Claiming His Scandalous Love-Child Read online

That was what she had to make herself remember.

  Now, as she stood beside him in this glittering environment of luxury hotels and high society, she could hear that voice inside her head. For, however intoxicatingly romantic it had been to waft across Europe in Vito’s arms, feeling herself headily on the brink of something she had never before felt for a man, there were still questions she could not blind herself to.

  Can I trust my own feelings? How real are they? And what does he feel for me?

  Oh, he desired her—there was no doubt about that, no doubt at all! But was that all he felt? Certainly now, as he glanced down at her, she saw the warm glint in his eyes and knew that desire was real, burningly real—in her, as well as in him. Desire such as she’d never felt before for a man.

  ‘Eloise?’

  Vito’s voice, his soft, oh-so-sexy Italian accent that always made her breath catch, set aside her thoughts.

  ‘They’re serving supper—let’s go through.’

  Together they walked into the adjoining salon, where a lavish buffet supper had been laid out. A woman glided up to Vito—a few years older than Eloise, more Vito’s age, immaculately gowned in a clinging designer number in blonde satin that matched the pale blonde of her hair. It was their hostess, holding this evening party at the Viscari Nice to which, of course, Vito had been invited.

  It had not taken Eloise long to realise that Vito moved in high society circles—not just in Rome, but in all the sophisticated, cosmopolitan places where rich people gathered. His looks, his wealth, his background all made him a favourite—as did his bachelor status. That last, she was only too aware, drew women to him like moths to a flame. Including, so it seemed, their hostess tonight.

  ‘Vito—cherie! How lovely that you’re here for my little party! I must drag you away some time to talk over old times together!’

  The woman’s wide smile passed from Vito to flicker over Eloise. The pale blue eyes glittered with a hint of frost.

  ‘So, you are our gorgeous Vito’s latest, are you? How he loves beautiful blondes!’

  She gave a tinkling laugh, and glided off.

  Vito looked down at Eloise, a rueful expression in his eyes. ‘Mi dispiace,’ he said. ‘Stephanie was quite some time ago—long gone, I promise you!’

  Eloise smiled forgivingly. It didn’t bother her, and nor did any of the attention that other women lavished on Vito. Oh, he was charming and polite to all of them, but Eloise knew that the sensual glint of desire in his eyes was for her and her alone.

  But will it last? Being the woman in Vito’s life?

  An invisible tremor went through her. One day would she be the next Stephanie? The next beautiful blonde ex?

  Or was something else growing between them? Something that would mean much more to both of them? Could there be?

  Again, the questions hovered in her mind. Seeking answers that it was too soon for her to give. Reminding her of the need for caution where her heart was concerned.

  Hadn’t her mother fallen head over heels in love, committed herself in marriage on a whirlwind of romance, only to find out too late how deeply incompatible she and her husband were on matters that were of profound importance to them both? A discovery that had torn them apart and lost their daughter her father.

  I mustn’t make the same mistake. It would be so easy to tell myself I’m in love with Vito! Especially when I’m living this kind of dream existence...one gorgeous hotel after another!

  But his European tour would be completed soon, for it was all part of Vito making his mark in his new role as head of Viscari Hotels. It was a role he’d been jettisoned into at the young age of only thirty-one, after the unexpected death of his father.

  ‘I’ve had to step into large shoes,’ he’d told Eloise, his face shadowed. ‘I’m the only Viscari left—the only one to carry on the legacy. It all rests on me now. I can’t let my father down.’

  Had there been a tension in his voice that was more than grief for his lost father? But all he had gone on to say was how Viscari Hotels had been founded by his great-grandfather, the redoubtable Ettore Viscari, at the end of the nineteenth century, during the heyday of luxury hotels. He had then passed it on to his son, and thence to his two grandsons—Vito’s father, Enrico, and Vito’s childless uncle Guido.

  It had been Guido who’d overseen a major expansion of the chain across the globe, as more and more international locations had become fashionable destinations for the rich clientele the hotels catered to.

  Now, as the fourth generation of the Viscari family, it was clear to Eloise, that Vito was pressingly conscious of the legacy he had been left to run, and of the demands it made on him—including much of his social life, as it was this evening and all the evenings since she’d been with him.

  ‘All this socialising with people who are or who will be guests at the hotels is unavoidable,’ he said now. ‘But, however wearing it gets, I can never let it show.’ The shadows had left Vito’s face. ‘Your being with me makes it so much less onerous!’

  It lifted her heart to hear him say such things, and she felt a familiar little thrill go through her—a thrill that was accentuated when, as he helped her to a plate of delicious food, she saw a telltale glint in Vito’s dark, lustrous eyes.

  Soon—oh, very soon—he would murmur his farewells to their hostess for the evening, take his leave of the other guests smoothly, courteously, and then whisk Eloise away to his suite to have her entirely to himself! To indulge in a night of exquisite, sensual bliss...

  A tremor of anticipation went through her. Making love with Vito was like nothing she had ever known! His skilled, sensitive touch could bring her to an ecstasy that left her breathless, took her soaring into a stratosphere she had never known existed—and that seemed to sweep away all her questions and wariness about her headlong romance with him.

  As she lay in his arms later, her heart beating like a wild bird, she felt emotion pour through her. Felt full of longing...

  Oh, Vito—be the one for me! Be the one man for me!

  It was so easy—so dangerously easy—to believe that he was that one man she could love.

  But dare I believe it? Dare I?

  She could not answer—only knew in those moments that above all else she longed to dare. Longed to believe he was the man for her. Longed to let herself love him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  VITO EASED THE throttle and settled down into a cruising speed along the autostrada. They’d just passed the Franco-Italian border at Mentone and were heading to his next stop, the Viscari San Remo, along the Riviera dei Fiori.

  It had been a crowded morning, meeting with his managers at the Monte Carlo Viscari, outlining his strategy, addressing their specific issues, taking in their input and feedback. That had been followed by a working lunch, and only now, in mid-afternoon, were they travelling on. Heading back into Italy.

  He was filled with mixed emotions. It was good to be back in his homeland after weeks out of the country, that was for certain, and yet he was all too aware that his extensive European tour—necessary though it had been—had been something he’d welcomed for quite different reasons than simply to make his mark as the new head of the company with his management teams.

  It had got him out of Rome. Given him a lengthy break away from the city and the complications that it contained. Complications he could well do without.

  Automatically, his mouth tightened. Those complications still awaited him, and in a couple of days they would be in the forefront of his life again. Somehow he would have to deal with them.

  But not yet.

  Deliberately, he shook them from his thoughts. No need to spoil these last few carefree days—not when he had Eloise at his side.

  Eloise! He turned to glance at her, and as his eyes lit briefly on her beautiful profile he felt his spirits lighten. How totally and absolutely glad he was to have followed through on that first overpowering instinct that had speared him as he’d raised her to her feet from the concourse a
t Heathrow airport.

  Of course it had been her glowing blonde beauty that had first captivated him—how could he possibly have resisted such a gift! He’d always had a passion for blondes, ever since he’d been a teenager, first discovering the enticements of the opposite sex, and as he’d looked down at the gorgeous, long-legged, golden-haired beauty who’d been gazing up at him with celestial blue eyes out of a face that was as gorgeous as the rest of her, he’d been instantly smitten.

  The immediate desire he’d felt for her then had been richly fulfilled in Paris, and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to continue his European tour with her at his side. With every new destination he’d reaffirmed how right he’d been. For it was clear to him that it was not merely Eloise’s stunning looks that were so captivating. Unlike so many of his previous inamoratas—the elegant Stephanie in Nice, for example—Eloise was possessed of a sweetness of nature he had not encountered before. She was never capricious, never demanding, never out of temper. Her sunny mood seemed constant, and she was always willing and complaisant, easy-going and smiling, happy to do whatever he wanted to do.

  He had never known another woman like her.

  His eyes went back to the road ahead. There was a slight question in his expression now. In a couple of days they’d be in Rome.

  Will we still be together?

  Or would it be time to end their affair? In his many previous love affairs it had always been he who’d moved on, bidding his lover a graceful farewell before waiting for the next beautiful blonde to cross his path and catch his interest. He’d enjoyed every affair, had been faithful and attentive during the course of each one, but when he’d ended them he’d had no regrets about knowing it had run its course.

  A frown shadowed his eyes. Would it always be like that? One easy affair after another? Until—

  Until what? What is it that I want?

  It wasn’t a question he’d ever posed to himself so insistently. Yet he knew the answer to it all the same. Maybe he’d always known it.

  I want to find a woman I can love as deeply as my father loved my mother!

  That, he knew, was what had always been his goal. But was it attainable?

  Maybe that’s why I play the field—because I don’t want to be disappointed in love. I fear the impossibility of making a marriage that was as happy as my parents’ marriage.

  A shaft of sadness went through him. Yes, his parents had been supremely happy together, and he, their only child, had had the benefit of it—had been adored by both of them. Now there was a rueful expression in his eyes. Maybe even a little spoilt.

  But Vito knew that knowing he was the apple of his parents’ eyes had also made him supremely conscious of his sense of responsibility towards them—to be worthy of their devoted love for him. That shaft of sadness came again...and something more. Since his father’s untimely death life had not been easy—not for his stricken mother. Her widowing had been cruel indeed, and Vito knew that the haunted look of grief in her eyes would never leave her.

  But maybe when I marry—give her a grandchild? Then she might be happy again!

  Who would be his bride, though? Again, his eyes flickered to Eloise, his expression questioning.

  What is she to me—and what do I want her to be? Could she truly be the woman who will come to mean everything to me?

  He did not know and could not tell. Not yet. Not until they reached Rome and there was an end to this constant travelling. For now, he would just continue to enjoy their time together.

  ‘Did you know,’ he said smiling, ‘that San Remo is renowned for its flower market? And that every year the city sends its finest blooms to Vienna, to adorn the annual New Year’s Day concert?’

  ‘How lovely!’ Eloise’s smile was as warm as ever. ‘I’ve always adored watching that concert on TV. All those Strauss waltzes! And I’ll never forget the night we spent in Vienna!’ Her smile widened. ‘Tell me more about San Remo,’ she invited.

  With her cerulean blue eyes fixed smilingly upon him, Vito was only too happy to oblige.

  * * *

  Their stay in San Remo was fleeting, and soon they were driving on towards Genoa, before turning south towards Portofino, and then the pretty villages of the Cinque Terre and the Tuscan coastline. Rome was only a day away now.

  As they neared the city Eloise could feel her mood changing. These last few days with Vito it seemed her ardency in his passionate embrace had been even more intense than ever. She had clung to him as if she would never let him go.

  But I don’t want to let him go! I don’t want this to end. I want to stay with him.

  That was the emotion that was distilling within her as every passing kilometre brought them nearer to Rome. And when they finally entered the city, as she watched Vito tangling with its infamous traffic with long familiarity, she could feel that emotion intensifying.

  Will he take me to his apartment? she wondered, as they drove into the Centro Storico, where all Rome’s most famous landmarks and sights were.

  But she realised they were pulling up outside the Viscari Roma—the original Viscari Hotel. Vito was telling her about its history, and she could hear the pride in his voice as he did so—could see how eagerly he was greeted as they made their way towards an elevator that whisked them up to what had originally been the attics, now redesigned as a penthouse suite.

  Eloise let Vito lead her out on to a little roof terrace, gazing out at the city beyond.

  ‘Roma!’ He sighed, sliding an arm around her waist and pointing out the famous landmarks that could be glimpsed, and the outline of the fabled seven hills—they looked low, to Eloise’s eyes, but she marked them fondly all the same, for they were dear to Vito.

  And he is dear to me.

  The thought was clear in her head, catching at her consciousness. Making her lean into him even more, wrap her arm around his strong, lean waist. He turned to her, gazing down at her, and in his dark, long-lashed eyes Eloise saw desire, felt her own body respond as his mouth swooped to graze her tender lips, parting to his.

  It did not take them long to make their way indoors again and take full advantage of the privacy and luxury of the penthouse’s master bedroom.

  ‘Welcome to Rome, my sweetest Eloise,’ was Vito’s soft murmur as he swept her away.

  And all thoughts as to why Vito had brought her to yet another hotel instead of his own apartment, even though he was in his home city, fled from her utterly in the heady passion of his lovemaking.

  * * *

  Vito frowned, setting down the phone abruptly and swinging restlessly and with displeasure in the leather chair at his desk in his office. Accidenti, this was not what he wanted! Yet his mother had been adamant.

  ‘You absolutely have to be there tonight,’ she’d said, her tones strained.

  But attending the function as his mother was insisting was the last thing he wanted to do—let alone on his first evening back in Rome after so long an absence. What he wanted to do—the way he wanted to spend the evening—was quite different!

  To show Eloise Rome by night...

  His expression softened. Eloise! Just thinking about her cheered his mood—a mood that had been tightening all day as he’d caught up on corporate affairs here at his head office. He’d wanted the evening off, to spend with Eloise, but now he’d be on show as the head of the Viscari family, no longer only the heir apparent while his uncle and father ran the business between them. Now everything rested only on him—the whole future of Viscari Hotels.

  A bleak, painful look showed in Vito’s eyes. He leant back in his chair. His father’s chair. Four generations had preceded him. And they had created and held on to the legacy that now rested upon his shoulders and his alone.

  Except... His eyes darkened now. That legacy was not his alone...

  Vito’s hands gripped the arms of his chair. What had possessed his uncle Guido to leave his half of the Viscari shares not to his nephew—as had been the long-held understanding in
the family, given Guido’s lack of children of his own—but to his widow? That disastrous decision had, Vito knew, contributed to his father’s heart condition, hastening his premature end fifteen months ago, when he’d been frustrated in his attempts to buy back Guido’s shares from his widow Marlene.

  Vito knew his parents had always considered her a social-climbing interloper into the Viscari family, hungry for power and influence. And that was why, Vito surmised, Marlene was adamantly refusing to sell her inherited shares, despite the handsome premium offered to her.

  His eyes hardened to pinpoints. It was the same reason that lay behind Marlene’s most persistent and ludicrous fixation.

  When she had married Guido, ten years ago, she had arrived from England with her teenage daughter Carla in tow, and ever since Guido’s death one obsession had dominated her. One way for her to cement her position in the Viscari family permanently.

  Dream on, thought Vito, his mouth thinning. Marlene could have all the dreams she liked, but she would never achieve her ambition—her ludicrous, fantasy-driven ambition.

  Vito was adamant. She was never, however much she wanted it, going to get him to marry her daughter.

  * * *

  As Vito walked into their suite at the Viscari Roma Eloise’s eyes lit up. She got off the sofa and hurried to him to kiss him.

  ‘Miss me?’ asked Vito, smiling, throwing himself down on the sofa, loosening his tie and slipping open his top button with relief.

  Dio, it was good to see Eloise again, even after the space of only a few hours, and he felt his spirits lift, shifting the pressure that had settled over him after his mother’s phone call.

  ‘Beer?’ Eloise asked, crossing to the built-in bar.

  ‘Definitely,’ Vito said gratefully. ‘What would I do without you?’ he asked appreciatively, taking a first cold, reviving mouthful.

  ‘Fetch your own beer!’ She laughed, nestling into him as he lifted his free arm to draw her against him more closely.

  He laughed in return, a carefree sound, stretching out his long legs in front of him. At his side Eloise relaxed into him and his arm around her tightened. The soft expression in her beautiful blue eyes was a balm to his troubled thoughts of the evening’s ordeal ahead and what lay beyond.