The Billionaire's Bauble (19 page)
Everything had been going so well up until they left the hospital. If he could do it all over again, he would have kept her naked in that tent. They never had trouble communicating that way.
David felt the familiar tug at his crotch that thinking about Sloane always induced. The woman made him hard from thousands of feet in the air and with hundreds of miles between them. He could only imagine the fun they’d be having now if she were sitting next to him.
She had only wanted one thing from him today, and he refused to give it to her. What did he know about love? Sloane well knew his past foibles with women, with relationships. Why had she pushed him so hard to say the three words he had never used before? And he had tried, had been honest, and that had only gotten him shoved out her door.
David ground his fist into his palm. How he wished he hadn’t equivocated. If only he’d said I love you, she’d be in his arms right now.
But did he love her?
He began to mentally tally the pros and cons of his relationship with Sloane. By the time his list compiled itself in his head, he was too tired to come to a conclusion. He fell asleep somewhere over the heartland, dreaming of Sloane.
When David finally made his way into his mansion, he was struck by a familiar smell. It wasn’t Sloane’s Chanel, but a sweeter odor, almost cloying. He flipped on the lights in the hallway even though it was still summer and light outdoors. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
The house had been transformed. He looked at his mother’s furniture, at her art on the walls, at the vases and books—all belonging once to her.
He walked room to room in a daze, and then he saw her. After all their years apart, Lexi hadn’t changed one bit.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her coldly.
She sauntered up to him, her long blonde hair swaying side to side. She wore a green silk number that did little to hide her slim, fit figure. David noted the dress was almost the same emerald color of Sloane’s eyes, and it made his stomach tense.
“I came to return your mother’s things,” she said smoothly, and she put her arms around David’s neck and placed her mouth on his.
Sloane had stayed up half the night, talking to her mom and then her dad about her predicament. Listening intently to her fears and hopes, each had sage advice to offer. As Sloane watched the sun rising over the farm house, she laid in bed, pondering their words.
Sloane’s mother said that from what she’d seen, David cared deeply for Sloane. David might not know it yet, but he was certainly acting like a man in love, all possessive and demanding.
“They get that way when they’re scared of losing us, or scared of their own feelings. Think about it, sweetheart. What bull doesn’t run when the knife gets close to their boom booms?” Sloane loved her mother’s sense of humor, but she doubted David, nonetheless.
Her father had been more understanding and had let Sloane cry on him until he needed a fresh shirt.
His kind of comfort was to be strong and quiet. “There, there,” he soothed. “You kids will work it out,” he consoled.
The one thing both her parents agreed upon and emphatically stated was that David must be told the truth. He had a child coming, and he needed time to prepare for fatherhood.
How they might share the child with thousands of miles between them was a particularly disturbing thought. Sloane didn’t want their child shipped cross country on a plane, spending one part of the year in the wilds of Alaska and the other part on a farm in New York. The baby deserved one home, one set of parents.
Logically, Sloane knew lots of kids lived in two homes, and they grew up to be successful, happy people, but she never envisioned that reality for her baby. Sloane believed she and her husband would marry, have a home, raise their children, live together in bliss, forever. How could she settle for less? As these dim visions lit up her overtired mind, her cell phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Sloane grabbed it so quickly she almost hung up before answering.
“Hello?” she gasped into the phone, waiting to hear David’s voice.
It was Maya.
“Hi, Sloane, how’re you?” Maya asked. Sloane could picture Maya in bed with Tony, snuggled up under a blanket, sipping coffee, phoning a friend. Sloane groaned pathetically.
“Not so good. I sprained my arm yesterday, and I stayed in New York because David doesn’t love me.” The words sounded like a frog’s croak, escaping her throat.
Maya snorted and said, “Yes, he does. You have to know that after all he’s done. He has chased you for two months, has wrung my ear raw talking about you. David most certainly loves you, or he wouldn’t be obsessed with getting you back to Alaska.”
Sloane sat up, alert now. “You’ve talked to him? Last night? Today? What did he say?”
“He called from the plane last night, and his mood was foul, but from what I could tell, he isn’t even close to giving up on you,” Maya answered.
Sloane absorbed the words and felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“That’s because he wants to possess me, not love me. He wants a shiny new bauble to add to his collection.”
“If you believe that, Sloane, you’re a bigger fool than he is.”
The words stung, but Sloane listened.
“Anyway, our plan worked out—sort of.” Sloane could hear hesitation in Maya’s voice.
“What do you mean? Did Lexi return David’s mom’s things?”
“Yes, she brought it all back. She’d had it in storage, so it was intact, in good shape. She helped the staff put everything back where it belonged, but then . . .”
Dread filled Sloane’s mind. What had Lexi done that made Maya, normally so articulate, falter?
“What? What happened?” Sloane urged.
“She stayed.”
The words rang like a warning bell in Sloane’s mind.
“Tony and I couldn’t make her leave. We figured you and David would return together, and she’d get the message loud and clear. But you didn’t come home with him . . .” The words were a censure, and Sloane felt the brunt of her stupidity like she’d been struck by an anvil.
“Are they together now?” Sloane whispered into the phone.
“Together, I don’t know. What I do know is she is at the mansion, and so is David.”
Sloane sat in stunned silence, waiting to hear more. Maya had finished, though, and both women remained tongue-tied.
“Oh, Maya, I don’t know what to do next,” Sloane admitted.
“Get to the airport. Tony sent his jet. Forster needs you, too, you know.”
“I don’t know.” Though the thought of returning to Alaska, of seeing David, buoyed her spirits somewhat, she still felt conflicted. Maybe Maya was right. Sloane leaned back against her pillows.
“Sloane, if you love David half as much as I love Tony, you’ll get back here and settle this thing. Lexi is a selfish, true-blue gold digger, but she loved David at one time. Who’s to say she can’t worm her way back into the spot you so expeditiously vacated?”
Sloane became angry. “If he’s that quick to replace me then he definitely isn’t worth my time.”
“Okay. You’re right about that. But don’t you have a life here without David? College friends, a great job, Tony and me? You have a nice apartment, a beautiful car, a life, Sloane. Your life. Don’t let David take that away from you.”
It seemed Maya had changed her tactic.
Sloane smiled despite the misery filling her chest. She put her hand to her belly, rubbed it gently. Maya was right. Even if David could never love her, never be her soul mate, she deserved a good life. She had that in Alaska, with or without David. And their child—he deserved parents in one state.
“Maya, I’m coming home.”
Sloane had never been on a private jet before. The luxurious cabin had soft leather couches, a giant flat-screened TV set, a computer station and two bathrooms. She could definitely get used to this, she thought, as the plane made its way back to Alaska.
The goodbyes had taken their toll on Sloane. It was especially hard to leave her mother.
“This is the 21
st
century, Sloane. There are so many ways to keep in touch. Don’t you worry, before the you know it, we’ll be celebrating the birth of our first grandchild!”
Sloane wished she could match her mother’s enthusiasm. Admitting to herself that she was scared of what she’d find out about David and Lexi, Sloane tried to calm her querulous nerves with memories of the wedding, of the nights inside the tent, of the way David made her blood race and her heart pound. The man was an adept, even expert lover. She wanted to make love to him now, to show him her devotion, her desire.
“Keep that woman at bay,” she prayed. When she and Maya had concocted the plan to reach out to Lexi and offer her money to return David’s prize possessions, they’d never imagined she’d try to return to David’s bed as well.
What if David believed Sloane was done with him? Would he take Lexi to his bed, for old time’s sake? To reward her for her good deed? Sloane would bet the family farm Lexi hadn’t mentioned being bribed to do the right thing. Maybe David would bed her to spite Sloane, to prove he didn’t need her or love her.
Summoning all her courage, Sloane decided not to let negative thoughts worry her. She had a baby to care for, and even in the womb, the baby might be harmed by her enervated mind.
Sloane stood and did some yoga poses. If nothing else, she had the room and the time to indulge herself on the way home.
Home?
The word made her involuntarily smile despite her dismay. Alaska was home and not New York. When had that shift happened? Sloane conceded it was David who had made her feel Alaska was home. Even when she had refused to see him, to speak with him, he had showered her with gifts and voicemail. She recalled returning home each evening, expectant of what he might have sent her. Like a sweet adolescent crush, each day brought her a note or a card, a bouquet of flowers, a box of candy. He had been so mindful, so intent on wooing her, as if she were his avocation.
Sloane admonished herself for forcing him to leave New York without her. If she’d gotten on that plane with him, Lexi wouldn’t be with him right now. Self-recrimination flooded her body, and she tried a lotus position to pacify her jangled ruminations.
Her legs crossed easily, but her baby bump, which by everything she knew, appeared abnormally large for a first pregnancy, already poked out over her low slung jeans. Her pants at the thighs also seemed tight. She wouldn’t be able to hide this pregnancy for long.
The aircraft touched down on a private jet strip in Fairbanks, and Sloane watched through the window, anxious to get off the taxiing plane.
She saw a limousine waiting near the gate and remembered how pleased she was when David and she rode through her hometown in a similar vehicle. She reveled in the memory of David’s hands on her breasts as he tried to talk her into a quickie in the back seat. His amorous advances almost won out, too, but then there had been the pond, the tent, their intense desire for one another never entirely satisfied. She couldn’t wait to see him again, she realized, and her palms began to sweat. Nerves, she thought. No, anticipation.
Maya and Tony emerged from the confines of their limo, and Sloane ran to hug them both.
“Glad you’re back, Ace,” Tony smiled. “How’d the ride go?”
“Great. Thanks so much for sending the jet. I owe you,” Sloane said, a smile on her face.
“Where shall we take you?” asked Maya.
“Um, maybe we should stop by my place, so I can freshen up. Then I am going to find David.”
“Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you?” Maya looked askance at Tony, and he said, “I’m not letting Sloane go alone to see David, whether she likes it or not. I’m the boss, remember?”
Maya slapped his rear. “Only when I let you be,” she reminded him, and he guffawed.
Sloane grinned at her two friends. “I would like you both to come with me. I don’t know why, but I have a funny feeling I might need your help. No, that David might need your help. I have a lot to tell him.”
“Let’s go then,” Tony said, and he helped Maya and Sloane into the waiting vehicle.
Sloane couldn’t believe how small her apartment felt after spending a few days on the farm. Normally, the confines seemed cozy, just enough space for her, but now, with a baby on board, she wondered how she’d ever manage a crib, a playpen, a changing table within the tiny space. Maybe she needed to consider a larger apartment.
Tony and Maya went to the corner store for coffee-to-go while Sloane showered and changed. She chose a simple white cotton eyelet A-line dress, a pair of low heels, and a light chiffon scarf for her arm sling. She tried to pull her hair into a ponytail, but her sore arm made the task impossible. She knew David preferred her hair down anyway. Lastly, she applied a coating of pink lipstick, and dabbed at her throat and pulse points with drops of Chanel perfume. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she felt about as put together as she could be given jet lag and baby weight. Time to face the music, she thought, and prayed David would be happy about their child.
Sloane, Tony, and Maya drove by Grant first, and parked near the doors. Tony ran inside to find out where David was since he had neglected to answer his phone when called. Maya held Sloane’s hand.
“How are you feeling? Have you experienced any complications?”
“What?” Sloane gulped hard, and her hand fluttered at her waistline before landing on her chest.
“Your accident a couple days ago on the ATV? David told us you had taken another tumble, and I can see your arm in a sling, Sloane.” Maya was all eyes and ears now.
Sloane covered quickly, “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m just preoccupied.”
“Okay, so answer the question then,” she smiled. “Sore? Are you taking medication for the pain?”
“I don’t even notice the arm, to be honest, and I only have to wear the sling another day or two. All I can think about is . . . Oh, here comes Tony.” Sloane pointed through the car’s window at Tony who jogged toward them, a smile on his face.
Maya opened the car door and Tony sat beside her. “He’s working at home. I wonder why he hasn’t answered my calls. I gave him hell about losing that deal, but he usually takes my drubbings without pouting.”
“That was my fault, Tony. We were at my brother’s wedding, and I guess David decided Grant Oil could survive a few days without him. I think he was trying to prove that he could be a regular working stiff instead of a billionaire wheeler dealer. Country life got to him.” She smiled at the memory of his valiant behavior. Remembering how he had told her he was all hers, she hoped he still meant it. Or did she?
Sloane knew she loved David, and that maybe he felt the same, but that was a long stretch from commitment, from soul mate, from daddy. She closed her eyes and exhaled through pursed lips. Maya patted her knee.
“Don’t worry, Sloane. We’ll be there in a moment.”
Driving toward David’s house, Sloane started feeling that familiar upset tummy feeling—why did they call it morning sickness anyway? She woke up feeling great. It was the entire rest of the day that troubled her belly.
