The Pregnancy Contract (8 page)

Even in the muted light he could see how she'd paled at his words.

“Business?”

“Yes, Piper,” he said, stepping closer to her. So close he could see moisture glisten on her lips where she'd nervously swiped them with her tongue. “The business of making a baby.”

She swallowed, dragging his attention from her lips to the long graceful sweep of her neck.

“Right. But we'll have to wait for the health check results to come back first, won't we?”

“Piper, seriously, if I didn't know you better I'd think you were nervous.”

She swallowed again. “No, I'm not nervous exactly. I was just thinking today that we hadn't really gone into the mechanics of how we were going to create this child.”

“Mechanics?” He smiled. “Well, it's been a while but I'm assuming people still do it the same way they have always done. You know—”

“So you don't want to go for artificial methods?” she interrupted.

Her voice had pitched even higher. She sounded a little scared. Such a change from the fearless girl he remembered. He was starting to feel bad about winding her up so much. It had always been so good between them, why would she be scared of that? Maybe she needed a reminder.

“Now, why would I want to do that, when we can enjoy this,” he replied.

He reached forward, cupping one hand at the back of her neck and drawing her toward him. He bent his head, catching
a glimpse of shock in her eyes before his lips captured hers. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, her lips parting on a gentle sigh. He deepened the kiss, pressing home his advantage and trying not to remember the last time he'd touched her like this. The last time he'd wanted her like this—with a force that threatened to consume him.

He swept his tongue along her lower lip before suckling it between his teeth, scraping softly on the tender membrane before releasing it again. Her body sank into his, the softness of her breasts crushing against his chest. The curve of her hips, her mound, aligning with his painfully hard erection. He craved her with a need he'd thought long suppressed. Wanted nothing more than to sweep the contents of his desk to the floor and to take her on that hard polished surface—to push up her nightgown over her waist and to sink between her glorious long legs, to her inner heat where he could lose himself, lose this overwhelming burning desire.

But, with a control borne of years of practice, he reined himself back, focused instead on nothing but their kiss, on inciting her to want him as much as he most definitely wanted her. Because when he took her to his bed, he wanted her to be a full and willing partner—physically at least. He would settle for nothing less.

P
iper struggled to gather her thoughts, but they spun out of reach until she could only feel. Wade's kiss was a mastery of seduction. His lips a tantalizing tease across her own. His tongue a hot wet rasp of torment. She wanted more than this, more than a kiss. She wanted to feel his mouth on her body—her breasts, her belly, lower.

She squeezed her thighs tightly together against the swell of longing that ached at her core and wrapped her arms around his neck so she could press even more firmly against his length. His body felt different from how he'd been before. More heavily muscled through his torso, his legs stronger. But one thing remained the same. She recognized the feel and shape of a specific part of him as if it were only yesterday.

She trailed one hand down his chest, to the waistband of his trousers where she fumbled with his leather belt, desperate to test the weight and size of him in her hand. To feel his silken hardness, skin to skin.

He groaned into her mouth as her fingers pushed past
the elastic of his briefs and brushed the head of his penis. His erection jumped against her palm before she closed her fingers around his width and stroked. She felt the shudder go through him, heard him groan again as he tore his mouth from hers and fastened it anew in the curve of her neck.

And then the firm grip of his hand was at her wrist, gently pulling her away from him. Pushing her away from him. She fought to control her breathing, to get some semblance of control over her wayward behavior. Her body felt heavy, lethargic—aching with longing.

Her reaction to him—to the feel, the taste, the sheer craving she had for him—made her realize something that she hadn't wanted to consider in a very long time. She still had feelings for him—very deep feelings. The thought was a sobering wake-up call. That Wade desired her, she had no doubt. She'd felt the throbbing heat of his passion in her own hand only seconds ago. But could she hope that his feelings for her would ever again be more than the disdain he'd so clearly expressed?

She took a step away from him on legs that felt about as substantial as threads of cotton. Piper looked up to Wade's face. The light from the desk lamp cast shadows across his features. For a split second she thought she'd glimpsed something there, something from when she knew she'd held his heart in her hands as he had held hers. Before she'd systematically destroyed everything they'd had between them without realizing how much she would ultimately hurt them both. But that glimpse gave her a tiny shred of hope. Maybe they could make this work. Maybe, just maybe, they could build something new out of the ashes of their old relationship.

“I think we've proved we won't have any trouble on the compatibility score, don't you?” he said.

And there it was, back in full Antarctic chill. That aloofness that told her that while she might be able to affect him
on a physical level, there was no way he was going to let her back inside on an emotional one.

She nodded, lost for a response.

“So there'll be no more talk about artificial conception?” he pressed.

She shook her head.

“Then I think you'd better get off to bed, don't you? You have a long day tomorrow at the office to look forward to.”

Finally, she found her tongue. “Will we travel in together?”

“No, I need to be in early. I'll leave the car for you if you like.”

“Or I could use Dad's,” she said.

“Rex's Daimler was sold last year. There's the hatchback the Dexters use but they'll probably be busy with it tomorrow. What's the matter, didn't you like driving the Porsche? I can easily book a driver to take me into work.”

She shook her head again. “That's not the point. What will everyone think if I turn up in your car? They'll assume the only reason I got a job there is because I'm sleeping with you.”

He gave her a piercing look. “And that bothers you, that people might think—” he reached a hand out to trace her cheekbone “—we're on intimate terms?”

She jerked her head back but it did nothing to stop the tingling awareness on her skin.

“Yes, it bothers me. I meant what I said about learning to work there from the ground up. I need to learn to stand on my own two feet. I don't want any dispensations just because of who I am.”

He chuckled but the sound lacked humor, and made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle in reaction.

“No dispensations like walking in off the street to a job even though you have no experience and no qualifications? Why does that not surprise me?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Go to bed, Piper. I'll make sure you have sufficient
means to get to work tomorrow. Means that ensure no one will think any the worse of you, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “Good night.”

“It's night all right,” she heard him mutter as she walked past him and out the door. “Not that there's anything good about it.”

 

Piper woke the next morning to the sound of Wade's car purring down the driveway. She stretched and rolled over to look at her clock. 6:00 a.m. He certainly wasn't kidding about heading to the office early. She rolled back into her previous position, seeking oblivion for perhaps another half hour, but the moment was gone. She couldn't get back to sleep. She was starting work today and the prospect thrilled and terrified her in equal proportions. What if she made a total fool of herself? What if everyone hated her when they found out she was Rex Mitchell's daughter? Would anyone still remember her or her reputation?

There were so many “what ifs” her head started to spin. She pushed aside her bed covers and flicked on the overhead light. Her eyes caught on the clothes she finally decided to wear for work. A plain pair of tailored navy trousers, teamed with a cream-colored blouse and a matching camisole underneath. She really needed to do something about getting some new bras, she thought. She couldn't go braless forever. She'd considered, again, the idea of padding up one of the bras in her drawer with tissue paper but had discarded it as quickly. She didn't want any other worries to occupy her mind while she started to learn the ropes of this next stage in her life.

Piper gathered her things and went through to her bathroom, a bubble of excitement beginning to form in her belly. She was starting work, paid employment, for the very first time in her life.

She stopped and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She'd changed so much since she had left here. Reinventing
herself several times over from capricious daughter to single party girl to tireless aid volunteer. Now she was on the cusp of reinventing herself again.

She found exactly what she was looking for in the bottom drawer of her bathroom vanity. The scissors weren't unwieldy, but they weren't exactly the compact fine-precision steel of a hairdresser's instrument, either. Well, they'd have to do, she thought as she reached behind her and grabbed a dreadlock firmly in one hand. A swell of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach as she positioned the scissors and closed her eyes. Snip. There it was. The first real step toward the new Piper Mitchell.

By the time she stepped in the shower cubicle of the bathroom, she already felt different. Lighter. She laughed out loud. Of course she felt lighter. At least five years' hair growth lay scattered on the bathroom tiles. She lifted a hand to her head, feeling the wisps of hair that now clouded in a pale golden halo. She'd have to get it professionally shaped once she had some money but for now it would have to do.

After her shower she blow-dried her hair, combing her fingers through the unaccustomed short lengths. For someone who'd had long hair all her life it felt drastically different. She didn't doubt she'd get used to it, though. There, she was done. She stepped back and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Piper eyed herself critically. The new hair was certainly different, she decided, the makeup not too bad, and the overall effect with her clothes gave her what she hoped was a smart professional finish. Going back into her bedroom she took another look at her clock. Good heavens! She'd spent the better part of an hour and a half getting ready, it was almost seven-thirty. She'd better hurry or she'd be late for her first day and she couldn't bear to see the censure or, no doubt, the satisfaction on Wade's face if she wasn't there by start of business at half past eight.

Mrs. Dexter was in the kitchen when she arrived downstairs.

“Oh, my, what have you done to your hair?” she cried.

“Do you like it?” Piper asked, putting up a hand to touch her hair.

“Well, it beats what you arrived home with. I imagine it'll grow out soon enough. You always did have lovely hair. By the way, you'll be needing a raincoat,” the woman remarked as she put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of a place setting on the kitchen table.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Piper said, picking up a fork and sampling a mouthful before Mrs. Dexter's words sank in. “A raincoat? Whatever for?”

Mrs. Dexter pointed to a couple sheets of paper and a stack of coins on the table next to Piper's place setting. Piper slid the note out from under the coins. It didn't take long to read.

Piper almost laughed. The bus? Did he really think she'd shy away from catching the bus? Mrs. Dexter did, too, by the look of her. They had no way of knowing she'd traveled on far worse than Auckland's transport system. She carefully put the note on the table and lifted the timetable. She'd really have to hurry if she was going to reach the office on time. With little care for finesse, Piper shoveled down the last of the eggs and swiftly drank the coffee Mrs. Dexter had poured for her.

She rose from the table and put her dirty dishes in the sink then gave the older woman a smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Dexie. I've got to go.”

“Are you sure you'll be all right catching the bus?”

“I'll be fine, don't worry about me.”

“You'll find a coat in the hall cupboard, and an umbrella.”

“Perfect, thank you!” Piper cried as she raced upstairs to brush her teeth before leaving.

She knew what Wade was up to and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of beating her down. Not now, not ever. She might have agreed to have his baby but there was no way he was going to call all her shots.

 

Wade walked to the reception area on the dot of eight-thirty.

“Any sign of Miss Mitchell?” he asked the receptionist.

“Oh, yes, sir. She's been here for ten minutes. Jane is showing her around, as you asked.”

She was early? He hadn't expected that. No, to be completely honest, what he'd expected was a tantrum over the phone that he'd expected her to take public transport. The Piper he'd known would never have dreamed of such a thing. Still, he probably hadn't given enough consideration to the steel vein of stubbornness that ran down her spine.

“Thanks, I'll go find them.”

“They're probably in accounts,” the receptionist offered far too cheerfully.

Wade tried to keep his bewilderment in check as he headed toward the accounts department. He'd wanted Piper to start there, as a junior. If anything would break her ridiculous desire to work here, that would. He had no doubt she'd never so much as balanced a checkbook. Invoicing would definitely be her undoing. At least, he expected so.

He heard laughter as he walked down the corridor, not an uncommon sound in his workplace—he prided himself on the atmosphere he and Rex had built here—but this was more than usual. He entered the accounts department and saw a crowd of staff around one desk.

At the computer terminal a young woman sat with her back to him. Who, he wondered, before his body instinctively
recognized what his own eyes had not. Piper. A very different Piper than the one he had kissed last night. What had she done to her hair? It had transformed into a short choppy multilayered cut. Far shorter than he'd ever seen her wear before. It emphasized the slenderness of her neck and the delicate line of her throat.

The laughter and bonhomie he'd heard suddenly fell silent. Piper looked over her shoulder from what she'd been doing. Her eyes locked onto him for a startled moment before dropping. He had the brief satisfaction of seeing a flush rise in her cheeks before she turned away.

“Everything under control?” he asked, irked to feel as if he was an intruder in his own firm.

“We're doing fine.” Jane separated herself from the group and gave him a smile. “I think Piper will fit in extremely well here.”

“That's good,” he said, feeling completely the opposite. He looked around at the assembled group of staff. “But does it really take all of you to train her?”

One by one people muttered something and peeled back to their work stations, leaving just Piper and Jane with him. Jane gave him a speculative look. She'd worked here at Mitchell Exports the past five years and knew him well. She'd certainly never seen him speak to his staff like that before. The knowledge he was behaving unreasonably made him even more irritated.

“I'm glad to see you managed to get in on time, Piper,” he said, gleaning a kernel of satisfaction as he saw her ears turn a little pink as his comment sank in.

“Did you think I might have a problem—” she hesitated a moment before adding “—sir?”

Well, that was telling him, wasn't it? He acknowledged her barb with a small, grim smile.

“Proof will be in your consistency, and your performance. It's not a popularity contest, you know.”

“I'm aware of that, sir.”

“And we don't stand on ceremony here, Piper. Just call me Wade.”

She smiled back at him. The silence stretched out between them, with Jane standing at his side looking from one to the other as if she was at a tennis match.