The Stud (5 page)

Spencer was quiet for a minute. When he spoke again, his tone was serious. "A baby might throw up all over your comforter. It might keep you up all night if it had a fever, make you sit in the doctor's office for hours the next day. It might cry every time you tried to put it back in its crib. How would you feel men?"

"Badly, if the baby was sick. Helpless, if there was nothing to do but wait out the bug. Certainly more than willing to hold the poor thing if that was the only relief it could get. "

"But why do you want that?" he asked, returning to his original question. "You have a perfectly orderly life. A baby will destroy orderly in a few short days, and it won't be restored for eighteen long years. Have you thought of that?"

"I have. "

"And you're still game?"

"I am. "

"Why?"

He sounded as though he was without a clue, legitimately puzzled about why she would willingly and knowingly wreak havoc with her life. He was challenging her, demanding that she make her case in a way that he could understand. She sensed that he was also looking for reasons why he should father a child.

After only the shortest pause this time, she said, "I guess the best way to explain it is to go chronologically. " Her gaze touched the scrolled picture frame on the dresser. The faces smiling from it made her heart catch. "It's been eight years since my parents' plane went down. I was twenty-seven when that happened, and over the next three years, I was too busy dealing with the immediate future to think of the distant one. Then I turned thirty. McCue's was healthy. I was relaxed at its helm. I had time to think about my parents' deaths and my own mortality, and it hit me that the McCue name would die with me. " As fate had it, she came from generations of single-child families. "I'm the last one left. If I die, McCue's will be sold. There's no one to pass it to. That's sad. "

"You could have a child who doesn't want a thing to do with McCue's. "

"True, but at least that child would have the proceeds from it to hopefully do something worthwhile with his or her life, and the thought of that gives me comfort. I don't want my family line to end with me.

After a moment, he said, "Okay. I can buy that For starters. "

"And that's all it was. Once I had the bug in my ear, I couldn't get it out. At first, it was just that idea of keeping the family line going, but then the physical part began. "

Her hair was in a ponytail high enough on her head to be out of the way when she slept. She wrapped her fingers around the band and drew them the length of dark waves to the ponytail's end. It was a gesture she had made hundreds of times in her life, usually when she was either deep in thought or nervous. She was a little of each just then.

"I'm listening, " Spencer said.

Her voice was softer. "I know. It's harder to explain this part. "

"Take your time. "

What she took was a deep breath. Time wouldn't help, not when she had always been self-conscious about intimate things, and certainly not when she kept thinking of him lying buck naked in bed. So she spit out the words with begrudging resignation. "I became aware of my body. I was made a certain way for certain reasons, and I wasn't fulfilling those reasons. "

"What do you mean?" he asked.

He was a virile man with a knowledge of sex that she couldn't begin to match. She assumed he was being purposely dense. "You know what I mean. "

"I want you to explain. "

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she focused on the driftwood sculpture she had bought in the Bahamas several years before. It reminded her of sun and sand, and was totally asexual. It took her mind off Spencer. "I have ovaries to create a child with, a uterus to carry a child in and breasts to put a child to. I haven't done any of those things. It's a waste, wouldn't you say?"

"That depends on what else you do with those things. Children aren't the only beneficiaries of breasts and ovaries. Men can be, too. "

She forgot about the driftwood sculpture as a tingle ran up her spine. She shifted her hip against the sheet and laid her hand lightly between her breasts. "Ovaries?" she asked weakly. "How do men benefit from ovaries?"

"Ovaries produce the hormones that make you different from me. They affect the way you look, the way you smell, the way you respond to me. "

She wasn't touching any of that. Thin ice wasn't something she skated on for long. She took a shaky breath. "Okay. Well. I was talking about my body in relation to having children, and when it comes to that, I'm feeling very unfulfilled. "

"Clearly you're unfulfilled when it comes to men, too. "

"Why do you say that?" she asked in a huff.

"Because you're all but dragging men off the street in a bid for sperm. "

She sat up straight. "I am not dragging men off the street. You are the only man I've asked, and I did that for specific reasons. Just because I don't know any other men whose genes I'd want doesn't mean I'm not
involved
with any men. "

"Are you?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Oh, but it is, " he said smoothly. "There are health issues involved, for one thing. You've told me you don't want a man around the house, but if you're hopping from one bachelor pad to another when you get the urge for sex, you could have picked up a disease. Me, I was using condoms long before it became the rage, because I didn't want to risk any unplanned pregnancies, but other guys may not be so careful. "

"I don't have any diseases. I'm healthy. I told you that. "

"Okay, then there's the issue of having men around this child you're proposing to have. I wouldn't like the idea of a child of mine having a stream of 'uncles' coming in and out of its life, any more than I'd like the idea of your leaving the kid with a sitter and running out for sex four or five nights a week. So are you sexually involved with any men at this time or not?"

"Not, " she said, because the issue of pride was nothing compared to the issue of having a child. If letting Spencer Smith know that her social life was lousy was a condition of his donating his sperm, she'd do it.

"When was the last time you were sexually involved with someone?"

She swallowed. "Three years ago. "

"Who was he?"

"A journalist from New York. I met him at a show in Paris. We were together there, then briefly when we got back. "

"And before him?"

She plucked at the sheet. "There was an accountant a few years before that. "

"A few?" he prodded.

"Four. We were together a month. " She pushed herself on, but angrily and feeling suddenly close to tears. Remembering past relationships made her feel empty. "Before him, there was a guy I met in business school, and that's it. Not exactly a history of wildness. Nothing resembling nymphomania. Nothing to corrupt a child with. If I picked up a disease, it would have already shown up. You can call my doctor, if you'd like. He'll testify that I'm clean. " She pressed a hand to her upper lip and held it there until the lip had stopped quivering. The effort preoccupied her, so much so that she didn't realize how quiet Spencer was until he finally spoke.

"That won't be necessary. I trust you. "

"Well, thank goodness for that"

"But I had a right to ask. "

It had hurt to list failed relationships that way, but he did have a point. She had put some of the very same questions to Caroline, who knew as much about Spencer's love life as anyone did. Spencer's comment about condoms confirmed what Caroline had already told her.

"So—" his voice came over the line more gently "—you want a baby, first, to carry on the McCue name, and second, to fulfill the maternal functions of your body. Is that it?"

"No, that's not
it.
I haven't mentioned the most important part" But she didn't immediately go on. She needed a minute to gather herself, to put the past aside and focus on the future, to ease the gruffness from her voice and be her well-balanced self.

When she remained silent, he asked softly, "Are you falling asleep on me?"

Fat chance,
she thought. "No. I'm organizing again. The next part has to do with emotions. It's the most important part. But I'm not sure where to begin. "

"Begin anywhere. I'll sort things out when you're done. "

She took a breath and, letting the rigidity out of her spine, slid her hand palm up into her lap. Taking him at his word, she began to toss out her thoughts. "I want to hold a baby and not have to give it back at the end of the day. I want to take care of a baby, to know what it likes to eat and how it likes to eat and what each little cry means. I want to love a baby and be loved back. I've watched Caroline raise her children—" she warmed at the image that came to mind "—and there's something heart-stopping when they're small and they throw their little arms around your neck and hold on for dear life. I want that. "

"They don't stay small for long, " Spencer pointed out.

"I know, and I know the saying that the bigger they get, the bigger their problems, but I can handle the problems. It's the love that's important. The outward demonstration of that love changes as they grow—it certainly did with my parents and me—but the love is always there. I want that. " She rushed on. "I want noise in this house and toys on these floors. I want a direction to my life beyond business. I want someone to buy clothes for and take to the movies and go to Disneyland with. I want someone to think about besides myself. I want someone to worry about. " She caught her breath and deliberately slowed. "That may sound obsessive to you, but, believe me, it isn't. Through it all, I'll still be a businesswoman. I love my work. I can make it take more or less of my time, but I won't ever let it go completely, and that means I won't be hung up when my child goes off to first grade or, even more, to college. I'll always have the business to keep things in balance. "

She was silent a moment before continuing. "But the business alone isn't enough. It was when my parents first died, when I was overwhelmed trying to take things over and keep things growing. Then things settled down, and little by little I saw the hole in my life. I want a child to help fill it, a child of my own, someone with a blood bond. I want that
connection.
I don't have it with anyone else in the world. " She curled her hand into a fist. Her voice was suddenly smaller, diminished by the overwhelming yearning she was trying to describe. "There are times... " She paused.

"Times what?"

"Times when I feel so
lonely
for family. Times when... " She struggled with the emotion, and he didn't rush her. "Times when I feel like I have so much feeling inside me with no place to put it. Times when I feel like I'll
burst. "
She paused again, then sighed. "Does this mean anything to you?"

He didn't answer.

"It probably doesn't. You have a family. You have grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles and cousins, a sister, two nephews and a niece. Whenever you want you can come home to people you love and who love you. Do you know how precious that is, Spencer?"

He remained silent.

"Oh, look, " she went on apologetically, "I'm not saying you don't, and I'm certainly not criticizing you. You've chosen to be footloose and fancy free, and that's your right You like your life. It's exciting and busy and full. You don't suffer from attacks of the lonelies. I'm not sure many men do. They're more self-contained than we are. They don't crave the soft, warm, silly family things women do. " She leaned back against the pillows. "If I'd been born a man, my life would be perfect. "

"I'm glad you weren't born a man" came the deep voice from the other end of the line just as Jenna was beginning to think
he'd
fallen asleep. "You're too pretty for that. "

She didn't know what to say. Spencer had never given her a compliment before. She had always been his younger sister's best friend, and not even with Caroline was he a compliment giver. His affection for her came out in his interest in the things she was doing and in her children. Jenna had been simply one of the things Caroline was doing.

The compliment was kind, though Jenna didn't delude herself into thinking that he meant anything deep by it. No doubt since she had just painted a picture of how alone she was in the world, he was feeling sorry for her.

Feeling strangely awkward and doubly grateful that they were talking on the phone rather than in person, she said in a quiet voice, "Well, that's neither here nor there. Have you decided whether I'd be a good mother for your child?"

"If I wanted a child, you'd be fine. "

She sat straight again. "Then you'll do it?"

"I don't know if I want a child. I told you that this afternoon. I need time to decide. "

"But I wanted to start on this soon. "

"How soon?"

"I'll be ovulating in two weeks. You said you'd give me an answer before you leave. "

"I will. That gives me another twelve hours to make a decision. "

"Is it so difficult, Spencer?" she pleaded. "A few minutes of your time this month, maybe next. I won't ask a thing of you after that. Not a thing, and you'll have that in writing. "

"I wasn't planning to have a child. "

"But this will be like
not
having one, only your parents will be pleased. "

He snorted. "Yeah, and they'll start in on me about coming home for the kid's birthday and Christmas, and they'll nag—"

"They won't, " Jenna interrupted. She had strong feelings about that. "If you agree to this, and if I do get pregnant, I'll tell them the truth. They'll know that you were doing a favor to me, that I've insisted that your role be limited to the child's conception, and that I have sole custody. I've talked this part out with Caroline. She agrees that given the choice between accepting my rules or alienating themselves from my child, they'll let you be. "

"But I don't
need
a child. "

"I
do. "

Seconds stretched into minutes. When Jenna couldn't bear the thudding of her heart any longer, she said, "Spencer? Will you?"