The Pregnant Mistress

by Sandra Marton

  “No!”

  “Sam—”

  “He doesn’t want children. He as much as said so.”

  Marta struggled to keep her temper under control. This son of a bitch who’d bedded her daughter was a mother’s worst nightmare. Put bluntly, he was, as the old saying went, a hit-and-run artist. Jonas was right. Someone needed to have a little talk with the man.

  “I see,” she said calmly. “He’s not interested in commitment. He’s not interested in children. But he’s going to have a child, whether intended or not. And he’s obligated to face up to his responsibilities.”

  Sam’s color deepened but her gaze didn’t waver. “It’s my responsibility, not his. He asked me about protection. I told him I was on the pill. And—and I slipped up.”

  “So what? Does that mean he gets a free pass? Two people made this baby, Samantha, not one.” Marta made a desperate grab at the last of her composure. “Look, honey, lots of men think they don’t want children until they actually find themselves having them. Isn’t it possible that he has paternal feelings he’s never acknowledged? That he might change his mind if he knew you were pregnant? I’m not talking about his marrying you, Sam. From what you tell me of him, you surely wouldn’t want him for a husband.”

  “His parents separated when he was little.”

  “So what?” Marta folded her arms. “Don’t tell me you were taken in by some Casanova’s tale of childhood angst!”

  “His mother went to live in New York.”

  “Yes, well, if the gentleman’s father was anything like him, I don’t blame the lady.”

  “His father kept custody of their son. Of Demetrios.”

  “Well, if that was the arrangement—”

  “There was no arrangement.” Sam wrapped her arms around herself. The room was warm, filled with midday Texas sun, but she was chilled to the bone. “There was just what his father wanted. He’s Greek. The rules are different. Men still have rights that we don’t even begin to understand. Wealthy, powerful ones, anyway.”

  “And you think that would happen if…? But you just said, Demetrios Karas doesn’t want children.”

  “And you just said that things change, when a man knows he’s fathered a baby.” She waited, let the seconds slip by until she was sure she could go on. “His father permitted his mother to spend two weeks a year with Demetrios.”

  “Two weeks?” Marta shook her head. “No. I mean, things aren’t like that now. Besides, this is the United States, Samantha. There are laws—”

  “Two weeks,” Sam said, her voice rising, “in Athens, where the visits could be supervised. And don’t waste your breath telling me about laws because if there’s one thing the last few months have taught me, it’s that men like Demetrios Karas make their own laws.” She bit her lip, swung away and stared blindly out the window. “He is never to know about this baby.”

  “But Sam—”

  “Never,” Sam said sharply. She turned around. “Promise me, Mom. Swear it.”

  Marta looked at her daughter. There was more to this. The story about his father forcing his mother to give up her child was disturbing but it left lots of questions unanswered. Talk about wealth and power were all very good—married to Jonas Baron, Marta knew a bit about the iron will of men like that. But a strong woman could face down a strong man, and Sam surely knew she’d have the support of the entire extended Baron clan in a legal fight.

  No. There was more, and as she surreptitiously examined her daughter’s face, she suddenly knew what it was. Sam had fallen in love. In love with a man who’d made it clear he’d never love her, who’d broken her heart.

  “Don’t tell Carin and Amanda.”

  “Oh, Sam!”

  “Not yet, okay? Just—just give me time to make some plans.”

  Marta sighed. “All right.”

  “And give me your word you’ll never let Demetrios know he’s fathered my baby.”

  Marta took her little girl in her arms. “He doesn’t deserve to know,” she said grimly, and consoled herself by imagining what she’d do to the man if ever she got her hands on him.

  * * *

  A little more than twenty-four hours later, the al Rashids and the Alvareses descended on Espada, their arrivals so closely aligned that the dust of the first Jeep racing in from the ranch’s private landing strip barely concealed the rising plume of the second.

  Marta kissed her daughters, hugged her sons-in-law and told herself not to have such a suspicious mind. Then she herded them onto the lower level of the waterfall deck, waited until Carmen brought out lemonade and her children had settled into seats before she got down to business.

  “Well.” She looked around, one brow arched in question. “It’s lovely to see you, but I’m too old to believe all of you just happened to pick today to pay a surprise visit.”

  Silence. Then Rafe cleared his throat. “How is Samantha?”

  “She’s fine, thank you for ask…” Marta stared at her son-in-law. “How did you know she was here?”

  “Well,” Amanda said, “she’s not in Greece. At least, she’s not answering her e-mails. So I tried phoning Demetrios, but I could only reach his housekeeper, and she—”

  “She doesn’t speak English,” Nick said, taking his wife’s hand. “Amanda told me she was worried about Sam, so I tried reaching Demetrios at his office. His secretary said he’d gone without leaving a forwarding number, which was strange. He’s never out of touch with his office.”

  “Never,” Rafe said.

  “His secretary didn’t know anything about Sam, so—”

  “So,” said Carin, clearing her throat, “I began calling her apartment in New York, leaving messages on her answering machine, but she didn’t pick them up.” She smiled at her husband. “I told Rafe that Amanda and I were going crazy—”

  “And,” Rafe said, with deceptive carelessness, “I tried this and that and the other thing and finally I spoke to somebody who knew somebody at the Athens airport, and they did some checking…”

  “And we learned that Samantha left Athens and flew to Austin a few days ago,” Nick said. “So, here we are.”

  Marta stared from one innocent face to the other. “Here you are,” she finally said. “Just like that.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with us being here.” Amanda’s tone oozed defense. “We love her. And if something happened that upset her…”

  “Why would you even think that?” Marta narrowed her gaze on her daughter.

  “Well, she left Athens in a hurry,” Carin said carefully. “She hasn’t called us. And she came here, instead of going home. No offense, Mother—”

  “None taken,” said Marta, in a voice that would have turned water to ice.

  “But we all know Sam. She’d sooner eat nails than admit she needed help.”

  “Why would she need help?”

  “Mother,” Amanda said, “for heaven’s sake, must you keep asking ‘why’? All we’re saying is that Sam’s behavior is, well, weird. We love her. We decided to come see if she’s okay.”

  “The four of you flew to Espada, rather than make a simple phone call to the ranch?”

  Carin and Amanda exchanged looks. “Well,” Carin said, “well—”

  “Oh, let’s stop beating around the bush,” Amanda said. “Look, we, uh, we sort of…we kind of…We thought Sam and this man—”

  “Demetrios Karas,” Marta said coolly.

  “Yes. We thought they might hit it off. So we, um, we tried to introduce them. And then Demetrios told Nick he needed a translator, and I mentioned it to Sam, and—”

  “Your sister and Mr. Karas hit if off, all right.” Marta glared at her girls.

  “Oh.” Amanda looked at Carin. “We, uh, we weren’t sure how well they—”

  “A poor choice of words,” Marta said. “Because it isn’t well at all. Samantha is pregnant. And your Demetrios Karas doesn’t want any part of her.”

  Amanda and Carin looked thunderstruck. Rafe and Nick s
urged to their feet, their expressions the same as Jonas’s had been the prior day.

  “Is that right?” Rafe growled.

  “Doesn’t he?” Nick snarled.

  “Dammit,” Sam said furiously, from the lawn below the deck. “Mother, you promised!”

  Everyone rushed to the railing. “Darling,” Marta said, “I swear, I didn’t tell them you were here.”

  “Sam?” Amanda stared at her sister. “Oh, Sam,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry. I never meant—”

  “Why didn’t you want Mother to tell us?” Carin said. “We love you, Sam. We want to help you.”

  “I’ve had enough help from you. All of you.” Sam raised her flushed face and glared at her family. “People shouldn’t meddle in other people’s lives.”

  “Well, we’re going to meddle in Karas’s life,” Nick said, his voice taut with fury. “When I find that son of a bitch—”

  “When we find him,” Rafe said sharply.

  “When we find Karas, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

  The deck door banged open. “Try it,” a hard male voice said. “I hope to hell you do.”

  Demetrios stood in the doorway, face white with rage, eyes hot with it, his fists bunched at his sides.

  “Karas,” Nick said, his voice cold. He stepped forward. So did Rafe. “I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to show up here.”

  “Come on.” Demetrios took a wider stance and beckoned the men towards him. “Come on, take a swing. I’d love to take you on, the both of you.” His voice roughened. “Who in hell are you, any of you, to play God with a man’s life?”

  “What are you doing here?” Rafe demanded.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “It damn well is,” Nick growled. “Answer the question. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to Samantha.”

  “Yeah, well, if you know what’s good for you—”

  “If I did,” Demetrios said gruffly, “I sure as hell wouldn’t…” He hesitated. Some of his belligerence seemed to ease. “Is she here?”

  Nobody answered, but they didn’t have to. Five faces turned towards the lawn. Demetrios moved towards the steps that led down from the deck. Rafe and Nick moved, too, and blocked his way, but he’d already seen her, his Sam, staring up at him as if he were a ghost, and he wondered how she could do this to him, make him want to love her and hate her in the same heartbeat.

  She was going to run. He could see it in her posture, run the way she had the night she’d left him, the way she had when they’d first met, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. She had to face him and tell him why she didn’t want him. He’d tell her the same thing. And then—and then—

  He took a steadying breath and looked at the two men standing in front of him.

  “Get out of my way,” he said softly.

  Rafe folded his arms. So did Nick.

  “This is between Samantha and me, nobody else.” A muscle knotted in his jaw. “If I have to go through you, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach Sam. Is that clear?”

  Marta moved quickly, placed herself between her sons-in-law and Demetrios. She took a long look at the man she’d been prepared to despise. He probably hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and his hair looked as if he’d spent hours running his hands through it. But he was, just as her daughter had said, sexy and gorgeous—and he was looking past all of them, looking at her little girl in a way that would surely make any woman’s heartbeat quicken.

  Sam was looking back at him, her eyes brimming with tears, the only kind of tears a woman should ever cry, Marta thought, and felt her heart lift.

  “Of course it’s clear,” she said softly. “It’s as clear as glass. Rafe? Nicholas? Let him pass.”

  “Marta. You don’t mean that. This man—”

  “I do mean it. Let him pass.” Briskly, she clapped her hands. “Everyone inside.” Her daughters frowned. Their husbands looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Trust me. Samantha’s going to be fine.”

  She shooed them all through the door, knowing they didn’t believe her, that her daughters would argue with her while her sons-in-law paced the house like attack dogs just waiting for a sign that they were needed.

  Marta smiled to herself. Men were so predictable. How come she’d forgotten that?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SAM watched in disbelief as her sisters and her tough-as-nails brothers-in-law went into the house.

  “We want to help you,” Carin had said. Amanda had blinked back tears. And when Demetrios appeared, Rafe and Nick made it sound as if they’d never let him get anywhere near her.

  Instead, they’d disappeared. Even her mother had walked away.

  Wonderful. The very people who’d all but pushed her into Demetrios Karas’s arms had abandoned her. She hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying up on the deck, but everyone’s body language had been simple enough to read. Her mother was upset, her sisters were frantic, their husbands were infuriated…and Demetrios had gotten his way. It would have been hard to believe if she hadn’t seen what he was like when he wanted something.

  When it came to displays of bad temper and arrogant, pigheaded stubbornness, he’d always be the winner.

  Now he was coming down the wide wooden steps, taking his time, looking macho and irate.

  “Sam,” he said.

  His voice was soft, a whisper of smoke in contrast to the banked anger in his eyes.

  “Don’t run, Sam. I’m warning you. I have no intention of letting you get away this time.”

  Don’t run? Was that a new command, a variation on “stay”? Sam lifted her chin. He was right, she’d been going to run, though not for whatever reasons his self-conceit would probably dredge up but the choice was hers, not his.

  She folded her arms, watched as he came down the last step and started towards her. She’d been stunned to see him but now that the shock was over, she was sure she knew the reason he’d come after her. Women didn’t slip out of Demetrios Karas’s bed and steal away in the middle of the night. Maybe it was a good thing he was here. She hadn’t stolen away; she’d simply left him. There was a difference, and he needed to know it…

  But he didn’t need to know she was pregnant. He mustn’t know she was pregnant! Sam felt a stab of panic. In the surprise of the last minutes, she’d forgotten all about that. There were changes in her body, ones she’d finally let herself see—see and love, because her baby had gone from being a nonentity to a new life she longed for.

  He stopped a few feet from her and folded his arms. Sam dragged in a breath. Would her baby look like its father? Would it have his eyes? His dark hair? Would looking at her child always remind her of how deeply she’d loved Demetrios?

  It was stupid to think about that now. Besides, it wasn’t true. She’d only imagined she loved him. What woman in her right mind would love a man like him? All she had to do was look at that infamous scowl to know that there was nothing the least bit lovable about him.

  And even though she felt as if his eyes were burning holes in her, he’d never see that she was pregnant. She was wearing an enormous old T-shirt, a relic of her university days, that hung as shapeless as a tent to her knees. Nobody who looked at her could possibly—

  “Thee mou,” Demetrios whispered. “You are with child!”

  Sam didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran. He was right behind her.

  “Sam? Sam, stop!”

  She ran harder.

  “Sam!” She could hear the whiplash of anger in the way he called out her name. “Samantha, are you crazy? You are pregnant. Pregnant women should not run.”

  She raced through the garden, towards the fountain that stood at its hidden heart.

  “Are you deaf?” he roared, right on her heels. “I am ordering you to stop!”

  That’s it, she thought, that was absolutely, positively it. She spun towards him, her blood hot with fury and frustration.

  �
��Sam,” he said, and she did what she had so often longed to do, raised her hand and slapped his face.

  “Damn you, Demetrios,” she said…except, to her horror, she didn’t say it. She sobbed it. She was weeping, tears spilling from her eyes like rain from the skies that day, all those months ago, when she’d been stupid enough to let him drag her into his life.

  “Kitten,” he whispered, and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

  “Go away.” She put her arms around his neck and clung to him. “Go back to Greece,” she sobbed between kisses. “Get out of my life.”

  “I cannot do that, gataki.” He cupped her face in his hands. He was smiling, she saw, but his eyes were almost as wet as hers. “I am your life, just as you are mine.”

  “You see?” Sam pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You always think you know what I’m thinking. And you don’t. How could you possibly know how much—how much—”

  “I love you,” he said softly. “That is how I know. I adore you, kitten. Se latrévo. I love you more than words can ever say.” He drew back, just enough so he could lay his hand gently over her belly. “And I will love this child with all my heart, and all the children you and I will have together.”

  Sam gave a broken little laugh. “There you go, planning my life for me.”

  “No,” he said gruffly, “never that.”

  “Demetrios.” She reached up and clasped his wrists. “I was teasing you.”

  “And I am serious, sweetheart. I will never make you feel as if your life is mine to control.” He took a deep breath, then expelled it. “My father created a gilded cage for my mother but it was a cage, nevertheless. I will not do that to you. I have a home in New York, Sam. Whenever you wish, we will fly there. If you want to work, you will do so. I love you. I need you. But I do not wish to own you. Do you see?”

  “Yes,” she said, “oh yes, my love, I do. I see that you are my heart, my soul, my life.”

  Demetrios gathered her close and kissed her again. Sam sighed and leaned back in his arms.

  “I didn’t know about the baby when I left you,” she said softly. “Although, to be honest, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I’d have gone anyway. I couldn’t have stayed, not when I thought you wanted to end things between us.”