The Pregnancy Contract (4 page)

She looked at the underwear she'd taken from the drawer. An exquisite shell pink, the matching bra and panties were a brand she'd never bought before, even though they were all in the size she'd worn before she went away. She slipped into
the panties, thankful that at least they fit without threatening to fall off her hips, then adjusted the straps on the bra and started to put it on.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She'd lost weight in recent years. Hard work and a limited diet had a way of doing that. The bra, while beautiful, was far too big for her, even on the tightest fitting. She could pad it up, she supposed, but then what if something slid free while she was wearing it? No, far better to go without, she decided and turned to her old wardrobe for something to wear.

A swimming sense of déjà vu enveloped her as she opened the doors. There, arranged by color and functionality, hung every article of clothing she'd failed to pack and take away with her. According to the dry cleaning tags on the garments, everything had been freshened recently. But why, when no one knew when she was coming home?

Piper selected the least flippant items and pulled on a pair of charcoal gray trousers with a neat matching jacket that used to nip in perfectly at her waist. Eight years ago, it had been form-fitting enough to wear without a top beneath it, but it certainly wasn't now. She flicked through the hangers until she found a crisp white blouse to team with it.

An old belt threaded through the loops in her trousers cinched them in a little tighter at her waist, and when Piper pulled on the jacket and studied her appearance, she thought she'd scrubbed up quite well—aside from the hair. She grabbed a black and white long silk scarf from her dresser and tied her dreads into an approximation of a ponytail before nodding at her reflection. Well enough to see the lawyer, anyway.

Her feet had always been long and narrow and she pulled on a pair of stocking socks before pushing her feet into a slim fitting pair of black patent pumps. No longer used to the heels, she teetered a little before regaining her composure.
How had she ever walked in these things on a daily basis? she wondered as she made her way down the stairs.

Wade wasn't in the breakfast room, nor the kitchen, when she got downstairs.

“Looking for Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Dexter said with a smile as she bustled about pouring a fresh cup of tea and placing it at Piper's old place at the huge worn kitchen table.

“Yes, we have an appointment together this morning.”

“He had to get away early to the office. Some problem or other. He said if he couldn't get back on time, he'd send a car for you so you could still meet with Mr. Chadwick in his rooms.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Piper fought back the unreasonable feeling of disappointment that he wasn't here. He had a business to run so she could hardly expect him to wait upon her hand and foot. Strangely, though, she had been looking forward to his approval that she'd made an effort to “scrub up,” for want of a better term. Which reminded her. Her clothes.

“Dexie, can you tell me what you did with my clothing from my backpack?”

“Oh, that lot.” Mrs. Dexter wrinkled up her nose in her rosy cheeked face. “I gave it all to Dexter to incinerate. Your father would never have stood for you dressing like that.”

Piper bit back the retort that her father hadn't had the right to dictate her appearance for many years now. Swallowing the words she'd wanted to say didn't come easy. Those items of clothing were virtually all she'd had to her name in the way of physical possessions. She'd come back here to take control of her life and yet, even in something as simple as her clothing, she'd been railroaded.

“Besides,” the older woman continued, “you have a wardrobe full of beautiful things to wear. I must say, lovey, it's wonderful to see you looking more your old self. Apart from the hair, that is.”

A wry smile formed at Piper's lips. “You don't like it?” she teased.

“Humph, as if Mr. Mitchell would ever have tolerated such a thing.”

Piper's smile died on her face. No, her father wouldn't have tolerated it. He wouldn't have understood the sheer practicality of wearing her hair this way in the circumstances in which she'd lived. Now she was home she supposed she'd better do something about it, but first there was the appointment today to get through.

 

“Get through” being the operative words, she realized later that day as her father's lawyer sat opposite her at his highly polished desk, a sobering expression on his face.

“What do you mean I have no money?” she demanded. “When I left, my trust fund was healthy. It had been operating since my mother's death, earning interest all the way. Surely I didn't spend it all?”

“No, Miss Mitchell, you didn't. But you didn't exactly use the funds wisely, or reinvest, either, did you?”

It felt as if she'd been victimized from the instant she'd arrived home. First Wade, then Dexie's disapproval, and now this.

“They were mine to use,” she said, a defensive note in her voice.

“Of course, of course.” The old man made a shushing sound in a vain attempt to placate her.

But Piper would not be placated.

“So where is it?”

“It?”

“The money,” she clarified, holding onto her temper by a thread.

“You know that with your father as a Trustee, the funds were managed very carefully. Over the years he frequently diversified the investments, but as you must be aware, fi
nancial markets worldwide have been hit very hard. Even investments that appeared to be sound suffered, and you subsequently lost some rather large sums.”

Piper shook her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her father had always been the most prudent and cautious of investors.

“So, I have nothing?”

“I'm so very sorry.”

“But what about my father's estate?”

“Miss Mitchell, what your father didn't use to carry Mitchell Exports through some tough times, he used to fund alternative treatments for his illness. There really is very little left. The investment losses your fund endured hit him, also.”

Everything Wade had told her last night had been true. She wished she could blame him, hold him responsible for her father's weak financial position at the time of his death, but it was clear Wade had conducted himself the same way he always had. With honor and loyalty to the man he revered above all others.

Mr. Chadwick continued, completely unaware of the turmoil in her mind. “I must say that Mr. Collins has been most benevolent. When he realized the situation your father was facing he personally acted to assist him. Rex was fortunate that Mr. Collins was compassionate enough to give him a lifetime right to reside in the house.”

The sick taste of bile rose in Piper's throat.

Piper swallowed. “And my mother's art collection? That should have been left to me in my father's will. What has happened to that?”

At least if she had that, all was not lost. As much as she hated the idea of selling a single piece, she'd be able to liquidate some funds.

“All with Mr. Collins now. I understand the collection is on loan to the Sydney Art Gallery at the moment.”

“But it wasn't my father's to give. It was supposed to be mine.”

She fought to keep the panic from her voice. Without the collection, she really had nothing.

“Under the terms of your mother's will, it was your father's to dispose of at his discretion. While she stipulated her preference that it be given to you when you reached your majority, it was still left to your father to decide in the end. Some years ago, he mentioned to me that he had some concerns that you might feel compelled to break the collection up and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. Moreover, he wanted to be certain you were settled before entrusting it to you. In all fairness to your father, he honestly expected your trust fund to support you for your lifetime. Hardly anyone foresaw the long-term ramifications of the global financial crisis until it was too late.”

Piper slumped in the chair. Her life couldn't get any worse, could it?

“There is one other thing,” the lawyer said carefully, making all the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Piper sat up. She didn't like the way he'd prefaced what was coming next. There was something in his posture and tone that warned her that what she'd learned already was small-fry compared to what was coming next.

“Tell me,” she demanded. She may as well get it straight on the chin now.

“Your trust fund. With your withdrawals and the depreciation of the investments' value over time, it became overdrawn. Mr. Collins had taken charge of your father's affairs by that point, and personally advanced money to the fund to cover the shortfall when he was made aware of the situation.”

“Just how much money did he advance?”

The lawyer named a sum that caused black spots to swim before her eyes.

“So you're saying he advanced several hundred thousand dollars to my trust fund?”

Wade
had been the one responsible for the money she'd used to finance schools and health clinics, food and clothing and farm supplies in the counties she'd visited in the past four years? She was struck with an urgent need to understand the conditions of the loan and expressed as much to Mr. Chadwick.

“The loans were rather open-ended. As your trustee, your father entered into deeds acknowledging the debt between the fund and Mr. Collins. Obviously Mr. Collins has the right to recall those loans, with interest, at any time.”

“So no repayments have been made to date?”

“None, Mr. Collins hadn't requested such repayment.”

“Not at all?”

She was confused. How could anyone afford to make such huge sums of money available like that and not expect something back in return?

“No, not at all.” Chadwick hesitated a moment, his mouth twisting into a moue of regret. “Until now.”

“Now?” she gasped. “He wants me to repay the debt now?”

“Yes, Miss Mitchell, I'm afraid so. And he has specified it must be repaid in full.”

I
n full? Piper vibrated with ill-concealed anger, earning a look of concern from the elderly man across the table from her. No wonder Wade had arranged to not be at the appointment with her, the rat.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say through gritted teeth. “Could you tell me exactly
when
Wade Collins made that specification?”

“We received his instruction this morning.”

This morning?
It was unbelievable. While she'd been sleeping in, or even while she'd been lazing about in her bath, he'd been demanding she clear a debt he knew full well she had no ability to repay.

Forcing a smile on her face, she stood and offered her hand to the man who'd been her father's longtime legal counsel.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Mitchell?”

“Short of conducting a miracle, I doubt it.”

She kept her composure until she got outside the office and saw the car Wade had ordered for her waiting in the loading
zone outside. Every instinct within her urged her to turn in the opposite direction and to keep walking. To put as much distance as possible between herself and the awful truth about her financial position. But where would she go?

The driver of the car got out and came around to the passenger side, opening the door for Piper and waiting until she'd settled herself in the soft leather. The drive back to the house passed in a blur. She couldn't have said whether they'd taken one route or another but when they drove into the long driveway that led to the imposing stairs and entrance to the house, Piper found her eyes locked on the building she'd grown up in.

The immaculate white painted woodwork, the wraparound verandas on the ground and next story, the green-capped pinnacles that marked the four corners of what had begun as a two-story farmhouse. She'd taken every part of it for granted. Its history, its shelter, its place in her life.

She had thought she'd changed, but she hadn't changed at all. Even without a home to call her own, she'd still assumed she had the money to make a new one. But now she didn't have even that. And all because she'd been so stupidly presumptuous as to believe her security would never end.

So what now? She didn't even appear to own the clothes on her back, and Dexter had destroyed what little she had owned.

Piper slowly moved up the stairs and let herself in through the front door. She started as a tall shadow materialized from the formal parlor on her left.

“Wade,” she said. “I wasn't expecting you here.”

“I managed to clear things up at the office earlier than I'd anticipated.”

Her eyes raked his face for any sign of the man who'd deliberately advanced money to her only to recall it when he knew she was at her lowest ebb. Just how long had he been prepared to go on making money available to her? she
wondered. If she hadn't come back when she did, how much would she have ended up owing him?

It didn't make sense. She had no way of paying him back. Why would he want to have such a hold over her when it was outside the realm of possibility that she'd ever earn enough money to settle the debt?

“Is that right?” she replied, fighting to keep her voice level when all she wanted to do was bombard him with angry questions.

“I take it the news at the lawyer's wasn't good?”

“You take it correctly.”

“We should talk.”

“No kidding,” she said with an insolence she was incapable of hiding.

Wade gestured for her to precede him into the parlor and waited until she was seated before he lowered his body into one of the fabric-covered armchairs. The blowsy cabbage rose pattern on the chair was at complete odds with his controlled appearance. Not a hair was out of place on his head. His striped tie, a perfect match to the steel gray of his suit, was immaculately knotted at the equally immaculate fold of the collar of the white shirt he wore. He was altogether formidable, and he knew it.

Piper decided to take the bull by the horns.

“It would appear I owe you some money,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his squarely. There was no way she would show him that she was quaking inside.

To her surprise, Wade laughed. His even white teeth flashed in his face, his eyes crinkled in genuine mirth and the sound, a deep belly laugh that in any other circumstance would have been infectious, rang out to fill the room.

“I have to hand it to you, Piper. You're the mistress of understatement today.”

She refused to be drawn to respond. He could think what he liked. He knew, as well as she did, that he held all the
cards very firmly in those beautiful hands of his. While he composed himself she waited patiently for the bullet to come.

“Mr. Chadwick made you aware of the sum of money you owe me,” he finally said, his voice no longer holding any hint of the humor that had just consumed him.

“He did.”

“And he made you aware that the debt has been recalled.”

“With interest, no less,” she said, aiming for flippancy.

Maybe if she could make him angry she'd feel anything but the numbness that had pervaded her entire body since she'd heard the news.

“No less,” he agreed.

He sat back in his chair and rested his hands on the arms of it, his rangy body relaxed even though his eyes were sharply focused on her face.

“I need time,” she stated flatly.

“Is that a fact?”

“Of course it's a fact,” she snapped, rising to his bait in spite of her best intentions. “I need time to find a job, get established. It's completely unreasonable of you to insist on repayment in full when I have no means to meet that commitment.”

“Yes, indeed. Thing is—” he paused and flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his trouser leg “—I don't feel particularly reasonable right now.”

A chill ran down Piper's spine. “You don't?”

“No, I don't. You never finished university, despite every opportunity to do so. You never sought gainful employment while in New Zealand. And if your current lack of funds is any indication, I'd say you've never actually worked a day in your life. Why should I believe that you could find a job now? The employment market is tough, Piper. Tougher now than it ever was. Even the local supermarkets have had more than two and a half thousand applicants for each of the new stores that have opened recently. What makes you think you're
better than all those skilled, and unskilled, workers desperate to find a job?”

“I never said I was better than anyone else.”

“No, you didn't. At least not recently, anyway.”

Piper felt hot color flood her cheeks. She remembered exactly what he referred to. She'd been an utter bitch to him when he'd refused to drop his internship with her father and travel with her overseas. She'd wanted him to prove that he loved her—that she mattered to him more than her father and his own future. When he'd refused, she'd said things that didn't deserve remembering, let alone repeating. That he hadn't forgotten them was quite clear.

“I'm sorry for all that, Wade. I really am. I was young, headstrong and entirely stupid. I couldn't see past what I wanted back then.”

“And you've changed so much now?”

 

Wade watched her carefully. He didn't believe she'd changed a bit. Not where it mattered. She could have swallowed her pride years ago. Come home before choosing to terminate the pregnancy that was the lingering proof of the love he'd thought they'd shared. But, no. She'd destroyed his son or daughter as callously as she'd cast away everything in their relationship. And she hadn't even bothered to contact him—then, or in the eight years that had followed.

“I have changed,” she insisted, the color in her cheeks rising. The sound of her voice becoming even more impassioned. “I used that money for good purpose.”

“All of it?”

“No, not all of it. I was an idiot when I left here. I had some serious growing up to do, but I did grow up. I have changed.”

“Admitting your faults all sounds very impressive, Piper, but again, none of it solves your current problem, does it?”

“I just need time.”

“Time isn't an option.” He put up a hand before she could
protest. “I do, however, have an alternative for you. A suggestion that takes into account your lack of credible work experience and probably accommodates the one thing I
do
know you're good at.”

She leaned forward on her seat, clearly eager to hear what he had to say. He doubted she'd be as eager once she knew what he had planned for her.

“What sort of alternative?”

“I worked hard for your father over the years. And with your father gone, my workload has doubled at Mitchell Exports.

“As a result, I have neither the time, nor the inclination, to devote to a relationship with the type of woman I may want as a wife. Settling down just isn't possible for me right now. But I do have one thing, above all else, that I wish for.

“I've accumulated quite a legacy of my own, now, and it'll be all for nothing unless there is someone special in my life to leave it to. You know about how my mother died when I was ten and how my father refused to support me. You know how determined that made me to have children who will receive all my love and protection. I want to be the kind of father Rex was to you. When you were a toddler and your mother died he never let you go. It would have been far easier for him to have done so. Yet, no matter what, he always provided for you—sometimes too much.”

“Our circumstances are completely different, Wade. Sure, Dad supported me, but not in all the ways that really mattered to
me.
I had to fight for his attention.”

“He wasn't always the easiest of men to impress, but he never stopped loving you, Piper. Never. Have you stopped to wonder why your room was still exactly the same as you left it? Why you have new clothing in your drawers and why the things in your wardrobe have been regularly dry cleaned for when you eventually returned home? Keeping everything in readiness for you was probably the only way he knew to
show you how much you meant to him. But you never came home.”

Wade sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “We're diverting from my point. What I wanted to say is that family is
everything
to me. I want to have a child to make all this hard work worthwhile. Someone I can leave my legacy to.”

To his surprise Piper shot to her feet, coming to stand a bare meter from him.

“And I suppose this legacy includes all those things that were supposed to be mine. Things like my mother's art collection?”

“Things I have legitimate bills of sale for, yes.”

“Where do I come into all of this?”

He remained silent, waiting for the penny to drop. It didn't take long.

“You want me to have your baby?” she cried, staggering back as if she'd sustained a physical blow.

“You're rejecting my suggestion?”

“Damn right I'm rejecting it.”

“It's not what I'd call an ideal situation but I'm prepared to waive the considerable debt you owe me, if you give me a child.”

He stood and closed the distance between them. A pulse fluttered frantically in her throat and her breath came in short bursts. Beneath her jacket he could see the unfettered rise and fall of her breasts against the fine linen of her blouse. A rush of heat swelled from deep within him.

He continued, “We're not completely repulsive to one another. It's not likely to be any hardship to do what needs to be done to meet your end of the deal.”

“You're talking about a baby! A living, breathing human being. Not just some pawn in a game of chess.”

“I know exactly what I'm talking about, Piper. The thing is, are you up for the challenge?”

Piper stared at him in horror. Did he have any idea what he
was asking of her? It was wrong on so many levels she could barely gather her wits. She wasn't ready to have a baby. Not now—maybe not ever. The word “no” echoed through her mind. In fact, it was on the tip of her tongue, ready to burst forth, when he spoke.

“I don't intend to be unreasonable about access to our son or daughter, Piper.”

“Access?” she said, feeling completely dense.

“I don't expect to restrict your interaction with our child.”

Oh, my God,
she thought.
He's acting as if this is a done deal. As if I've said yes already, or worse, as if I have absolutely no choice in the matter.

“Access won't be an issue,” she said flatly.

“I'm pleased to hear you're prepared to be reasonable about this.”

“I think you misunderstand me. Access won't be an issue because there won't
be
any access—there won't be any baby.”

Rather than argue with her, Wade surprised her with a smile. A smile that held not an ounce of humor in the curve of his beautiful lips and which didn't so much as light his piercing eyes with a spark of warmth. Instead, it gave his face the look of a predator. One well used to winning.

Piper took another step back from him and crossed her arms instinctively.

“What are you smiling about? You can't make me change my mind. What you're suggesting…it's ridiculous. No, it's more than ridiculous. It's impossible!”

“Impossible? I think not.” He hesitated a moment, his face settling into serious lines far more in keeping with the expression in his eyes. “Unless, of course, you're in a position to repay the money you owe me?”

His words hit her straight to her chest. Of course she wasn't able to repay him anything. She didn't even have enough money to stay in a hostel for a night. He had it all. Everything that had ever been hers and then some.

“You know damn well that I can't pay you back, you bastard. You have already taken everything that should have been mine.” She flung her arms out. “This—my home, my history—not to mention my mother's art collection. You already own all that. You even had my father!”