Kings of California: Bargaining for King's Baby. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ time with Gina was like the first time.

      And damn it, he didn’t want to admit that. Not even to himself. But she was so much more than he’d expected. Her laughter filled him. Her temper challenged him. Her passion ignited his.

      Adam held her, hands at her bottom, supporting her weight, easing her up and down on his thick erection. Every move dazzled. Every withdrawal was agony. Every thrust was victory. He filled her and her body opened and held him as if made to fit his.

      Her head fell back as she rode him and arched into him. He could watch her all night. Listen to her sighs. Smell the sweet, slightly citrus scent of her skin. He watched every movement she made and saw the moonlight kiss her flesh with a silvery wash that made her seem lit up from within. And when she lifted her head to look at him, that same moon danced in her eyes.

      He snaked one hand up her back, cradled her head in his hand and drew her mouth to his as his body tightened, fisting in anticipation. Again and again, she moved on him, rocking, swiveling her hips, driving him faster, harder than he’d ever gone before and still it wasn’t enough.

      He wanted.

      He…needed…her.

      Her tongue tangled with his and he took everything she offered. Her breath mingled with his. She trembled as her climax hit and when she groaned into his mouth, he swallowed it, taking that, as well. He wanted all of her. Needed all of her. And knew, bone-deep, that he would never get enough of her.

      Then all thought ceased as he finally surrendered to a shattering release. And as he filled her with everything he had, he wondered if this was the night they would make the child that would end what was between them.

      She still wasn’t pregnant.

      Gina’d worried a little after that night in the ranch yard two months ago. But the fates were apparently on her side, because her period had arrived right on time.

      So she was still married and still trying to find a way to convince the man she loved that he loved her, too.

      “You’re thinking about Adam,” her mother said. “I see it on your face.”

      Gina looked up from her place at the Torino kitchen table. She’d been assigned that chair when she was a little girl and she still headed straight for it whenever she came home again.

      Sunlight speared through the wide windows her mother kept at a high gloss at all times. A clock on the wall chimed twelve times and in the backyard, Papa’s golden retriever barked at a squirrel. Soup simmered on the stove, filling the air with the scents of beef and oregano.

      Nothing in this room ever changed, Gina thought. Oh, there was fresh paint—same shade of bright yellow—every couple of years, new rugs or curtains and the occasional new set of pans, but otherwise, it was the same as it had always been. The heart of the Torino house.

      The kitchen was where the family had breakfast and dinner. Where she and her brothers had complained and laughed and sometimes cried about whatever was happening in their lives. Her parents, the foundation of the family, had listened, advised and punished when necessary. And each of their children came home whenever they could, just to touch base with their beginnings.

      Of course, if there was something they didn’t want their parents to know, it was best to stay away. Especially from Mama. She didn’t miss much.

      Her mother was standing at the kitchen counter, putting finishing touches on the lunch she’d insisted Gina eat, while waiting for her daughter’s answer.

      “I must look happy then, huh?” Gina quipped and smiled too brightly.

      “No, you do not.” Her mother picked up the plate holding a sandwich and some homemade pasta salad. Carrying it to the table, she plunked it down, poured two tall glasses of iced tea and took a seat opposite her daughter. “I worry about you, Gina. Two months you’re with Adam. You do not look happy. You think I don’t see it in your eyes?”

      “Mama…”

      “Fine,” her mother said, grabbing her glass to chug some of her tea. “You want a baby. I understand. How could I not? I, too, wanted babies. But you want them with the man you love. With a father who will also love the child you make.”

      “I do love him,” Gina said and took a bite of the roast beef sandwich, because knowing her mother, she’d never be allowed to leave until she did. She chewed, swallowed and said, “Adam loved his son. He would love our child, too. He wouldn’t be able to help himself.”

      Teresa crossed herself quickly at the mention of Adam’s dead son and conceded, “He did love that boy. Such a tragedy. But you know as well as everyone else he changed when he lost his family.”

      Gina shifted uneasily on her chair and used her fork to move bow tie pasta around on her plate. “That’s natural enough, isn’t it?”

      “Yes. It is. But he does not want to move on, Gina. The darkness in him is thick and heavy and he doesn’t want it lifted.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      Her mother snorted. “You do not want to see it.”

      Gina sighed, dropped her fork and said, “We’ve been over this.”

      Teresa Torino set her glass down, reached across the table and patted her daughter’s hand. “And we will again. Until I make you see that you are making a mistake that will only cause you pain.”

      “Mama…”

      The older woman sat back, folded her arms beneath her copious breasts and frowned. “So. You get pregnant. Then what? You leave? Then you walk away from your baby’s father? You believe you can do this? With no pain?”

      Just thinking about it was painful, but admitting that would probably be the wrong move. Besides, she was still hoping she wouldn’t have to walk away. That Adam wouldn’t want to let her go. “Adam and I made a deal.”

      “Sì.” Her mother sniffed in disgust. “So your papa tells me all the time. A deal. What kind of a way is that to start a marriage?”

      “Um,” Gina said, picking her fork up again to take a bite of her mom’s pasta salad—only the best in the known universe, “excuse me, but didn’t Papa go to Italy to meet you because his parents knew your parents and they thought you two would make a good couple?”

      Teresa’s big brown eyes narrowed on her daughter. “You think you’re so smart, eh?”

      “Pretty smart,” Gina acknowledged with a smile. “I know my family history anyway.”

      “Yes, but you also know this,” her mother said, sitting forward suddenly and leaning her forearms on the yellow-and-white-vinyl-cloth-covered table. “My papa told me I should marry Sal Torino and move to America. I argued with him. Told him I wouldn’t marry a man I didn’t love. Then I took one look at your papa and loved him in that instant.” She lifted one hand and wagged her index finger at Gina. “One look. I knew. I knew it was right. That this marriage would last and be a good one. Can you say the same?”

      Spearing another piece of pasta, Gina met her mother’s worried gaze and said softly, “I’ve loved Adam since I СКАЧАТЬ