The Soldier's Baby Bargain (11 page)

“Thank you. I
will
wear it in my hair. You got the color exactly. Give me just a second,” she said, beaming at him before she hurried to the bathroom to find a pin to affix the orchid.

He couldn’t have chosen better. The champagne-colored bloom looked lovely next to her dark hair. She removed the necklace she’d put on, allowing the flower to be her only accent besides a small pair of diamond studs in her ears.

His eyes seemed to glow when she joined him a second later.

“You’re right. It is perfect,” he said, smiling. He dipped his dark head and kissed her on the mouth, brief and electric.

Her breathing didn’t return to normal until they were seated in the car and halfway to the Lake View restaurant.

“I hope you won’t be too bored,” Faith said worriedly when he pulled into the packed parking lot. “As the Alliance president I’ll have to speak, and I’m responsible for the silent auction. The auction and cocktail party starts at six-thirty, and the dinner will follow. A couple of people from the board will be helping me do some last-minute things, so—”

“I’ll be fine. You just do whatever you have to do,” Ryan assured. She glanced over at his profile, sensing his calm confidence, and realized that of course he’d be fine. He was nothing if not self-sufficient.

She was aware of him all evening, despite the fact that she put considerable effort into socializing with all the guests during the combined cocktail hour and silent auction. He was at least a head taller than most of the attendees at the fundraiser, so it was easy to spot him above the crowd. He did, indeed, appear to be comfortable, meeting and chatting with strangers. Once she observed him talking to Sheila Maxwell, a local attorney. They made quite a striking pair standing next to each other, sipping their drinks, chatting and laughing. Jealousy made an unwanted appearance, swelling in her belly. It ducked its ugly head when she noticed that Ryan spoke just as long, and just as animatedly, to Mortimer Cohen, a wealthy octogenarian, as he had the statuesque Sheila.

She lost sight of him when the lights dimmed in the large dining room in order to show the brief film about the charitable work of the Animal Advocate Alliance.

“Those are your hands holding that dog. I’d recognize them anywhere,” a deep voice said quietly in her right ear.

Faith turned around and saw Ryan’s shadowed face just over her right shoulder. She smiled.

“You’re amazing. I hadn’t realized there was anything singular about my hands,” she said, referring to the video that detailed the experience of one homeless dog from when it’d been taken in by the Alliance to when it had eventually been adopted by a family. Faith was shown in the video giving the canine a medical exam and providing its shots, although her face didn’t appear on camera.

“I recognized your touch.”

She blinked at having those sweet, intimate words murmured in her ear. She struggled to recover.

“Are you having an okay time?” she whispered.

“Yes. And I happen to know from mingling with your guests that you’ve got a ton of donations coming your way. I’m hoping the night will be a big success,” he said quietly near her ear.

She craned her head around, trying to see him better in the shadowed room. “Thank you, Ryan.”

She just made out his small smile and the gleam in his eyes before the video presentation ended and the lights came back up. Reluctantly Faith excused herself to call everyone to dinner and give her speech.

Afterward she sat down next to Ryan at the head table and gave a sigh of relief.

“It’s finished. The hard part is over,” she whispered, since another committee member now spoke at the podium.

“Congratulations for a job well done,” he said quietly. She gratefully accepted the glass of ice water Ryan handed her. “I’d make it champagne, but under the circumstances...” He faded off, glancing down over her stomach.

“Water is just perfect,” she said, sharing a smile with him.

After they’d finished their meal, a four-man band began to play music and couples moved onto the dance floor.

“What do you think? Are you too wiped out to dance?” Ryan asked, nodding toward the dance floor, which was situated directly in front of floor-to-ceiling windows and an outdoor terrace that overlooked the lake and the setting sun.

“I’d love to,” Faith said.

She took his hand and they joined several other couples on the floor. He took her into his arms and they might have been the only people alive on the planet.

“Another gorgeous sunset,” he murmured, even though his stare was on her face, not on the brilliant palette of streaking color in the western sky.

“Yes. It’s nice. For the fundraiser, I mean,” Faith breathed. “You’re pretty light on your feet for a flyboy.”

“You’re not a bad dancer yourself, for a C-minus gym student,” he replied, his mouth twitching in a grin. She laughed. He pulled her closer, sealing their fronts together, her breasts pressing against his ribs. His nostrils flared slightly as he looked down at her. She couldn’t pull her gaze off him.

“Remember the other day, when you said that an adrenaline rush wasn’t your main reason for becoming a pilot?” she asked. He nodded. “What
was
the primary reason, then?”

He studied her face silently for a moment before he responded.

“It’s kind of hard to put into words,” he said eventually.

“Try me.”

“Okay. The first time I ever flew in a plane, it was on a commercial airliner to Hawaii with my family. I was seven. I’ll never forget it—the brute force of the plane lifting me, looking out the window and seeing an entire new world. It didn’t hit me immediately that my mom and dad and sister weren’t as blown away by the whole thing as I was. For me it was like a religious experience or something. I just
knew
I was meant to be up there.”

Faith stared at him for a moment, touched by the force of his conviction.

“Do you miss it a lot? When you’re...you know. On the ground?”

“Since I entered the academy, I was usually never on the ground long enough to go through withdrawal.”

“I’d like to see you fly,” she said. “I’d like to see you in your element.”

“Name the day,” he said quietly. She felt him studying her as she looked out at the radiant sunset as they slowly spun on the dance floor.

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

“What?” she asked, puzzled.

“That I love flying so much.”

“Of course not. It’s wonderful that you’re so passionate about your job.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “You’re not being entirely honest. You associate a love of flying with an impermanent character.”

She dropped her chin, looking sightlessly at his immaculate white shirt.

“Faith?”

“Yes?” she asked with false cheerfulness.

“Look at me,” he said.

She slowly lifted her head and met his stare. It annoyed her that she found the topic so charged. What did it matter to her that Ryan had a passion for the freedom of the open skies?

“Maybe the reason I always got so homesick when I wasn’t flying was that I never really had a permanent home after my parents died. I lived all over the globe in my years in the military. A plane became my refuge. That doesn’t mean I can’t eventually find a refuge somewhere else someday.”

“On the ground?” She glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows again, not wanting him to see the doubt in her yes.

“Yeah. On the ground. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving to fly, but it’s possible to feel at home in more than one place, isn’t it?”

She put on a brave face and nodded. “Of course it is.”

She was glad when the music came to an end. She had a feeling from Ryan’s narrowed gaze that he didn’t really believe her convicted tone. He tugged on her hand when she started to return to their seats at the table.

“Let’s get your wrap and step onto the terrace for a moment,” he said.

“Okay,” Faith replied. Her heart started to do a drumroll on her breastbone as he led her out onto the empty terrace. The sun had sunk completely into Lake Michigan at this point, leaving a lingering residue of pink, purple and gold streaks in the western sky.

“What is it, Ryan?” Faith asked when they faced one another next to the rail of the terrace and she saw how somber his expression was. A chilly lake breeze swept past them. Faith shivered and pulled her wrap closer around her. Before she suspected what he planned, Ryan took her into his arms. She stiffened at first, but then found herself melting against him. She sighed, pressing her cheek to his lapel. The fortress of his embrace felt wonderful—solid, warm and secure.

“There’s something important we need to talk about,” he said. She became distracted when she felt him press his mouth to the top of her head, kissing her.

“What?” she asked, something in his serious tone making her wary.

“We need to talk about the baby—its security, both legally and financially.”

Faith swallowed and lifted her head. She could just make out his stark features in the dim light from the restaurant.

“All right,” she said. “What about it?”

He reached up and gently removed a windblown curl from her cheek. She shivered, but not from cold, when he tucked it behind her ear and his fingers grazed her skin.

“The thing of it is, Faith,” he began, “given the circumstances, I think the right thing to do—the
only
thing to do—is for us to get married.”

Chapter Eight

F
rom her stunned expression of disbelief, Ryan realized it’d been the last thing she’d expected him to say. He felt himself sinking and forced himself to rally. He’d known this particular challenge wouldn’t be easy.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

“I’m dead serious. Think about it, Faith. If we marry, I’ll have a legal responsibility for the child, no matter what.”

Anxiety leaked into her expression. “You need it to be a
legal obligation
to be a father to the baby?”

“No. That’s not what I mean. Of course I’ll do my part no matter what. More—if you’ll let me. But my point is, the legal contract of marriage makes things easier all around. The baby will automatically become my dependent. There won’t be any hassles with the Air Force in regard to providing all the benefits that go along with the fact that I’m a veteran.”

He saw her brows pinch together in dubious consideration at that. He pushed on. “Think about it, Faith. You have your own business. You know how expensive buying your own health care is. If we’re married, you’ll have coverage not only for the baby forever, but for yourself, as well. During the delivery.”

She bit at her lower lip, looking bewildered.

“There’s not only the legal and financial considerations,” he continued. “I’d love to say that in this day and age, it doesn’t matter to a child whether his parents have ever been married or not, but I think we’d both agree that just isn’t the case.” When he saw the doubt and anxiety lingering on her face, he threw out his trump card. He hadn’t wanted to use it, but Faith wasn’t going to give him any choice in this.

“We can get a divorce after the baby is born, if you like,” he said. He forced himself not to grimace at the words.

He was desperate for Faith to accept him into her life. If he had to resort to partial measures in order to gain her compliance, he’d take what he could get. His only hope was that if she allowed him in partially, he could eventually coax her into accepting him completely. Faith clearly had doubts about his worthiness as a partner. Given her past with Jesse, he couldn’t say he blamed her.

He just needed a chance. An opportunity to prove himself, once and for all.

He slid his hand into his jacket pocket. Her eyes went huge when he opened up the ring box. The lights from the interior of the restaurant glittered in the center diamond brilliant and glowed like a subdued fire in emeralds surrounding the band.

“I hope you like it,” he said. “I chose the emeralds to match your eyes.”

She looked bowled over.

“Are you really that shocked?” he asked. “I would have thought you were at least partially expecting something like this. It’s not like I haven’t made it clear I have feelings for you.”

He instantly regretted saying that. A panicked look entered her expression.

“Ryan, you’re just saying that because of the circumstances. You’re under no obligation to do this.”

He shook his head and gave a small bark of laughter. “I don’t feel obligated, Faith. I
want
to do this.”

“For the baby, right?” she asked shakily.

“Right,” he said grimly. It wasn’t really a lie. He was partially doing this for the baby. The baby was his, after all.

The baby was
theirs.
As in, theirs
together.

He just needed to prove to Faith that
she
was his, as well. And just as he’d suspected, he thought as he studied her anxious face, it wasn’t going to be a simple challenge.

* * *

Faith stared at the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen and felt herself spinning. Her heart throbbed so loudly in her ears, she wondered if Ryan could hear it. He wanted her to marry again?

He wanted her to marry
him?

She stared up at him helplessly, the lovely ring winking in the dim light as if to coax her.

“Ryan...I don’t know what to say.”

“Think about it, then. You can give me your answer when you’re ready.” Despite her doubts, a sharp pain of disappointment went through her when he closed the ring box and slipped it back into his pocket. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer, so that her lower belly was flush against his groin and her breasts pressed against his ribs. “But there’s one thing I should make clear. I don’t want there to be any doubt how much I want you. I kept my attraction for you buried while you were married to Jesse. I wasn’t even aware of its magnitude until Christmas Eve. I’m not going to lie to myself about it anymore. And I’m not going to lie to you.”

He bent and covered her mouth with his. He felt her small, surprised gasp, sensed the heat behind her parted lips. Altering the angle of the kiss, he sought with his tongue, relishing her sweetness. Just one taste and he found himself hardening for her, the lash of desire striking sharp, stinging nerve and flesh. He felt her mouth soften beneath him. Triumph soared through him when her tongue began to duel shyly with his. He pulled her closer in his arms, deepening the already ravenous kiss. His hands settled on her hips. He palmed her hungrily, loving how her curves fit his hands.

He pushed her even closer against his body, groaning quietly when he felt her softness cradle his arousal. He wanted her again, with the strength and heat of a thousand suns. He didn’t think he could take much more of standing on the sidelines, ravenous and craving while Faith was just out of his reach.

He lifted his head, nipping at her lips.

“I want to make love to you again. I have every second...of every day...since that first time,” he said quietly between gentle, hungry kisses on her mouth. “Tell me that you want that, too.”

“I do,” she said breathlessly, returning his feverish kisses avidly.

Arousal raged in him at her admission. “Then let’s go. Would you like to come to my hotel room? Or would you prefer we go to your house?”

It took him a moment to realize she was no longer participating as eagerly in their kiss. He lifted his head and studied her face. The uncertainty he saw there sliced through his lust like a sharp blade. Perhaps she noticed his disappointment, because her tone sounded apologetic when she spoke.

“Ryan, if you want me to consider your proposal of marriage seriously, I don’t think we should cloud the picture by sleeping together.”

He pulled her closer next to his body, making sure she knew the profound effect she had on him. “It’s kind of hard to be completely rational when I want you so much,” he said. “Maybe we could think clearer if we just gave in to it?”

She gave him a suspicious look, and then laughed when she saw his small smile.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he muttered. He released her with extreme reluctance. She gathered her wrap around her and looked up at him solemnly.

“I want to think this over,” she explained. “It’s hard to do that when you’re...we’re...”

“I understand.” He sighed.

She bit her lip and stared out at the black lake. “I think I should probably go home. I have a lot to think about,” she said.

He ran his hand along her shawl-covered arm.

“I’ll be available. If you want to talk about the idea of marriage, just call me. But while you’re thinking things over, I should return to San Francisco. There’s a lot I need to do if I intend to move the charter airline business to Michigan.”

“Do you still plan to do that? Even if we don’t...marry?” she finished awkwardly.

He nodded. “I purchased the Cessna that was for sale at the airport, and I’ve arranged to rent space there for my planes and an office.”

“Really? You’ve been busy,” she said, sounding a little numb.

“I haven’t changed my mind about wanting to be near my son or daughter. I don’t think I could stand being that far away on a regular basis from my child.”
Or from you,
he finished privately. If he said that out loud, she’d run scared. He’d already witnessed how skittish she could become at the idea of them in a romantic relationship. For now his best bet would be to give her the space she needed to feel confident in her decision. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, wishing he could erase the doubt and fear on her face.

“Take your time. I’ll be here, whenever you need me,” Ryan said.

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling up at him. Something twisted in his gut when he saw tears shining in her eyes.

* * *

Two weeks later Faith took off work a little early and stopped by the grocery store. Tonight was a special night. She wanted to make a nice dinner and there were still some last-minute details at the house that needed completing.

At around six that evening she finished making the bed in the guest bedroom, taking extra time to fluff the pillows. Her heart raced with nervous anticipation. She’d already showered and dressed in a manner that she hoped looked nice without seeming like she
tried
to look nice. The steaks she planned to make on the grill were marinating and the green bean, grape and pasta salad was ready to serve.

She ran her hand across the pillowcase, trying to picture Ryan’s head resting there. It seemed surreal, but it was going to happen. Tonight. Ryan had already arrived in Holland. He would be at her house at any moment.

For a period of time—it would be
his
house, as well.

A week after the fundraiser ball, following a great deal of soul-searching, she’d called him in California and agreed to marry him. He’d taken another week to tidy up matters with his business and put his condo up for sale. In all that time Faith hadn’t seen him. She missed him more than she cared to admit, his absence feeling like a raw ache in her belly, which she continually told herself was a figment of her imagination or quite possibly indigestion from her pregnant state.

She’d made clear her requirements for the marriage, of course. It would be in name only. Ryan could live at her house until the divorce was final—in the spare bedroom. They would remain married until the baby was born, giving their child at least the basics of legitimacy. Faith wouldn’t have cared about such a thing; her baby would be loved to the ends of the earth, no matter what legal contract had been observed or not observed at the time of its birth. However she didn’t want to deprive her baby of any of the benefits of a “normal” childhood.

Whatever “normal” meant.

She now had an inkling of what Ryan had meant about the social stigma associated with having a child out of wedlock, as much as she wished she hadn’t gained knowledge of that particular prejudice. Her parents had been stunned and somewhat stiff when she’d informed them the day after the fundraiser that she was pregnant. When she’d called them back, and informed them that she planned to elope with Ryan—the father of her baby—they’d seemed somewhat mollified.

Faith knew her parents were utterly involved with each other, their friends and their social schedule. She wasn’t offended that they’d seemed relieved when she said Ryan and she planned to elope in a small, private ceremony, and that they wouldn’t be required to fly from their cozy condominium to Michigan. She routinely made excuses for her parents’ lackluster interest in her life, and had long ago accepted the fact that Bob and Myra Blackwell were more interested in each other and their social network than they’d ever been in their only daughter. Faith described them as “deliriously happy in their golden years,” for instance, while her friend Jane was known to dub them “self-involved excuses for parents.”

In all honesty Faith wasn’t much bothered by the idea that her parents couldn’t be roused from their routine to attend her wedding. Given the facade of the marriage, she’d prefer not to have too many witnesses to the event.

She stood next to the bed and glanced around Ryan’s new bedroom suite, anxious to make sure everything was neat and orderly. Her stomach seemed to leap into her chest cavity when she heard the brisk knock at her front door.

She opened her mouth to greet him when she opened the outer door, but nothing came out. He looked amazing to her. In the two weeks of his absence, his hair had grown a little bit. It now brushed his collar in the back and fell farther forward on his forehead. Along with a slight scruff on his lean jaw and the duffel bag flung casually over his shoulder, he appeared to be exactly what she’d subtly accused him of being in the past—a bad-boy, extremely sexy pilot with the promise of a new adventure gleaming in his eyes. Or maybe the reason her brain immediately leaped to “sex” had to do with the way his dark eyes trailed over her in a preylike perusal, as though he was calmly planning where he was going to take his first bite.

She cleared her throat and forced her ridiculous thoughts to scatter.

“Welcome back,” she said breathlessly. “Or should I say, welcome home.”

He grinned—a quick, brilliant flash of sex appeal.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping into the foyer when she waved her hand and stepped back.

“Did everything go okay with your arrival in Holland?” Faith asked as she led him to his bedroom, her chin twisted over her shoulder. She was having trouble pulling her stare off his rugged male glory and nearly passed the doorway to his room.

“Yeah, all went well. Both planes are snug in their new homes at the airport, and I dropped Scott off at his new apartment,” he said, referring to the other pilot for Eagle Air.

“So Scott is all settled?” Faith asked as they hovered outside the room.

“Yeah. He wants to thank you in person for all you’ve done in helping him. He liked the apartment a lot. I want to thank you, too, Faith, for looking at some places and sending him the apartment photos and the phone numbers for getting utilities connected and everything.”

“Mari took care of some things, as well,” she reminded him, flipping on the light and leading him into the room.

“I know. We’re thankful to both of you. I’m glad Scott decided to make the move with me. He’s too good of a pilot to lose. Besides, he’s as much of a workhorse as I am,” Ryan said distractedly, his gaze moving around the bedroom and finally landing on Faith.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” he said, sounding stunned.

“You...you like it, don’t you?” Faith asked, referring to the newly refurbished bedroom.