The British Billionaire's Innocent Bride

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 briefly. ‘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 ideas 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.’

‘That’s understandable…’ Lily murmured.

‘Of course,’ he replied quickly. ‘And, because of that, when she asked I allowed her to be a weekly boarder at her school, to be with her friends. I must say she seems easier now when she’s back home—which she is full-time now, naturally, because it’s the school holidays. I know she misses her mother, but I can’t take her place, and—well…I’m not sure I understand women,’ he added, looking thoughtful for a second.

‘Are there grandparents around?’ Lily asked.

‘No—’ fraid not. My parents are dead,’ he said slowly. ‘They were both well into middle age when I came along…’ His lip curled. ‘I was probably a very unpleasant surprise.’ He shrugged. ‘They were both practising doctors with busy lives—I never actually saw too much of them during my childhood.’

So, Lily thought, he might have known his parents, but in essence he’d been almost as alone as she had.

‘And Elspeth’s parents…?’ she ventured hesitantly.

‘Her father is alive, but he lives in South Africa. We seldom see him.’

‘So—who takes care of the children?’ Lily asked. ‘When you’re at work?’

‘Well, of course I’ve had to employ nannies…though they’ve seldom been asked to stay overnight.’ The strong mouth tightened as he spoke. ‘As soon as I come home, I’m the one in charge.’

And how, Lily thought.

‘But luckily for me I have Beatrice—or Bea—and her husband,’ he went on. ‘They live nearby. Bea used to help my wife in the house, and then with the babies as they came along. But she’s over seventy, and I don’t want to take advantage of her good nature, even though she says she loves helping out. Which she’s doing while I’m here,’ he added. ‘She and Joe move in and sleep over until I come back—the kids adore them. But—as I said—I don’t want to wear them out.’ He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. ‘It was a good job we hadn’t any more offspring, because three are about as many as I can handle… We’d intended having a much larger family, but—well—fate had other ideas,’ he said.

‘Well—you may yet have more one day…’ Lily began.

‘Oh, that won’t happen,’ Theo replied at once. ‘I shan’t marry again. That’s not on the cards.’ He paused for a second. ‘I have no plans for myself. The children and their welfare, their future—that’s all I care about, all that keeps me going.’ Who could ever take the place of his beloved Elspeth? Who would he ever want to take her place?

Lily shrugged to herself. He was still young, and a very marriageable prospect for any deserving female, she thought. But it was obvious that his mind was made up, and she somehow knew that he wasn’t likely to change it.

Thinking that he’d divulged far more of himself than he ever had before to anyone—certainly not to a random female—Theo leaned forward.

‘And you?’ he asked. ‘D’you have any other siblings?’

‘No. It’s just Sam and me,’ Lily replied. ‘Though it would have been nice if there’d been more of us.’

‘I’m sure you’ll make up for that one day,’ he said easily. ‘Have lots of kids of your own, and—’

‘No. I don’t want children,’ Lily said bluntly. She paused. ‘If you’d seen me with those twins…I just don’t think I’m a natural mother, that’s all. It wouldn’t be fair—to any of us.’ And I’m never going to be a natural wife, either, she added silently to herself, recoiling at the thought, remembering her past with something approaching revulsion.

‘And your parents—they’re obviously still alive…?’ he went on, making the presumption as Lily could only be in her early twenties.

Lily’s spine began to tingle, and she tore her gaze away from his. She didn’t want to discuss any more of her life with anyone—certainly not with him. Yet he had been surprisingly honest about his own position, so she found it difficult to be evasive.

‘Our parents are no longer living,’ she said. Well, who knew where their father was? ‘So, you see, we’re both orphans, you and I.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t even remember them.’

‘Who brought you up?’

‘Oh, an assortment of aunties and uncles,’ Lily said, looking away. There was no need to say that she’d been a human reject, despaired of by foster carers. Because it hurt her to think it—even to herself.

Theo looked at her for a long moment, sensing an undercurrent of something he couldn’t explain passing between them. She was bright, obviously articulate and intelligent—yet there was something about her that reminded him of Freya. She was sad, too, he thought. Not just about being an orphan, as she’d said, but for other, deeper reasons.

The meal ended rather soberly after all that, and, foregoing dessert, they left the restaurant and walked towards St Peter’s. Late as it was, there was still plenty of activity everywhere, and Lily realised that she didn’t feel at all tired, but relaxed and happy. And she couldn’t put that down to the wine, because she hadn’t drunk any since lunchtime… It had to be Rome, she thought. With just a little credit going to the man walking along beside her. Theo had been personal, and personable, all evening, but he had not once stepped over that line of familiarity which was unacceptable. She realised that no man had ever made her feel so…protected…so appreciated. He seemed to enjoy being with her, with not a hint of wanting anything more. She breathed in deeply, silently. It was a relief to feel this secure.

Presently Theo said, ‘Perhaps it’s time I got you back to your hotel.’ He looked down at her. ‘If your brother has recovered, he’s sure to be wondering where you are by now.’

‘Oh, he won’t be worried about me,’ Lily said at once. ‘He knows I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.’ She hesitated, thinking how smug and self-sufficient that must sound. ‘It’s just that I’ve had to stand on my own feet for so long I never expect anyone to feel responsible for me in any way,’ she explained. ‘And—that’s the way I like it,’ she added.

He nodded slightly. ‘Yes—I can understand that,’ he said, thinking that he was in much the same position himself. Ever since he’d become a lone parent he’d had to almost fight off the well-intentioned efforts of various women wanting to help shoulder some of the responsibility. But he’d been determined from the outset that that would not happen. This was his problem, and he was going to solve it himself. And he’d done all right so far, he thought—even if Freya was a continual source of worry to him. But he felt sure that it would all come right one day.

‘Your brother’s hotel is very well situated,’ he remarked. ‘You said it’s off Piazza Navona? Couldn’t be better.’

‘I know,’ Lily said. ‘So I don’t have to look far for entertainment. The hotel is just far enough away from the beaten track to be surprisingly peaceful. I’ve never lost a night’s sleep there yet.’

It didn’t take long to get back, and Theo realised, rather disturbingly, that he didn’t want the evening to come to an end. He’d enjoyed himself—really enjoyed himself. Since Elspeth had gone, he’d hated eating alone in foreign countries, and he’d been glad of the chance to invite someone other than a professional colleague to have supper with him. It had been a bit of luck that he’d spotted Lily sitting alone by the fountain, and even more lucky that her brother hadn’t been well enough to accompany her. For some reason he felt…lighter—lighter in spirit than he had for fourteen months. But of course the reason for that was quite clear. He’d been on a mission—even if he hadn’t been aware of that at first. A project had presented itself, and projects were what kept him going these days. The fact was that he liked Lily—liked the woman’s company. She didn’t grate on his nerves, which was often the case now, when he was with a member of the opposite sex. And subconsciously a plan had been forming in his mind, without him knowing it. Why else had he quite shamelessly been assessing her all the evening—assessing her character, sizing her up?

Just as they approached the lighted entrance to her hotel, he stopped, forcing Lily to halt her steps. She looked up at him, smiling quickly.

‘Well, thank you, thanks a lot for that lovely meal, Theo,’ she began.

‘No—thank you—for agreeing to come with me tonight,’ he said seriously, waiting for the right words, the right moment to continue. ‘Actually, Lily, I’ve been wondering whether you’d…’ he began.

Lily presumed that he was going to suggest they meet up again while they were in Rome. But she was here to be with her brother—they only had another two days, after all. She’d have to think of a diplomatic refusal, she thought.

‘No—I’m sorry…I really must be entirely free for Sam. We have such a short time here together,’ she said, ‘and we’ve not seen each other since last year.’

He smiled down into her upturned face. ‘No—no, of course. I wouldn’t dream of intruding upon any more of your holiday,’ he said. ‘It’s not that.’

‘Oh?’ Lily said, immediately feeling foolish and frowning slightly. ‘Well…what is it, then?’

Unusually for him, Theo had difficulty finding words, but then he managed to come out with what he had to say in his normal forthright manner.

‘Would you… Would you step in and look after the boys for me—just for a few weeks?’ he asked. ‘I did notice from the address on your luggage earlier that we live in the same town… I’m between nannies at the moment, and I’m in a bit of a fix. I loathe the thought of interviewing yet more girls who seldom turn out as I’d hoped. It would just be for a short time,’ he added quickly. ‘Not a long-term commitment, but it would give me time to—well, to regroup…while you make up your mind about your future. It would be just a temporary thing, I assure you. The children will be back at school in a month or so, so you’d have plenty of time for yourself to make plans, write off for interviews, make telephone calls and stuff… And I pay well over the going rate for the job,’ he added, almost afraid to hear her reaction to his request.

Lily sank down on to the low stone wall skirting the entrance of the hotel and looked up at him, amazed at what he’d asked. ‘Do you honestly believe that I could be up to the task?’ she said. ‘I’ve told you—I don’t think I’m any good with children. If you’re looking for Mary Poppins, you’ve come to the wrong person.’

‘I’m sure you’d be better than some of the girls I’ve employed so far,’ he said flatly. He hesitated. ‘I expect it’s my own fault—I must be rubbish at the selection process,’ he said. ‘They all seem OK at interview—but it never quite works out.’ He held her gaze for a moment. ‘And—by the way—I’m not asking you to be Mary Poppins. I’m just asking you to be a stand-in until I find her.’

‘Well—how many nannies have you employed so far?’ Lily asked curiously, still utterly taken aback by the unexpectedness of his proposal. What on earth was she going to say? What on earth did she want to say?

‘Three in just over a year,’ he said. ‘I had to sack two of them because they turned out to be totally unsuitable, and the third left because she’d suddenly decided to take off and go backpacking for a year. So then I had to use the temporary services of an agency, and that wasn’t ideal at all. The poor kids never knew who was going to be there when they got home.’

Lily swallowed, not sure how to respond. She’d made up her mind that being with children all day was definitely not for her, but deep down she felt that it might not be such a bad idea to fall in with Theo’s wishes. It could be a timely stop-gap while she reviewed her future—as he’d suggested.

He broke in on her thoughts. ‘If you did agree, Lily,’ he said, ‘it would mean turning up in time to take Tom and Alex to school in the mornings—though of course they’re on holiday for the next six weeks or so—and to pick them up at three. Then giving them their tea and waiting with them until I get back at about seven. I always put them to bed,’ he added. ‘And of course you’d need to be available all day at the end of the phone to deal with any problems when they’re at school. Although I’m obviously contactable in a dire emergency, I cannot leave my post for minor things.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I suppose what I’m really trying to do—what my subconscious hope is—is to find a replacement for my wife… Which is unreasonable of me, of course. How could that ever happen? How could any staff member fill that sort of gap?’