Free Behind the Castello Doors by Chantelle Shaw

had overslept and missed her cleaning shift. Horrified, she threw back the sheets—and then took a steadying breath as her brain caught up. She had spent the night at Cesario Piras’s castle, and without her alarm clock to wake her at four-thirty, as it did every other morning, she had slept embarrassingly late.
    Sophie had settled straight after her 3:00 a.m. feed, and now, when Beth stole into the nursery, she found the baby still sleeping peacefully. As she moved away from the cot there was a light knock on the door, and a moment later a woman whom she guessed was one of the castle staff entered the nursery, bearing a tray.
    ‘Ah, you are awake and the bambina is still asleep—that is good. My name is Filomena,’ the woman introduced herself in a loud whisper. ‘I am cook for Signor Piras and I look after his castle. All the other staff—they do what I tell them.’

    Beth could well believe it. Filomena was short in stature, and cosily plump, but her flashing black eyes warned of a fiery and formidable personality. However, her smile was welcoming, and when she peeped at Sophie her face softened.
    ‘Angioletto,’ she breathed before she set the tray down on the table by the window. ‘You can eat breakfast while the bambina sleeps,’ she told Beth. ‘If she wakes I will hold her while you finish.’
    The aroma of coffee and freshly baked rolls made Beth’s stomach rumble appreciatively, and the bowl of peaches and cherries looked as inviting as the dish beside it containing creamy yoghurt. But if Sophie acted true to form she would undoubtedly stir the minute Beth started eating, she thought ruefully.
    She smiled shyly at Cesario’s cook. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure you must be busy …’
    Beady black eyes fixed her with a stern look. ‘Signor Piras say to Filomena that you must eat—so you eat.’ She gave Beth a cursory inspection and sniffed. ‘You are too thin. You will never find a husband.’
    Beth did not explain that following her father’s devastating betrayal of her mother she had decided she never wanted a husband. Instead, she deemed it wiser to subside into a chair and help herself to a roll. ‘Is Signor Piras’s word law?’ she murmured.
    ‘Of course,’ Filomena said cheerfully. ‘He is the master of the Castello del Falco. He is il capo. How you say? The boss.’
    ‘Yes, I imagine he is,’ Beth said dryly, recalling his hard features and granite-grey eyes. Cesario was king of his castle, and his position as head of one of Italy’s biggest banks must mean that he was immensely powerful.But she had witnessed a gentler side to his nature when he had rocked Sophie off to sleep and could not help but be intrigued by him.
    Her mind lingered on those few heart-stopping moments in his room when she had thought that he was going to kiss her, and a little tremor ran through her. Of course she hadn’t wanted him to. Not a man like him—a man who slept around and was careless of the consequences. She stared at the tray in front of her. He was also a man who had instructed his cook to bring her breakfast. He was probably just being a polite host, she told herself firmly, he was not interested in her welfare.
    The torrential rain of the previous night had eased to a fine drizzle which continued to fall from the leaden sky. Beth had spent the morning in the nursery with Sophie, but now, after lunch—which Filomena had brought, and then watched her like a hawk while she ate—a glimmer of sunshine broke through the clouds outside the window.
    ‘We’ll go for a walk,’ she told the baby as she dressed her in an all-in-one suit. At home she tried to take Sophie out in the fresh air most days. The one-bedroom flat she rented in a grim tower block in East London was cramped, especially now that it was filled with baby paraphernalia, but luckily the Hackney Marshes were close by, and provided an oasis of green in a busy part of London.
    Teodoro carried the baby buggy down the