CHAPTER TEN

      IVO FOLLOWED RAMON out of the room. Flora had already vanished into the bedroom to change, ignoring his assurance that the jeans and silk shirt she was wearing were fine for breakfast with his grandfather.

      ‘So, breakfast? I was under the impression that we were coming to dinner.’

      Ramon tipped his head in acknowledgement. ‘Yes, your grandfather informed me of this last night and asked me to arrange matters, but—’

      ‘But...?’ Ivo prompted.

      ‘This morning he... He had forgotten.’

      ‘Does this happen often?’

      ‘More than it did,’ said the other man, unhappily.

      ‘What else have you noticed?’ Ivo gave a brooding frown. He would respect his grandfather’s wishes but it was inevitable that people would start noticing.

      ‘Well, some mood swings—he can be quite...irritable.’

      ‘Not exactly unusual.’

      ‘Indeed, but, well, he can get ideas. Take against people.’

      ‘Such as?’

      ‘This is different. It is...’

      ‘Go on, say it.’

      ‘I am not a medical man, but it’s more like paranoia. There was a new staff member, young, really very promising, and your grandfather decided that he had stolen his watch. He became quite abusive and accused the lad of being part of a conspiracy. The watch was in his dressing room where he always keeps it.’

      ‘You smoothed things over?’

      Ramon nodded.

      Ivo, his expression sombre, heaved a sigh. ‘I’m grateful and I’m sorry. This is not your job. I’ll speak to the doctors, ask about extra staff. More qualified staff.’

      A look of visible relief passed across the other man’s face. ‘That seems like an excellent idea, sir—and, sir, I suggested breakfast because that’s a good time for him usually.’’

      Madre di Dio, things really were that bad, and they would only get worse.

      His grandfather would suffer, but for how long the doctors had been frustratingly vague.

      And he could do nothing.

      Except keep his grandfather’s secret.

      Ramon cleared his throat delicately and nodded past Ivo, looking at the half-closed door. ‘May I ask, does Ms Henderson...?’

      ‘No, not yet.’

      Would it be the right thing to do in this situation?

      The question in his head wasn’t what was the right thing to do. Or even was there a right thing...he left moral philosophy for the better qualified.

      If she knew the truth, what would her reaction be?

      One thing was for certain: it wouldn’t be a selfish one. If he’d learnt anything about the woman who had shown more passion in his bed than any other lover he’d had, it was that she was a born giver. She had to have arrived in the world with a note saying ‘use me’ in her chubby little hand.

      And he had and furthermore he had enjoyed it. She was right, she did have terrible taste in men but he wasn’t about to kick her out of his bed.

      What a saint, admired the ironic voice in his head.

      All right, he was no saint, but he was not this Callum guy who, he suspected, she might still have feelings for. The idea might have bothered a jealous man; luckily Ivo was a stranger to that emotion.

      ‘I see.’

      Ivo tipped his head in acknowledgement and began to step back inside the room, but it appeared that the relief of being relieved of some of the burden he’d been shouldering had made the normally taciturn Ramon uncharacteristically talkative and emotional.

      ‘That must be hard for you.’

      It didn’t seem to require an answer so Ivo said nothing.

      ‘Keeping secrets from the person you love, not being able to share the burden, your grief. I had someone once, but no longer... I envy you.’ Ramon gave another precise little nod, slightly embarrassed-looking this time, and walked away.

      Ivo watched him go. If he’d felt the need to reach out to Flora...a woman, any woman, he would have crushed it instantly. He had no desire to be part of a relationship where two people blurred into one. The mere idea was anathema to him. He realised this romantic ideal of a joining of souls was what many dreamt of, but to him it represented a loss of control, of sanity, of the essence of his individuality.

      The only merging he wanted was of bodies.

      When he walked back inside his face was carefully blank, denying there was any struggle going on inside him.

      * * *

      Ivo was tense about the breakfast; the conversation with Ramon had made him realise that his grandfather was a lot more unpredictable than he’d realised.

      It sounded as though his behaviour was such that, had he not been who he was, rich, powerful and pretty much a law unto himself, had he not surrounded himself, with a few exceptions, with people who would have agreed if he’d called day night, people might already be asking questions.

       Or if you, his only family, had been around a bit more.

      Ivo took the hit of guilt, pretty sure he deserved it.

      He need not have worried; the breakfast couldn’t have gone better. Nobody meeting Salvatore for the first time would have known there was anything wrong. If he misspoke a few times...well, people did.

      He was charming, funny and full of praise for Flora and the job she was doing. And he was emotional when he got to hold his great-grandson, who he decided looked exactly like his father, at which point he became tearful.

      His tears evoked a sympathetic response in Flora, who didn’t know that Salvatore never usually cried.

      Ivo, worried about the mood shift, found himself moving protectively to Flora’s side as she lifted the baby off his grandfather’s lap, whereupon Jamie began to cry.

      Ivo could have kissed the baby for his excellent timing. Salvatore did and then began to weep again.

      ‘He’s lovely,’ Flora said, sending up a reproachful look to the man walking beside her. ‘I can’t believe how nervous I was,