Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (13 page)

The silver coffee pot was considered neutral territory by necessity. It was in great demand that early in the morning. The participants tended to monopolize it, especially, since two of the four, negotiators were nursing headaches of monstrous proportions.

The battle lines had been drawn, the parties, stalemated, on either side. David looked at Reese, then at Faith. “Let’s go over the terms of the contract once again.”

“We’ve been over the contract,” Reese interrupted. “What’s the point of going over it again?”

“The point,” David said firmly, “is to sign it. Neither of you has agreed to do that yet.”

“She has to sign it. I’ve already paid an advance on her salary,” Reese stated.

“I’ve already spent the money. I can’t give it back,” Faith reminded him.

“The least you can do is sign the damned contract.” Reese glared at her. He hadn’t slept, and he had a bitch of a headache. He was in no mood to negotiate every point of the contract.

“Not the way it stands.” Faith gritted her teeth and rubbed her forehead. Her head ached, probably from all the champagne she’d consumed. Why hadn’t he warned her about the effects of too much champagne?

“What’s wrong with it?” Reese was spoiling for a fight and it was all Faith’s fault. If she hadn’t worn that damn red dress, he wouldn’t have been in this condition.

“Everything.” Faith crossed her arms over her chest. The man
reeked
. He smelled like a saloon of cigar smoke, alcohol, and expensive perfume. How dare he show up looking and smelling this way? It was insulting. As insulting as being ignored all evening while he talked politics with Yankee robber barons, and then being dropped off at the front desk of a hotel at two o’clock in the morning without so much as a goodnight kiss! He had some nerve!

She had nerve, he thought, sitting there refusing to sign. Who did she think she was, looking at him as if he’d crawled from the gutter, when she was the one who’d gotten tipsy on champagne? What right did she have to glower at him? He was the one who’d kept his wits about him. If he hadn’t dropped her off at the hotel, he’d have made love to her in the carriage—without a contract. How would she feel about that?

Reese reached for the coffee pot. She beat him to it, her hand already on the silver handle. He seized the pot and pulled it in his direction. Faith stubbornly refused to let go.

“Children, children,” Tempy chided, taking the pot from their hands and pouring both of them a cup. “You’re behaving like spoiled, pig-headed, little brats.” She looked to David for confirmation.

David agreed. “We aren’t getting anywhere. Why don’t we call the whole thing off?”

“No!” Reese and Faith shouted, simultaneously.

“Then stop this nonsense and let’s get down to business.” David’s voice was firm. His patience was stretched to the limits by their stubbornness. It was time to compromise or quit. “First of all…”

He explained the contract thoroughly, then went over the sticking points. “The fee is twenty thousand dollars.” He looked to Reese.

Reese nodded in agreement.

Tempy gasped at the enormous amount of money.

Faith shook her head.

“Oh, hell!” Reese muttered in disgust. “What’s wrong with that? Not enough?”

“Too much,” Faith said firmly.

“Too much?” Reese sputtered, surprised. “What the devil…?” For a minute, he had forgotten who he was dealing with. “How much do you want?”

“Half that amount,” she told him. “I’ll accept ten thousand.”

Reese looked at David. “All right. I agree to pay you ten thousand. Half now and half at delivery. Agreed?” He stared at Faith, willing her to agree.

“Minus the advance of three thousand, eighty-six dollars and thirty four cents, of course.”

“Minus the advance,” Reese agreed. She didn’t know about the extra six thousand in her bank. And by the time she found out, the contract would be signed, witnessed, and recorded. He wanted to be sure she couldn’t come back after the divorce, begging for more money, or claiming he’d cheated her. She’d get twenty thousand whether she wanted it or not.

“Mr. Jordan agrees to provide food, clothing, and shelter for both Mrs. Collins and her daughter, Joy. He will also pay any additional living expenses for the duration of the pregnancy.” David continued, “Mrs. Collins agrees to reside at Mr. Jordan’s ranch in Wyoming for up to one year. She agrees to leave as soon as she is able to travel following the birth of the child.” He looked at Faith.

She started to agree when Temperance whispered in her ear. “I agree to leave as soon as my health permits, provided a suitable wet nurse is in residence. My aunt pointed out that finding a wet nurse might take some time. I won’t deprive my child of nourishment.” Faith blushed, profusely, as she met Reese’s gaze. “Is that acceptable to you, Mr. Jordan?”

“Acceptable and reasonable,” he told her, “I appreciate your concern for my child as long as you understand that you are forfeiting your rights to him. You must leave Wyoming and never attempt to contact him.”

Faith shifted in her chair. Her eyes brimmed with tears and her stomach lurched, convulsively, but she didn’t speak.

“Do you understand?” Reese asked, bluntly, running his fingers through his hair.

Faith nodded.

“Do you agree to forfeit all rights of motherhood?” Reese met her gaze. “Permanently?”

“Even if you die?” Faith asked. “Or get killed?” She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began twisting it. She pinned him with those solemn, gray eyes.

“Even then.” He flinched when he met her gaze, but he refused to look away.

Faith hesitated. “What would happen to him if you died?”

“Mr. Jordan will be the legal father of the infant and the baby will be his legal and rightful heir. A guardian is to be named in Mr. Jordan’s will, and appointed to take care of the child until its majority,” David explained.

Faith looked at the attorney. “David, I want you to be the baby’s guardian. If something should happen to Mr. Jordan, I want you to agree to raise my child.”

“I’ll decide what’s best for my child,” Reese told her. He had already signed a new will naming David guardian of any offspring, but that was beside the point. He couldn’t allow Faith Collins to dictate terms.

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else,” Faith said quietly. She rose from her chair and leaned over the table. “This point is not negotiable. The guardian must be David Alexander.” She was aware that only David would know her whereabouts if something happened to Reese. He would be her only link to her child.

She held her breath. She thought he might refuse. He certainly looked as if he wanted to. His eyes were dark and stormy, and narrowed to mere slits in his face. He clenched his teeth. The muscles on the right side of his face quivered under the strain.

She leaned down to whisper something in her aunt’s ear. Tempy pushed her chair away from the table.

Reese remained seated. He wanted to call her bluff. He wanted to challenge her, but he didn’t. He sat in impotent fury, knowing he had to agree to her condition. He could tell from the deliberately impassive look on her face that she would not concede.

“All right, dammit!” He did not lose graciously. “I agree to your terms.” He waited for her to gloat over her victory, but again he had misjudged her.

Her softly spoken thank-you sounded grateful and sincere.

And so it continued throughout the morning as they examined, discussed, and decided upon every minute detail of the contract until they reached the stickiest point of all.

Uncomfortable with the final item, David cleared his throat and reached for the last sheet of paper. “All that’s left to settle is the actual…uh...number...” He cleared his throat once more, louder this time, and tried again. “The...uh...actual...number of…attempts at conception.”

“
What?
” Tempy couldn’t believe her ears. She blushed to the roots of her red hair at the idea of setting an actual number.

“We must establish a time frame. If the child is not delivered within one year, the contract is null and void.” David struggled to maintain his professional demeanor.

Reese grinned.

Tempy and Faith huddled together, discussing the ramifications of the scheme. They whispered together for several minutes before they arrived at a number.

“Do you think three will be sufficient?” Faith asked.

Reese grinned again, this time with smug satisfaction. “I think three will be fine.”

David scribbled in the number without allowing time for further debate.

In their haste to settle on a number, neither Reese nor Faith thought to ask if “three” referred to the number of times they would share a bed or if it meant three minutes, three hours, three days, weeks, or months.

David handed Reese and Faith a copy of the agreement, then held out his pen.

“There is one other thing,” Reese said casually. “From the moment you sign this paper, Mrs. Collins, you will live with me. Only me. If I even suspect you’ve been with another man, the contract will be declared invalid and the money forfeited.”

“How dare you?” Tempy leaped to her feet.

“I dare, Miss Hamilton,” Reese answered silkily, “because there must be no question about my son’s paternity. I want him to have impeccable bloodlines and an untarnished reputation.” He fixed his chocolate-brown eyes on Faith. “I may not choose to announce it publicly, but we are legally bound until the end of your pregnancy. The proxy marriage is real. We are temporarily husband and wife. In Wyoming, we will live as husband and wife. I’ll expect you to behave circumspectly. There will be no other men in your life.”

Faith recoiled as if he’d slapped her. Her cheeks turned a brilliant red. Her chest heaved in indignation. Her gray eyes flashed angrily. “Is that your final condition?” Her words were frosty.

“It is.”

“Good.” Faith continued to face him. “I, too, have a final condition. You see, Mr. Jordan, I am very fastidious. If you ever come to me in your present state―reeking of alcohol, tobacco, and another woman’s perfume―I will consider the contract null and void whether I carry your child or not. I’ll gladly forfeit the remainder of the money, but you will forfeit all rights to my child.” She swallowed quickly to discourage the bile churning in her throat. “I agreed to that farcical ceremony, and I, at least, had the courage to utter the words. In person. Understand this, Mr. Jordan: There will be no other women in your life for the duration of the contract.” She flung his words back in his face.

Reese said nothing. He jerked the pen from David’s hand and scrawled his signature on one copy of the agreement, then the other, before shoving the instrument at Faith.

She took the pen and without even glancing his way, signed her name to both documents. She passed the papers to Tempy to witness.

Once that was done, Faith quickly stalked out the door. She walked down the hall, past the door to the Vice Presidential Suite, and into the water closet where she violently expelled the contents of her stomach.

* * *

“She drives a hard bargain,” Reese admitted. He was up to his chest in hot, soapy water, eliminating the odor, easing away the excesses of the night before, and nursing a snifter of brandy. The hair of the dog that had bitten him. “Hell of a way to start off the New Year.”

David threw back his head and laughed. He sat on a chair inside the folding screen, a few feet away from the bathtub. “I’ll say. Your plan almost blew up in your face.”

“
She
almost blew up in my face. I’ve never seen a woman get quite that angry or turn so green.” He knew it was cruel, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I hope she made it to the basin.”

“Get used to it,” David warned. “Pregnant women are often nauseated. I’m told morning sickness is a force to be reckoned with.”

Reese took another sip of his brandy. “I should have ordered some champagne along with the coffee this morning, but I was too busy suffering to worry about her.”

“Well, you’d better get used to worrying about her.” David chuckled at Reese’s puzzled expression. “She’s your responsibility for the rest of the year.”

“And Joy,” Reese said thoughtfully. “Don’t forget about Joy.”

“Or the baby,” David reminded him. “The whole purpose of this unorthodox scheme is to produce a baby.” He smiled at Reese, a dimple creasing his left cheek. “Looks like you’re about to have the family you’ve always craved, Reese.”

Reese frowned, his eyebrows knitting his forehead. He hadn’t realized his needs were that transparent. “It’s time. Most men already have families by the time they reach my age. I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want to be too old to enjoy my son.”

“Ancient at thirty-one,” David teased. “I hope you enjoyed yourself last night and sowed all your wild oats.” David was well aware of how Reese had passed his time after leaving Faith Collins at the hotel.

“I played cards,” Reese told him, “and I drank. I didn’t indulge the ladies. Or myself.”

“Very circumspect behavior.” David grinned at his cousin. “And good practice. Because it looks like you’re going to be on a very tight rein from now on.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he opened his mouth to add further insult.

But Reese was quicker. He raised his arm, and the wet, soapy sponge went flying through the air, leaving a trail of bathwater in its wake. It sailed the length of the tub to collide with David Alexander’s big mouth.

“You were saying?” Reese taunted.

“I ought to keep my damn mouth shut.” David accepted Reese’s taunt good-naturedly. He tossed the sponge back, then dried his face with a towel, got up from the chair, and walked to the door. “I think I’ll check on the ladies.”

“I’m going to take a short nap,” Reese told him. “Why don’t you tactfully suggest Faith do the same?”

“With you? Or alone?” David couldn’t resist.

“Alone.” Reese laughed. “I’m not a complete fool. I do know when to retreat.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” David commented dryly, “because the lady in question is likely to make mincemeat of you if you cross her path before sundown.”