The Italian's Pregnant Virgin Read online

  “Take a breath,” he whispered in her ear just before they walked in. She complied, her shoulders lifting with a great gasp. “See that you don’t die before dessert.”

  And then he propelled her inside.

  His mother was there, dressed in sequins, looking far too young to have two grown children, one grandchild and another on the way. His father was there, looking every bit his age, stern-faced and distinguished, and likely a portrait of Renzo’s own fate in thirty years.

  “Hello,” his mother said, not standing, which Renzo knew was calculated in some way or another. “So nice to meet you, Esther,” his mother said, using Esther’s first name, which he had no doubt was as calculated as the rest. “Allegra, Cristian, so glad you could come. And that you brought my favorite grandchild.”

  “Your only grandchild,” Allegra said, taking her seat while Cristian set about to setting their daughter in a booster seat that had already been put in place for her.

  All of this was like salt in a wound. He loved his niece, but there was a particular kind of pain that always came when he was around small children. And when his parents said things like this...about their only grandchild...that pain seemed insurmountable.

  “Not for long, though,” Allegra continued. “Unless Renzo hasn’t told you?”

  “He has not. Good. Well, at least now we’re all up to speed.” His mother gave Renzo a very pointed look. “Do you have any other surprises for us?”

  “Not at the moment,” he said.

  Dinner went on smoothly, their mother and father filling up most of the conversation, and Renzo allowing his brother-in-law to take any of the gaps that appeared. Cristian was a duke, and his title made him extremely interesting to Renzo and Allegra’s parents.

  Then suddenly, his father’s focus turned to Renzo. “I suppose we will see both you and Esther at the charity art exhibit in New York in two weeks?”

  Damn. He had forgotten about that. His father was a big one for philanthropy, and he insisted that Renzo make appearances at these types of events. Not because his father believed firmly in charity in a philosophical sense, but because he believed in being seen as someone who did. Oh, he wasn’t completely cold-blooded, and truly, it didn’t matter either way. A good amount of money made it into needy hands regardless.

  But bringing Esther to New York, having her prepared to attend such a land mine–laden event with very little preparation was... Well, just thinking about it was difficult.

  More than just the Esther complication, there was always the Jillian complication. Or worse, Samantha. They split their time between Italy and the States, so the probability of seeing them was...high.

  But he’d weathered that countless times. Esther was his chief concern. She would probably end up hiding under one of the buffet tables, or perhaps eating a bowl of chocolate mousse on the floor. Thankfully, it would be at night, so there would be no sunbeams for her to warm herself beneath.

  “Of course,” he said, answering as quickly as possible, before Esther opened her mouth. He had to make it seem as though they had discussed this. That he had not in fact forgotten about the existence of this event—one that he attended every year—due to the fact that he had been shocked by the news of a stranger carrying his child.

  “Excellent,” his father said. “I do find that it’s much better for a man such as yourself to attend with a date.”

  “Why is that?”

  “So you aren’t on the prowl for women when you should be on the prowl for business connections.”

  That shot from his father surprised him. Especially in front of Esther. His father was typically the more restrained of his two parents. Still, he was hardly going to let the old man see that it had surprised him. “You live in the Dark Ages, Father,” he said. “Sometimes, women are in high-powered positions of business, in which case, my being single helps quite a bit. However, Esther will not be an impediment, on that you are correct.”

  “Certainly not,” his father said. “If anything, she will be something of an attraction to those jaded big fish you intend to catch.”

  “Are you going to be there, Father?”

  “No. When I said I hoped to see you there, I meant only that I hope to see your photograph in the newspaper.”

  Renzo couldn’t help but laugh at that. And after that, conversation went smoothly through dessert. At least, until they were getting ready to go. A staff member waylaid Esther, a maneuver that Renzo fully took notice of only when his father cornered him near the front door.

  “I do hope this isn’t some sort of elaborate joke like your last relationship seems to have been,” his father said.

  “Why would it be?”

  “She is a lovely girl. She’s a far cry from the usual vacuous model types you choose to associate yourself with. I had to cut ties with one of my grandchildren already, Renzo, lest you forget.”

  “You didn’t have to. You felt it was necessary at the time and you convinced me the same was true. Don’t pretend that you have regrets now, old man,” Renzo said, his tone hard. “Not when you were so emphatic about the need for it all those years ago.”

  “What I’m saying is that you best marry this girl. And that marriage best stick. A divorce, Renzo. You had a divorce. And a child outside of wedlock that none of us can ever acknowledge.”

  “What will you do if I disappoint you again, Father? Find the secret to immortality and deny me my inheritance?”

  “Your brother-in-law is more than able to take over the remainder of the business that is not yet under your control. If you don’t want to lose dominion over the Valenti Empire upon the event of my death, I suggest you don’t disappoint me.”

  His father moved away from him swiftly then, and Esther came to join him standing by the door. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, blindsided completely by the entire evening.

  And he knew he now had no choice in the matter. This farce would not be enough. It had to be more. His father was threatening his future, and not just his, that of his child.

  Esther Abbott was going to have to become his wife, whether she wanted to or not.

  And he knew exactly how to accomplish it. He had seen the way she had reacted to his touch back at his villa. He knew that she wasn’t immune to him. And a woman like her, naive, vulnerable, would not be immune to the emotions that would come with the physical seduction.

  It was ruthless, even for him. He preferred honesty. Preferred to let the women he got involved with know exactly what they were in for. Preferred to let them know that emotion was never going to be on the table. That love was never going to be a factor.

  But he would offer her marriage, and she could hardly ask for more than that. In this instance, what would the harm be?

  There was no other option. He was going to have to make Esther Abbott fall in love with him. And the only way to accomplish that would be seduction.

  “Come on, Esther,” he said, holding out his arm, “it is time for us to go home.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ESTHER WAS USED to the breakneck pace of working in the bar. Going out every night and working until closing time was demanding. But the routine of getting ready, polishing herself from head to toe, so that she could go out with Renzo for a dinner in Rome, was something else entirely. And it was almost no less exhausting.

  Being on show was such a strange thing. She was used to being ignored. Invisible.

  But two nights ago they had gone to his parents’ house, and the scrutiny she had been put under there had been unlike anything she’d experienced since she’d lived at home and it had always seemed as though her father was trying to look beneath her skin for evidence of defiance, sin or vice.

  Then, last night they had gone out again to a very nice restaurant, and Renzo had explained to her exactly what the charity event in New York was, and how she would be accompanying him.

  Tonight, they were going to another dinner, though Renzo had not explained the purpose of this one. And it
made her slightly nervous. He had also made her a doctor’s appointment at a private clinic, not the one that Ashley had used. But one that he had chosen himself. Based on, he claimed, the doctor’s reputation for discretion.

  It seemed ridiculous to have to get dressed up for a doctor’s appointment, but Renzo had explained that they would be going out afterward, so she would have to dress appropriately for dinner beforehand.

  So, here she was now, sitting in the back of a limousine, being driven out to her appointment where Renzo was supposed to meet her. She was wearing lipstick.

  The limo came to a stop, and she was deposited in front of a building that seemed far too polished to be a simple medical clinic. But then, Ashley had been aiming for a different kind of discretion when they had gone to the surrogacy clinic.

  The driver opened the door for her, and she realized that she had to get out. Even though she just wanted to keep sitting there. For one horrifying second she wondered if she was going to go into the clinic, lie down on the doctor’s table, and he was going to tell her the baby was gone.

  For some reason, in that moment, the thought made her feel bereft. She wasn’t sure why it should. Maybe for Renzo? Because he was rearranging his life for this child?

  Or maybe, it’s because you aren’t ready to let go of the baby?

  No, that was unthinkable. She wasn’t attached to this. She just felt natural protectiveness. It was a hormone thing. She was sure of that. But she couldn’t remember feeling sick for the last couple of days, not even a little bit of nausea, and she wondered if that was indicative of something bad. She wondered that even while she spoke to the woman at the front desk and was ushered into a private waiting room.

  She wrung her hands, jiggling her leg, barely able to enjoy the opulence of the surroundings. She tried. She really did. Because she had purposed to be on this journey. To enjoy this little window into something that would always and forever be outside her daily experiences.

  She didn’t know when she had started to care. At least not in a way that extended beyond the philosophical. That extended past her feeling like she had to preserve the life inside her out of a sense of duty. She only knew that it had.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have a whole lot of time to ruminate on that, because just then, Renzo entered the room. There was something wild and stormy in his gaze that she couldn’t guess at. But then, that was nothing new. She didn’t feel like she could ever guess what he was thinking.

  “Where is the doctor?” He didn’t waste any time assessing the situation and deciding it was lacking.

  “I don’t know. But I imagine it won’t be much longer.”

  “It is a crime that you have been kept waiting at all,” he said, his tone terse.

  She hugged herself just a little bit more tightly, anxiety winding itself around her stomach. “You weren’t here anyway. It didn’t matter particularly whether or not the doctor materialized before you, did it?”

  “You could have been preparing for the exam.”

  Esther didn’t say anything. She could only wonder if Renzo was experiencing similar feelings to hers. It seemed strange to think that he would, but then, also not so strange. It was his baby. It actually made more sense than her being nervous.

  “Ms. Abbott,” a woman said, sticking her head through the door. “The doctor is ready to see you now.”

  Esther took a deep breath, pushing herself into a standing position. She was aware of walking toward the door on unsteady legs, and then hyperaware of Renzo reaching out and cupping her elbow, steadying her. “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You look like a very light breeze could knock you over.”

  “I’m fine,” she reiterated. Even though she wasn’t certain if she was.

  Renzo let the line of conversation go, but he did not let go of her arm. Instead, he held on to her all the way down the private hallway and into the exam room.

  “Remove your clothing and put on this gown,” the nurse said. “The doctor will be in in just a few moments.”

  Esther looked at Renzo, her gaze pointed. But he didn’t seem to take the hint.

  “Can you leave?” she asked, the moment the nurse was out of sight.

  “Why should I leave? You are my fiancée, after all.”

  “Your fiancée in name only. You and I both know that this child was not conceived in the...in the...the usual way that children are conceived. You don’t have any right to look at me while I’m undressing. I couldn’t say that in front of the stylist the other day, but I will say it now.”

  “I will turn,” he said, his tone dry. And he did.

  She took a deep breath, her eyes glued to his broad back, and she began to remove her clothing. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her. The feeling of undressing in the same room as a man was so shockingly intimate.

  Everything had happened so quickly during her little makeover the other day. And while she had been embarrassed that he was looking at her body, she hadn’t fully processed all of her feelings. Right now, she could process them all a bit too well.

  From the dull thud of her heart, to the fluttering of her pulse at the base of her throat. The way that her fingers felt clumsy, numb, but everything else on her body felt hypersensitive and so very warm, tingly.

  She could sense him. More than just seeing him standing in front of her, he felt all around her. As though he took up every corner of the room, even though she knew such a thing wasn’t possible.

  Finally, she got all of her clothes off, and stood there for a moment. Just a moment. Long enough to process the fact that she was standing naked in a room with this powerful man, who was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit.

  It was such a strange contrast. She had never felt more vulnerable, more exposed or...stronger, than she did in that moment. And she could not understand all of those contrasting things coming together to create one feeling.

  She picked up the hospital gown and slipped it onto her shoulders, then got up onto the plush table that was so very different from the other table she had been on just a few months ago. “This is different,” she said. “From the clinic in Santa Firenze.”

  He turned then, not asking if he could. But she had a feeling that Renzo was not a man accustomed to asking for much. “In what way?”

  “Well, I get the feeling that Ashley was doing her best to keep all of this from getting back to you. So, she opted for discreet. But not like this. It was...rustic?”

  His lip curled. “Excellent. She took you to a bargain fertility clinic.” His hands curled into fists. “If I ever get my hands on her...”

  “Don’t. The fact that she is who she is is punishment enough, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “I suppose it is.”

  There was a firm knock on the door, followed by the door opening quickly. Then, the doctor—a small woman with her hair pulled back into a tight bun—walked into the room. “Ms. Abbott, Mr. Valenti, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m very pleased to be helping you along with your pregnancy.”

  After introductions were made, and Esther’s vitals were taken, the woman had Esther lie down on the table, then she placed a towel over Esther’s lap and pushed the hospital gown up to the bottom of her rib cage.

  “We’re going to do an ultrasound. To establish viability, listen to the heartbeat and get a look at the baby.”

  Anxiety gripped her. This was the moment of truth, she supposed. The moment where she found out if those prickling fears she’d had in the waiting room were in any way factual. Or if they were just vague waves of anxiety, connected to nothing more but her general distrust of the situation.

  She really hoped it was the second.

  The doctor squirted some warm gel onto her stomach, then placed the Doppler on her skin. She moved the wand around until Esther caught sight of a vague fluttering on the monitor next to her. Her breath left her body in a great gust, relief washing over her. “That’s the heart,” she asked, “isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the
doctor said, flipping a switch and letting a steady thumping sound fill the room. “There it is.”

  It was strange, like a rhythmic swishing, combined with a watery sound in the back. The Doppler moved, and the sound faded slightly.

  “I’m just trying to get a good look.” She kept on moving the Doppler around, and new images flashed onto the screen, new angles of the baby that she carried. But Esther couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it. She had no experience with ultrasounds.

  “Do either of you have a history of twins in your family?”

  The question hit Esther square in the chest, and she struggled to come up with any response that wasn’t simply why.

  She didn’t. But she knew that the question didn’t actually pertain to her, since the child she was carrying wasn’t hers. “I...”

  “No,” Renzo said, his tone definitive. “However... The baby was conceived elsewhere through artificial means. If that has any impact on what you’re about to say.”

  “Well, that does increase the odds of such things,” the doctor said. “And that is in fact what it looks like here. Twins.”

  All of the relief that had just washed through Esther was gone now, replaced by wave after wave of thundering terror. Twins? There was no way she could be carrying twins. That was absurd.

  Here she had been worried that she had lost one baby, that they would look inside her womb and see nothing, when they had actually found an extra baby.

  “I don’t understand,” Esther said. “I don’t understand at all. I don’t understand how it could be twins. I’ve been to the doctor before to have the pregnancy checked on...”

  “These things are easy to miss early on. Especially if they were just looking at heartbeats with the Doppler.”

  She felt heat rush through her face. “Yes,” she confirmed.

  “I understand that it’s a bit of a shock.”

  “It’s fine,” Renzo said, his tone hard, belying that calm statement. “I have more than enough means to handle such things. I’m not at all concerned. Of course we are able to care for twins.”