by Various
Sammy Jo wanted him to father her child. No. Sam wanted his help. He had to stop thinking of her as Sammy Jo or this guilt would eat him alive.
No. He couldn’t separate the two. They were one and the same. Sam was Sammy Jo, who was an intrinsic part of the night that forever changed his life, and most likely changed hers, too. He couldn’t ignore that. He owed it to her to at least hear her out. Even though he knew what his answer would be, what it had to be. “I didn’t think you had any interest in starting a family. At least that’s what you led me to believe.”
“No, I told you I didn’t want a husband. I never said anything about not wanting kids.” Her expression softened further. “Listen, I’m not looking for an emotional or financial commitment from you — I know you don’t want children. That’s one of the reasons I’m asking you and not some other man. If you agree to help me, you’d relinquish all parental rights to any child we might conceive together. You’d have no commitment to me or the baby whatsoever.”
A baby. The very thought of a woman having his child made him cringe all over, his gut constricting like a closed-up sea anemone. Memories of Kate, his second wife, pushed through his mental barrier. He turned away so Sam wouldn’t see the raw emotion he knew was written all over his face, emotion he was usually able to disguise.
“Hello?” Sam said, breaking into his torment. “Are you listening to me?”
He jerked his head toward her. “Yes,” he said, his voice sounding scratchy. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m listening.”
“Well?”
The memories receded and he felt in control again. For the moment, just think of her as Samantha Rossi, a siren you met at the Extravaganza. Keep it light. “Does Frederick’s of Hollywood even sell maternity clothes?” he quipped.
“Look, if you’re not going to take me seriously, then you can—”
“No, no. I’m taking you seriously.” At least as much as was possible with her standing before him shrink-wrapped in red vinyl. “Boy, you really know how to catch a man off guard, don’t you? Why me?”
“You’re intelligent and attractive. Chances are good you’d produce intelligent and attractive children.”
He moved to his desk and sat on the edge of the polished mahogany surface, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why not just use a sperm bank?”
“I tried that six times. It obviously didn’t work out, but it’s just as well. I want more control in choosing the father of my child.”
He inhaled deeply. Keep it light. “What would be in it for me?”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a snit.
“I mean, what would I get out of the deal?”
Sam blinked fast a couple of times, as if he’d just called her bluff. “Well, I’d pay you, of course.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’d pay me?” This was getting weirder by the minute.
She nodded. “Money makes it legal. How much would you—?”
He held up his hand, halting her words. “Any payment I’d have in mind—” he raked his eyes slowly over her, from the tips of her spiked black heels, over her vinyl-wrapped curves, to her shining mane of hair, “—wouldn’t cost you a dime.”
Her expression remained blank a moment, then a furious light dawned in her eyes. He knew that would get her. Her chest heaved so dramatically the vinyl over her breasts squeaked. “You’ll help me out in exchange for sex?” The words were soft and ominously spoken.
He moved off the desk and met her in the middle of the room where she stood frozen in place, glaring at him in anger and disbelief. “Not quite, beautiful. I’m saying the only way I would help you get pregnant is if we did it the old-fashioned way, and the last time I checked, that involved sex.”
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and John half expected her to slug him. “You’d help me if I agree to sleep with you?”
“No. Then I’d think about it.”
She took a step backward and planted her hands on her hips. “No way, Everest. I wouldn’t even consider sleeping with you.”
“Then I wouldn’t even consider helping you. Shoot. You got all dressed up for nothing.” He felt bad playing her like this, but this issue was too difficult to face head on right now. “What’s with that outfit anyway? It can’t be comfortable.”
She stared hard at him, as if she couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t willing to jump through hoops for her. “You really won’t even think about it?” she asked. She obviously wasn’t used to not getting her way.
“Not if you won’t.”
She glared at him a few long moments, then crossed to the windows overlooking the weight rooms and peered out, her face set and deep in thought. Slowly, she swung back his way, staring at the carpet as if lost in thought. “We’d have to get together several times a month, and it could take several months…” she murmured.
Shit. She was actually considering it. He’d thrown it out as a joke, to keep his mind on an even keel. But it had backfired. Although he had to admit the thought of burying himself deep inside her had his body heating like a nuclear reactor.
Finally, she shook her head and frowned. “No way, Everest.” She marched out of the office.
John released a long breath of relief as the echo of her clicking heels in the hallway grew fainter and fainter until it faded altogether.
Sam didn’t slow or soften her stride until she’d shoved through the swinging glass doors and stood on Fourth Avenue. Heavy strings of rain pounded her head like hundreds of water pistols. She pulled an umbrella out of her tote.
“Sleep with him, my ass,” she muttered aloud, watching the traffic crawl through the downpour. City lights reflected like a Picasso painting on the wet pavement. A Metro bus came too close to the curb and sprayed water on the unfortunate people who walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk.
“Who does he think he is?” Her breath steamed and swirled in front of her. “Like I’d even consider going to bed with him.” She ignored the tiny thrill that shot through her.
She glanced at her watch. A quick scan of the bus sign told her the one she needed wouldn’t be there for twenty minutes. Why didn’t she drive today?
She shivered and shrugged into her coat. It didn’t help. She could take cover inside Gym Everest, but didn’t want to chance running into him. She’d rather be hit by a bus.
Sam had met men of his caliber before, and never had she felt such a strong and lingering animosity toward them as she had for John. Usually, she just put them in their place. But with him, it was different. He just rubbed her the wrong way. The time he’d rubbed her the right way during that kiss flashed in her memory, sending a heatwave through her body all the way to her toes. So what, so what? She’d enjoyed kissing him. Big frickin’ deal.
She’d figured John would jump to help her out, especially dressed like she was in this damn uncomfortable outfit. But he hadn’t behaved as she’d expected. At all. Apparently, he was of higher character than she’d given him credit for.
That pissed her off.
Frustration welled inside her like helium in a party balloon. She thought she’d finally found a way to bring her dreams of having a baby to fruition, and now she would have to start all over at square one. As if she were desperate enough for a baby that she’d have sex with John Everest. Right. She just didn’t like him. Much. She breathed out a long sigh, her breath steaming and vaporizing in front of her face.
Desperate. Her mind repeated the word over and over. She was thirty-eight years old. What if she didn’t have time to start over at square one? Raindrops pattered the taut fabric of the black umbrella, the rhythmic sound echoing loudly in her domed shelter.
After a few more minutes of thought, she headed back into John’s club with an angrily muttered “Double dammit,” under her breath. She was about to climb the stairs when she was hailed from behind. She turned to see John’s friend, the huge black guy he’d been working out with, the same man from the Extravaganza, waving her over from the front desk
.
“Are you looking for John?” the man asked. She nodded. “He just went into the locker room. I can get him for you.”
Sam gave a thin smile. “Thanks.”
“Alex Drake,” he said, extending his hand.
Her pale fingers disappeared beneath his dark ones. “Sam Rossi.”
He grinned. “I know.” He had taken a few steps toward the locker room when the receptionist called after him, saying he had a phone call. He circled the desk to take it and met Sam’s gaze. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “This might take a minute.” She nodded, hoping her impatience didn’t show.
One minute turned into five. Finally, Alex mouthed the word, “Sorry,” while continuing to listen to whomever was on the other line.
Sam made a quick decision and marched toward the men’s locker room. She would just go in there before she changed her mind again.
Sam ignored shocked expressions and bare bodies as she walked past the rows of lockers and wooden benches. The smell of sweat mingled with the clean scent of soap and deodorant. As she moved through the large room, her shoes clicking on the wet tiles, some men openly gawked while others scampered to cover themselves.
The showers were at the opposite end of the room and that’s where she found John. He stepped over the threshold separating the shower facilities from the dressing area, his head down. He was wrapping a white club-issue towel around himself, looped low over his hips. Had she been a second earlier, she would have seen—
“Sam?”
Her gaze darted up from where she’d been staring. She resisted the urge to lick her lips.
“You’re in the men’s locker room,” John said, his voice colored with amusement.
“Gee, I hadn’t noticed. Do you have a minute?”
He spread his arms wide and the towel shifted on his hips, and for a moment — a hold-your-breath kind of moment — she thought it might fall to the floor. “I’m all yours,” he said with a grin.
She ignored the innuendo and did her best not to stare. His was the most beautiful body she’d ever seen. His chest was broad and looked chiseled from stone, not an ounce of fat on it or his six-pack of abs. Dark blond hair fuzzed his pecs and tapered into a V that disappeared like a path into the waistband of his towel. Her mouth grew parched.
How could she be this attracted to someone she really didn’t like all that much?
She forced her mind to her purpose for being here. She glanced around, seeing no one was close enough to overhear their conversation if she kept her voice low. The sight of other men in various state of undress didn’t phase her. The sight of John Everest half-naked, however, did.
She clenched her hands into fists to still their trembling, then cleared her throat. “Look, Everest. I’ll make this brief. I thought about your, uh, suggestion. And… okay.” Good Lord, she’d really done it now.
A corner of John’s mouth twitched and his smile faltered a bit, or was it her imagination? Before he could say something and turn this thing around to suit his purposes, she added, “You’ll need to fill out a questionnaire I’ve prepared — you know, your sexual history, your medical history, and your family’s. Stuff like that. I’ll bring it by tomorrow. And you’ll need to get some blood tests.”
“Whoa there a minute!” He held up a hand.
“I know it’s a lot of work, but I need to be sure you’re healthy.”
“I understand, but I… don’t know that I’ll help you.”
“What? I thought you said—”
“I said if you agreed to doing it my way, I’d agree to think about it.”
Sam felt a big thud in the pit of her stomach. Was he just playing word games with her? She thought this would be a slam dunk, that a man of his caliber would have no problem with her proposal, especially since she was willing to — gulp — sleep with him. But he was going to turn her down. After all this. “You have to think about it,” she repeated almost dazedly.
“Samantha, you’re asking me to father a child. That’s not something to take lightly or to make a split decision about.”
“But I’ve already told you you’d have no responsibility for the baby—”
“Yes. I know. But I still need to think about it, okay? To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect you to go along with my, uh, suggestion, so I’m not prepared to make a decision about this right now.”
“You’re not going to help me, are you?” she asked in a flat voice.
He glanced away a moment. “I told you, I’ll think about it.” But his equally flat tone told Sam everything. His answer would be no.
Chapter 6
“Shit,” Alex said, scratching his chin.
“Yeah,” John said.
“I guess she hasn’t connected you to that night yet, then.” Alex propped his foot on the wooden bench between the rows of lockers and rested a forearm on his knee. He’d come into the locker room after seeing Sam leave.
“Apparently not.”
“You going to clue her in?”
“She already dislikes me. Why add fuel to the flame?”
“She can’t dislike you too much if she asked you to help her have a kid.”
John shrugged.
“Why is she so desperate for a baby?”
John tied his shoes. “I didn’t ask — she caught me a bit off guard, you know? But if I had to wager a guess, I’d imagine it has something to do with the proverbial biological clock.”
“But why go it alone?”
“Beats me. She obviously has it in for men.”
“One of those, huh? You should hook her up with Margo.”
“Wise-ass.” John shoved his sweaty gym clothes into his bag. He stood and adjusted the long strap over his shoulder. “She told me she doesn’t want to marry again.”
“And neither do you. It’s a match made in heaven.”
John made a face at him. “Sure, except for two things: she’s Sammy Jo and she wants a kid. You know how I feel about that, Drake.”
A look passed between the longtime friends. “Yeah, I know how you feel about that,” Alex said quietly. He cleared his throat. “So, how’d you tell her you won’t help her?”
John leaned back against his locker. “I haven’t.”
“What? You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Alex’s expression had disbelief written all over it. “John-Boy, that goes against everything you—”
John held up a hand. “You don’t have to tell me that. If she were anyone else, I would have definitely said ‘no’ on the spot. But… I feel I at least owe her some time to think about it.”
“Do you really have to think about it?”
John let out a loud breath and met his friend’s eyes. “No.”
A few minutes later they headed out of the locker room. “What’s with women these days?” Alex asked. “Aren’t there any old-fashioned ones left who want to get married and have families?”
John patted his broad back. “There’s someone out there for you, Alex. Mark my words.” They stopped at the front desk to check their messages.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think you just get one shot at it and I blew mine.”
“You’re talking about Lori?” John asked, flipping through the short stack of papers in his slot.
“She was the best thing that ever happened to me and I screwed it up.”
“You were just a kid. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah, I probably would’ve just messed up her life, too.”
John didn’t say anything, but he worried not for the first time his friend was setting himself up to fail with other women based on a teenage relationship. He compared everyone he went out with to this Lori person, a woman he hadn’t seen in nearly eighteen years.
One of these days Alex would be swept off his feet and then he’d forget about that silly high school crush.
“He hasn’t said ‘no’ yet,” Nina remarked.
With the hand not holding the phone, Sam remov
ed the whistling tea kettle from the burner. “You weren’t there, Nina. He’s not going to help me.” She picked up the tea bag from the counter and tore open the package with her teeth, then dropped the bag into the waiting cup.
“Well, maybe he’ll change his mind once he thinks about it.” Nina, forever the optimist.
“I doubt it,” Sam said, pouring boiling water into the mug. “He acted so weird about the whole thing. One minute he was all cocky and a smartass, the next minute he was looking at me like I’d sprouted horns.”
Nina cleared her throat delicately. “You have to admit, it is a rather unconventional request.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that I figured he’d—” She didn’t finish the thought.
“You thought he’d be glad to help, since most men will do just about anything for you.” Nina said it without a trace of judgment or censure in her voice.
“Well, men like him.”
“Maybe he’s different than you thought.”
“Doubtful.” Then, on the same breath, “Did I tell you he kissed me?” She kept her voice light.
“What? When?”
“On his yacht.”
“That was last week. How come you didn’t tell me?”
Sam shrugged, though her friend couldn’t see the gesture over the wires. “I’m telling you now.” She picked up her tea and headed for the breakfast table.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“You know exactly what. Was it awful?” When Sam didn’t immediately answer, Nina blurted, “Oh, my God. You liked it, didn’t you?”
“It was okay.” Now there’s an understatement.
“Liar.” Nina giggled.
Sam felt the need to explain herself. “Well, I had to know if there was any chemistry there. I mean, he said the only way he’d consider helping me is by sleeping with me, so—”
“You are so full of it, Sam Rossi. You kissed him days before he’d ever suggested that. I know for a fact you hadn’t considered that route. You specifically told me and Zach you were looking for a donor, as in getting a specimen. Remember how you embarrassed Zach when you started to explain about the syringe?”