First, they ran into Jamie, who whirled her head around the moment the trio entered the large dining room and St Just thought her nose was twitching like a little bunny,
“Which one of them is your husband?” she asked in a stage whisper and Bianca felt her face flame.
Dom, who was buttering scones for Rudy and Jamie shot her a dark look and the little girl fell silent.
“Mumma married Pappa after Ria and Piers were born,” he snapped shortly and his sister subsided, the look on her face clearly indicating that the wheels in her head were grinding away merrily. St Just thought grimly that Proserpina was going to face the inquisition.
Karina waddled in and spotting Bianca, she headed to them at once, beaming as she swept Bianca into her arms.
“Congratulations, I say, I think?” she asked, smiling sweetly and the brothers looked at each other gloomily. It was Tara, as always, who sorted out the mess. One look at Bianca’s stricken face and she said, gently,
“C’mon guys, let the girl eat.”
The Irishman sat down beside Bianca, St Just on the other side.
“Like bodyguards,” giggled Jamie who was atrocious on some days.
There was no sign of the Mafia Don or his Woman.
“We’re thinking of going to a hospital, to get a check-up…” began O’Grady.
Tara nodded and pulled out her phone, tapping in some numbers. She looked at Bianca sympathetically.
“That’s my gynaecologist, the woman who took care of me. She’s the best.”
Bianca looked at her gratefully. She was beginning to feel like the freak in the circus every time she looked up and saw Jamie and Rudy gawking at her, though they had the grace to look away when one of their siblings spotted them.
*
Lucien Delano had headed for his large penthouse suite at the top of the house soon after his woman had stormed out, pursued by their f*ing son, Claude.
“Imbecile, Dolt,” muttered the Mafia Don irritably as he strode to the bedroom.
His son was on his knees, begging his Mumma to forgive him apparently, but Proserpina was standing by the window, her back to him, arms crossed across her chest.
Lucin Delano smiled drily, quietly relieved to see that for once, her formidable anger was not targeted at him.
Getting Proserpina to forgive him might take his son a long time, he reflected idly as he stood, unnoticed in the doorway, his broad shoulders relaxing.
Even at the age of forty, she was still alluring, her heavy breasts heaving, her eyes smouldering as she glared at her errant son.
And the Mafia Don felt his balls tighten with desire. F*ck it, she couldn’t be breeding, could she? he thought as he looked at her. She was still in her prime and he f*cked her hard every day, every night in a thousand different ways, so there could be a chance… ?
The thought pleased him more than he should.
And going by the activity in the dining hall, by the time poor Claude got to the food, half of it would have vanished.
Claude was saying,
“…I didn’t Mumma, I seriously…”
Proserpina whirled, eyes flashing as she cried,
“So what will be your next topic for public discussion? The colour of my panties? How I prefer him to use plum-flavoured condoms when your Pappa makes love to me?”
Lucien Delano snorted in amusement.
And suddenly she became aware of her husband in the doorway, rocking on his heels and smirking at her outburst. Mortified, Proserpina raised her hands to her hot cheeks and groaned,
“OHHHH!” She sank to the bed, her face in her hands.
“Get the f*ck out of my room, boy,” drawled the Don,” and yeah, I prefer the missionary position when I’m f*cking your mother, if you want to know,'”he added, and saw, in some satisfaction, the way his son’s face and ears turned red in embarrassment.
Claude Delano stumbled out, his stomach growling with hunger but too ashamed of his runaway tongue to care. He shut the door behind himself and Lucien Delano turned to his Woman.
Crossing the room, he stood before her and said softly,
“Woman? What’s this about a pregnancy kit, hey?”
She looked up at him, smudges of tears on her lovely face and sighed.
Standing up, burying her face in his shirt, she mumbled as he wrapped his strong arms around her,
“I thought it was… menopause, Lucien…”
She bit her lip and raised her tear-filled eyes to him, “Now, I’m not so sure…”
The powerful Mafia don, Lucien Delano stared at her for a while.
Then, the father of ten children threw his leonine head back and roared in laughter.
“Woman,” he chuckled as he pounded her small fists on his broad chest in impunity,
“I love you, Woman.”
*
They sat at the doctor’s clinic a few hours later, Bianca and her Masters.
St Just was feeling drained.
It’s the tension, he told himself, pushing his long blonde hair away from his forehead.
O’Grady was nervous,”shit*ing bricks,” as he confided in his brother furtively when Bianca was led into the small anteroom by Dt Walsh.
When the doctor stepped out, she looked at him thoughtfully before pulling out a large pad ad turning to her monitor.
“So which one of you is the father?” she asked politely.
“I am,” chorused the men and the good doctor’s brows shot up into her hairline.
“I mean, he is, ” said O’Grady, his face suffused with colour while St Just began to say the same. The doctor regarded them silently. Then, as Bianca emerged, looking pale and anxious, she smiled and said,
“Well, Congratulations. You’re going to be a Dad, “she said, generally addressing the room.
St Just rose to wrap his arms around Bianca, who had burst into tears while O’Grady, who let out a shout of laughter was beside her, drawing her into his muscular arms in a flash. St Just smiled and then, suddenly, the dull pain he had been silently controlling all along, seemed to increase.
His breath was coming in short gasps and then, the floor seemed to race up to meet him. Both O’Grady and Bianca spun around as he fell to the floor in a heap.
“Well, that’s a first,” remarked the doctor drily.” usually, it’s the mother who faints.”