Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride. Catherine Spencer

you love me? Can you make me your wife?” Something inside him shattered. “No.” “Then you can’t fix it.”

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      FAITH spent the next few days in a borderline state where the numbness of loss fought the tendrils of hope each day her pregnancy continued. She missed Tino. She wanted him—both emotionally and physically. She craved his touch, but not in a sexual way, and he didn’t want her to give him anything else. She wanted to be held, cuddled and comforted as her body went through the changes pregnancy brought. She wanted someone to talk to in the evenings when she found herself too tired to create but too restless to sleep.

      She had not realized how much his presence in her life staved off the loneliness, until he was gone. She found herself in a pathetic state of anticipation every time she spoke to Agata, hoping the Sicilian woman would drop news about her oldest son.

      Faith’s morning sickness had gotten worse the past few days, but she was more adamant than ever she would not give up her job teaching. She’d lost Tino. She didn’t think she could stand to lose her only contact with his son, as well. When had the little boy become so important to her? She didn’t know, but she could not deny that the love she felt for the child growing inside her was in equal intensity for the emotion she felt toward her former lover’s son.

      One evening, almost a week after Tino had left her apartment, she got a phone call from Agata.

      “Ciao, bella. How are you?”

      “Fine.”

      “You were not home today.”

      “No, I went shopping in Marsala.” She’d needed to get out. To be around other people. There were moments when she felt she was going mad from loneliness.

      “I stopped by hoping to have lunch.”

      “Oh,” Faith said with genuine regret. “I’m so sorry I missed you.”

      “Yes, well, I would only have begged you to show me your work.”

      Faith laughed. “Soon.” She knew just how she was going to announce her pregnancy to her dear friend, but not until the risky first trimester was past.

      How she was going to tell Agata that the baby was Tino’s was less clear however.

      “I would like that.” There was an emotional note in Agata’s tone that surprised Faith, but maybe it shouldn’t have.

      She’d never known another human being as connected to her art as the older woman. Not even Taylish had understood the emotion behind the pieces the way Agata did.

      “So, how about lunch tomorrow?” Agata asked.

      “That would be lovely.”

      They rang off and Faith turned to face her empty apartment, wondering if her newfound evening nausea would allow her to eat an evening meal.

      Valentino’s mother took the seat beside where he watched his son frolic in the pool with his papa.

      The worried expression on her face concerned Valentino. He knew she had planned to call Faith. “Mama, what is the matter?”

      His mother twisted her hands in an uncharacteristic display of nerves but did not answer.

      “Mama.”

      She looked up as if just realizing he was sitting there. “Oh, did you say something, son?”

      “I asked if there was anything the matter.”

      “Nothing bad. Well, there may well be ramifications, but I’m in a quandary and do not know what to do.”

      “About what?” he asked with some impatience. Was this about Faith?

      His mother sighed heavily. “I did something I should not have.”

      “What?”

      “I do not think I should say.”

      Valentino waited patiently. He knew his mother. She would not have said anything if she did not want to confess to someone. Apparently, he was that someone. And if it was related to Faith in any way, he was glad.

      Not that he should be pining over the woman who dumped him like yesterday’s garbage. She’d thrown down her ultimatum and he had refused terms. She’d been unwilling to negotiate—that should be the end of it.

      Still, he waited with uncomfortable anticipation for his mother to speak.

      She sighed again. Fidgeted some more and then sighed a third time. “I have a key to Faith’s apartment.”

      “Ah.” But he didn’t feel nearly as insouciant as he sounded. His mother had a key to his lover’s apartment, but he did not. Nor did Faith have a key to his apartment in Marsala. Why not? Why was it that his mother had spent more time in Faith’s studio than he had?

      They were friends. They did not limit their time together to sex. So, why had he never seen any of her works in progress? Why had he not known she was the highly successful sculptor TK?

      “I stopped by today. Unannounced.”

      “I see.” Though he didn’t.

      “I let myself in, you know, thinking she might be back soon.” Mama shuddered. “I did a terrible thing.”

      “You are not the criminal type. I doubt what you did was terrible.”

      “But it was, my son. I wanted so badly to see Faith’s newest work.”

      “You peeked.”

      “Yes, and that is bad enough—but in looking at her work, I revealed a secret she is clearly not ready to share.”

      “A secret?” What kind of secret? Had Faith been making clay tiles of the fifty states because she missed her homeland? What?

      “Si. A secret. I have betrayed my friend.”

      “Mama, whatever it is, I am sure it will be fine. Faith loves you. She will forgive you.” If only Faith was as tolerant of her lover.

      “But a woman has the right to determine the timing of when she will share such news with others. I have, what is that saying your brother uses—oh, yes—I have stolen her thunder. I cannot pretend not to know when she tells me, for that would be a lie. I cannot lie to my friend.” She grimaced. “I did tell her I still wanted to see her work and I do. I stopped looking after the first one because I knew. I knew what it meant.”

      Valentino ground his teeth and tried not to glare at his mother with impatience. “What what meant?”

      “The statue. It is so clear to see. You could not miss it,” she said, as if trying to convince Valentino.

      “I am sure you are right. What was the statue of?” he asked without being able to help himself.

      “It is just that I am so worried. If it means what I think, and I’m sure it does—and there is no father in sight. Things are going to get difficult for my friend.”

      “What does a priest have to do with Faith?”

      “A priest? Who said anything about a priest? Faith is Lutheran. They have pastors, I believe.”

      “Mama, I don’t understand. You said ‘father.’”

      “Yes, the father of her child.”

      “Child? Faith has no children. Her unborn baby died in the accident with her husband.”

      “The baby inside her now, Valentino.”

      Valentino’s chest grew tight. Although he knew he was breathing, it felt like all the oxygen had disappeared from the air. “Are you saying you believe Faith is pregnant?”

      “Of course that is what I have been saying. Weren’t you listening? I should never have snooped.