Baby Mine by Tressie Lockwood Page A

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