BETH HARDINGSTONE ENTERED the arrivals department of Vienna International Airport, pushing Dom’s pram with one hand and dragging her suitcase full of baby paraphernalia with the other. She looked around for the driver she’d been promised would meet her and hoped it wouldn’t be too long before she could throw a mug of super-strong coffee down her throat. She needed caffeine, badly.
Dom was suffering with teething pains and had kept her up all night with his crying. She’d finally fallen asleep at silly o’clock, less than an hour before she’d had to get up and get ready for their early-morning flight to Vienna. There had been no chance of sleep on the plane. Dom had not enjoyed his first flight and had made sure every passenger knew it.
He was fast asleep now, though, flat on his back in his pram, thumb in mouth, as cherubic as it was possible to be.
People always said how hard the first year of babyhood was but until you’d lived it for yourself there was no way to appreciate the sheer hard work and exhaustion that went with it. There was also no way to appreciate the unremitting joy that went with it either: the gummy smiles, the gurgling laughs, the explosions of love that came from picking up a screaming child and having him immediately quieten from being held in your arms.
A tall figure leant against a wall caught her eye.
He looked up from the phone in his hand. As his eyes met hers, her heart made a sudden leap.
Six weeks ago, Beth had been offered the event manager’s job of a lifetime—organising a Viennese masquerade ball. The Greek billionaire who’d bought a palace in Vienna and spent millions renovating it into an exclusive hotel for the filthy rich had sent his representative to deal with Beth’s company on his behalf. That representative had been this man, Valente Cortada.
In her six years working at White’s Events, where models of both sexes were regularly used as hosts and hostesses, where clients were rich and powerful, where guests were the staple of gossip columns, Beth had never met anyone who’d made her suck in a breath with one look as Valente had.
His instructions had been to secure Beth’s agreement to run the masquerade ball. That she’d been at the time nine months into a year’s unpaid leave and had no childcare arrangements in place had been overcome by Valente and her boss Lucinda setting her up with all the technology needed to organise things remotely from the comfort of Beth’s flat, and providing her with all the staff needed to assist her. As the sleeping baby was the reason for her year’s leave, and as she refused to travel without him, provisions had also been made for her to bring Dom with her to the ball.
When the offer had been made, Beth had almost wept with relief to accept. The nest-egg she’d thought would get her through the first year of Dom’s life had been depleted far more quickly than she’d anticipated. She’d been at a real crossroads. She wasn’t emotionally ready to put Dom in childcare and return to work but the bills were piling up and her rent, like everything else, had increased. She’d never been so skint in her life.
It was hard to believe that a little over a year ago the future had been so rosy. Beth had earned enough to rent a small flat but that had been all she’d needed. She’d been a single woman enjoying the London life with enough disposable income to eat out regularly, watch a live show or see a band whenever the mood struck. Her career had been going from strength to strength too but then tragedy had struck in a full-pronged attack and now she was in serious danger of losing the flat she loved so much and having to be put into social housing.
If it came to it, then she would cope. Dom’s emotional welfare and wellbeing meant more than anything. The poor mite, orphaned by the time he’d turned three months, needed all the love and security she could give. Beth could never replace his mother but she hoped that, as he grew up, he would take her love and support for granted just as he would have taken Caroline’s.
As an orphan herself, Beth knew how important and necessary this was.
She did not begrudge what she was doing for Dom and refused to call it a sacrifice. What Caroline had done had been a sacrifice. She’d given her life so her child could live.
But, if her perilous finances weren’t enough to contend with, there was also was the spectre of Alessio Palvetti hanging over her head.
Dom’s powerful biological uncle had discovered Dom’s existence and immediately thrown his weight about, emailing Beth from his ivory tower in Milan to demand access. Remembering the solemn promise she’d made to his parents to keep Dom far from Alessio and the other Palvettis for ever, she’d refused. Alessio had been undaunted and had got his expensive lawyers on the case, going as far as to offer her a million pounds in exchange for him taking custody of Dom. She had dismissed the offer out of hand and made it clear she would consider any further contact harassment and take appropriate action to protect Dom and herself against it.
She hadn’t heard from him since but didn’t believe his silence would last. He was too rich and too powerful to be held off for ever.
Beth loved Dom fiercely. She’d been present at his birth and there at his mother’s death. She would do anything to protect him, and if that meant fighting one of Europe’s richest and most secretive families then so be it.
The money being offered to organise the masquerade ball was the life-saver she needed.
She hadn’t seen Valente in the flesh since their initial meeting but as he was the liaison between Giannis and her they’d communicated daily with emails and video calls. What had started as purely professional communication had slowly transformed into something friendlier. Not only was he the sexiest man she’d ever met but he was easy to work with. He rarely questioned her judgement and, when he did, his points were valid and never cutting.
She’d found herself thinking about him a lot in the evenings when rocking Dom to sleep. And in the days when she was working on her laptop, co-ordinating things whilst simultaneously trying to keep Dom entertained. And at night...
Her skin suddenly heated to remember the dream she’d had of him. It had been a couple of weeks ago, long enough for the details to fade, but the hot, sticky feeling she’d woken with that night had stayed with her for a long time. For a few days after, she’d found it hard to meet his eye even though they’d been speaking via laptops.
He
