The Billionaire's Borrowed Baby(9)

But sex … hell, he'd had a lot of sex. Money equals power … even   sixteen-year-old girls could figure that out. So Luc was never without   female companionship, unless he chose to hang with his buddies.

When Hattie came into his life, everything changed. She was different.   She liked him, but his money didn't interest her. At first, he thought   her attitude might be a ploy to snag his attention. But as they got to   know each other, he realized that she really didn't give a damn that he   was loaded.

She expected thoughtfulness from him, attention to her likes and   dislikes. She wanted him to know her. And that was something money   couldn't buy.

It was only much, much later that he realized his money was actually a stumbling block.

A faint noise made him turn his head. Hattie hovered in the doorway, her   sun-streaked blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail, her feet   bare. She was dressed as casually as he was.

He patted the seat beside him. "Would you like more wine?" The upcoming conversation might flow more easily if she relaxed.

She shook her head as she perched gingerly on the far end of the couch,   tucking her legs beneath her. "No, thanks. Water would be nice." Her   toenails were painted pale pink. The sight of them did odd things to his   gut.

He went to the fridge behind the bar, extracted two Perriers and handed   her one. As he sat back down, he allowed the careful distance she had   created to remain between them. It meant she was nervous, and that gave   him an edge. He handed her a slim white envelope. "We'll start with   this." Inside were three credit cards with her soon-to-be name, Hattie   Parker Cavallo, already imprinted.

She extracted them with patent reluctance. "What are these?"

He stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. "As my wife, you'll need   a large wardrobe. I entertain frequently, and I also travel often.  When  it's feasible, I'd like you and Deedee to accompany me. In  addition, I  want you to outfit the nursery upstairs. I've put a  selection of baby  furniture catalogs in the desk drawer in your  bedroom. Ana will show you  the suite I picked out for Deedee. If it  doesn't meet with your  approval, we'll decide on another."

She paled, her eyes dark and haunted.

He ground his teeth. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I … I feel like you're taking over my life. Like I've lost all control."

His fists clenched instinctively, and he had to force himself to relax.   "I understood there was some sense of urgency to the situation … that we   needed to back up your lie quickly."

"There is … and we do … but … "

"But what? Do you disagree with any of the arrangements I've made thus far?"

"No, of course not."

"Then I don't understand the problem."

She jumped to her feet and paced. With her back to him, he could see the   way the soft, worn jeans cupped her butt. It was a very nice butt.  With  an effort, he dragged his attention back to the current crisis.                       
       
           



       

She whirled to face him. "I'm used to taking care of myself." The words were almost a shout.

Something inside him went still … crouched like a tiger in waiting. He   feigned a disinterest he didn't feel. "We don't have to get married at   all, Hattie. My team of lawyers loves going for the kill. Custody   situations aren't their usual fare, but with Eddie in self-destruct   mode, it shouldn't be too hard to convince a judge that you're the   obvious choice to raise Deedee." He paused, risking everything on a   gamble, a single toss of the dice. "Is that what you want?"

Hattie pressed two fingers to the center of the forehead, clearly in   pain. Her entire body language projected misery. "I want my sister   back," she said … and as he watched, tears spilled down her wan cheeks.

He tried to leave her alone, he really did. But her heartbreak twisted   something inside his chest. She didn't protest when he took her in his   arms, when he pulled the elastic band from her ponytail and stroked her   hair, careful not to further hurt her injury.

She felt fragile in his embrace, but he knew better. Her backbone was steel, her moral compass a straight arrow.

The quiet sobs didn't last long. He felt and sensed the moment she   pulled herself together. She stiffened in his embrace. Though it went   against his every inclination, he released her and returned to his seat   on the sofa. He took a swig of sparkling water and waited her out.

She studied a painting on the wall. It was a Vermeer he'd picked up at   an auction in New York last year. The obscure work immortalized a young   woman in her tiny boudoir as she bent at the waist to fasten her small   shoe. The play of light on the girl's graceful frame fascinated Luc.   He'd bought it on a whim, but it had quickly become one of his favorite   pieces. Impulse drove him at times-witness the way he'd agreed so   quickly to this sham marriage.

But in the end, his impulses usually served him well.

He grew impatient. "I asked you a question, Hattie. Do you want this marriage? Tell me."

She turned at last, her fists clenched at her sides. "If I don't go   through with this, Eddie's family will know I lied. And they'll use it   against me. I don't have a choice."

Her fatalistic attitude nicked his pride. His heart hardened, words   tumbling out like cold stones. "Then we'll do this my way. You can't run   out on me this time, Hattie. I love irony, don't you?"



His sarcasm scraped her nerves. She was being so unfair. Luc had done   everything she had asked of him and more. He didn't deserve her angst   and criticism. She owed him more than she could ever calculate.

The fact that her body still ached for his only complicated matters.

Swallowing her aversion to the feeling that she was being bought and   paid for, she sat back down and summoned a faint smile. "Giving a woman   that much plastic is dangerous. Should we discuss a budget?"

His expression was inscrutable. "I know you pretty well, Hattie Parker. I   doubt seriously if you'll bankrupt me." He reached in his pocket and   pulled out a small velvet box, laying it on the cushion between them.   "This is next on the agenda. I thought it was customary to make such   things a surprise, but given your current mood, perhaps I should return   it and let you choose your own."

She picked up the box and flipped back the lid. This was a flawless   diamond solitaire. Clearly he understood her style, because the setting   was simple in the extreme. But the rectangular stone that flashed and   sparkled was easily four carats.

She bit her lip. "It's lovely," she said, squeezing the words from a   tight throat. He made no attempt to take her hand and do the honors. She   told herself she was glad. When she slid the ring onto her left hand,   the brilliant stone seemed to take on a life of its own.

"So you don't want to exchange it? I wouldn't want to be accused of controlling your life."

His tone was bland, but she felt shame, nevertheless. "I love it, Luc. Thank you."

It was his turn to get up and pace. "I've made some preliminary wedding inquiries. Do you need or want a church wedding?"

Disappointment made her stomach leaden. Like most girls she had dreamed of her wedding day. "No. That's not necessary."

"Our family owns a small private island off the coast, near Savannah. If   you're agreeable, we can have the ceremony there. The location   precludes the possibility of Eddie or any of his relatives showing up to   make a scene. Do you have someone you'd like to stand up with you?"

She picked at a stray thread on the knee of her jeans, her mind in a   whirl of conflicting thoughts. "My best friend, Jodi, would have been my   choice, but her husband is in the military, and they were transferred   to Japan two months ago. With Angela gone, well, I … "                       
       
           



       

"I'm sure Ana would be honored to help us out."

It was a good choice, and a logical one given the circumstances. "I'll ask her tomorrow."

"A honeymoon will be important," he said, bending to turn on the gas   logs in the fireplace. The spring evening had turned cool and damp.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

He turned to face her, his expression blank. "We can't risk any   accusation that our marriage isn't real. I know you'll protest, but I   really think we should go away for at least a week. Ana's niece is a   college student working on her early childhood certification. I've   already spoken to her, and she's willing to stay here at the house with   Ana and Sherman while we're gone, to help with the baby."