The Great Baby Caper (24 page)

At last she realized she wasn’t
angry because she’d had to take over with the kids, she was hurt because she
felt abandoned by him. Rightly or wrongly, she
felt
it. She wanted him
there with her, with their baby.

She missed Mark. Damn it, she
really
missed him.

***

Sitting in the plane over the
mid-Atlantic, Mark was missing Courtney just as much. He would have given his
eyeteeth not to have to return to London right now. But his companies had been
too long neglected, and financial disaster loomed if he failed to take charge
again. In particular, he couldn’t lose Billingham’s to a hostile takeover bid.
He owed that much to his father’s memory.

He knew he had disappointed
Courtney, and that hurt terribly. He didn’t want her to think he’d be one of
those cavalier husbands who disappeared whenever a crisis arose or
responsibilities became too heavy. But she must think that now.

On the other hand, this emergency
had also brought their dilemma into sharper focus. How would they juggle all
the responsibilities of their careers, and a family, too? These last couple of
days with the children had demonstrated to him how important and time-consuming
such responsibilities would be. Right now, he didn’t know how things could work
between him and Courtney unless one of them made some sacrifices. Should
Courtney give up her career? Should he give up his? Should they live in the
States, or in England?

Were they both too strong-willed
to make any compromises on this at all? Again he recalled Courtney’s accusing
him of taking charge of her, of insisting on having things his way. He wanted
to be fair and share decisions with her, but perhaps he was spoiled in that
regard, used to living independently and making all his own choices. He was not
accustomed to sharing his life, his hopes and dreams, with a woman.

Could he reveal his heart to her,
make himself vulnerable to her, when he was so afraid of losing her, and she
kept insisting his love could not be real?

These questions troubled him
throughout the flight. But most of all he missed her more than he could bear.

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For Courtney the balance of the
week passed in a flurry of busy days and the torture of lonely nights. Thank
heaven, her friend Vanessa was able to step in to babysit with Brittany and
Joshua during the day so that Courtney could attend to things at the office.
However, she, her staff, as well as the digital expert and private detectives
that they’d hired, had made no progress in investigating the instances of
industrial espionage. Thankfully the incidents had stopped, at least for the
moment.

The day after Mark left, Wally
Gilchrist departed the company; Courtney honored him with a low-key farewell
luncheon in the conference room. Bidding Wally farewell, Courtney wished she
could hope the pause in the harassment was tied to his departure. But her gut
told her otherwise.

Of course she couldn’t help but
notice that the lull in the sabotage also coincided with Mark’s being out of
the country. But would he really stoop to criminal conduct in order to force
her out of her job and make her a stay-at-home wife? Surely her husband
possessed much more integrity than that.

Courtney was able to make progress
in other areas, meeting with lawyers and investment bankers regarding their
plans to go public. Her evenings were spent with the children, and she enjoyed
them more than she would have expected. Fortunately by the second night, she
and the kids had their routine established, and now Joshua and Brittany were
asleep by eight or so each evening. But that left Courtney with the rest of the
night to think about Mark, often tossing and turning. She just hadn’t counted
on missing him so much. She hadn’t wanted to miss him—or to need him so much.
She wasn’t used to depending on anyone but herself. But Mark had changed that,
and now she was left feeling vulnerable.

Late Thursday night she was just
dozing off when her phone rang. She grabbed the receiver and mumbled sleepily,
“Hello?”

“Hello, darling. Did I wake you?”

Instantly she was wide awake.
“Mark. Is that you?”

“Yes, of course it is I. Sorry if
I woke you. I’m at my flat watching the sunrise over the Thames, and I was just
wishing you could be here to share it with me.”

Feeling a lump in her throat, she
murmured, “How sweet.”

“How are things there? I’ve been
very worried about you, you know.”

“Thanks. Well, Vanessa was
available to help with the kids, so I’ve been able to go to the office.”

“Thank heaven. How are Brit and
Joshie?”

Courtney had to smile; Mark
already had his pet names for them. “Just fine.”

“And you? Feeling okay?”

“Never better.”

“Any progress on your
investigation?”

“No, but at least there have been
no more incidents. How about you? How are things there?”

“Well, I’ve managed to ward off
the takeover and patch up several other matters, but I’m not sure I can
continue to stay gone so long in the future.”

Courtney sighed. “I see.”

“Guess we’ll have to talk about
that when I get back.”

“Yes. Guess we will.” She
hesitated, then asked, “When will that be?”

His voice lowered an octave. “Do
you miss me, Courtney?”

“Well. . .”

Now his tone grew hoarse with
yearning. “Because I miss you terribly, darling.”

His words all but melted her, made
her yearn to throw caution to the winds and admit how lonely she was, too. But
caution held her back. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

He sighed. “I’m taking an
overnight flight on Friday, which means I should be back by mid-Saturday.”

“Oh. Guess I’ll see you then.”

“Will the children be back with
their parents by then?”

“Yes. Carla and Jason should pick
them up Friday evening.”

“I’ll miss seeing them. I’ve
gotten presents for them both.”

Touched, she replied, “They miss
you. All Brittany talks about is her Mark.”

“How sweet.” He paused. “Courtney,
when I get back . . . could we go off somewhere together Saturday night, just
the two of us? Talk things over?”

She stiffened slightly. “You mean
spend the night away?”

“Yes.”

“And you seriously think we’d
talk
?”

He chuckled. “I’m trying to be
high-minded about this.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“Will you go away with me,
Courtney?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Okay, but while you’re thinking,
pack a bag.”

“Overconfident, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. See you on Saturday,
then.” He hesitated, then added, “Love you.”

Taken aback, Courtney at last
replied, “I—I’ll see you then.”

Hanging up, she felt tremendously
shaken. If sleep had proven illusive before, it would be impossible now! Mark
had said he loved her. Well, not exactly. He’d said “Love you,” not quite “I
love you.” Still, it had been thrilling, frightening, touching—and the most
sexy thing he’d ever said to her.

Oh, she was in so much trouble.
He’d said he’d missed her. He wanted to go away with her. Just the two of them
alone . . . Whatever was she going to do? She missed him desperately, too. How
could she hide that fact from him? How would she resist him when he returned?
They might still know eventual heartache, for his absence more than
demonstrated the long-term challenges they would face.

***

At his loft in St. Katherine’s
Dock, Mark hung up the phone and gazed out at the sunrise painting the Thames a tawny gold. He felt filled with tenderness. These last days had been frantically
busy but also wretchedly lonely without Courtney, and his heart felt warmed
after he’d spoken with her.

She had sounded sleepy—and lonely.
Or so he hoped. Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

And he’d finally admitted the
feelings in his heart. He loved her. But when he’d made his declaration, she’d
seemed not to react at all. Was she still miffed that he’d left her in a bind
with the children? He must make that up to her.

How he wished he’d been there with
her when he’d said the words, to see her reaction when he said it, to look into
her eyes as he made love to her. He would be there soon. And soon, he prayed,
they would be one again.

***

Saturday afternoon, Courtney was
nervous as a cat, waiting for Mark to come home. Even though she still had
doubts about their marriage, she couldn’t wait to touch him and hold him again.
She straightened her apartment, took a bubble bath, primped for over an hour,
then dressed in green slacks and a matching curve-hugging sweater.

When her doorbell rang at
three-thirty, she literally ran across the room and flung open the door.

Holding a bouquet of roses, Mark
stood there dressed in wrinkled khakis and a rumpled blue shirt, looking
exhausted and slightly bleary-eyed, unshaven. But never had he appeared more
beautiful to her—especially when his eyes lit with love and tenderness at the
sight of her.

“Mark,” she whispered.

“Darling—you look so beautiful.”

He was barely inside, the door
shut behind him, when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately.
The roses fell into a heap on the floor nearby. Courtney moaned in delight,
loving the taste of his warm lips, not at all minding the rub of his whiskers.
His arms felt so warm and strong about her and his male scent aroused her
desires.

After a moment they broke apart to
breathe, then he buried his face in her throat. “I missed you so much.”

His mouth felt heavenly against
her soft skin. “Me, too.”

“Forgive me for leaving you in
such a pickle?”

“Yes, of course. You’re here now.”

“Yes. I’m here.”

When abruptly he pulled her close
and kissed her more intimately, plunging his tongue into her mouth, Courtney
knew precisely what he had in mind, and she knew she was powerless to resist.
He lifted her into his arms and with quick strides strode to the couch. He laid
her down and gently covered her body with his own. His gaze burned into hers,
and the warm weight of him on top of her was sheer ecstasy.

Though he was careful not to crush
her, his touch was bold as he hiked up her sweater, undid the clasp on her bra,
and buried his face between her breasts. With a delighted cry, Courtney thrust
her fingers into his hair. He flicked his tongue teasingly all over her
breasts, then suckled at nipples that were already tender from her pregnancy.
Tears sprang to Courtney’s eyes as desire and love flooded her. She did not
know what was happening to her, but she was losing control with Mark and there
was no way to stop it. She had missed him so much, and she needed him now with
a fierceness that was all-consuming, that hurt with its intensity. If he wasn’t
inside her soon, she felt she would die.

Fingers trembling, she fumbled at
his trousers, found the button, and then, with greater assurance, unzipped his
pants, slipped her fingers inside his briefs and touched him. His response was
immediate as he left her breasts and seized her mouth in a devouring kiss. She
was amazed at how quickly he tugged off her own slacks and panties. Then he was
inside her, deeply, greedily inside her, thick and hot just as she wanted him
to be.

With groan, he pulled back and
gazed into her eyes. “God, how I missed you.”

“Me, too. So much.” Courtney could
barely gasp out the words. She hauled him closer and kissed him recklessly,
while lifting her hips to take more of him . . .

***

Afterward, they cuddled together
on the couch, both slightly dazed.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he
said, nuzzling her temple.

She roved her hand down his
muscular thigh. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He kissed the tip of
her nose. “I think you really did miss me.”

“I did, Mark,” she admitted
softly.

His hand stroked her lower belly,
and she wondered if he were searching for the evidence of their child. All at
once she found this unbearably sexy. She took his hand and guided it slightly
lower. “There, Mark.”

“There what?” he teased.

“There’s our child,” she told him
almost shyly. “Run your fingers along there, and you can feel the outline of my
uterus rising up.”

He stroked her gently. “So I can.
Our child.” He leaned over and kissed the spot. “Hello, there, little one.”

“You think he hears you?”

Mark grinned proudly at her. “He?”

“Or she.”

He nodded. “Yes, I think he hears
me. You know, I meant what I said on the phone.”

Heart pounding, she gazed at him
breathlessly. “About what?”

“About our getting away. What say
you and I drive up to Central City for the night?”

Courtney was both surprised and
secretly thrilled. “You mean stay at a hotel together?”

He chuckled. “After what we just
shared, a thoroughly shocking suggestion, my love.”

“Mark, be serious.”

“I am. We need to talk.”

“Why do I sense that’s not what’s
really on your mind?”

He rolled her beneath him and
spoke huskily. “Don’t worry, love. There’ll be plenty of that, too.”

“I’m not wor—”

But the rest was lost in his
drowning kiss, and her own moan of pleasure as his body claimed hers once more.

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Sitting beside Mark in his car,
Courtney wondered what on earth she was doing. Throwing caution to the winds,
that was for sure. Her husband looked far too appealing, especially with his
fresh clothing and clean shave; before they’d left her apartment, he’d showered
and changed while she packed a bag.

What had happened to her doubts,
her resolve? Previously her entire life had been planned, organized, even premeditated.
Why was she taking such a risk?

For weeks she had scolded herself
that she must take things slowly with Mark, work out their problems before they
made love again. But an hour ago she had rushed into his arms and torn his
clothes off. Now she was going off with him for what would certainly be a
lovers’ tryst. Even though he had argued that they must get away to talk, she
had no doubt that they would spend almost all of the next twenty-four hours in
bed together.

The setting was certainly both
dramatic and romantic, as Mark wound the car through stately rock canyons
carved through tall majestic mountains topped with snow and ringed by mists.
The mountains wore the lush green coat of full-blown summer. Along the roadside
delicate wildflowers bloomed and spiky yucca speared the atmosphere; horned
larks and bluebirds flitted about, while in the valleys near sparkling streams,
mule deer munched on green grasses. The setting was awe-inspiring and made
Courtney feel many of her current problems were very small . . .

Sitting across from his wife, Mark
wondered what Courtney was thinking. Her lovely face held a curious
expression—part perplexity, part fascination with the landscape rolling by.
Making love with her earlier had been beautiful, deeply humbling. He wanted to
feel she was truly his now. But he was realistic enough to know that the
physical intimacy had hardly resolved all their problems. He was deeply
concerned for her, for their child, for their marriage. They might be together
now, but they faced so many of the same stumbling blocks.

“Are you all right, dear?” he
asked her. “You know, I hadn’t thought of our going so high up into the
mountains with respect to your pregnancy. Should we be concerned?”

“No. I’ve gone up into these
mountains all my life, and my doctor says I’m healthy as a horse.”

“You’re familiar with Central
City, then?”

“Sure. We went there for
excursions when I was little. By the time I was in college, the casinos were
established, so I went gambling there with friends.”

“Misbehaving, eh?”

“Blowing off steam.”

“I’ve been to Central City once
before,” he admitted. “Grandfather took me there when the two of us went trout
fishing. We stayed at a charming bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town. If
it’s still in operation, I’m hoping we can stay there tonight.”

“You and your romantic cottage
getaways.”

“You seemed to enjoy Mackinac well
enough.”

A slow smile pulled at her mouth.
“Yes,” she admitted, “I did.”

“I do like staying at places with
character. Traveling as much as I do, I find ‘world-class’ hotels grow bland
and predictable after a while.”

A few moments later the town of Central City appeared before them, a collection of historic homes and old buildings
nestled in a high mountain pass. Mark gestured toward a glitzy complex of
buildings off the roadway. “Aside from the addition of the casino, the town
hasn’t changed much since I’ve been here. Let’s see if I can remember the way
to that B & B.”

He turned onto a narrow side
street flanked by charming Queen Anne style cottages, then paused the car
before a precious two-story Victorian house painted a muted lavender with white
trim. Pointing toward a sign in the front yard that read, “The Lavender
Cottage, Bed and Breakfast,” he announced, “Hey, look, it’s still there.”

“Indeed it is,” murmured Courtney.
She stared at the ornate edifice in awe. With wraparound verandas curling about
both stories, beautifully carved pillars and porch railings, and gleaming
windows hung with Cape Cods, the setting could not have been more cozy. A
gaslight beckoned in the yard, pointing the way toward fern-lined steps leading
to cozy porch rockers and rattan chairs.

“You’re pleased?” he asked.

“It looks delightful.”

Sporting a proud grin, Mark hopped
out of his side of the car, hurried around, and opened her door. As he escorted
her through the gate and into the yard, Courtney could smell the delightful
scents of roses and freshly mown grass.

Before they even reached the
house, the front door opened and a smiling elderly woman appeared. “Are you Mr.
Billingham?” she called.

As Courtney glanced askance at
Mark, he replied, “Yes, ma’am. And you must be Libbie Walters.”

The slender gray-haired woman, in
flower-printed dress and apron, moved toward them on the porch. “Indeed. Your room
is all ready for you and your wife, sir.”

“Jolly splendid.”

As Mark led Courtney up the steps,
she turned to him mutinously. “You already had this planned.”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied.
“I wanted to surprise you, so I called the lady from the plane.”

“That was assuming a lot,” she
said, though scolding him took quite an effort.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned
mischievously. “You mean you’re not going to call me hopelessly romantic
again?”

Courtney bit her tongue, feeling
tempted to do just that.

***

Their room was gorgeous, airy, and
large, with a polished wood floor and several large windows offering a mountain view. A king-size brass bed dominated the space, while an alcove with a
comfortable sofa and huge bay window invited leisure sitting and nature
viewing. But the bathroom was the coup de grâce. Almost as large as the
bedroom, it sported matching wood floors, plush white rugs, a shower, and a
huge bathtub with a Jacuzzi.

Turning back toward the room,
Courtney saw Mark staring at her and her cheeks began to burn. “Nice plumbing.”

He grinned wickedly. “Thanks,
love. Want to go exploring while we still have some light?”

“Sure.”

Grabbing jackets, they left the
cottage and strolled hand-in-hand through the charming old town that in many
ways still resembled a mining town of the late nineteenth century. They
marveled at the ornate storefronts, toured the Teller House Museum, and stopped in at the “Face Bar” to see the famous “Face on the Barroom Floor,” which
had been painted as a practical joke on a traveling actor who had recited the
poem there. Afterward they dined on prime rib at a nearby cozy restaurant. They
said little during dinner, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Over cheesecake, Mark suddenly
snapped his fingers. “You know, I almost forgot.” He retrieved a small velvet
box from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Courtney fingered the box. “Mark,
you shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense, open it. You deserve
something nice after I left you in a lurch that way. Besides, how could I go to
London and not bring you back a souvenir?”

Throwing him a chiding glance, she
opened the box, only to gasp at the sight of what was at least a two-carat
brilliant round diamond, dangling on a gold chain, flanked by equally dazzling
solitaire earrings.

“My God,
this
is a
souvenir?” she asked, gazing at him wide-eyed.

“A small token of my esteem.”

“Mark!” she cried. “You’re talking
a small fortune in diamonds here.”

“Seeing the expression on your
face makes it all worthwhile.”

“Mark, I can’t—”

He clasped her hand and pinned her
with a look of intense pleading. “Don’t, Courtney. You’re my bride and I want
to spoil you. Put them on, please.”

His words proved as unaccountably
sexy as were his diamonds. Unable to resist, she placed the pendant around her
neck, removed her modest pearl earrings and put on the diamonds.

Mark whistled. “Wow!”

“I feel like that scandalous Baby
Doe Tabor the tour guide told us about today. Didn’t she say her husband bought
her a diamond necklace purportedly owned by Queen Isabella of Spain?”

“Baby Doe Tabor could not hold a
candle to you.” He lifted his wine glass and spoke solemnly. “To us, darling.”

She clicked her water glass
against his wine goblet. “To us.”

After they toasted, he leaned
close and whispered, “I can’t wait to get you alone and see you with nothing on
but those diamonds.”

His words so rattled her that when
she tried to set down her glass, she tipped it over. Mark only laughed wickedly
and called for the waiter.

***

When they arrived back in their
room, Courtney was charmed to see that a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket
awaited them on the coffee table in the alcove. Mark caught her hand. “Come on,
darling, let’s go look at the stars.”

His husky tone rattled her pulse,
telling her that the stars would no doubt be given short shrift tonight. “Mark,
you’re tempting me with champagne. And after I was so good, not having wine at
dinner.”

“I believe the bottle is a gift
from our hostess,” he explained. “Tell you what—I’ll pour myself a glassful,
and why don’t you steal just a sip or two?”

“Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

They sat side-by-side in the cozy
alcove, sipping from Mark’s glass and gazing out at the beautiful starlit
mountain pass. After a moment Mark set down the glass and turned to Courtney.
The intense look in his eyes made clear his intentions and only further
inflamed her wayward senses. He leaned over, taking her lips in a teasing,
fluttering kiss, until, with a moan, she threw her arms around his neck and
kissed him back hungrily. Meanwhile his hands caught the hem of her sweater and
began pulling it upward. He pulled the sweater over her head, then ran his
fingertips over her bare arm. “My God, your skin is like satin.” He kissed her
shoulder, and touched the solitaire dangling between her breasts. “I told you I
wanted to see you with only the diamonds on.” He reached for the clasp on her
bra. “You’re not cold, are you, darling?”

“I—I could be,” she managed.

“I won’t allow it.” He undid her
bra and caught her bare breasts in his hands, kneading them gently. “How’s that?”

Feeling his wonderful hands on her
flesh, Courtney was no longer cold but hot.
Very hot
.

He pushed her down, and as his hot
mouth sucked her aching nipple, she cried out.

She heard his grunt of
satisfaction. “I’m going to undress you now.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Do I
need to ask?”

Clearly he didn’t, for Courtney
was way beyond resisting as he removed her bra, then unzipped her slacks,
pulling them off, followed by her panties. By now, Courtney was panting,
covered with gooseflesh. Already heat pulsated inside her just at the thought
of him touching her intimately.

He gazed down at her naked body,
the winking diamonds. “My God, you’re lovely.” His hand slid between her
thighs, opening them, his finger stroking the nest of curls between.

Courtney writhed, the aching need
pushing harder, deeper, throbbing insistently. “Mark . . . my heaven.”

“I want to show you just how much
I missed you,” he rasped.

“I think you’ve already done
that.”

“Hastily, yes. But not like this.”

He was right. Not like this. Tears
burned Courtney’s eyes when Mark leaned over and kissed her there. The need
inside her grew explosive, sweetly unbearable.

“Look at the stars, darling,” he
directed.

She did, gazing at the glorious
heavens while Mark’s lips worked their potent magic, kissing, caressing. When
his tongue began to explore, touching her deeply and boldly, she cried out
ecstatically, and his hands grabbed her hips to hold her still.

“Mark, it’s so beautiful.”

“Indeed.” He lingered a long
moment, than at last smoothly slid up her body. He entered her slowly,
exquisitely, smiling at her sounds of raw joy. “Are you looking at the stars?”

“No, at you,” she sobbed back.
“Always at you.”

His mouth ravenously took hers and
his strokes quickened. She caught him closer and dug her fingernails into his
spine, pleasure inundating her again and again as her body urged him home . . .

***

For a long time afterward, he
cradled her in his arms and kissed her. Feeling deeply moved and wanting to
give him the same pleasure he’d given her, she leaned over and took him in her
mouth. She gloried at the feel of him, hard and pulsing, and flicked her tongue
over him. He groaned and pleaded but she was merciless. At last he brought her
astride him, plunged into her hot body, and climaxed quickly inside her.
Afterward he wouldn’t let her go and they rocked there, adrift in mindless
passion, for hours . . .

**

Finally, late the next morning,
they had their talk. They hiked halfway up a mountain and sat on boulders
looking down at the town. The morning was sweet and cool, a hawk circling in
the clear skies.

Courtney noted the look of tense
preoccupation on Mark’s face. There was so much that was good between them, so
much emotion and passion. But there were also the problems—partly practical,
partly much more personal.

“Okay, Mark,” she said at last.
“We’ve postponed this long enough. Let’s talk.”

He sighed. “I suppose you’re
right. I guess I’ve avoided this because . . .”

“It could threaten us?”

His nod was sober. “Yes. I mean, I
hope it won’t. But yes.”

“I know. Go on. Be frank.”

He picked up a twig and aimlessly
toyed with it. “Courtney, I just don’t see how we can make it without some
changes. I’ve neglected my responsibilities in London, and don’t think I can
continue doing so. You’re loaded up with work here. With our baby on the way .
. . something has to give.”