Page 137 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

Italian’s Pregnant Mistress

Carol Marinelli

“So you were just going to fly in and fly out, not even...”

“I have a home here in Lucca. Am I to tell you every time I’ll be home—”

“Of course not.”

“Do you want that?” Dante asked. “Did you want me to call and say, ‘I’ll be here for one night, I can’t tell you why, but can I come over?’”

“No.” Susie shook her head. She hadn’t thought of it like that. No, she didn’t want to be his on-call mistress.

Her head was still spinning, not just from seeing him, but the possibility that she might be pregnant, and... She looked at Dante and there was another problem...

It would be hell to be pregnant to the playboy attorney...

But to love him?

As if to deny her own want, she snapped, “What do you want, Dante?”

“This.”

He kissed her then, a deep whiskey-laced kiss that tasted delicious, and she was kissing him back with fervor, as desperate for an escape from thought as he.

PROLOGUE

ANEWYEAR.

Professionally, Dante Casadio had no resolutions.

He was at the top of his game.

And while the skies might be raining sleet, in the boardroom of a top Milan legal firm people were loosening ties and sipping water as things heated up.

Dante’s silk tie remained beautifully knotted, his glass untouched.

It was the end of the second week after the Christmas break—and apart from a brief trip to Lucca he had been in his office most days.

The New Year had started as the last had ended—with his exceptionally famous client insisting, ‘She can’t do this!’

‘Nobody is doing anything,’ Dante responded in rich Italian. ‘It’s an extremely reasonable offer.’

‘We’ll let the judge decide.’

Vincenzo, his senior paralegal, cast Dante a worried glance.

‘I mean it,’ the client insisted. ‘I’ll see her in court!’ he continued angrily, but Dante said nothing.

Emotional outbursts didn’t faze him.

In any capacity.

Be it at work with an overwrought client, or at decadent play with a beautiful lover, his impenetrable barrier was maintained.

Always.

If anything, he found such displays mildly interesting. Possibly because he allowed for so few emotions of his own.