Ramagos, Tonya - Strictly Accountable [Stud Service 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

* * * *

Brody watched Sabrina, listened to what she said, and heard what she didn’t say. It all boiled down to love. She might tease him about his princess ideals, but she wanted the fairy tale. Thing was, so did he. He wanted love, marriage, a family, and he knew without a doubt he wanted it with her. He also knew she wouldn’t believe him if he told her.

“You’re serious about trying again? I mean, you would help me?”

Help her get pregnant so she could give her parents the grandchild required to hand over access to her trust fund. Help her have the child she wanted, but without the strings of the husband, the family. Brody knew exactly what she meant by her question and exactly how to answer her.

“I’m serious.” Veiled hunger flittered through her expression. She wanted him, but instinctively, for reasons he couldn’t quite yet figure out, she would never accept that he wanted more than sex from her. That meant he would just have to show her, make her, and take her. “You might be the one to change your mind when you hear my stipulations.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “You want part of the trust fund.”

“I’m not going to get mad about that being the first conclusion you jump to for a couple of reasons. One, it’s because the trust fund is at stake that we’re even talking about this. Two, you know better than anyone, including myself, what kind of financial position I’m in. But, no, my condition has nothing to do with your money. I’ll even agree to sign a prenup so you know it’s protected.”

Her already-narrowed eyes turned to slits as she stared at him. “A prenuptial agreement is only necessary protection when a man and woman get married.”

“And our baby shouldn’t be born out of wedlock,” he countered simply.

“You’re saying you’re only willing to help me if I marry you.” Astonishment came through loud and clear in her tone.

“Yep.” Brody never thought he would see the day he resorted to blackmail to get a woman. He saw the surprise swirl in her eyes, watched it change to a contemplating question, and hoped to hell she didn’t call his bluff. He would help her regardless. She’d gotten under his skin. He couldn’t explain the whys or hows of it any more right now than he could the moment he saw her round the corner at the Walmart on day one. It just happened. He wanted her and aimed to make her see just how badly. “I want him to have my last name.”

“Him?” She frowned. “Why is it that men always think they will produce a son?”

“I need a son, someone to carry on the Holt name.”

“And if it’s a girl? There is a fifty-fifty chance, you know.”

Brody shook his head. “It won’t be a girl.” God, he actually enjoyed it when she rolled her eyes at something he said.

“What if you don’t get me pregnant?”

He lifted a brow. “You’ve got that much confidence in me, huh?” He’d get her pregnant. If he had to live with his cock inside her tight, wet heat for the rest of the year, he’d see her belly swollen with his child.

“It’s a sensible question, Brody. Making a baby isn’t quite as easy as two plus two.”

“It can be.” He planned to get started on proving that fact just as soon as Mother Nature finished her monthly visit. “But for the sake of argument, give it six months. If I don’t get you pregnant in that time, we’ll get the marriage annulled.”

“Consummation voids annulments.”

“Fine, then we’ll get a divorce.”

“Provided I was to agree to this cockamamie plan of yours, it would take six months before we could get married.” She laughed softly at the blank look he leveled on her. “We’d need time to plan the wedding. Things like that aren’t done overnight.”

Making the baby would be. Why in hell couldn’t marrying her be, too?

“Then there’s our families to consider,” she went on. “They’re going to wonder why we would rush into marriage. Okay, my family wouldn’t, given the circumstances, but yours would. They won’t know we’re only doing it in preparation of producing a child, and we certainly couldn’t tell them. This whole situation is strange enough. And if we turn around six months later and get a divorce…” She bowed her head, her hair falling around her face like a satin curtain. “The idea is ludicrous.”

It couldn’t be ridiculous when the answers to each of her arguments sprang to his tongue without thought. “We’ll elope. We won’t tell either of our families we’re married. When we find out you’re pregnant then we’ll plan a real wedding, tell everyone, and invite the states of Tennessee and Texas if we need to.”

“We’ll get married twice.”

“We’ll be the only ones to know that.”

“And how long do we stay married after the baby is born, Brody?”

Shit
. He stalled, waiting for the right retort to grace his tongue. He didn’t get it this time. “We’ll figure it out when we get there.” He raked a hand through his hair and leaned forward. “Stop over-analyzing, calculating, and whatever else it is you’re doing in that head of yours and say yes.”

* * * *

Sabrina was trying to protect her heart. What would possess him to make such a proposition? She wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer. She gaped at him as confusion warred with disbelief on a battlefield of hope she didn’t want to acknowledge.

No. The word burned the tip of her tongue, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to refuse his proposal. Yes didn’t sound right either because accepting would be emotional suicide.

“This is crazy, Brody.” It baffled her how he didn’t seem to see that.

“Explain to me how it is any crazier than having a tube baby or getting pregnant by a man you’re not married to.”

I won’t lose my heart to either of those
. “Why?” she asked despite herself.

“Why what?”

“Why do this?”

His hesitation clued her in to the lie before it left his mouth. “You’re helping me. It’ll be my way to return the favor.”

Bullshit!

His lips tilted in a grin of pure male cockiness. “I won’t bother to point out the more obvious benefits.”

“The sex.”

“You said it yourself, it
was
good.”

“I’m fixing your taxes. You’re offering to marry me and give me a child.” She shook her head. “I’m failing to see the equivalency here.”

“It’s not my fault your mental calculator is apparently broken. Sounds to me like you need to change it in for one of those high-tech new gadgets with the letters and numbers, that way you can add ‘y’ plus ‘e’ plus ‘s’ and come up with the right solution. I told you to stop thinking about it so hard and say yes.”

Frustration propelled her to her feet. “I can’t make a rash decision like this. I need to think about it.” She needed to calculate the risks, analyze all the factors, and figure a way to salvage her soul while spending the next six plus months with a man who could, and likely would, tear her apart.

“I’ll humor you by not pointing out the rash decision you made two weeks ago in my pond.”

Sabrina spun on him and glared at him from beneath her lashes. “Yes, please, humor me.”

“I’ll do you one better than that. I’ll give you a week to decide. We can’t consummate the marriage for a few days anyway, right?”

“Right.” Sex. She’d been wrong. It
was
all about the sex for him. It stung knowing that. Except, why would a man like Brody Holt need to corner a woman into marriage to get sex?

“Then it’s settled. We’ll talk about it in a week.”

She expected him to leave, not reach for her hand and tug her down to sit in his lap. His fingers lightly brushed her hair aside, and his hands closed over her shoulders and started to massage.

“I figured I might finally get this finished since I can’t get carried away this time.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but smile any more than she could keep herself from melting under his touch. It felt so good being with him again. Too good. Dear God in heaven, how could she ever think to protect her heart from this man when she couldn’t function beyond the fiery lust that filled her when she got within ten feet of him?

“What’s your favorite color?”

His question pulled her out of her thoughts. She wrinkled her forehead as she shifted to look at him. “My what?”

“Turn around. I can’t massage you as well when you’re looking at me. I want to know what your favorite color is. If you’re going to be my wife I should know more about you. My favorite is brown and yours is…?”

Sabrina turned back around and grumbled, “Brown is boring.”

“It’s neutral,” he argued, but she heard the humor in his tone. “It’s also the color of horses and deer and grass in the winter. I figured you, being so practical and all, would understand that.”

“Red.” She bowed her head as his fingers moved over her flesh, kneading at the muscles in her shoulders and the back of her neck, eliciting a pleasured moan from her throat.

“Red what?” The laughter she heard previously in his tone turned to part confusion and a husky awareness that made her blood sizzle.

“Duh! My favorite color. It’s brilliant, sexy, bold red.” She swore she felt his cock jump beneath her bottom at that.

“What kind of food do you like?”

“Mexican, as hot as I can get it.”

He chuckled. “You can take the girl out of South Texas, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”

“You got it.”

“Favorite television show?”

“Wait, you didn’t answer the food question.”

“I’m a meat-and-potatoes boy.”

Sabrina grinned. “You can take the hat off the cowboy.”

“I’ve never heard that one, but I guess it fits.”

“I don’t watch television. I rarely have time, and when I do I prefer to find my entertainment in books.”

“Yeah, I noticed there seemed to be a stockpile of novels around your place. I like books, too. Do you ever read anything besides romance?”

“Sure. I read mysteries, suspense, thrillers.”

“Mm-hmm, but you haven’t been reading any of those lately.”

Sabrina glanced around her living room at the books cluttering the coffee and end tables, the shelves of the entertainment center, the pile haphazardly tossed in the far corner. All romance, she noted as he’d obviously done as well. “What you see are all subgenres.”

“Of romance,” he added.

She lifted a shoulder. “I’m female. Sue me. I like romance.”

His arm moved to circle her waist, to hold her as he leaned forward to snag one of her favorite erotica books off the coffee table. He whistled. “Looks like the edgy side of romance to me.”

She plucked the book from his hand and tossed it back on the table. Edgy side of romance described it perfectly. She knew he understood it, too. She’d seen the flickers of domination at random moments in his eyes, and it thrilled her in places she wasn’t sure had ever truly been awakened. “It’s still romance.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder, turned his face to the side of her neck, and grazed his lips over her flesh. “Feeling better?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slow. She did feel better. “Cramps are gone and shoulders are nice and loose, so yeah, I just might live to see another day after all. Thank you, Mr. Holt.”

He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “Glad to hear it. I’ve got to get going.” He patted the curve of her rear, lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all, and set her on the sofa beside him.