New Arrivals: His Expectant Mistress: Accidentally Pregnant! / One-Night Pregnancy / One Tiny Miracle...

When they arrived, he walked her to a door where they entered a spacious, elegantly furnished office with a superb view of the sea. Oriental rugs covered the inlaid wood flooring. It resembled a drawing room with paintings, a coffee table, matching love seats, occasional chairs and a library of books.

Vincenzo walked around the large oak desk and buzzed someone on his intercom. On the wall behind him hung an enormous oil painting dominating the room. Inside its ornate gold frame stood the full-length representation of the duke of La Spazia in his royal refinery. He was probably in his fifties when it was painted.

“What do you think?” Vincenzo had slipped his arms around her waist from behind. “See a resemblance?”

“Maybe in his body type,” she ventured, slightly breathless because she’d been craving this closeness since they’d left the doctor’s office. Whether it was unconscious or not, his hand slid to her stomach and caressed her, as if he wanted to feel proof of the baby growing inside her. The intimacy of the moment caught her off guard and made her tremble.

He smoothed the hair away and planted kisses along the side of her neck. “I’m glad you didn’t say his arrogance or swagger. Otherwise I would have been crushed.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

He spun her around so fast, her head reeled. His blue eyes smoldered with desire before he lowered his mouth, kissing her with almost primitive hunger. This was what she’d been craving. It matched her needs that had been growing since their honeymoon.

To go to bed alone night after night in that hotel room suite knowing Vincenzo was only a wall away had been beyond hard. But she’d wanted Dino to enjoy that special time with his father and not feel threatened by her.

Voluptuous warmth filled her body. She didn’t know where one kiss ended and another one began. Irena was so far gone she didn’t realize that anyone had come in until she heard a discreet coughing sound from the other side of the room.

Vincenzo slowly relinquished her mouth. With his gaze still fastened on her he said, “Come all the way in, Papa, and meet my wife. Irena Liapis Valsecchi. This is my father, Guilio.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse. She eased away from him and turned toward the door leading to the private elevator. Her first glimpse of his father gave her some idea of what Vincenzo would look like when he reached his seventies.

Guilio Valsecchi was a handsome man with streaks of silver in his thinning black hair. Their builds were very much the same, but the ravages of illness had taken their toll. He no longer had his son’s vitality.

Vincenzo’s father drew closer. His biting brown eyes scrutinized her. Like his son he could almost make you believe he could see through you. He might be suffering physically, yet neither age nor cancer had robbed him of that aura of authority inherent in his son.

He reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’ve been anxious to meet the woman who brought about this miracle,” he said in English.

“Miracle?” she inquired softly.

“I never thought the day would come when Vincenzo would change his mind and follow in my footsteps.” His gaze flicked to the painting. “My ancestor had a healthy fear of powerful women.” He eyed her again. “After talking with Dino about you, I can understand why. He believes you love him as if he were your little boy.”

Irena swallowed hard. “He’s very easy to love.”

Guilio pursed his lips. “My daughter-in-law is having a difficult time.”

Irena already knew that, but was surprised this would be the first thing he had to say to her, except that knowing Vincenzo even for such a short time, she shouldn’t have been caught off guard. Her husband had shocked her with his frank speaking every step of the way since their first meeting.

“I don’t blame her. There’s a fine line between a mother wanting everyone to love her child and accepting the fact that there’s another woman, unrelated, whose love for that child goes deeper than the surface.”

Judging by the strange flicker coming from the depths of his eyes, he didn’t know if he liked her answer or not. “What do you know about being a mother?”

The question assaulted her body, a body that was already carrying a child. Would she come to know this baby? Would the test be a success, or would she lose this precious baby growing inside her? The fear at such a loss almost overwhelmed her, but she fought to stay composed. “Only what I learned from having a wonderful role model in my mother.”

Vincenzo slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Why don’t you ask her about business, Papa? She grew up with an illustrious father who’s one of the most revered businessmen in all Greece. Chief among his holdings is Athens’s most prestigious newspaper. She grew up with it and worked in every department.”

His father stared from one to the other without saying anything.

“Until two months ago she headed the coveted position of lifestyle editor, traveling all over eastern and western Europe. The photographer who came to Italy with her told me Irena has been her father’s right hand for years.”

Irena didn’t know the two men had shared confidences about her.

“Rumor has it that when he’s ready to step down, her father will name her to succeed him, but it’s too late for that.”

“How so?” his father finally spoke.

“Because I’ve made her my new cochair. She’s going to help me run Valsecchi’s. I’ve been single too long and do not want to be separated from my new wife now I have found her. Instead, we will work and travel together.”

Irena almost dropped on the spot. She was surprised his father hadn’t reached for a chair.