marriage between a Zirondi and a Luccini descendant and the birth of a child.’
‘You’re not serious?’ Jonathan was amazed.
‘A generation back, my father was serious enough to propose marriage to the mother of those two girls, Francesca, although I would point out that he genuinely fell in love with her. Luckily for us all, however, when he proposed she turned him down and married her farmer instead.’
‘Why luckily?’ Jonathan queried.
‘Francesca didn’t settle for long with the farmer or with any of the men that followed him. Goffredo had a narrow escape,’ Cesare opined, lean, strong face grim, well aware that his laid-back and rather naive father could never have coped with so fickle a wife.
‘So, why has your father sent you that file?’
‘He’s trying to get me interested in the ongoing, “Lionos reclamation project”,’ Cesare said very drily, the slant of his wide, sensual mouth expressing sardonic amusement as he sketched mocking quotations marks in the air.
‘He actually thinks he has a chance of persuading you to consider marriage with one of those two women?’ Jonathan slowly shook his head for neither female appeared to be a show-stopper and Cesare enjoyed the reputation of being a connoisseur of the female sex. ‘Is he crazy?’
‘Always an optimist.’ Cesare sighed. ‘In the same way he never listens when I tell him I haven’t the smallest desire to ever get married.’
‘As a happily married man and father, I have to tell you that you’re missing out.’
Cesare resisted a rude urge to roll his eyes in mockery. He knew that, in spite of the odds, good marriages did exist. His father had one, after all, and evidently Jonathan did too. But Cesare had no faith in true love and happy-ever-after stories, particularly not when his own first love had ditched him to waltz down the aisle with an extremely wealthy man, who referred to himself as being seventy-five years young. Serafina had dutifully proclaimed her love of older men all the way to the graveyard gates and was now a very rich widow, who had been chasing Cesare in the hope of a rematch ever since.
Cesare’s recollections were tinged with supreme scorn. He would never make a mistake like Serafina again. It had been a boy’s mistake, he reminded himself wryly. He was now far less ignorant about the nature of the female sex. He had never yet lavished his wealth on a woman who wasn’t more excited by his money than by anything else he offered. A satisfied smile softened the hard line of his wide, expressive mouth when he thought of his current lover, a gorgeous French fashion model who went to great lengths to please him in bed and out of it. And all without the fatal suffocating commitment of rings or nagging or noisy kids attached. What was not to like? It was true that he was an extremely generous lover but what was money for but enjoyment when you had as much as Cesare now had?
* * *
Cesare was less amused and indeed he tensed when he strolled into his city penthouse that evening to receive the news from his manservant, Primo, that his father had arrived for an unexpected visit.
Goffredo was out on the roof terrace admiring the panoramic view of London when Cesare joined him.
‘To what do I owe the honour?’ he mocked.
His father, always an extrovert in the affection stakes, clasped his son in a hug as if he hadn’t seen the younger man in months rather than mere weeks. ‘I need to talk to you about your grandmother...’
Cesare’s smile immediately faded. ‘What’s wrong?’
Goffredo grimaced. ‘Athene needs a coronary bypass. Hopefully it will relieve her angina.’
Cesare had stilled, a frown line etched between his level ebony brows. ‘She’s seventy-five.’
‘The prognosis for her recovery is excellent,’ his father told him reassuringly. ‘Unfortunately the real problem is my mother’s outlook on life. She thinks she’s too old for surgery. She thinks she’s had her three score years and ten and should be grateful for it.’
‘That’s ridiculous. If necessary, I’ll go and talk some sense into her,’ Cesare said impatiently.
‘She needs something to look forward to...some motivation to make her believe that the pain and stress of surgery will be worthwhile.’
Cesare released his breath in a slow hiss. ‘I hope you’re not talking about Lionos. That’s nothing but a pipe dream.’
Goffredo studied his only son with compressed lips. ‘Since when have you been defeatist about any challenge?’
‘I’m too clever to tilt at windmills,’ Cesare said drily.
‘But surely you have some imagination? Some...what is it you chaps call it now? The ability to think outside the box?’ the older man persisted. ‘Times have changed, Cesare. The world has moved on and when it comes to the island you have a power that I was never blessed with.’
Cesare heaved a sigh and wished he had worked late at the office where pure calm and self-discipline ruled, the very building blocks of his lifestyle. ‘And what power would that be?’ he asked reluctantly.
‘You are incredibly wealthy and the current owners of the island are dirt-poor.’
‘But the will is watertight.’
‘Money could be a great persuader,’ his father reasoned. ‘You don’t want a wife and probably neither of Francesca’s daughters wants a real husband at such a young age. Why can’t you come to some sort of business arrangement with one of them?’
Cesare shook his arrogant dark head. ‘You’re asking me to try and get round the will?’
‘The will has already been minutely appraised by a top inheritance lawyer in Rome. If you can marry one of those girls, you will have the right to visit the island and, what is more important, you will have the right to take your grandmother there,’ Goffredo outlined, clearly expecting his son to be impressed by that revelation.
Instead, Cesare suppressed a groan of impatience. ‘And what’s that worth at the end of the day? It’s not ownership, it’s not getting the island back into the family.’
‘Even a visit after all the years that have passed would be a source of great joy to your grandmother,’ Goffredo pointed out in a tone of reproach.
‘I always understood that visiting the island was against the terms of the will.’
‘Not if a marriage has first taken place. That is a distinction that it took a lawyer to point out. Certainly, if any of us were to visit without that security, Francesca’s daughters would forfeit their inheritance and the island would go to the government by default.’
‘Which would please no one but the government,’ Cesare conceded wryly. ‘Do you really think that a measly visit to the island would mean that much to Nonna?’ he pressed.
‘The right to pay her respects again at her parents’ graves? To see the house where she was born and where she married and first lived with my father? She has many happy memories of Lionos.’
‘But would one short visit satisfy
