Pregnant With The Billionaire's Baby

CHAPTER TWO

THE DAY BEFORE her appointment at the hospital was Faith’s day to teach art to the primary schoolers. She’d fallen into the job by accident. Sort of. Faith had told Agata Grisafi how much she loved children and spending time with them, but of course her career did not lend itself to doing so. The older woman had spoken to the principal of her grandson’s school and discovered he would be thrilled to have a successful artist come in and teach classes one day a week to his students.

That’s how it had begun and how Faith had ended up knowing her lover’s mother and son longer than she’d known him. Some people might say Providence had lent a hand, and Faith thought maybe, just maybe they might be right.

Giosue, Tino’s darling eight-year-old son, was in the second group she taught for the day.

He was his normal sweet self, shyly asking her opinion of the drawing he had done of Marsala’s city hall. They were doing a project combining their writing skills and art to give a picture of their city as eight-and nine-year-olds saw it.

“That’s beautiful, Gio.”

“Thank you, signora.”

She moved on to the next child, helping the little girl pick a color for the fish she wanted to draw in the sea so close to Marsala.

It was at the end of class, after all the other children had left, that Giosue came to her desk. “Signora Guglielmo?”

The children called her by the Italian equivalent of William rather than Williams because it was easier for them and she didn’t mind a bit.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

He grinned at the endearment, his cheeks pinkening a little, but so obviously pleased that she made a note to use it again. Sparingly.

No matter how special the place in her heart Tino’s son had, she would not draw attention to it. To do so would embarrass Giosue, most likely infuriate Tino and compromise Faith’s position with the school.

“I would like to invite you to join my family for dinner tonight,” he said formally. It was clear he’d practiced the phrase, as well.

“Does your father know you are inviting me to dinner?” she asked, seriously concerned by this turn of events.

“Yes, signora. He would be very pleased if you came.”

Shock slammed through her. “Did he say that?”

“Oh, yes.” Giosue gave her another of his shy smiles. “He is very pleased I like you so well.”

Hope bubbled through her like an effervescent spring. Perhaps the black cloud over her life was finally dissipating. Was it possible she had a chance at a real family once again—one that would not be taken away from her? The hope scared her so much it hurt. “I would be honored to join you for dinner.”

“Thank you, signora.” Giosue handed her a folded sheet of paper. “My father made you directions for coming, in case you need them.”

She took the paper. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

She’d been there a few times for lunch with Agata, though the older woman preferred to meet in Pizzolato because she loved visiting Faith’s studio. She said she basked in the privilege of seeing the artist’s work before it was finished.

“It was my idea to make the map. I helped Papa with it.”

That was her cue to open it and marvel over the drawing, which had obviously been done by a child’s hand. The detailed written instructions were in Tino’s distinctive slashing scrawl, however.

“You did a wonderful job, Gio. I particularly like the grapevines with grapes on them you drew to show me what to expect to see.”

“They are ripening on the vines now. Nonno said they will be ready to harvest when he gets back from Naples maybe.”

“If your grandfather says it, than I am sure he is right.”

“He is a master winemaker,” Giosue said proudly.

“Yes. Do you help with the harvest?”

“Some. Nonno takes me into the fields with him. Papa does not work the fields, but that is okay. Nonno says so.”

“Your father’s gift is for the business side of things, I think.”

“Nonno says Papa is very good at making money,” Giosue replied artlessly.

Faith laughed. “I’m sure he is.”

“He can support a family. Nonna says so.”

“I’m sure he can.” Was Giosue matchmaking? Faith held in the smile that wanted to break over her features. She did not want to hurt Giosue by making him think she was laughing at him.

“She thinks he should marry again. She is his mama, he has to listen to her, I think.”

It was really hard to bite back the laugh at that, but she did not think Tino would share his son’s view on this particular subject. “What do you think, Gio?”

“I think I would like a mother who is not so far away in Heaven.”

She couldn’t help it. She reached out and touched him. Just a small pat on the shoulder, but she wanted to hug him to her. “I understand, Gio. I really do.”

He cocked his head to one side. “You never talk about family.”

“I don’t have any.” Her hand slid down to her stomach. She hadn’t. Before. But now, maybe she did.

“You have no mama, either?”

“No. I prayed for one, but it was not God’s will.” She shrugged.

“Do you think I will have another mother?”

“I hope so, Gio.”

“Me, too, but only if I could love her.”

Smart boy. “I’m sure your father wouldn’t marry a woman you couldn’t love as a mama, too.”

“She would have to love me also.” Giosue looked at her through his lashes, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

Sweet little boy. “You are very lovable, that would not be a problem, I’m sure.”

The next group of children came rushing into the room along with Giosue’s teacher, who was apparently looking for her missing lamb.

“I will see you tonight?” he asked as he crossed the room to join his teacher at the door.

“Yes.”

He was grinning as he exited the room.

So, Tino’s son was matchmaking. With her. And seemingly, he had Tino’s tacit approval. Unbelievable. The prospect terrified her as much as it thrilled her. Had she suffered enough? Was she done being alone?

Somehow, she couldn’t quite picture it.

If nothing else, Tino was allowing her into another aspect of his life. The most important one to him. That was so huge, she could barely wrap her mind around it.

The fact that he was doing so without knowing about the baby boggled her mind even more.

He might not love her, but she had a different place in his life than any woman had since the death of his wife six years ago.

* * *

FAITH CONCENTRATED ON the strains of classical music filling her Mini. At least, she tried to. She was extremely nervous about this dinner. She shouldn’t be. Over the past year, they’d discovered that she and Tino were compatible in and out of bed. She and Giosue got along great in the classroom as well. It should all be good.

Only, telling herself that didn’t make the butterflies playing techno music in her stomach go away. This was the two of them together. Tino and Giosue. The three of them really.

How they interacted would dictate a big chunk of her future; she was sure of it. Tino had to be testing the waters and, as absolutely inconceivable as she found that, it sort of fit in with his odd behavior lately.

He’d called her again today. She’d missed the call and when she’d tried to return it he’d been in a meeting. His message had simply said he’d been thinking of her.

Seriously strange.

If he’d said he’d been thinking of sex with her, she wouldn’t have been surprised at all. The man had the libido of an eighteen-year-old. Sex was a really important part of his life. Important enough that he pursued it even though he had said he never wanted to remarry or get serious with a woman.

But he hadn’t said he was missing the sex. He’d said he was missing her. Well, they would be together again soon enough. And then they would see what they would see.

Her phone rang, playing his distinctive ringtone. She never answered when she was driving, so she forced herself to ignore it. Besides, she was almost to Grisafi Vineyard. He could say whatever he wanted when she got there. Most likely, he was calling to see where she was.

But she wasn’t late.

Well, not much, anyway. Maybe ten minutes. He had to be used to her sketchy time-keeping skills by now. It was one of the reasons that she loved living in Sicily. Tino was very un-Sicilian in his perfect punctuality and rigid schedule keeping. She’d teased him about it more than once.

He’d told her he had no choice, doing business on an international scale. She suspected it was in his nature and that was that.

She couldn’t see Tino changing for the convenience of others, not even when it came to making money.

She turned down the long drive that led to Casa di Fede. Faith House. She’d thought it was neat the house shared her name when she’d first come to visit Agata. Later, when she realized Tino lived here, she’d seen it as an indication they were meant to be together. Even if it was temporary.

Thinking about the coincidence sent another bubble of hope fizzing through her. Maybe it meant something more than what she’d thought. He and his family were wrapped around her life, and she was threaded through his, in ways neither had anticipated or even wanted at first.

She pulled up in front of the sprawling farmhouse. It had been in the family for six generations and been built onto almost that number of times until it had two master suites, one in its own wing with two additional bedrooms. There were four more bedrooms in the rest of the house, a formal salon, a family entertainment room that opened onto the lanai beside the oversize two-tiered pool and spa area, a huge kitchen, a library and two offices.

One was Tino’s, and the smaller, less-organized one was his father’s. Agata used the library as her office when she was working on her charity work. She had her own sitting room off the master suite, as well.

Faith had learned all of this on her previous visits with the older woman. What she hadn’t known was how overwhelming she would find the familiar home now that she was here to share dinner with Tino and his son. She sat in her car, staring at the proof of generations of Grisafis living in the same area. Proof of Tino’s roots and his wealth. Proof that he already had what she had most craved her whole life.

A family.

The prospect that he might be willing to share all that with her was almost more than she could take. Terrifying didn’t begin to describe it. Because even if Valentino Grisafi wanted her in his life, she of all people knew there was no guarantee she could keep him. No more than she’d kept the father she never knew, or her mother, or the first family that said they would adopt her, or Taylish…or her unborn son, Kaden.

Dwelling on the pain of the past had never helped her before; she knew it wasn’t about to start now. She needed to let the past go and hope for the future, or her own fears were going to destroy her chance at happiness.

With that resolved, she opened her car door. Her phone trilled Tino’s ringtone again as she stepped out of the car.

She flipped it open. “Wow, I know you’re impatient, but this is borderline obsessive, Tino. I’m here already.”

“I merely wished to—”

She rang the bell and he stopped talking.

“It is the doorbell. I must let you go.”

Shaking her head at that, she shrugged and disconnected the call.

He opened the door and then stood there staring at her as if she was an apparition—of not particularly friendly aspect. In truth, he looked absolutely horrified.

“Faith!”

“The last time I looked, yes.”

“What are you doing here?” He shook his head. “It does not matter. You need to leave. Now.”

“What? Why?”

“This is my fault.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I can see where my phone calls may have given you the wrong impression.”

“That you might be impatient to see me?”

“Yes, I am. I was. But not here. Not now.”

“Tino, you aren’t making any sense.”

“This is not a good time, Faith. I need you to leave now.”

“Won’t Gio be disappointed?”

“Gio…why would you ask about my son? Look, it doesn’t matter, we have a dinner guest coming.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. I’m here.”

“This is no time for jokes, carina.”

“Tino, you’re starting to worry me.” Really. Definitely. Positive that Giosue would not lie and say his father had approved inviting her for dinner, she was flummoxed. Besides, hadn’t Tino helped his son make the map? What was going on? “Tino—”

“Signora!” An excited little boy voice broke into the bizarre conversation. “You are here!”

Giosue rushed past his father to throw his arms around Faith in a hug. She returned the embrace with a smile, loving the naturally affectionate nature of most of the Sicilians she had met.

Tino stood there looking at them in abject horror.

Giosue stepped back, self-consciously straightening his button-up shirt. He’d dressed up for the dinner in an outfit close to the uniform he wore to school of obviously higher quality and minus the tie. He looked like a miniature version of his father, who was wearing custom-tailored brown slacks with a champagne-colored dress shirt—untucked, the top button undone.

The clothes were absolutely yummy on the father and adorable on the son.

Faith was glad she’d taken the time to change from the clothing she wore to teach in. Her dress was made from yellow silk batiked by a fellow artist with strands of peacock blue, sunset orange and even a metallic dye with a gold cast. Faith had fallen in love with the silk when she’d seen it at an artists’ fair and had to buy it. She’d had it made into a dress of simple design with spaghetti straps that highlighted her curves and made her feel deliciously feminine. A new addition to her wardrobe, Tino had not yet seen it.

Regardless of his other reactions to her arrival, that certain gleam she knew so well in her lover’s eyes said he approved her choice.

Unaware of the strange overtones to the adults’ conversation, Gio took her hand and held it. “Papa, this is Signora Guglielmo.” Then the boy smiled up at her with pure innocence. “Signora, this is my papa, Signor Valentino Grisafi.”

“Your papa and I have met,” Faith said, when Tino remained silent and frozen like a statue. An appalled statue.

“You have?” Gio looked confused, maybe even a little hurt. “Papa told me he did not know you. Nonna told him he would like you though.”

“I did not realize that Signora Guglielmo was the woman I know as Faith Williams.” He looked at her accusingly, as if it was her fault.

“You are friends?” Giosue asked.

Faith waited to hear what her lover would say to that.

Tino looked from her to his son, his expression impossible to read. “Si. We are friends.”

Giosue’s face broke out into a grin and he giggled. “You didn’t know? Truly?”

“Truly.”

“That is a good joke, isn’t it, Papa?”

“A good joke indeed,” Tino agreed, sounding anything but amused.

Faith wasn’t feeling too lighthearted, either. Tino hadn’t approved inviting her for dinner. He hadn’t written those directions out with her in mind to use them. He’d had no intention of inviting her into an aspect of his life he had heretofore kept separate from her. In fact, he was clearly dismayed and not at all happy by this evening’s turn of events.

He’d approved inviting his son’s teacher. Another woman. A woman who Tino would have been told by his son and mother was single, near him in age and attractive (or so Agata said every time she lamented Faith’s unwed state). If the fact that Giosue had been matchmaking was obvious to Faith, it had to have been just as apparent to his father. Add to that the little detail that Agata had patently put her two cents in, and Faith was painting a picture in her mind that held no gratification for her.

Tino had approved inviting to dinner a woman his son and mother were obviously hoping he would find more than a little interesting.

All of the little pipe dreams Faith had been building since spending the night for the first time at Tino’s flat, crashed and burned.

But she wasn’t a wimp. Far from it. She’d taken a lot more that life had to dish out without giving up. She was here now. And she had important motivation to make this evening work in spite of her lover’s negative reaction to her appearance.

Perhaps if Tino saw how good they could be together around his family, he’d rethink the parameters on their relationship. Then telling him about the baby wouldn’t be so hard.

And maybe the Peruvian rain forest would freeze over in a freak weather anomaly tonight, too.

Okay, that kind of negative thinking wasn’t going to do her any good. She had to think positive. No matter what, she wasn’t about to beg off dinner. That would hurt Giosue, and Faith didn’t let children down. Ever.

She’d experienced that particular phenomenon too many times herself to inflict it on the young people in her life.

She gave both males her best winning smile and asked, “May I come in now, or were you planning to have dinner on the front porch?”

Giosue laughed and dragged her over the threshold, forcing his father to move out of the way or get knocked into. “We’re eating outside, but in back, silly signora.”

“And did you cook, Gio?”

“I helped. Ask Papa.”

She looked back over her shoulder at the silent man following their progress through the house.

“Indeed he did. He is a favorite with our housekeeper.”

“It’s easy to understand why. Gio’s a little charmer.”

“Signora!” Gio exclaimed in the long-suffering tone only an eight-year-old boy could affect so perfectly.

“Do not tell me it embarrasses you to discover your favorite teacher also holds you in high regard,” his father teased him.

The boy shrugged, blushing, but said nothing. Faith’s heart melted a little more toward him. He would make such a wonderful stepson and big brother. But she was getting ahead of herself. By light-years.

“So, what are we having for dinner?” she asked.

Especially after realizing Tino had not intended to invite her to dinner. That he had, in fact, been wholly ignorant of her relationship with his son and mother.

“Wait until you see. I got to stuff the manicotti. The filling is yummy.”

Giosue was right, the manicotti was delicious. As was everything else, and the company wasn’t bad, either. Tino started off a little stiff, but being around his son relaxed him. As hard as he so plainly tried to keep things between himself and Faith distant, his usual behavior got the better of him. He touched her when he talked to her, nothing overtly sexual. Just the normal affectionate-Sicilian-nature style, but it felt good—right.

Gio asked tons of questions about her art, questions there wasn’t time for during class. Several times she caught Tino looking surprised by her answers. But then, he knew almost nothing about that part of her life. For the first time that really bothered her. Her art made up the biggest part of her life and he was sadly ignorant of it.

That realization, more than anything else, put the nature of their relationship into perspective. While his behavior lately might indicate it was changing, theirs was still primarily a sexually based connection.

“You are asking so many questions, amorino, I am beginning to think you wish to grow up to be an artist.”

“Oh, no, Papa, I want to be a winemaker like Nonno.”

“Not a businessman and vintner like your papa?” Faith asked.

“He will have to have another son to do that. I want to get my hands dirty,” Giosue said with absolute certainty.

Rather than take offense, Tino laughed aloud. “He sounds just like my father.” He shook his head, the amusement still glittering in his eyes. “However, there will be no brothers, or sisters either. Perhaps Calogero will finally marry and have children, but if not—when I get too old to do my job, we will have to hire a business manager.”

“You will never be too old, Papa.”

Tino just smiled and ruffled his son’s hair. “You know there is nothing to stop you from making art a hobby while you follow in your grandfather’s footsteps. Isn’t that right, Faith?”

She was still reeling from the dead-on surety in Tino’s tone when he said there would be no sisters or brothers for Giosue, but she managed to nod and smile at the expectant little boy.