The British Billionaire's Innocent Bride Read online

  Of course Lily realised it. And it was thanks to her seeking out her past—with help from the Salvation Army—that she’d eventually discovered she had a sibling. Their now-deceased mother had borne them both before she herself was seventeen years old.

  Lily was honest enough to admit that her ignorance of her early life was probably her own fault… She’d been a rebellious, difficult child, passed from one home to another, one foster family to another—and she’d run away twice. It was no wonder everyone had got confused, including the agencies responsible for her welfare. Her personal details had seemed permanently lost somewhere in the system, and by the time she’d reached sixteen and gone on to train at catering college everyone had been glad to be shot of her. But Lily had an instinctive sense of survival, and had worked hard at the course, and at the jobs she’d subsequently got, finally revelling in the purchase of her tiny flat, her first very own private space, where no one could tell her what to do. At last she was in charge of her own life, her own destiny. And that was how it was going to stay. Always.

  Sam, apparently, had been different. He’d told Lily how happy he’d been growing up, behaving himself and always doing as he was told by his foster carers. But he hadn’t known, either, that he had any family. When he and Lily had come face to face at last their blood tie had swallowed up those lost years and they’d fallen into each other’s arms with hardly any self-consciousness.

  ‘I think a coffee is all I can manage, too, Sam,’ Lily said now. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another thing for the rest of the day.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll make room for supper later,’ Sam assured her. ‘No one eats here until nine or ten o’clock in any case. There’ll be plenty of time for you to work up an appetite.’

  After lunch they sauntered back along the sun-hot pavements, searching out the cool shade of buildings to walk beneath whenever they could.

  ‘I think I’ll pamper myself and have a siesta this afternoon,’ Lily said.

  ‘Good idea. And I’ve some paperwork to go through with Federico, so that’ll suit us both,’ Sam replied easily.

  The small hotel—with a mere four bedrooms—was situated in a narrow lane just off Piazza Navona, and Lily had been allocated a chic room at the front. It was well-appointed and comfortable, and she flopped down on the bed, kicking off her sandals and laying back languidly. She’d changed out of her suit as soon as she’d arrived, and was wondering whether the small amount of clothes she’d brought was going to see her through her three-night stay. She shrugged happily. If she ran out of clothes she’d buy some more! She’d never been an extravagant shopper—she’d never had the money—but, hey, she was on holiday, and she was in Rome! There were no frontiers, nothing to hold back her glorious sense of freedom.

  To her amazement, when she woke up Lily realized that she’d been asleep for nearly three hours! She hadn’t come here to sleep, she thought. She’d come here to enjoy herself, to explore Rome—as well, of course, as meeting up with her brother.

  Sliding off the bed, she went into the bathroom to shower. Although Sam’s hotel was air-conditioned, there was a distinct sense of the pervading sultry heat outside, so choosing what to wear would be easy. She’d put on the cream cotton sleeveless sundress with the low neck, she decided. It wouldn’t matter if it was still a bit creased—although she’d hung it up as soon as she’d arrived—because who was going to notice her, anyway?

  She dressed and brushed out her hair, tying it back in a ponytail. Then she moisturised her face, adding sunblock but no make-up. She knew she was lucky with her complexion which, although fair-skinned, seemed to have an olive under-layer which saved her from burning or freckling. She added just a touch of blusher and lipstick and went downstairs.

  There was no sign of her brother, but Federico was on duty, and he came over at once to greet her with the typical approach of the Italian male when meeting a woman. He took her hand and kissed it gently, looking down at her appreciatively with his dusky, bedroom eyes.

  ‘Ah…Lileeeee,’ he murmured in his heavily accented English. ‘What a charming pleasure to ’ave you to stay here. You are so…beautiful.’ He paused. ‘You look—wonderful.’

  ‘Thank you, Federico,’ Lily said lightly. How could you take these people seriously? she thought. He’d be saying the same to every one of his female guests. Yet she automatically smiled back, responding to his compliments. At least he wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t. What you saw was what you got—a red-blooded Latin male, with no nasty surprises in his temperament and a straightforward, lusty appreciation of the female sex. He made Lily feel feminine, and desirable. And because of his openness, he was totally unthreatening.

  Still holding her hand to his lips, Federico said, ‘I’m so sorry…Sam is—unwell. He is lying down. Head,’ he added, touching his forehead. ‘He asks you to see him later tonight.’

  ‘Oh, poor Sam,’ Lily said, remembering that her brother was prone to migraines—as she herself was. ‘Tell him not to worry, Federico. I’m going off to explore, and I’m quite happy being by myself,’ she added, as he went to object. ‘Tell Sam I’ll see him in the morning.’

  People were starting to mill about again in the evening sunshine as Lily wandered around. She’d only been here twice before, but it felt surprisingly familiar as she drank in the atmosphere. She stopped idly from time to time, to watch some artists at work, before buying herself a large vanilla ice-cream. She licked at it appreciatively as she sauntered along. It had to be the most delicious confection known to man, she thought, as the creamy substance coated her tongue and slid down, cooling her throat. The Italians certainly knew how to make the stuff.

  Presently she came to the Trevi Fountain, and sat down on a nearby seat to watch the huge gush of water stream from its natural spring. The evening sun shone on the spectacle, lighting up the whole picture like an elaborate stage set, and Lily found herself daydreaming as she sat there, her hands clasped in her lap.

  Suddenly a light tap on her arm made her turn quickly.

  ‘Hello, there. What are you doing here all by yourself?’

  Theodore Montague was standing there, looking down at her, and Lily felt her throat constrict as she gazed up at him.

  ‘Oh—hello—’ she said uncertainly. Well, was it really any surprise that they should meet? she asked herself. Rome wasn’t that big a place. She moved over to make room for him to sit down.

  He was wearing white trousers and a dark open-neck shirt, his bare feet thrust into strong brown sandals, and Lily felt her heart fluttering anxiously in the usual way. Yet it wasn’t exactly anxiety that she was feeling, she thought. It was something else—something she’d never actually felt before—and she wanted to push it away. But somehow she couldn’t, so she let the sensation wash over her until, hopefully, it would melt away.

  They sat there for several moments without saying anything until he murmured, ‘Magical, isn’t it?’ He turned to look at her briefly. ‘Why is moving water so mesmerising?’

  ‘I think that everything here is just magical,’ Lily said. ‘The weather plays a part, though, of course. Why can’t we have some of this in England?’

  ‘It’s certainly perfect tonight,’ he agreed. ‘Though next month might be just a tad too hot.’ He paused. ‘You could presumably come here to live, if you wanted to?’ he suggested. ‘Maybe it’s the change you’re looking for. You said that your brother already lives here, so…’

  ‘No, I have no plans to live abroad,’ Lily said at once. ‘Perhaps one day I will change my mind, but not yet. I feel that my…fate—whatever it is—lies in England.’ She smiled as she looked up at him. ‘That doesn’t sound very enterprising or ambitious, does it?’

  He hesitated for a moment before turning to her properly, holding out his hand. ‘Look—this is silly. Why don’t we introduce ourselves? I’m Theo Montague—and you know why I’m here…’

  ‘And I’m Lily Patterson,’ Lily said quickly, taking his hand briefl
y. ‘And you know why I’m here.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s better. I don’t care for nameless faces,’ he said. ‘So…go on telling me about yourself, Lily. You mentioned ambitions. Are you ambitious?’

  ‘I think I am,’ she said slowly. ‘But, as I said before, I don’t really know where my ambitions lie. Do I want to go on in catering? Maybe secure an appointment with a wealthy family in a lovely house somewhere in the country, so that I can sit in the garden in the afternoons and paint…?’

  ‘So—you like to paint?’

  ‘Yes, though I don’t do it very well—yet. But I’m practising. And I’d love to learn to play the piano. I had some lessons once, when I was a child, but they sort of…stopped…and I never took it up again.’

  They’d stopped because at the time, she had been living in one of the homes she’d run away from, she reminded herself.

  ‘I think most children are guilty of that,’ he said. ‘Starting things and not wanting to go on with them.’ He was thinking of Freya as he spoke, who seemed to have lost interest in most things since her mother had died.

  There was quite a long silence after that, but Lily realised that she hadn’t felt so comfortable, or secure, or so plain contented for a long time. She was painfully aware of Theo’s elegant legs stretched out in front of him—the strong, masculine thighs evident beneath the fine cotton of his trousers, the well-kept, unblemished brown toes protruding from his sandals—and she checked herself hurriedly. These thoughts weren’t part of her life plan. They weren’t part of anything to do with her at all. Suddenly she wanted to go back and see how Sam was feeling.

  ‘I ought to go and see how my brother is,’ she said, standing up. ‘He crashed out with a migraine after we’d had lunch. He was going to take me somewhere for supper, but…’

  As soon as she’d said the words Lily could have kicked herself. She’d fed him the line—and he took it.

  ‘Well—why don’t you let me buy you supper instead?’ he said. ‘Your first night in Rome shouldn’t be spent alone.’

  ‘Oh—I don’t really think—’Lily began, but he cut in.

  ‘Look, why don’t you ring to find out how your brother is—whether he’s well enough to take you out? If he isn’t, I’m sure he’d be happy to think you were being taken care of. Besides,’ Theo added, ‘I don’t much like eating by myself.’

  That would have been the perfect pick-up line, Lily thought, had it been said by anyone other than the man sitting next to her. But she knew it wasn’t.

  Doing as he said, she rang the hotel from her mobile, to be told by Federico that Sam was still in bed and unlikely to surface before morning. She ended the call and looked at Theo.

  ‘Sam is still out of it, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘But wouldn’t you rather…? I mean, wouldn’t some of your colleagues be more interesting company than me?’

  ‘They certainly would not,’ he said lightly. ‘We’ll have quite enough of each other during the day. The evenings are free, thank goodness, to do what we like with. So—’ he grinned down at her ‘—let me show you some of the places I’ve been to before, and you can choose which one you like the look of.’

  His teeth were almost blindingly white as he smiled, and the face which on first impression had seemed serious and somewhat formidable to Lily now exhibited a heart-throbbingly purposeful expression, indicating someone strong, reliable…and utterly captivating. The sort of man she might one day paint riding on a white charger to rescue damsels in distress.

  Lily choked back her disbelief at her own thoughts. Rome was a mad place! It was making her mad! That, or she had a bad touch of the sun…

  CHAPTER TWO

  THEY left the piazza, walking side by side with plenty of space between them as they strolled along. The jostling crowds were an eclectic bunch—families, middle-aged couples wandering hand in hand, and lovers oblivious to anyone but themselves, who stopped at regular intervals to indulge in passionate kissing. At first Lily felt acutely embarrassed when they had to side-step an amorous couple, though it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been on her own, she thought. But witnessing it with Theodore Montague there as well seemed to put a different aspect on everything. He, however, appeared not to notice or care what was going on around them.

  He looked down at her. ‘I expect your brother has already introduced you to most of the sights, the tourist must-sees?’ he enquired.

  ‘Some,’ Lily replied. ‘But there’s plenty I haven’t seen—and lots I’d like to visit again.’ She stopped to let a small child dash between them as he ran to keep up with his parents. ‘Sam never seems to have a great deal of time to spend with me when I visit—he and Federico, his business partner, work so hard, and I understand that he must fit me in when he can.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘I don’t mind. I’m used to sorting myself out alone. It’s just lovely to be here with him now and again—to catch up.’

  Would they ever manage to catch up? Lily thought. There were so many years to talk about—so many things to explain and discuss. Would one lifetime be enough?

  After a few minutes, Theo said, ‘It’s a bit later than I thought—and I’m getting hungry. Perhaps you’d let me decide where we’re going to eat? I promise you won’t be disappointed.’

  Lily didn’t need convincing about that. ‘Wherever we go will be fine by me,’ she said casually.

  ‘The place I have in mind boasts a panoramic vista of the city—so we’ll have two for the price of one,’ Theo said. ‘Excellent food, and a view as well.’

  He was right. And presently, sitting opposite him at a candlelit table, Lily wondered if she was dreaming. This was the stuff of fairy tales, she thought—to be here in this timeless city, on an evening so balmy that there was no need for a shawl to cover her bare neck and shoulders, even if she’d brought one with her that night, and to be sharing delicious food with the handsome Mr Theodore Montague… Not that his appearance made the slightest difference to her, of course, but it was impossible to ignore the glances he attracted from any woman who spotted him. He was after all the quintessential human male that artists and sculptors liked to fashion. He could have been the model for Bernini’s Apollo himself, Lily thought, smiling briefly at the thought.

  While Theo chose swordfish for his meal, Lily selected equally delicious veal wrapped in ham and dressed with sage. For a few minutes they said nothing as they ate.

  ‘You don’t drink, then?’ he asked, as he refilled Lily’s glass with sparkling water, before drinking some of the red wine he’d chosen.

  ‘Not often,’ Lily said carefully, privately adding to herself, Not with anyone she didn’t really know. And, after all, she didn’t know him—not in any real sense. Of course it was different drinking with Sam…he was the only man she’d ever been able to feel completely at ease with—and she’d had to wait a long time to experience that, she thought ruefully.

  Theo had been watching her covertly as she finished the last of the food on her plate, finding himself really liking his dining companion. The cream dress she was wearing showed off her light suntan to perfection, and her fair hair shone with health. Her eyes were cast down as she ate, and he observed how long her lashes were, unusually dark and moist as they rested on her cheeks. He swallowed, picking up his glass, searching for a word that might describe her—but he couldn’t readily find one. She had a sort of diffident air, yet there was an undeniable strength apparent just below the surface. The way she occasionally raised her chin as she spoke indicated a force to be reckoned with at times, he thought. Was she a trustworthy type? Almost certainly. Shy? Not exactly—but not very forthcoming, either. Loyal? From some of the things she’d said her brother obviously meant an enormous amount to her. There was an almost child-like love and regard for him. Theo liked that.

  He cleared his throat. ‘So—let’s talk about your plans for the future,’ he said briefly, in a way that he hoped wouldn’t appear intrusive. ‘In spite of what you’ve said, I feel sure you’ve got some good i
deas floating around.’

  Lily looked across at him, the soft candlelight enhancing the delicate shape of her face. ‘No, I haven’t—not yet,’ she replied honestly. ‘I’m waiting for some inspiration—but so far nothing.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t wait for ever, of course,’ she admitted. ‘My funds will keep me going for a month or two, but not for much longer.’ She stopped what she was saying abruptly. This man was a stranger, she reminded herself again. Or nearly Be careful. Don’t get close. Don’t let him get close.

  She sat back, steeling herself not to become enraptured with the situation she was in—the atmosphere, the company…and the penetrating blackness of those eyes which seemed to enter her very soul. ‘Tell me about your children,’ she said firmly. ‘You said you’ve got three?’

  He paused for a moment before replying. ‘Yes. Tom is three, Alexander is five, and Freya is nine.’

  ‘Your wife must have her hands full,’ Lily said lightly.

  ‘My wife—Elspeth—is dead,’ he said flatly, not looking at her as he spoke, his gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder into the far distance. ‘Fourteen months ago she succumbed to a virus and was gone in three days.’ His expression was impassive as he spoke, but those dark windows of his soul said it all, becoming blacker and even more intense as he relived the ordeal.

  Lily felt a huge wave of compassion sweep over her. What a shock—what a tragedy for anyone to have to suffer, she thought. She let a moment pass before saying anything. Then, ‘I am…so…sorry,’ she said quietly.

  He shrugged. ‘We’re surviving it together, the four of us,’ he remarked briefly. ‘Tom and Alex are just young enough to weather the storm fairly easily—but Freya…’ He sighed and looked at Lily, noting that her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. ‘Freya has taken it very badly, I’m afraid. There was never any problem with her when Elspeth was alive—she was a bright, easygoing child—but my daughter seems to have a huge, resentful chip on her shoulder all the time now.’