The Billionaire and the Bassinet

by Suzanne McMinn

  Garrett stood as well. “I understand you’re upset—” He stopped short. “Are you all right?” He stared at her, and for the first time he didn’t look quite so sure of himself.

  “I’m fine,” Lanie bit out. “I want you to leave. You can go back to Austin and tell Walter Blakemore—oh!” She couldn’t speak as another agonizing sensation rolled over her abdomen.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” He sounded downright panicky now. Lame felt the hysterical urge to laugh, but she was in too much pain.

  “I don’t know.” She sank back down to the couch, shaky, wrapping her arms over her belly as the pain ebbed again. “I think—I think I might be in labor.”

  Chapter Two

  “What did you say?” Garrett wanted Lanie to tell him he’d heard wrong.

  She didn’t.

  “I think I might be in labor,” she said again. Her voice shook and her pupils grew enormous.

  Apprehension fingered up Garrett’s spine. He wished he was back in Austin. He wished he was anywhere but where he was. He wasn’t used to being around pregnant women. Especially pregnant women who said they were in labor. “I thought you said that you were only eight months along,” he insisted.

  “I am only eight months along,” Lanie said quickly, her big eyes filled with anxiety. “It’s too early! And Patty’s out of town. I can’t have the baby when Patty’s out of town.” She sounded really scared now.

  Garrett blinked. “Who’s Patty?”

  “She’s a friend. She’s my birth coach.” She twisted her hands in her lap.

  Her obvious distress registered with Garrets. Suddenly whether Lanie carried Ben’s baby or not didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was a human being who needed help.

  And so did he. Emergency childbirth was not in his repertoire. Stocks and bonds, real estate and development, business mergers and takeovers—not babies. Definitely not babies.

  “We need to get you to a doctor.” And fast. Lanie looked like a terrified rabbit, and Garrett wasn’t feeling much better himself.

  “Yes.” Lanie didn’t move.

  “Do you have a bag?”

  She stared. “A what?”

  “A bag. You know, a bag. To take to the hospital with you,” he clarified impatiently.

  They always had bags in the movies, didn’t they? Garrett’s thoughts hurtled along. In fact, he was starting to feel like one of those movie dads-to-be—as in, panicked. Only in the movies, the moms-to-be always seemed to know what they were doing, and in this case Lanie wasn’t helping.

  “I haven’t packed one yet.” Lanie stared at him. “You know, I might not even be in labor,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. Maybe it’s false labor. I don’t even feel anything now.” She seemed to latch on to the idea, brightening.

  False labor. Garrett had no idea what that was, but he wasn’t taking any chances on ending up playing doctor in the parlor. She needed medical attention. He couldn’t be responsible for any harm coming to her unborn child, even if it wasn’t Ben’s.

  “You’ve fainted,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t you at least let your doctor know about that?”

  He heard the soft intake of her breath, watched her press her fingers to her lips. “You’re right.” She looked worried now.

  Garrett took charge. Picking up the phone on the side table, he turned to her. “What’s your doctor’s number?” He checked his watch. He hoped her physician didn’t leave early on Fridays.

  Lanie reeled off the number automatically while Garrett punched it in. When it started ringing, he handed her the phone.

  Garrett listened while Lanie asked for the nurse, then described the hardening and bunching in her abdomen and reported the fainting incident. She was silent for several moments, listening, before thanking the nurse and replacing the receiver.

  “Well?”

  “She told me not to worry, that fainting won’t hurt the baby, but they may want to run a test for anemia. She thinks I should go ahead and come into the office so Dr. Furley can check me. As for the contractions, they might be false labor, but she wants to be sure.”

  Lanie felt silly already. So much for the poise with which she normally prided herself. A few isolated contractions, and she’d practically fallen apart. She didn’t even want to think about the fainting episode. That hadn’t been like her, either.

  Annoyed, she stood up and retrieved her purse and keys from the kitchen. She nursed the tiny hope that when she came back to the parlor, Garrett would have taken the hint and decided to go back to Austin. She never wanted to see him again.

  Unfortunately he was standing by the door waiting for her.

  “Ready?” he asked. “My car’s out front.”

  Lanie did a double take. “I’ve got my own car,” she pointed out, stubborn now that the pain had gone. “I can drive myself. It’s false labor. I’m sure.” She felt perfectly fine now.

  “You weren’t so sure a minute ago,” Garrett responded.

  “I changed my mind.” The last person Lanie wanted assistance from was the man who’d virtually accused her of lying about her baby’s paternity. Now that she’d lost the edge off her fear, the anger at the Blakemores for doubting her word about Ben being the father of her baby returned full force.

  “Well, I haven’t changed my mind.” Garrett stood his ground. “I’m not about to let you drive over there by yourself.”

  Lanie stared back at him, frustrated. She’d liked him better a few minutes ago when he’d looked flustered. Unfortunately he seemed to have recovered what she suspected was his usual arrogance.

  “Your opinion doesn’t matter,” she informed him coolly, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder, the keys in her hand jingling at the motion. “You were just leaving, as I recall. I can get five minutes across town to Dr. Furley’s office on my own, thank you very much. I feel okay now. Really.” She was starting to wonder if she’d imagined the severity of the contractions. She was stressed, that was all.

  “I never said I was leaving. We still have business to settle—”

  “No, we don’t,” Lanie said firmly, certain of at least that one thing. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not going to Austin with you, and I’m not the slightest bit interested in Walter’s tests. He can accept or not accept the baby, it’s his choice.”

  At this point, all she wanted was to have the Blakemores out of her life. She regretted sending the letter in the first place. All she’d wanted was for her baby to have a chance to know his father’s family. But their reaction to her efforts wasn’t only insulting—it was frightening.

  What would they want next, once she’d complied with their demands for the tests? Would they demand she move to Austin, where Walter could dominate every aspect of her child’s life?

  She couldn’t let Walter do to her baby what he’d done to Ben. She needed to get away from Garrett Blakemore, and think.

  Problem was, he wasn’t budging.

  “I’m leaving now,” she announced as she breezed past him toward the front door, “so you’ll have to—oh!” Pain—very real pain—gripped her lower abdomen again, pulling her up short.

  “Lanie?” She felt Garrett come up behind her, supporting her as she bent forward. She grabbed her swollen middle, not realizing exactly when he slid his arm around her waist, only knowing that by the time the pain passed and her breathing returned to normal, he all but held her up. His arms were strong and secure...and gentle. So gentle. How could this hard man be so gentle?

  She extricated herself from his support. He let go, but his eyes held hers. She saw gentleness there, too, then it was gone and his eyes were cold again.

  “My car’s out front,” he repeated.

  Tears stung at Lanie’s eyes. She’d give anything if she didn’t have to accept this man’s help. She was afraid of giving him any power over her. She was afraid to need him. But she knew she had to think of her baby, put her baby first.

  The pain of the last cont
raction had receded, but there were no two ways about it now. She could really be in labor, and she was scared.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, she moved to the door. “Okay. You can drive me.” She blinked back the tears and met his gaze head-on. “But right after that, you’re leaving.”

  The general practitioner’s office, located in a small, one-story professional building, was neat and modern, at least from what Garrett could see of the place. A harried-looking woman stood writing out a check at the receptionist’s counter, several toddlers clinging to her knees. Another patient, a white-haired lady who looked like she could have been in her early eighties, sat flipping through a women’s magazine. She glanced up and smiled as she observed Lanie’s condition.

  After the mother and toddlers left, Lanie spoke to the receptionist while Garrett sat down. He noticed how, from the back, Lanie didn’t even look pregnant. The lines of her figure were slim as a teenager’s—long legs, slender hips, fragile-looking shoulders.

  When she’d looked at him with pain, her eyes so huge and vulnerable, Garrett had wanted to just wrap her up somehow and promise her everything would be all right. It was a reaction that made no sense. Garrett crossed his arms and stared at Lanie as she came toward him and settled in the empty seat beside him.

  “It’ll be just a minute,” she said.

  “How are you feeling?” The one thing he was sure she wasn’t faking was the pain. The terror on her face back at the house had been real.

  “I’m fine. No more contractions.” She smiled shakily, and Garrets realized two things. One, that she was a lot more relieved to be at the doctor’s office than she’d been letting on.

  And two, that she had the smile of an angel. Achingly vulnerable. Completely kissable.

  Garrett forgot for a second where they were or that Lanie was eight months pregnant. All he could think was that he wanted to kiss her, right then, right there. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d wanted to kiss a woman this badly. It was insane.

  Why did she have this effect on him? Was this the effect she’d had on Ben? Did the woman weave some sort of magic spell?

  She picked up a magazine from the table on the other side of her and began perusing the table of contents. Garrett leaned back, blankly studying the painting of a mother and child in a field of brilliant bluebonnets on the wall opposite them.

  Bewitchment would certainly explain the irrational behavior that had characterized the last months of Ben’s life. Ben had given up everything—his position in his father’s company, his home, wealth, even his very place in the Blakemore family. All for a pretty little innkeeper he’d rear-ended at a traffic light and married a month later—against his father’s orders.

  Walter had cut Ben off in an effort to bring his son to his senses. Unfortunately there hadn’t been time. An aneurysm had claimed Ben’s life within six months of the marriage. He’d died without ever speaking to his father again. Or to Garrett.

  It was still hard for Garrett to believe Ben was gone. Ben had been so full of life.

  And he’d been young—even naive, perhaps. He could have been easy prey for a con artist

  Garrett snapped his gaze to Lanie, sitting quietly beside him. She was no sorceress, he reminded himself fiercely. This was no magic spell she weaved. She was a con artist, plain and simple. The shocked innocence she’d put on when he’d broached the testing of the baby was part of her act. If the baby wasn’t Ben’s, if all she’d ever wanted from the second she’d latched on to Ben was a piece of the Blakemore fortune, she was hardly going to admit it right off the bat. He couldn’t let big eyes and a sweet smile deter him from his purpose.

  “Lanie Blakemore?” the nurse called.

  Lanie stood, then disappeared through the door into the inner office.

  Garrett stared determinedly out the narrow window, watching the occasional car pass outside the doctor’s office. He tried to think about a land development company in New York he’d been considering buying for the Blakemore Corporation. He tried to think about his upcoming trip to Japan to consult on an overseas merger.

  But no matter what he did, his mind kept drifting back to Lanie.

  What if he was wrong, what if Walter was wrong? What if Lanie was innocent?

  And then he had to wonder if she was really a sorceress, after all.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he checked his watch, frustrated. Where was she? Was she really in labor? What was going on? He wanted to pace, but the idea sounded too corny, so he stayed put.

  “Is this your first?”

  Garrett looked up. The elderly lady across the waiting room watched him. Her cheeks were pink and lined, her eyes bright with curiosity.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You and your wife must be very excited. It looks like that baby will be here soon.” She smiled.

  His wife?

  Garrett stared at the elderly woman. It took him a full minute to realize she was actually talking about him and Lanie.

  How would he feel if Lanie were his wife and she was having his baby? Proud was the first word that popped into Garrett’s mind.

  Then he thought about Vanessa. He and Vanessa had discussed having children, once or twice. That was as far as things had gotten.

  That was as far as their marriage had gotten before Garrett had figured out that he’d been the biggest chump on planet Earth. Nothing like finding your wife in bed with another man to drive home the fact that trust was for idiots.

  He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Not with anybody. And for sure not with Lanie. She might have eyes like a newborn foal’s, but Garrett wasn’t going to be taken in that easily.

  “That’s not my wife,” Garrett said suddenly, sharply. “In fact, I barely know her.” A fact he’d be well advised to remember, he added to himself.

  The older woman looked startled.

  Garret picked up a newspaper from the table next to him and held it in front of his face, discouraging any further communication. He struggled to concentrate on the black-and-white print. And he wondered why he hadn’t told Walter to send his sixty-year-old, stuffed-shirt personal attorney, Richard Houseman, on this little mission to Deer Creek.

  “Now, remember, rest tonight, Lanie. And try not to worry.”

  Lanie thanked the nurse as she slipped through the door between the inner and outer offices. Her gaze went straight to Garrett. He folded up the newspaper he held and dropped it on the table, standing as she approached.

  “Are you all right?” he asked immediately.

  “I’m fine.” Really, she wasn’t. She was worried sick. The examination’s conclusion was uncertain. Her pains had been erratic and had emanated from her lower abdomen rather than her back, leading Dr. Furley to suspect it was merely false labor. However, he had also reminded her that everyone’s experience was different, and she could well be exhibiting very early labor, after all. Only time would tell.

  Dr. Fursley had reassured her that the baby was healthy and big enough to be born, and had performed another sonogram to reassure her. Still, Patty wouldn’t be back until Sunday night. Lanie was scared to death of going through labor without her coach.

  “You’re sure you’re fine?” Garrett probed. He looked suspicious, as if he didn’t quite believe her.

  “Yes, of course.”

  She made an appointment with the receptionist for a regular prenatal visit the following week, determined not to tell Garrett any details. She wasn’t going to have this baby before at least Sunday night, that was all there was to it, and she had no intention of sharing the doctor’s warnings with Garrett. The information might up the coercion level for getting her to go back to Austin with him immediately, and as vulnerable as she felt, she didn’t think she was up to the confrontation.

  She had to admit she was glad to have him there to drive her home, though. She was definitely feeling a little weak and shaky. And thankfully, he seemed to have accepted her assurances. He was quiet as he escorted her out to the c
ar again.

  Starting up the engine, he turned to look at her. “Nothing’s wrong? What about the pain you were having?” Garrett didn’t move the car as he waited for Lanie to answer.

  So much for accepting her word for anything.

  “I told you, I’m fine,” Lanie repeated, working to make her voice firm. Garrett’s piercing dark gaze, so much like Ben’s—and yet so different, unsettled her. She wasn’t used to having anyone worrying about her.

  For just a moment Garrett’s attention and concern felt nice. Kind of warm and fuzzy, with just the right dash of the unknown.

  Ben had certainly never worried about her. He’d always been too busy worrying about himself, angry and obsessed by his bitter emotional struggle with his father.

  How would Walter Blakemore feel if he knew he was right about at least one thing about her—that his son’s marriage to her had been a mistake?

  Reality reared up, ugly and painful. The Blakemores hated her. Garrett wasn’t worried about her. His concern and attention was not for her. He was worried about the possible Blakemore heir.

  “It was just false labor, like I thought,” she forced herself to say blithely. “Now, please, I really have to get home. I have guests coming in tonight.”

  She remembered suddenly she didn’t even have the room made up. Just thinking of the evening ahead made her bone weary. She’d had a full house the night before—and had intended them to be her last guests for a while. She’d taken care not to allow bookings for the month preceding her due date and for six weeks afterward, the most time she could afford to close the struggling B&B. But she’d been feeling chipper this morning when a couple had called for last-minute reservations.

  She regretted the impulse that had made her accept the booking. She wasn’t feeling nearly so chipper now.

  Garrett backed the car out of the parking space, but he wasn’t through with his questions.

  “How do you know it’s false labor?” he asked as he swung the car into the street, heading in the direction of the B&B.