The Pregnant Mistress

“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.”