by Leanne Banks
“Because there are no doubts,” Michael said. Except on Kate’s part. Michael was damned sure of what he was doing; he just wanted it done as quickly as possible.
“Kate?” Justin said in disapproval. “The only Kate you’ve ever mentioned is your assistant.”
“She’s no longer my assistant. She’ll be my wife.”
“Something about this doesn’t smell right,” Justin said with a frown. “I could have sworn you were just as anti-marriage as I am.”
“Don’t dig,” Michael said in a level tone. “I just wanted to invite you to the ceremony. Kate’s mother asked me to invite my family and I have none. You’re the next best sorry thing, so if you want to come, great. If you don’t, that’s okay, too.”
Justin exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Dylan. He shrugged. “Well, sure, I’ll come. I just think you’re making a big mistake. Marriage is a messy, expensive business. It sucks the life force out of your wallet like nothing else. Of course, kids are next in line for expensive, but—” Justin broke off as realization hit him. “Kids,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t—” He made a grimace. “Oh, damn. She’s not—”
“Don’t dig,” Dylan cut in, correctly reading the closed expression Michael knew he was wearing. “What have you learned about the home for unwed teenage mothers?”
“It’s a good cause. We should donate.”
Justin took a swig of his beer and shook his head. “The irony is just too sweet.”
A short while later, Michael entered his apartment. His conversation with his partners in philanthropy had left him irritated. The knowing expressions combined with the skepticism in their voices made something inside him twist. Michael wanted the marriage done. “Kate,” he called, ready to complete the next step. “Kate, I have something for you.”
Poking her head out the bedroom door, she regarded him warily. “What?”
“I brought you—” His phone rang, surprising him. It rarely rang unless someone was calling him from work. He picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
A pause followed. “Kate Adams?” a male voice enquired.
Irritated at the intrusion, he frowned. “She’s here,” he said. “Who’s calling?”
“Jeremy,” the man said. “Jeremy Ridgway. We dated in college.”
Michael thrust the phone at Kate. “Jeremy Ridgway. You’ve got thirty seconds to break his heart, or I’ll help.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “Thirty seconds!”
“How did he get this number?” Michael asked with a scowl.
“Since I’m captive in your cave, I had my calls forwarded.”
“Twenty seconds,” Michael said.
Kate glared at him and turned her back to him. “Jeremy, it’s been a long time. Yes, my living arrangements have changed,” she said and paused. “Yes, you’re right, I always enjoyed sailing, but—”
“Ten seconds,” Michael murmured behind her.
“I can’t. My significant other,” she said, rolling her eyes at the term, “would object. Thanks anyway. Tell your sister I said hi. Take care. Bye now,” she said and hung up the phone. She shot him a chilling glance. “Was that necessary?”
“Significant other?” he echoed, and ground his teeth.
Kate shifted from one foot to the other. “I was rushed. Nothing else seemed right.”
Michael counted to ten. He couldn’t remember a deal that had exasperated him more. Pulling the jeweler’s box from his pocket, he flipped it open and took the phone from her hand at the same time he handed her the box.
Kate looked at the ring in complete silence. This time, however, he didn’t see horror on her face. She took a deep breath and finally met his gaze. “It’s beautiful.”
He pulled the diamond solitaire surrounded by tiny pearls ring from the box. “Then you’ll wear it.”
She nibbled her lip. “I—uh—” She cocked her head to one side. “There’s no rush. There’s really no rush for the wedding. I mean, it’s not as if I’m even showing.”
His patience shot, Michael cut to the chase. “How do you plan to explain the baby’s premature birth date to your parents?”
She sighed in resignation. “Okay. How did you know I would like pearls?”
“You used to wear pearl earrings to the office. You touched them a lot,” he said, “as if you liked the way they felt.”
Surprise, followed by a dark wary sensuality deepened her blue eyes. “I didn’t know you noticed.”
“I notice a lot of things,” Michael told her and pushed the ring onto her finger. “It fits.” He tugged her closer. “Seal it with a kiss,” he said and took her mouth.
He inhaled her sexy scent and struggled with the craving to seal the moment with something far more than a kiss. Her lips were soft, lush and addicting. “Husband,” he said against her mouth. “Say it.”
“Fiancé,” she corrected, pulling back slightly, but holding his gaze. Her reticence alternately aroused and frustrated him. “One step at a time.”
Michael swallowed his impatience. It was better than significant other. “You can tell your mother two of my friends are coming to the wedding.”
Her eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“Two of my—”
“—I didn’t know you had any friends,” she blurted out, then seemed to catch herself. “I mean you’ve always been so busy with work that you never seemed to have time for much in the way of personal relationships.”
“We go way back. These two guys stayed at the Granger Home for Boys.”
“Oh, well, can I meet them?”
“Sure,” Michael said. “I told you they were coming to the wedding.”
Kate’s lips twitched. “I meant before the wedding.”
“We’ll see. Anything happen today that I should know about?”
“Not today,” she said.
He lifted an eyebrow at her choice of words. “Tomorrow then?”
“I have an appointment with the obstetrician.”
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head. “It’s routine.” She waved her hand. “It’s a long shot, but last time the nurse told me I might be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat at this appointment.”
“What time?”
“Two o’clock at the Robinson Medical Center. Dr. Dent.”
“I have a conference call with the new manager of R and D on the west coast.”
“No problem,” she said a little too casually. “You really don’t need to be there.”
Michael almost didn’t make it. Although he rescheduled his teleconference, traffic and his latest clueless assistant conspired against him. He strode into the doctor’s office at 2:20 and wangled his way into Kate’s examination room.
Lying on the table with the doctor’s stethoscope on her abdomen, Kate looked at Michael in surprise. “I thought you had a meeting.”
“Rescheduled.”
The doctor glanced up. “Dr. Dent,” she said, introducing herself. “Are you the father?”
Michael felt a clench in his stomach at the question, but nodded. “Michael Hawkins.”
“I’m trying to find your baby’s heartbeat. It may be too early, but…” She moved the stethoscope and smiled, then turned up the volume on a small magnification device. “There it is.”
Michael listened to the fast swishing sound and his gaze met Kate’s. Her eyes were filled with wonder.
“It’s so fast,” she whispered.
“It’s in the normal range,” the doctor said. “Sounds good and strong. Just one,” she added with a smile.
Transfixed, Michael listened to the sound of the tiny heartbeat and felt something inside him click. Their child, he thought. Although he’d known it was real before, the only outward evidence Kate had exhibited had been morning sickness. The swishing heartbeat made it undeniable. A small somebody was totally dependent on him and Kate. He felt a velvet bond wrap around him.
The doctor removed the stethoscope, gave a few perfunctory instruct
ions, and left. After Kate rearranged her clothing, she looked up at Michael and he saw the same awe-stricken sense of wonder and responsibility he felt mirrored in her eyes.
He pulled her into his arms and put his hand on her abdomen and kissed her. The emotion he felt was electric and too big, too powerful to be contained in a single moment. Kate covered his hand with hers and passionately responded to him. Michael felt a wholly primitive need to claim her as his again. “Doctor’s office,” he muttered to himself and pulled back.
“We could really mess this up if we’re not careful,” she said.
“We won’t,” he said, and he was deadly determined.
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve got the money. You’ve got the heart.”
Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “If anything should ever happen to me…” she began.
“It won’t,” Michael said immediately, violently rejecting the notion. “I won’t let it.”
She smiled gently. “I didn’t know you had final say over those things. Life and death happen, Michael,” she told him. “If something happens to me, your money won’t be enough. You’ll have to grow a heart.”
The very thought of it made Michael break into a sweat.
Time was ticking, and Kate felt her wedding date rushing toward her. Unable to bear the tension in Michael’s apartment any longer, she decided to pay a visit to the home for unwed teenage mothers. She must have stuffed the paper describing the charity in her purse. Despite the fact that she wasn’t a teenager and a marriage was in her near future, Kate felt a strong affinity for the group.
The home, which had been a small bed and breakfast hotel in the early 1900s, was located in the west end of town. The building reminded her of a genteel elderly lady, a bit worn, but clean and, in a way, elegant. The receptionist, Tina, who greeted her was six months pregnant and sixteen years old. “I’m sorry the director was called away. One of the girls went into labor. I can tell you a little about the place though.”
“Please do,” Kate said, seeing in Tina a maturity beyond her fresh-faced years.
“Everyone who comes here is drug-free and has pretty much been kicked out of home with no financial help. The home offers free counseling and medical care. An instructor comes five days a week and teaches us the basics. Everyone pitches in with cooking, cleaning and managing the office. We have a curfew, but since most of the fathers have disappeared, most of us aren’t interested in dating right now,” she said wryly.
“What happens to the babies?”
“Some girls put them up for adoption. Most don’t, which is part of what our director, Ms. Lambert, is working on right now. A lot of girls don’t want to give up the babies, but we don’t have good job skills. Ms. Lambert has been looking for someone to teach us computer stuff, but volunteers are tough to find because those people really rake in the bucks.”
It was strange, but Kate felt more at home here than she did in Michael’s apartment. She would be bored out of her gourd if all she did was spend her days shopping and house-hunting. “I think I may know someone who can help,” she said. “What kind of computers do you have?”
Tina wrinkled her nose. “One computer,” she said, pointing to an ancient machine in the back office.
Kate glanced at it and sighed. “A little younger than the house, huh?”
Tina laughed.
“Well, we have no place to go but up.”
Kate left the home, stopped by a computer discount store, and purchased two machines. She spent the afternoon and evening setting them up at her old duplex. She craved the familiarity and since her lease wasn’t up, there was technically no reason she couldn’t visit the place every now and then.
A knock sounded at the door just before it opened. She glanced up to see Michael. He looked at the two computers. “What are you doing?”
“Setting up two computers I bought today.”
“But you already have a computer and a laptop.” He walked closer. “This doesn’t have the best name-brand processor.”
“Don’t be snooty,” she warned him. “This processor may not be a designer brand, but it’ll do the job. It’s fast. I’m donating Claire and Delores to the home for unwed teenage mothers because the one computer they have must have been donated by the pilgrims. I visited the home today; they need a computer teacher, and I am now it.”
“Claire and Delores,” he muttered. “I never understood your propensity for naming machines.”
“It keeps me from smashing them to pieces when they crash.”
“Why didn’t you bring them to my apartment?”
“I don’t like your apartment,” she said and felt him staring from behind her. The tension which had drained from her began to seep in again.
“Why?”
“It’s bare,” she said. “There are no plants or pictures. No memorabilia. It doesn’t tell anything about you.”
“I wasn’t aware that was a requirement,” he said dryly. “I don’t have a lot of cute pictures of me from my childhood.”
Kate felt a pang at the thought of Michael’s lost childhood, but the hour was late and his proximity made her itchy. “Why is that?” she asked. “Were you an ugly child?”
He gave a double take, then chuckled. “I’m sure that’s a matter of opinion. Redecorate it?”
“No. Because then it would be my apartment instead of our apartment,” she said as she installed the last program on the computer. “I need to know your preferences, your favorite colors, what kind of art you like, what things make you feel good and comfortable—besides chocolate chip cookies,” she said remembering his penchant for stealing them when she’d brought a few to the office.
He gently guided her chin around. “I like blue. I don’t like art that I can’t figure out. I like lots of windows and I don’t like heavy draperies. I like comfortable furniture. I like plants and flowers that I can’t kill. And I like you,” he told her with topaz eyes that made seductive promises she knew he could deliver, “in my bed.”
Six
Kate delivered Delores and Claire to the home for unwed teenage mothers the following day and was impressed with the director. Unable to bear the terminal beige decor of Michael’s apartment, she picked up a few more things to add some color. She kept herself busy for fear of a flat-out panic attack as the wedding date drew nearer.
Although Kate had never thought of herself as helpless, she couldn’t help feeling like a mouse with Michael as the sleek, savvy cat. She’d watched him negotiate mergers and while he’d always made the companies he acquired feel good, they still ended up being eaten. His forceful masculinity drew her in at the same time she felt the need to protect herself from it. It was enough to interrupt her sleep knowing he was nearby and wanted her.
Another day passed, and Kate’s parents called to remind her they would be coming tomorrow. On edge, she received a curious call that afternoon from the home for unwed teenage mothers. Just when she’d thought Michael’s blood ran green for dollars instead of red, he proved her wrong.
Michael arrived home at close to eight o’clock. He’d buried himself in work. Knowing Kate was in his bed filled him with visions that left him in a state of permanent arousal. Michael had a strong understanding of timing and negotiations, and he knew he’d pushed Kate into the marriage. Pushing her into making love with him before the ceremony might put his ultimate goal of marriage at risk. This situation reminded him of nitroglycerin and he refused to upset the precarious balance. Rocking her already emotional boat by pushing her into bed with him could make her run in the wrong direction—away from him. He mentally understood and believed all of this, but his libido and need to possess her taunted him relentlessly.
The scent of a delicious home-cooked meal and chocolate chip cookies greeted him when he opened the door. “Oh, God,” he said. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Welcome,” she said and regarded him with a smile that made him wonder what inspired it. She wore a little skirt
that captured and held his attention. Kate had great legs, he thought again. Slim ankles, curvy calves, and silky thighs, and in between them, he remembered, her femininity forming a wet, snug, velvet welcome to him.
Michael grew hard and stifled a sigh. He loosened his collar. “What’s the occasion?”
“Farewell dinner,” she said.
Everything inside him stopped. “What?”
“My parents are descending tomorrow,” she said with a lopsided smile.
Michael relaxed slightly.
“Do you like beef stew?”
“Yes.” Michael watched the mind-bending swing of her hips as she walked toward the counter. The scent of delicious food and the sight of her delicious backside combined to form the opposing sensations of complete satisfaction and complete frustration. Soon, he promised himself, he would be consuming more than Kate’s food.
After they shared the meal, he sat back replete. Kate shooed away his offer to help remove the dishes. She took care of them quickly, then leveled a gaze on him.
He felt an odd sensation in his gut at the intent expression in her eyes. She looked like a woman with a mission as she walked toward him.
“I think I need to pass on a thank you.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the home for unwed teenage mothers called to thank me for the twenty computers that arrived today along with a quarter-million-dollar donation.”
Michael shrugged. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I believe you,” she said, pointing her index finger at his chest, “are responsible.”
Her blue eyes searched his. “I had just told you about the home’s needs and the following day the computers and funds arrive. Too much of a coincidence.”
“I’m sure the home’s been begging for help from everyone. Any number of people could have chosen them for a tax write-off.”
Impatience flashed in her eyes. “I’m not going to let you reduce this to a tax write-off.”
“I can’t take responsibility for this,” Michael said, thinking of the oath of secrecy he and his friends had taken.