“We’ve proven you’re fertile, so she obviously didn’t need to use donor sperm. Was she involved with someone before you? No, wait. You said you were with her for the full nine months. You’re going to have to explain that.”
He sliced a quick, hard glance her way. “And if I said it’s none of your business?”
“I’d remind you you’re the one who told me to ask questions about your sexual history.”
He pursed his lips and blew out a slow breath. “My girlfriend was screwing my best friend. I was too blind to see it. When the pregnancy test turned up positive she swore the baby was mine. I married her. Turns out she lied.”
Poor guy. From the sounds of it, like her father he’d been wronged by the woman he loved. But unlike her father, Ryan hadn’t hung around for more of the same bad medicine. But then everyone knew her father only stayed because the money came from her mother’s side of the family, and her mother owned the lion’s share of Hightower Aviation.
“I’m sorry. How long ago was that?”
“Fourteen years.”
“Were you involved in her pregnancy before you found out?”
“Every damned day. Through every doctor’s appointment, every time she hugged the toilet and every midnight craving.”
No wonder he was such a jerk now. Betrayal could make you bitter—if you chose to let it. She’d chosen not to. Just as she’d chosen not to let sympathy soften her dislike of him.
“How did you find out? Did your wife eventually tell you?”
“Hell no. My best friend was African-American. Let’s just say my beautiful blond wife’s daughter was the spitting image of her daddy.”
Ouch. So he’d lost a wife, a best friend and a child at the same time. Triple whammy. “Have you kept in touch with them?”
“Why would I?”
Typical male. “Is she happier with him than she was with you?”
“How the hell would I know? And why would I care?”
“If you truly love someone, then you want them to be happy—even if it’s not with you.” That’s what she wished for Patrick.
Ryan looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “That’s bull.”
“We choose whether to look on the positive or negative side of a situation.”
“You’re a real Pollyanna, aren’t you?”
Her spine stiffened. Was he laughing at her? “Because I focus on what I have instead of what I don’t have?”
Shaking his head, he turned the car into a new and exclusive waterfront community, went a few blocks then drove up a winding driveway through thick evergreen trees. The property had to be several acres. A beautiful two-story house with a wraparound porch came into view, but even before he stopped the car by the three-car garage Nicole knew the place would never work.
A multitude of objections gathered on her tongue, but “No,” was all her quickly tiring brain could manage.
“You haven’t even seen the place.”
She smothered the yawn she couldn’t hold back. “All I need to see is the steep drop-off to the lake. If you tripped, you’d roll like a snowball going down a ski slope. Don’t get me wrong, Ryan, the house is gorgeous and it’s a lovely neighborhood, but there’s no way to make that yard safe for a toddler to run and play in.”
He scanned the property again as if verifying her words.
“Wait here.” He climbed from the car and greeted the suit-clad woman climbing from a minivan bearing a local real estate agent’s sign on the door. After speaking with her he returned to the Corvette.
Resting his forearm on the steering wheel, he twisted in his seat to face her. “The next house is waterfront, too. Should we even bother to look at it?”
“You like your water, don’t you?”
“I used to row and wakeboard competitively in college.”
Why didn’t that surprise her? He had the wide shoulders and thick biceps either of those sports would develop. One of those big arms drew her attention now. She’d bet the fingers of both her hands together couldn’t circle the width. For a split second she wondered what he’d look like wearing nothing but swim trunks. Shaking her head, she banished the image of his lean, tanned frame.
Why did his physique fascinate her?
Because your child carries half his DNA and might inherit some of those attractive traits.
Satisfied with her answer she met his gaze. “Water is a hazard. But if you can fence it off, then maybe it would work. I guess this means you’re not going to give up your dangerous toys just because you’re about to become a father.”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
She gave him credit for his honesty—even though she knew she’d recommend Beth to use it against him in the custody battle. But Ryan had a lot to learn if he thought a baby wouldn’t change his life. She wasn’t even keeping the child, and pregnancy had completely changed hers. She wasn’t sure her life would ever return to normal.
Five
R yan couldn’t remember the last time a woman had fallen asleep on him without the prelude of mind-blowing sex. The sleep part had always been his cue to slip out and avoid the postmortem. Leaving wasn’t an option now.
Waiting for the red light to change, he silently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and let his gaze skim over Nicole’s face. Her thick lashes couldn’t conceal the lavender circles beneath her eyes. According to her clinic file she was about ten weeks pregnant, in her first trimester.Jeanette had slept a lot, too, during those early weeks. She’d missed enough classes to flunk out of college. His ex had also complained incessantly about her lack of energy, her nausea and her frequent need to pee—as if each irritation had been Ryan’s fault. She’d wanted to be waited on hand and foot and played every sympathy card in the deck. Love-struck sucker that he’d been he’d fallen for her act. His mother’s manipulative attitude should have made him immune to those kinds of tricks, but the old “Love is blind” adage had certainly applied to him.
Nicole, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word about her condition. She hadn’t even complained about being hungry. She’d simply pulled a snack and a bottle of water from her tote bag. And then twenty minutes ago in the middle of discussing the pros and cons of the house they’d toured she’d trailed off midsentence. He’d looked over and found her slumped sideway in her seat asleep.
The tilted position caused her V-neck top to gape, revealing the swell of her pale br**sts. That distracting sight combined with her soft, parted lips had hit him with a grenade of hunger.
The urge to stroke a silky lock of hair from her cheek was about as welcome as a severe case of poison ivy. He shook off the feeling and focused on their earlier conversation. She was right about the water hazard. He couldn’t be sure any nanny he hired would be diligent enough to never let the kid out of sight. That was one reason he appreciated Nicole’s perspective. While he’d examined the structural integrity of the house she studied the practical aspects. Teamwork.
He checked his watch. He’d driven around for the past twenty minutes to let Nicole sleep, but now it was time to implement phase two of his plan. The light changed. He accelerated and turned toward the restaurant where he knew his father would be meeting his golf buddies later for the obligatory after-eighteen-holes cocktails.
After he snagged a parking space he killed the engine. As soon as the car fell silent Nicole’s lids fluttered open. She sat up quickly, scanned her surroundings and touched her chin as if checking for drool. He found the insecure gesture oddly endearing. His lips twitched.
Those eyes hit him like laser beams, and he felt the heat and the pull deep in his gut. He took a mental giant step backward. The need to test the softness of her lips was damned hard to resist. If she weren’t carrying his child, he’d act on this attraction, but the pregnancy was a complication. That didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted. He just had better sense. Having an affair plus sharing a child with her meant a continuing connection. He wasn’t going there. This kid would be his and his alone, not leverage between parents. Once he had custody of the child he didn’t intend to see her again.
Nicole smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry. I must have drifted off. Why are we here?”
“I made dinner reservations.”
She blinked. “You’re assuming I’ll eat with you.”
Her less than enthusiastic response took a bite out of his ego. He wasn’t used to women refusing his company.
“I’m assuming you’re hungry. Other than the squirrel food you pulled out of your purse over an hour ago, you’ve had nothing to eat all afternoon. In my experience pregnant women need to eat regularly.”
“Dried fruit is a healthy snack.”
“It wasn’t substantial enough to keep a rodent going. Did you have other plans tonight?”
She glanced at the steak house, inhaled deeply and licked her lips. No doubt the aroma of grilling beef emanating from the premises made her mouth water as it did his. That was the only reason his mouth dampened. His reaction had nothing to do with the slow glide of her pink tongue. “No.”
“Then let’s eat. You can give me a list of things the agent needs to look for in the next house.” He climbed from the vehicle and came around to her side. He reached her just in time to see her swing those long legs out the door. Her thigh and calf muscles flexed beneath the hem of her above-the-knee-length dress as she rose. She had great muscle tone, but she was lean like a distance biker or a runner.
He offered a hand which she ignored. Point taken. She didn’t want this to feel like a date any more than he did. And while part of him respected the boundaries she marked, another part of him wanted an excuse for contact. But that would be flirting with danger. Not smart.
As he escorted her to the entrance he placed his palm at the base of her spine. Her startled jump let him know his touch wasn’t welcome, and the tingle rising up his arm warned him that he danced on a hazardous edge.
Inside the darkened pub-style interior he gave the hostess his name. She led him and Nicole toward the table for two he’d requested. His gaze drifted past Nicole’s slender waist to her slim h*ps in the burgundy dress. No one would guess her condition if she didn’t tell them, and he was counting on her not volunteering the information in the next hour.
The waitress took their drink and appetizer orders and left them a basket of rolls. Nicole immediately selected a piece of bread, split it open and slathered butter on the steaming center. The hot yeasty smell reached across the table.
Her blissful expression as she tore off small pieces and tucked them between her lips made it look as if the bread were the most delicious thing she’d ever put in her mouth. For some reason that made him think of sex. Would she look the same when she took a man inside her?
He reached for his iced water, but clenching the cold glass didn’t distract him. The woman was getting to him—probably a combination of knowing he couldn’t have her and his recent celibacy. Since he’d begun his surrogate search he hadn’t had time for a relationship. All the energy he hadn’t devoted to his job had been expended on reaching his goal.