Page 2 of Baby Mine

Once again, Jada started to speak, but the man at her side cut her off. “Where are my manners, beautiful lady? Forgive me.” He took her hand as if he would kiss it. She raised an eyebrow, and he hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter. “I am Ettore Mariani, and this little flower is my sister, Zita.”

The grand gestures and over familiarity didn’t shock Jada. She’d seen plenty of it in Italy. These people, while they spoke clear enough, still held what she called that sing-songy way of speaking, which she’d fallen in love with while in their native country. What did threaten to steal her resolve was knowing they were related to Renzo. His last name was Mariani. She’d known this was his house, but to come face-to-face with confirmation made her nervous.

“I’m Jada. Nice to meet you.” She paused, waiting for them to recognize her name, but no expressions of shock met her gaze. She should have known better. While she searched her mind for a way to escape in favor of the letter or phone call idea, another family member appeared on the scene. Rapid-fire Italian fell from the lips of an older, diminutive woman.

“Yes, of course, Mamma. We’re coming,” Ettore told her.

Zita finished descending the stairs, and the old woman turned to Jada. “Welcome,” she said in heavily accented English. “You must join us for dinner.”

Jada’s mouth fell open. She was a stranger, and the woman didn’t know why she was there. “Um, I just need to call a taxi, if you don’t mind. I can use my cell phone, but if I can wait out of the rain for a little bit, that would be great. Thank you so much.”

The little woman took her arm and all but dragged her toward a hallway off the stairs. She spoke half in English, half in Italian. Jada picked up only a few words, and neither Ettore nor his sister bothered to explain. As they neared what she assumed would be the dining room, the scent of food stirred her hunger. That was one of the drawbacks of her condition, constantly wanting to eat. Then again, it could be psychological. She hadn’t bothered to examine the desire up until now.

Before she knew it, she sat at a dinner table with a family of strangers. No one stirred to either pray over the food or eat. Jada studied each person in silence, formulating a plan. Just when she noticed the two empty place settings, one at the head of the table, the presence in the doorway drew her attention.

“Jada?”

With that one word, uttered with the

Italian lilt and his deep tone, chills raced over her spine, and goose bumps rose on her arms. She turned her gaze from the table to lock with his. In that moment, he spirited away all the air in the room. Her heart beat a tattoo against her ribcage, her mouth went from dry to moist and back again, and her head spun with memories of herself locked in this man’s embrace while he did things to her body no other man had ever done. How the hell had she walked away from him two weeks ago?

Jade cleared her throat and smiled. “Hello, Renzo. How are you?”

His dark brows rose over silver eyes that had made her turn to liquid from day one. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

All conversation around them stopped, and gazes swung back and forth from her to Renzo. Jada shifted in her seat. She noted the curious glances, the speculation about why a black woman Renzo obviously knew sat at their table like she was no more than a lost tourist. That was their mistake, not mine.

Even as she processed these thoughts, she recalled a previous one. There’d been two leftover place settings. Heels clicked in the hallway behind Renzo, and a petite hand circled around his bicep before one of the most beautiful women Jada had ever seen appeared. Fiery red hair as glorious as a lion’s mane accentuated her fragile figure. The way the little beauty clung to Renzo’s side, there was no way she was another sister. Jada clenched her teeth. She’d messed up. Not once had she considered whether Renzo was married. She’d wanted to see him again.

She scraped her chair back and stood. Her cloth napkin fluttered to the floor, and Ettore bent to pick it up. She snatched at the square of material with muttered thanks, not wanting any of them to see how her hands shook. “Um, I think I need to go. Thank you for your hospitality.” She smiled at the family, not pausing to focus on any of them.

Halfway to the door, she stumbled when Renzo’s deep voice rang out. “Everyone, please don’t hold dinner for me. Jada and I will be in my office.”

“But, Renzo,” the redhead whined. “Who is she?”

Renzo reached Jada’s side and took her arm much like his brother had done earlier. He led her from the room and didn’t bother answering the woman who must be his wife or girlfriend. Jada wondered just what the heck she’d landed in and plotted the best way to get out unscathed.

Chapter Two

Renzo leaned on the edge of his desk, arms folded across a powerful chest. The tightening of his arm muscles and the way his slacks stretched over chiseled thighs made Jada wet, but she forced herself to look no lower than his face. Of course, that proved just as bad since his lips reminded her of long nights kissing and sucking on them. She ran a hand over her face, trying to pull herself together. Quite by accident she spotted the tent in his pants and felt so much better. Renzo never hid what he felt when it came to sexual desire. He had no problem with her knowing he wanted her, which drove her need through the roof.

“I didn’t mean to come here,” she began.

A single brow rose into his hairline.

“I mean…damn it, I didn’t mean to disrupt your household. I guess I didn’t think everything through. You had a right to know, so I’m here. Simple as that. We made a mistake.”

Renzo stirred from his post and approached her. She stiffened her back, refusing to be intimidated by his size and her physical reaction to him. He drew up in front of her, not touching, but with his nearness he might as well be. “Slow down. I’m not following, cara mia.”

The second his large hands settled on her arms, she wiggled from his hold. “Listen, what you do behind your wife’s back is your business. If I had known, I damn sure wouldn’t have gotten involved with you, but that’s over now. It’s up to you whether you tell her the truth, but you have a right to know. I’m pregnant. I don’t expect anything from you or any involvement in my baby’s life. Good-bye.”

Jada spun on her heel and started away, but Renzo caught her and drug her into his embrace. She crashed into his chest hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs and parted her lips. The bastard took advantage of her disorientation, slanting his mouth over hers. She raised her hands to ward him off, but instead her stupid fingers curled into the material of his shirt to hang onto him. Renzo’s tongue burrowed between her lips and swept the moist interior. Her knees buckled, but he drew her closer. The world and every person in it ceased to exist from the first taste of him, with his deep, sexy moans as he kissed her, and the strength in his arms.

Her nipples pebbled, making it seem like she didn’t wear a bra. All she could think about was pleading for him to rip them off and take her on his desk. Get a grip, Jada. He doesn’t even respect the woman he’s with not to maul you in his office with her a couple rooms away.

When sanity returned, she wrenched free of his hold and stepped back. Her palm stung from the smack across his cheek. Renzo didn’t flinch, although red stained his handsome face.

“You don’t get to touch me anymore. What we had in Venice is over. Now, I’ve told you about the baby. I’m leaving.”

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