To Katherine's shocked look, Ian responded with the assurance that was needed.

—Get up —he ordered her, he always ordered—, I'll go with you.

It didn't take a genius to understand that in the state of anxiety she was in, the woman should not be driving. The Carson family home was about three miles from the port, and all the way the Italian continued to rack his brains.

He understood how much Lia meant to Katherine, as much as little Flavia or any of her siblings meant to him, and he was sure that the death of her newborn baby had devastated her, but that was none of his business. He didn't know her, in three years he hadn't met any relatives of the one who had been his mistress, but one thing was certain: Kathy couldn't use the friendship they still shared to ask him to educate her sister.

"Yes, educate, there's no other way to put it."

His temper was capable of controlling the wolf pack he had at home, but Lia was far from being a wolf, and if in anything she shared genes with her sister, then she would have no despicable beauty... She was a woman anyway, and he didn't allow women to stay in his house!

Kathy seemed to guess his thinking.

—It's not like you're going to make her your mistress either... —she tried to protest.

—Please! —he replied with an accent of concentrated anger—. I wouldn't dream of sleeping with your sister. Why the hell do you keep insisting?

—Because I want her to recover —she mused with a look full of involuntary tears—. I've tried to make her react in every possible way, and I can only think of more drastic measures. You... somehow you get people to obey you. You are strong in every aspect of your life, even in....

—Even in sex —he finished—. I understand, Katherine, that it can be healthy for Lia to have a relationship with someone, someone who doesn't feel sorry for her, who forces her to stand up —He took a long breath of air and then sighed—, but that's her husband's job, my dear, you must understand that.

The woman at his side shook her head again, with exasperating perseverance, and this time she forgave her the stubbornness, Lia was her little sister, whom she had practically raised after the death of their parents when they were still very young.

—He can't help her, I know that!

The Italian chose to keep his answers to himself. They were arriving at the house and there was a more urgent matter. The cleaning lady at the residence came out to greet them and it was Johan who spoke to her.

— Loreta! How did Lia disappear?

—I'm sorry, sir —apologized the woman. She must have been close to sixty years old and her face was unhinged with terror—. I left her alone for a few seconds, while I vacated the baby's room... and then I didn't see her anymore!

Johan let out a curse under his breath and headed for the house, seemingly ready to turn everything upside down while Katherine ran after him, shouting at him in an accent that denoted her wounded sensibility.

—Did you ask for everything to be removed from the baby's room?

He just didn't answer her and kept walking.

Ian made a gesture of natural intolerance and shoved his hands in his pockets, aware that he was the only one who remained calm. He squinted for a second, assessing possible escape routes, and then turned to the serving lady, who had stood beside him with a pouty attitude.

—Excuse me —he tried to get her attention—. Where did you put the things that were in the baby's room?

—In the storage room, sir. At the back of the house —was the answer.

Ian hesitated for a moment and then strode purposefully toward the storeroom. It was nothing more than an old masonry room more than a hundred feet from the main residence, but as he approached it he heard a low, cadenced, sweet murmur, like a song whispered in his ear.

He pushed open the wooden door and what he saw chilled his blood and left him speechless.

******

She was small, small and petite, and blonde as a spring sun. It was hard to believe that the girl with the lost eyes was twenty—four years old. No wonder Katherine kept talking about her as if she were a child.

Sitting in the rocking chair, with soft cushions on her back, Lia sang a lullaby for the empty cradle in front of her. She was the most helpless creature Ian had ever seen in his life, but there was something... there was something about that woman that turned the shiver that ran up his spine into a whiplash of desire.

A latent sensuality emerged in every movement of her lips, in the delicious curve of her neck, in that semi—nakedness that was transparent in the nightgown. Her hair reached almost to her waist, and lying on her chest, it invited to caress that uncovered nape of her neck, that white skin.

She didn't even flinch as Ian slowly approached, it was as if the rest of the world didn't exist, just her and the rocking chair, her and the cradle.

—Mrs. Carson. —he called out to her without getting an answer—. Lia!

But Lia had been lost in some unknown place for almost three months.

The nightgown clung to her body, which was utterly exquisite. The long, smoothly turned legs; the narrow waist; the provocative hips; the firm, small breasts. She wore no bra, and the fabric delicately molded the small pink nipples.

"What the hell am I doing staring at that?"

Her hands were small and very white. Everything about Lia was white and small, doll—like. Ian sat next to her and listened to her sing. Her lips were full and as hot pink as he'd ever seen others, and for a second the Italian was lost in the black abyss that was her eyes. He bit his lower lip, trying to contain the cluster of physical reactions she provoked in him, and confirmed to himself that it would be impossible to have such a woman in his house without wanting to get her into his bed.

He reached out to brush her fingers, and the contact with her skin, strangely warm and sensual, was another punishment for his self—control. He shook his head, trying to push his thoughts away, and then the girl turned her face, riveted those stormy ocean eyes on him and left him transfixed.

"Handsome..."

Lia felt the touch of his hand and knew she was less alone. She didn't know this man, but he was handsome. Blue pupils, coppery golden hair that reached almost to his shoulders, and a beard so... so wild. The line of his lips was perfect, accentuated by the powerful jaw. He was a stranger, a stranger with iron muscles that showed under the tight blak T—shirt and faded jeans.

A stranger who suddenly began humming the song. Lia's lips trembled when she heard his voice, charged with an electrifying sensuality. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed them tightly.

"Handsome... and unknown..." It was the last thing her mind purred to her before she closed her eyes and continued singing very softly. Ian made a superhuman effort not to shake her when he saw the slight quiver of her mouth.

"God, she's so beautiful! And so fragile! I don't understand how they let her come to this."

Katherine was right: she needed a drastic change, a shock to her immobility, a whiplash of emotion that would bring her back to reality somehow. He brought his mouth to the back of her hand and brushed it with a moist caress before singing with more conviction. A lullaby. It was what she needed, then it was what he would give her.

And just then he noticed the slight tilt at the corners of her lips. Lia was smiling quietly, clinging to his fingers.

Behind him the door announced with a squeak the arrival of visitors. At the threshold Kathy remained mute, and Johan punched the door frame in utter exasperation, doing more damage to his fist than to the wood.

—This has gone far enough! —he growled—. I'm sorry, Kika, but I'm sending Lia to a hospital.