A Daring Proposition (4 page)

She seemed to be under the insane illusion that she was engaged to be married. And it
was
insane. Perhaps she had even wanted to be taken in by all that talk about honesty and respect; perhaps she had once considered those particular traits as critically important in a mate; perhaps she was even desperate to believe in trust, just to a degree… But could she really trust Brian Hathaway? From the first, he had thrown her off-balance as she had allowed no other man to do in years. His sexuality was so blatant, and the appraising perception of his eyes so disconcerting. It was impossible not to imagine how easily a man like that could overpower someone like her. She had a memory of another pair of arms that had forcibly held her, and they had not been nearly as strong as Brian’s. A memory that filled her with fear and revulsion. But she wanted that baby. She needed to love; she needed to be needed. Was that so very wrong? She had feared that her need was a selfish one, but after much soul-searching she’d concluded that she had a great deal of love and cherishing and warmth to give, and enough character within herself to encourage spirit, not dependence, in a child.

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to think. She’d never liked domineering men, and Brian Hathaway certainly was that. He was also arrogant, uncannily perceptive, egotistical…and yet, he had been honest. She believed that. The man’s integrity—his own brand—was not to be doubted.

It was all so easy, really. He was nothing like Peter; it was inconceivable that she could hurt him. And he was offering all and more than she wanted. The only real question was whether she would be able to trust him not to touch her. But Robert would be there; they would not have to see each other very often; and perhaps in time that trust…
No!

Yet the image of the child persuaded her, lulling her fears, just before sleep finally came.

Saturday morning was misty and cool. A few minutes before eleven, Leigh walked out onto the back patio, wanting a last breath of fresh air to steady her nerves. Her hair, a mixture of chestnut and fire in the sunlight, whispered against her cheeks in the breeze. She was dressed for her meeting with Brian as she rarely dressed: a pale saffron jersey dress with a looped gold belt that cinched her waist. The color set off her eyes, just as the fit of the dress enhanced the sensuous curves of her figure. The makeup she wore had been carefully applied; a touch of eye shadow and mascara to deepen the amber tint of her eyes; blusher to accent the line of cheekbone; lipstick to emphasize the exact curve of her mouth. “A lovely woman,” Robert had approvingly labeled her.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, hearing the crackle of newly turned leaves in the wind. She had made no clear-cut decision in the four days since she’d seen Brian. She had told herself to wait and see him again. To see…what she could handle. And dressing attractively was one way to test that.

When she opened her eyes and turned around, he was there. There had been no sound of footsteps, or of his car. In brown cords and a loose brown-and-gold velour shirt, he looked like a very different man…yet not necessarily an easier one to deal with. The casual clothes, if anything, only accentuated the disturbingly masculine aura of control that surrounded him.

“Good morning.” His black eyes took in her face and dress before moving on to the landscape around him. He passed, just that quickly, his first test.

The cement patio ended in steps leading down a slanting terraced lawn, with an orchard of mixed fruit trees on the distant left, a vegetable and flower garden on the right. The grounds had never been formally landscaped, but Leigh had spent a great deal of time and effort on the garden and lawn, and the effect always pleased her.

“About three acres?” he questioned.

She nodded. “Back here. With the woods as you come into the drive, it’s just under five.” Her tone was polite, distant. She could feel her emotions rising to the surface, an automatic response to his mere presence—defensiveness, antagonism, apprehension—and willed herself to remain calm.

“Have you changed your mind, Leigh?” he asked bluntly.

She looked away from him. “I still don’t know about the marriage,” she admitted honestly. “But there’s no question about my wanting a child.”

“There won’t be one without the other—not if you want me involved.” There was just the hint of a rebuke, and she flushed.

“I understand that,” she said coolly.

“Would you like some coffee?” Robert’s beaming face appeared at the French doors, taking in the pair of them standing together. “I just made a fresh pot for myself.”

“No thanks, Robert. We’re off,” Brian answered easily. He moved briskly then, forcing Leigh ahead of him into the library, and headed for the front door. Robert followed, hovering, as if by looking at them he could discover a clue to the exact nature of their relationship, which Leigh had refused to define for him over the past few days. It seemed that Brian understood. “I’ll have your girl back before dinner, Robert, if that suits?”

It seemed just the line Robert had been waiting for. “I wouldn’t take it kindly if anything should happen to her.” He had to look up almost a full foot into Brian’s face to say it, and involuntarily Leigh smiled. For a protector, Robert lacked both height and youth, but if Brian made fun of him…

“I promise you she’ll be safe with me,” he said gravely.

“That’s fine then.” Robert was satisfied. “Have a good time, sweetheart. God knows it’ll be peaceful without you,” he added acerbically. She knew he was referring to her noisy cleaning onslaught, and she smiled again. With a gallant flourish, Brian opened the door for her and she stepped out. Brian had unknowingly passed another test, accepting Robert without mockery or even comment.

The next ten minutes passed in silence, and by then Leigh and Brian were on one of Chicago’s busiest freeways. “What kind of car is this?” she finally asked.

“A Morgan.”

“I’ve never heard an engine with quite that kind of sound before.” That was true; it still seemed strange that she hadn’t even heard his approach to the house.

“Am I to take it that you know something about engines?” Brian asked skeptically. “Or is this a round of polite conversation?”

His rudeness struck her as more honest than abrasive, and she relaxed perceptibly. She really didn’t want to make small talk either.

It was another twenty minutes before he pulled into a parking lot next to one of Chicago’s more expensive high-rises. They were almost directly in the center of town, close to Brian’s work and close to the art galleries and museums and department stores that Leigh was familiar with. She opened her own door, and without comment followed him into the building and elevator, up to the fifteenth floor. He fitted the key into the lock and motioned her inside.

“Look around,” he suggested. “Among other things, we’ll have to talk about where we want to live. I think you’ll find that my apartment has ample room.”

The subject had fleetingly occurred to her. Then as now, next to everything else, it had seemed unimportant. Simple curiosity overruled her instinctive disquiet at being alone with Brian in his apartment, and obediently she wandered around exploring. To the left of the entrance was a sunny yellow kitchen, smaller than Leigh’s but more efficiently arranged. There was also a dining room, and to the right of it four small bedrooms. Robert could have his own suite; and there would still be a bedroom for her and one for the baby. And then there was Brian’s study and the master bedroom: she only opened the doors and closed them quickly once they’d been identified for what they were. From there, she paused at the living-room threshold.

With background colors of black and white, the living room was spacious and starkly contemporary. The floor was highly polished wood, with an unbelievably soft and furry black-and-white rug large enough to accommodate two couches and a glass coffee table. A stereo unit took up most of one wall, and a double set of glass doors led onto a small balcony. There wasn’t a hint of anything feminine about the room, but it was both tastefully and attractively done.

“Well?” Brian asked finally. “Shall we fight out where we’re going to live?”

She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Of course not,” she said mildly. “We can live here if you want to. It doesn’t make any difference to me, as long as there’s room enough for Robert and the baby. In the long run, I wouldn’t choose to raise a child in the middle of a city, but we needn’t worry about that for the moment.”

He frowned, as if her answer had been both unexpected and somehow unwelcome. She could make nothing of that, nor of his taciturn moodiness this morning. If he had changed his mind, he need only say so. From her viewpoint, she had immediately realized that any arrangement they made would require elements of compromise and flexibility; as she had more to gain, she was certainly willing to give more as well.

“Do you want coffee, Leigh, or some lunch?”

She wanted both, and they moved into the kitchen. Brian made salami sandwiches, while Leigh continued to poke around cupboards, learning the layout of the room. When they were seated at the kitchen table, he said, “I rather thought you’d want to stay in your own house.”

She could hardly explain that, much as she loved her home, there were also unpleasant memories that she could never escape as long as she lived there. Instead, she spoke of practical matters: the costs of heating and maintaining an older home; her dislike of having to hire help to run the house when she would prefer being able to cope on her own. And Robert didn’t care where he lived; for that matter, it would be easier for him in the city, where he had friends of long standing whose age made it difficult for them to travel back and forth to her house in the suburbs. “Anyway, we’re hardly talking about a permanent commitment to a specific home, are we? I mean, we don’t even know if marriage with us would work a month, much less a lifetime,” she said frankly. “I have to admit I’m a little disappointed, though.”

“Disappointed? Why?”

“I was hoping you lived in one of your own houses. One that you designed.”

“Just what do you know of my houses?” he asked curiously.

She hesitated, then took a small sip of coffee. “Did you forget I had access to all your books the four weeks I worked for your firm? Although I have to admit, if anyone had questioned why I was in the sepia room…”

His eyebrows raised. “Why on earth were you?”

She gave him a lazy grin. “To find out what kind of man you were. You build honest buildings, Brian. I would never have approached you otherwise.”

He choked a little on his sandwich. “Honest buildings,” he repeated dryly. “What the devil does that mean?”

She shook her head. “If you’re not careful, we’ll find ourselves making polite conversation, Brian.” It was a tentative try at being comfortable around him, a hint of teasing. She was rewarded with a smile so disarming that she felt her heart skip a beat. And then he was all business again.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to disagree—on the subject of where we live, that is. I would prefer to live in your house. Frankly, you surprised me. I thought you would automatically want to stay at your place.”

“Then why did you even bring me here?” she asked curiously.

“To let you win the first round of arguments,” he said bluntly. “I thought you would insist on your own home, and I would give in. But then I would have an advantage on the next issue.”

“Oh. Well…” She finished her sandwich, and then concentrated on her coffee.

“Your house is bigger, and we would be less likely to get in each other’s way,” he continued. “You’re already settled there, and so is Robert. The cost of running the place hardly matters. You’ve got both a study and a library downstairs, so it won’t matter if I take one of them over. And I like the land around the place. I’m sick of concrete.”

“All right, we’ll live there,” Leigh said affably. “Why don’t you just keep this place, too, so that you have a place for your little…”

His eyes met hers, instant black lightning. “As long as we’re not talking about
your
private life, you can be blunt enough, can’t you, Red?” he said shortly.

She didn’t answer. She wished she had his ability to maintain a totally impassive face for hours at a time. She had no way of judging his emotions at all, beyond what he said and what he communicated with his eyes, and both his words and his gaze seemed to have a disconcerting effect on her senses.

As if to reinforce that effect, he changed the subject. “I’ve got the marriage license. As soon as we get the ceremony over with, we can get on with the child.”

Was that where he wanted the advantage? “No,” she said firmly. “First I want to be sure I
can
get pregnant. Otherwise, there would be no reason at all for me to get married.”

“But if you conceive first, it won’t be a full-term baby.”

“A month ‘premature’ wouldn’t matter.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then Brian gave a short, harsh chuckle. “I’m still having difficulty seeing myself as an advocate for marriage.” He got up and poured himself a second cup of coffee, turning cold eyes in her direction. “To look at you, Red, you’re as soft and vulnerable as a kitten. But I’m not sure I’d want to face you across a boardroom when you get that look in your eyes.”

“I—”

“If you want
my
child,” he interrupted sharply, “it will be a full-term, nine-month baby. The ceremony can be secret, but it must precede the pregnancy. As a concession to you, we won’t announce the marriage until you’re pregnant. If we make no baby, we’ll set new terms. The ceremony takes less than ten minutes when there’s no rigmarole, and to my knowledge, you sweet little coward, it doesn’t hurt a bit.”

She flushed at his sarcasm, and his “sweet” had a wasplike sting to it. “You can’t mean you would actually withdraw your offer if—”

“I would.”

With characteristic arrogance, he was insisting that she commit on his terms or forget the whole thing. To live her life in a stark, lonely vacuum, or to take the chance offered to have a child and make a real home…with a vibrantly sensual, totally enigmatic man, who for some strange reason actually believed they’d suit each other. But, would she ever have another chance? “You promise, of course,” Leigh said gravely, “that the ceremony doesn’t hurt?”

His smile transformed his impassive features and gentled the sharpness in his eyes. “You give in gracefully, lady. I’m glad,” he added quietly.

Leigh twisted her fingers together beneath the table, disarmed by the compliment. “So, what’s the next step?” she asked briskly.

“I’ll take care of the wedding, you take care of the doctor. The next question is timing.”

“All right.” But that suddenly wasn’t going to be any easier a subject. “If you have any questions about the doctor, Brian, I researched the fertility field quite thoroughly. Dr. Janet Hensley—”

“Knowing you, Red, and your feelings on this subject, I’m sure you meticulously researched her medical and ethical credentials.”

“Yes. Well…” Her eyes, which had been thoughtfully staring into the last dregs of her coffee cup, suddenly raised to meet his. “Her ethics are the point, Brian. You can’t just walk in to a really good doctor, prove to be…healthy, and still request…” She saw his eyes suddenly narrow, but she didn’t stop talking. Lying went against her instincts—it hadn’t been easy with the doctor; and with Brian, she refused to lie, regardless of his reaction. Quietly, she admitted that she had led Dr. Hensley to believe she was married, that her husband was…incapable, though they both wanted a child, that they had agreed on a donor…

“I don’t like made-up stories, Leigh,” Brian interrupted grimly.

She felt strangely hungry for his teasing “Red,” instead of the abrasive way he spoke her given name. “I didn’t believe she would take me on any other way,” she admitted in a low voice. “I did what I had to do, Brian. I would have done almost anything.”

The phrase echoed in that short silence. For no reason she could fathom, his look suddenly softened on hers. “All right, Red,” he said finally, and she knew that the subject was buried. She took a breath.