor and rented it out. I kept  going like that. You were right-developers did come in, and they made  me an offer that I should not have been able to refuse.'

'But you did?'

'Yes. If they could see the potential, then so could I. One of the  owners upstairs had done some refurbishing, and I watched and learnt. By  then I had four studio apartments, and I turned them into two more  luxurious ones... It had always been an amazing location, but now it was  a desirable address. A few years later the other owner and I got the  backing to turn it into a hotel. I bought him out in the end. I wanted  it for myself. That was always the end game.'

'You used him?'

'Of course,' Raul said. 'That's what I do.'

He didn't care if that put him in an unflattering light.

Better that she know.

'Do you go back often?' Lydia asked. 'To Sicily?'

Raul shook his head. 'I haven't been back since my mother's funeral.

'Don't you miss it?' Lydia pushed.

'There is nothing there for me to miss.'

'You didn't go back for your father's funeral?' Lydia checked.

'No. He was already dead to me.'

'But even so-'

'Should I pretend to care?' Raul interrupted.

Lydia didn't know how to answer that. In her family appearances were  everything, and there was a constant demand to be seen to do the right  thing.

Raul lived by rules of his own.

'No,' she answered finally.

Her response was the truth-she could think of nothing worse than Raul pretending to care and her believing in his lies.

Better to know from the start that this was just temporary, for when he  removed her from his life she really would be gone for good.

'Do you want to change for dinner?'

'Dinner?' Lydia checked, and then she looked at the sun, too low in the sky. The day was running away from them already.

And soon, Lydia knew, it would be her turn to be the one left behind.         

     



 





CHAPTER EIGHT

LYDIA HAD BEEN in two different bedrooms belonging to Raul.

One at the hotel.

The other on his plane.

Tonight would make it three.