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where he met Mother!’ she declared sentimentally, imagining the two of them being serenaded in a gondola at midnight, floating silently along the dark canals...
    â€˜Sophia? Come back to us?’
    The prince’s soft and humour-laden murmur brought her back to the present with a jolt. ‘I was thinking what a romantic city it must be for lovers,’ she explained a little bashfully, adoring the thought of her parents in such a setting. How wonderful it must have been!
    â€˜You know it? You’ve been there?’ he asked with interest.
    â€˜Oh, no! But Father talked about it and I feel I know it. We’d look at a travel book of the city together and he’d tell me about the palazzos, St Mark’s Square, the churches crammed full of paintings by famous artists... I feel I know it. I have the map of the island in my head, how the Grand Canal curves like a backward ’S‘ bend, where the Rialto Bridge is... And it’s so beautiful. To me, Venice looks as if it’s the backdrop in a medieval fairy tale.’
    â€˜It was, once. And I agree. It’s the most beautiful city in the world,’ Rozzano murmured. ‘Venetians feel sorry for anyone not born there!’
    â€˜Now what tells me that you’re Venetian yourself?’ she asked drily. His eyes twinkled at her. Fascinated to learn about her mother’s birthplace, she added, ‘Have your family lived there long?’
    â€˜About seven hundred years,’ he replied without any hint of arrogance.
    â€˜Seven...!’ Open-mouthed in amazement, she gave up trying to imagine what it must be like to trace your ancestors so far back and decided to tease him. ‘Dear, dear.
And still stuck in Venice!’ she chided. ‘Not the kind of people to go off and colonise the world, then!’
    He threw back his head and laughed in delight before coming forward to take her hands in his. Extraordinary! He kept touching her. Why?
    Staring into her startled eyes, he kissed the fingers of both hands. ‘When you find a jewel, you don’t swap it for paste.’
    She lowered her lashes, frowning. The touch of his lips had been warm and soft and she’d wished... Ashamed by her waywardness, she did her best to keep her fingers limp and unresponsive beneath his and searched for the threads of the conversation, bending her mind to getting the loose ends tied up.
    â€˜I still don’t understand why you’re here,’ she said, suddenly crisp and efficient ‘And why didn’t Father tell me who my mother was? Being Italian isn’t a crime. It doesn’t make sense.’
    The hands holding hers tightened a fraction. ‘I imagine he was protecting her.’
    Sophia stiffened at the gravity in Rozzano’s voice. She’d been right. There was more. Something she wouldn’t like. ‘Why?’ she asked, feeling the fear clutch at her heart and squeeze it hard.
    He was watching her like a hawk. ‘She had run away.’
    Her eyes widened in shock. ‘From what?’
    â€˜Marriage.’
    Absently his thumbs stroked her long fingers and she had to work hard to keep her breathing steady. ‘Go on,’ she mumbled.
    â€˜There had been an understanding that she would marry a family friend when she reached eighteen. She’d been virtually betrothed since childhood. I understand, however, that she was very independent and emotional.
For most of her teenage years she fought against a loveless marriage.’
    â€˜So would I!’ Sophia declared fervently, feeling appalled at the family pressure her beleaguered mother must have endured.
    â€˜Ye-e-s.’
    A faint frown drew Rozzano’s brows together as if her remark was not to his liking. Abruptly he dropped her hands and began to stroll around the room again, picking up objects absently and putting them down. Sophia and Frank followed his every move and she realised just how dominant the prince was, how he