The Innocent's Secret Baby(7)

He didn't have to try hard to guess who the other was-not that Alim let on.

Raul had done his homework, and he knew that Alim was not just an astute businessman but very discreet in all his dealings.

He would have to be.

Allegra, Raul's long-suffering PA, had found out all she could on him.

Sultan Alim was a playboy, and his palace's PR must be on overtime to keep his decadent ways out of the press.

Alim kissed but never told, and in return the silence of his aggrieved lovers was paid for in diamonds.

And in business he played his cards close to his chest.

The latter Raul could attest to, for Alim did not bend to any of Raul's mercurial ways.

By the end of a very long day Raul was still no closer to finding out the real reason for the sale.

Alim had dismissed his team and was taking Raul for one final look around.

'I haven't seen Bastiano,' Raul commented as the elevator arrived to  take them down to the function rooms. When Alim did not respond, Raul  pushed. 'I see that his guests are already here.'

Still Alim gave nothing away. 'I shall take you now to the ballroom.'

Raul had no choice but to accept his silence.

He knew that Alim and Bastiano were friends, and in turn Alim would know  that Raul and Bastiano were business rivals and enemies.

So, instead of trying to find out more about Bastiano, Raul returned his mind to work.

'Why?' Raul asked Sultan Alim as they walked along the lush corridors. 'Why are you selling?'

'I've already answered that,' Sultan Alim said. 'I am to marry soon and I am moving my portfolio back to the Middle East.'

'I want the real reason.'

Alim halted mid-stride and turned to face Raul as he spoke.

'You have several hotels throughout Europe that you aren't letting go, yet this jewel you are.'

'You're correct,' Alim said. 'Hotel Grande Lucia is a jewel.'

As Raul frowned, Alim gave a nod that told Raul he would explain some more.

'Come and see this.'

They stepped into the grand ballroom, where a dark-haired woman, dressed  in a dark suit that was rather too tight, was standing in the middle of  the dance floor.

Just standing.

Her shoes must be a little tight too, for she was holding stilettos in one hand.

'Is everything okay, Gabi?' Alim asked her.

'Oh!' Clearly she hadn't heard them come in, because she startled but  then pushed out a smile. 'Yes, everything is fine. I was just trying to  work out the table plan for Saturday.'

'We have a large wedding coming up,' Alim explained to Raul.

'And both sets of parents are twice divorced.' Gabi gave a slight  eye-roll and then chatted away as she bent to put on her shoes. 'Trying  to work out where everyone should be seated is proving-'

'Gabi!' Alim scolded, and then turned to Raul. 'Gabi is not on my staff.  They tend to be rather more discreet.' He waved his hand, but this time  it was to dismiss her. 'Excuse us, please.'

Alim, who had until now been exceptionally pleasant with all his staff,  was less than polite now. Raul watched as a very put-out Gabi flounced  from the ballroom.         

     



 

'She is a wedding planner from an outside firm,' Alim said, to explain  the indiscretion. 'My staff would never discuss clients that way in  front of a visitor.'

'Of course.' Raul nodded as the huge entrance doors closed loudly, and  he resisted raising his eyebrows as the crystals in the chandeliers  responded to the pointed slam.

It was actually rather spectacular to watch.

The reflection of the low, late-afternoon sun was captured by several  thousand crystals, and for a moment it was as if it was raining sunbeams  as light danced across the walls and the ceiling and the floor-even  over their suits.

'It's a beautiful ballroom,' Raul commented as he looked around, though  he was unsure exactly why Alim had brought him here instead of to a  meeting room, when it was figures that Raul wanted to discuss.

'When I bought the hotel those had not been cleaned in years,' Alim  said, gesturing to the magnificent lights. 'Now they are taken down and  cared for properly. It is a huge undertaking. The room has to be closed,  so no functions can be held, and it is all too easy to put it off.'

Raul could see that it would be, but he did not get involved in such details and told Alim so.

'I leave all that to my managers to organise,' Raul said.

Alim nodded. 'Usually I do too, but when I took over the Grande Lucia  there had been many cost-cutting measures. It was slowly turning into  just another hotel. It is not just the lighting in the ballroom, of  course. What I am trying to explain is that this hotel has become more  than an investment to me. Once I return to my homeland I shall not be  able to give it the attention it deserves.'

'The next owner might not either,' Raul pointed out.

'That is his business. But while the hotel is mine I want no part in her demise.'

Raul knew he was now hearing the true reason for the sale. To keep this  hotel to its current standard would be a huge undertaking, and one that  Raul would play no major part in-he would delegate that. Perhaps he'd do  so more carefully, given what he had been told. But at the end of the  day managers managed, and Raul had neither the time nor the inclination  to be that heavily involved.

'Now you have given me pause for thought,' Raul admitted.

'Good.' Alim smiled. 'The Grande Lucia deserves the best caretaker.  Please,' Alim said, indicating that their long day of meetings had come  to an end, 'take all the time you need to look around and to enjoy the  rest of your stay.'

Sultan Alim excused himself and Raul stood in the empty ballroom,  watching the light dancing around the walls like a shower of stars.

He thought of home.

And he understood Alim's concerns.

Last year Raul had purchased a stunning Venetian Gothic palazzo on the Grand Canal.

It required more than casual upkeep.

The house was run by Loretta-the woman who had warned his mother of Gino's imminent return home all those years ago.

She ran the staff-and there were many.

Raul looked around the ballroom at the intricate cornices and arched windows.

Yes, he knew what Alim was talking about. But this was a hotel, not a home.

Raul would play no part in her demise.

He was going to pass.

So there was no need to linger.

His mind went back to that morning and he hoped very much that Lydia  would be there to meet him tonight-not just to score a point over  Bastiano and to rot up his plans.

Raul had enjoyed her company.

* * *

His company was not for keeps.

Lydia knew that.

She sat in her button-up dress in the hairdresser's at four and asked  for a French roll, but the hairdresser tutted, picked up a long coil of  blonde and suggested-or rather, strongly suggested-curls. After some  hesitation finally Lydia agreed.

Whatever had happened to her this morning, it was still occurring.

She felt as if she were shedding her skin, and at every turn she fought to retrieve it.

Her lashes were darkened, and then Lydia opened her eyes when the beautician spoke.

'Porpora...'

Lydia did not know that word, but as the beautician pushed up a lipstick  Lydia managed, without translation, to work out what it meant.

Crimson.

'No.' Lydia shook her head and insisted on a more neutral shade.

Oh, Lydia wanted to be back in her cocoon-she was a very unwilling  butterfly indeed-but she did buy the lipstick, and on her way back to  the hotel she stopped at the boutique and bought the red dress.

And then she entered the complex world of sexy shoes.

Lydia had bought a neutral pair to go with the caramel dress and thought she was done. But...

'Red and red,' the assistant insisted.

'I think neutral would look better.'         

     



 

'You need these shoes.'

Oh, Lydia was starting to take advice from strangers for she tried them  on. They were low-heeled and slender and a little bit strappy.

'It's too much,' Lydia said, but both women knew she was not protesting at the price.

'No, no,' the assistant said. 'Trust me-these are right.'

Oh, Lydia didn't trust her.

But she bought them anyway.

For him.

Or rather to one day dress up alone to the memory of him.

As she arrived back at the hotel Lydia looked at the restaurant across  the street, to the roped-off section and the table he had reserved for  them.

Of course he wasn't there yet.

Yet.

Knowing he would be-knowing she could be-made tonight somehow worse.

Her mother called, but she let it go to voicemail.

A pep talk wasn't required.

Lydia didn't need to be told that everything hinged on tonight. That the  castle was at the very end of the line and that it would come down to  her actions tonight to save it.

She had a shallow bath, so as not to mess up her new curls, and as she  washed she tried to remind herself how good-looking Bastiano was.

Even his scar did not mar his good looks.

He had been attending a wedding when they'd first met.

Maybe this time when he kissed her she would know better how to respond.

Try as she might, though, she couldn't keep her focus on Bastiano. Her thoughts strayed to Raul.

With a sob of frustration Lydia hauled herself out of the bath and dried herself.

In a last-ditch attempt, Lydia rang Arabella. Searching for an excuse-any excuse-to get out of this meeting tonight.

'Lydia!' Arabella was brusque. 'I meant to call you. You didn't say it was this weekend you were in Rome.'

Of course Lydia had.