Bargaining for Baby / The Billionaire's Baby Arrangement: Bargaining for Baby / The Billionaire's Baby Arrangement. Robyn Grady
exchanged pleasantries about her aging canary and the lack of rain. Then he dialed up to the room Tara took whenever she stayed in town.
When she picked up on the second ring, Jack braced his shoulders. “Tara, I need to see you.”
There was a moment’s pause before a sigh came down the line. “Jack, it’s you. Thank God. Come up.”
From her thready tone, something wasn’t right in her world. He could guess what. But as he set off for the vintage elevator, Jack knew he couldn’t let any bad news delay his own.
When Tara opened her door, her hair was as glossy as usual but her eyes didn’t hold their normal fire. She lifted a large envelope and gave a jaded smile.
“Hendrix’s X-rays. There’s a small cyst on his hock. In my opinion, and the vet’s, nothing to worry about.” She flung the envelope on the TV stand. “But the buyer wants a cut in price.”
“Three hundred G’s is a lot for a horse,” he said, hanging his hat on the hatstand.
“Not for a brilliant jumper.” Then her dark eyes softened and an inviting smile curved her lips. “But let’s not talk about that.”
She took his hand and led him toward the bed. Jack kept his eyes straight ahead but even a blind man couldn’t miss her attire: a short, pale pink silk wrap. From the outline, she was naked underneath.
She drew him toward the foot of the unmade bed. Positioning herself close, she wove her hands up his shirt front then, closing her eyes, she reached on tiptoe to rub her nose with his.
“It’s so good to see you.” Her fingers flexed in his shirt as she murmured, “Will I order up some breakfast?”
“I’ve eaten.”
She opened her eyes at his tone and angled her head. “I need to apologize for the way I acted yesterday. But, you have to understand, I was taken aback. The last thing I expected to see was a baby—” she lowered to sit on the rumpled sheet “—or another woman.” Twining her fingers with his, she urged him to sit beside her. “But I should’ve shown more control. You’re right. We need to speak about this in private.” She pivoted toward him, her wrap slipped but she didn’t cover her thigh. “How do you feel about raising Dahlia’s son?”
He set his jaw. “Committed.”
“There is one big positive.”
“You mean besides giving my nephew a home.”
“Of course that baby deserves a home.” Her touch filed over his thigh and settled on his leg. “And now there’s no reason why we shouldn’t start a family. I understand how you feel about losing your own. Jack, I can’t imagine how much that must hurt, even now. But being given this baby is like being given another chance. We could give that little boy a brother or two.” Her hand squeezed. “A real family, for us all.”
He pushed to his feet and her hand fell away. “We need to talk.”
“If you’re worried about inheritance—that I might be biased toward the children we have together—I’m more than fine with all the children having equal shares …”
“I can’t marry you.”
She recoiled as if bitten by a snake. Her slender throat worked up and down as moisture welled in her eyes. His gut twisted around a heavy knot of guilt. There’d been no easy way to say it. But the admission had sounded blunt even to his ears.
“You can’t marry.” She carefully unfolded to her feet. “We’ve discussed this. Gone through it.” She stepped closer and a note of desperation lifted her voice. “What about the land?”
“I don’t care about the land.”
He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his brow.
Of course he cared, but.
Decided, he met her gaze. “I can’t think about that now.”
“It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Her slim nostrils flared. “How long have you known her?”
He told her the truth. “I met Maddy the same day I learned about Dahlia.”
“Then she’s a quick worker, getting you to agree to have her stay here.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Tara might have more reason than she knew to be jealous but it hadn’t started out that way. Maddy hadn’t set a trap to ensnare an eligible bachelor. She’d made a vow and had come to Leadeebrook when she would rather not have. Her loyalty to his sister, her indignation toward him, hadn’t been an act.
Neither was the passion he’d felt break free when he’d held her last night. His palms had itched to shape over her curves. Conscience hadn’t been an issue. The primal need to know every inch of her had overshadowed everything.
Tara was imploring him with her eyes.
“Tell me nothing’s going on, Jack. Tell me and I’ll believe you. You’ve made mistakes before.” The passionate look wavered. “You don’t want to make another one.”
His eyes narrowed. He’d forget she said that.
“Tara, you and I are friends. I’ll always think of you as a friend.”
“Friendship can turn into love.” She held his jaw and hitched up to slip her lips over his. “It did for me.”
He found her hand and held it between both of his. “It’s better this way.”
He’d married once. He should have known that would do him a lifetime. The ring he wore around his neck would always live there.
But as he threw his hat back on and left the motel a few minutes later, he reminded himself that physical intimacy was another matter. No license was required to satisfy sexual needs. Needs every man had. Natural, instinctive. In this instance, fierce.
The chemistry was right between Maddy and him. Yesterday under the stars, it had been near uncontainable. Whether this fever was due to the upheaval of emotion these past days—the lasting bond he and Maddy had shared with Dahlia—he couldn’t say. All he knew with absolute certainty was he’d been attracted to Madison Tyler from the start. The attraction had grown to a point where, no matter what excuse he made, he couldn’t deny it.
He wanted her in his bed.
The primal urge was a force unto itself, demanding release, stoking his mind like a stick at a fire every other minute of the day. He’d never felt this intensely about a woman, not even Sue. He’d never gone there with Tara, neither in mind nor in body.
After the way Maddy had held onto him in the moonlight, her fingers twisting in his shirt, her mouth opening under his, inviting and welcoming him in …
Inhaling, he slipped into his vehicle, ignited the engine and pulled away from the curb.
It was foregone. Maddy felt the same way. She wanted what he wanted. Before the week was through, he would convince her they should take it.
Call back. Urgent re Pompadour account.
Biting her lip, Maddy shifted her gaze from the text message to baby Beau lying, happy and energetic, on a nearby blanket.
Beau had had his lunchtime bottle but had been too restless to go down. She’d done some research; babies’ routines changed all the time—teething problems, going to solids, natural decline in naps—all shook up what might seem like a set schedule. Rather than fight the tide, she’d spread a blanket out beneath the sprawling umbrella of a Poinciana tree and for the past twenty minutes had watched him kick and coo to his heart’s content.
Although everyone back home knew she was unavailable, out of habit she’d brought along her BlackBerry. While her father had been frosty about her request for this unscheduled break, he wouldn’t have left that message without good reason.
Maddy