Baby Be Mine

by Rosie Praks

  “What is going on here?”

  Winton turned to the voice and there was the CEO of the hotel, all serious-looking, Anton Silverton. Winton tried unwinding the arms of the beautiful creature, but she was like a leech, sucking him until he was out of energy.

  The woman turned to the man and ran her eyes down the length of his body. Smiling as she saw the man who interrupted her, wearing a suit that was not as expensive as this gentleman with the growing potbelly, she assumed immediately that he must be the underling of Mr. Potbelly.

  “I’m here to see Hunter,” she announced. “Are you the secretary here? Please bring Hunter to me,” she instructed.

  Anton almost gaped in horror at the sight of the woman before him. She was like the devil, dressed all in red with red sharp claws and lips that were so scarlet it hurt his eyes to look at. And the gall of her to even assume he was a secretary.

  “I…” Anton couldn’t pretend to speak; in fact, he was that speechless.

  “I would like to speak with Hunter.” She came to stand in front of Anton and with her heels, her head was level with his.

  Eye to eye, nose to nose, and lips to lips, Anton couldn’t help feeling a slight thump in the rhythm of his heart. There was no denying there was some sort of electric shock running through his being.

  Fern cocked her head to one side. This man, why was he not having any reaction to her? He looked so serious and still, like a mannequin.

  Anton couldn’t take his eyesight off this woman; he just couldn’t. So he continued to stare at her, putting on his serious and businesslike face.

  “What in the grasshopper is going on?” came Clinton Silverton’s booming voice, breaking the two’s eye contact.

  The red-haired woman gracefully turned her head to look at the old man, which in turn made her coppery mane sway past Anton’s face, and he couldn’t help sucking in her sweet, exotic scent. When she saw the man with the silvery grey hair and the Armani suit, with the round chin and chubby cheeks, Fern knew immediately who this person was.

  “Are you by any chance Senior Silverton?” she went to ask Clinton, grabbing both of his hands to hold within hers. “You look just like him in the magazine.”

  Clinton was a bit awestruck. “Yes, I am. And you, my dear—cough—beauty, who are you?” he asked, also struck by her attractiveness.

  The woman smiled at the three men before her.

  “My name is Fern Kensington.” She indicated herself. “And I’m pregnant with Hunter, your son.”

  Clinton Silverton almost collapsed, Anton looked so shocked that he couldn’t even utter a single word, and Winton’s motivation to lose those extra pounds deflated like a helium balloon.

  “You did what?” Hunter stared at the woman before him, who was busy giggling on the couch. “Fern, stop laughing. I’m being serious here,” he yelled.

  “Oh, Hunter darling, please stop yelling at me. What a way to welcome your beautiful best friend from America.” She giggled again, brushing him off.

  “Best friend my ass. Why the hell did you tell that kind of joke to my family? You know Dad almost had an aneurism.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. Stop being mad. Are you still upset because I wouldn’t visit you sooner? Hummmm?” She wound her arm around Hunter’s neck, bringing him closer. “And would you remove your sunglasses? I want to see you.”

  “I’m not upset with you. You’re like my long-lost sister,” Hunter muttered. “And no, I will not remove my glasses.”

  “I thought so. This long-lost sister of yours does apologize. I didn’t mean to make everyone so upset. But please do remove your glasses. It’s like I can’t even tell if I’m talking to you.”

  “You have to go and apologize. And no, for the last time, I am not going to remove these glasses,” Hunter said, straightening his sunglasses again.

  “Why not?” Fern asked, moving to remove those glasses, but Hunter backed away fast, preventing her from doing so.

  “Look, would you just go apologize?” Hunter said, a little upset. “You’ve caused a commotion in the workplace, and it will not dissipate until you go and apologize.”

  “Okay,” Fern said finally. “I will go to apologize. It’s to Senior Silverton, isn’t it?” she asked. When Hunter nodded his head, she smiled. “Of course, for you, my darling, I will do anything.”

  Fern was about midway to the door when Hunter’s added comment froze her on the spot.

  “And Anton.”

  “What? No, no. Not that mannequin,” Fern grumbled, coming back to the couch and sitting down.

  “Mannequin?” Hunter asked, wondering whom Fern was referring to.

  “Yes. The mannequin,” Fern said, explaining her serious dislike of Anton. “You didn’t see it, Hunter darling, but he was the only man there that didn’t drool or bat an eyelid at me. Even Senior Silverton commented on how beautiful I was, but that mannequin, that mannequin… my beauty didn’t affect him. I’m very disappointed.”

  “For the first time, you realize your beauty will not affect all men.”

  “You, my darling, are excused since you are my best friend,” she said while gesturing to herself, “but that mannequin… I can’t let it go. He hurt my ego.”

  “You sure have a huge ego, Fern.”

  “Not as huge as yours, Hunter darling,” she replied, then smirked as if interested to see what he’d been up to since the last time they meet. “Tell me, how many have you bedded lately, my darling Casanova?”

  “None,” Hunter confessed, nudging his sunglasses again.

  “None?” Fern uttered in shock. “What do you mean none? You’re like the number one Casanova from our university days.”

  “I can’t seem to get it up these days,” Hunter confessed quietly, but Fern had excellent hearing so she was able to pick it up.

  “Really? Why? Wait! Does this have something to do with why you’re wearing the sunglasses?” Fern asked.

  “Well, you could say that.” Hunter began his pathetic story. “I had this experience with this mysterious goddess once, and now I can’t seem to sleep with anyone else.”

  “Was she really that good?”

  “Beyond anything you can imagine,” Hunter said gloomily.

  “Since she’s that good, why are you feeling so down? Why don’t you ask her to be your girlfriend, then? That way you can sleep with her every night.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s the mysterious goddess, that’s why. I don’t even know her name or where she is now. Hell, we had sex once and then she just left me. I tried searching for her everywhere, but I can’t seem to find her.”

  Hunter didn’t want to tell Fern that his ailment was also due to Clarice, the avocado. Both the avocado and his goddess were doing his head in.

  Fern came to sit beside Hunter and began rubbing his back like she always did when Hunter was upset.

  “Have you hired a private detective? I know some really good ones.”

  “I did, but none could help me. Apparently, they’re still searching for the woman.”

  “Poor Hunter darling.” Fern hugged her friend then. “I guess she doesn’t want you to find her. Maybe she just wanted a one-night stand with you. You know, since you’re all hot and everything.”

  “I guess so but… arrrggggg,” Hunter growled and ruffled his hair even more in frustration. “I just can’t sleep. I’ve tried sleeping, but I just can’t. It’s like this woman put a curse on me. I slept with her once and now I can’t sleep ever again. I feel if I don’t get to sleep with her again, I might die of insomnia. And if I do manage to sleep, I dream of her. That’s why I have all these dark shadows under my eyes.” Hunter tore the sunglasses off his face, exposing the many bags and bags of dark shadows underneath his eyes that he was trying to hide.

  Fern let out a shudder.

  “Oh, poor Hunter baby,” Fern said, then went to sit on his lap and examined his eyes.

  “You do have bags under your
eyes. They could hold many lollies,” Fern said, trying to cheer up her friend.

  “Fern, my eyes can’t hold lollies,” he said, getting annoyed. Why must she tease him like back in their university days? He was starting to get really upset and annoyed. He wasn’t an immature guy like before. He’d changed. He thought.

  “I’m sorry. I just want to cheer you up.” She smiled, then gently touched his eyes. “But still, having these bags, you can’t go around like this. What happens if someone sees you? You’d be tainted for life.”

  “I know. That’s why I’ve been wearing those glasses. Then Dad yelled at me to come to the hotel, saying it was a life and death situation. You know I had to take the back stairs so no one could recognize me. I feel like a criminal coming to steal something from my own hotel.”

  “Ha-ha. Poor Hunter. It must have been tiring trying to escape from all the employees who know you.” Fern laughed. “But it doesn’t matter now. I’m here to help. I have this eye cream that just came out. I’ll give some to you. You just need to apply the eye cream on these spots here if you don’t want to have more ba—”

  “Ahem.”

  There was a clearing of the throat sound at the door, which alerted both Hunter and Fern, turning their gazes toward the sound. There stood Anton Silverton, his eyes sharp as he took in the sight of his playboy of a cousin and the provocative woman sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck. Somehow his heart was beating fast and he wasn’t sure why, but it must be seeing that unpleasant scene before him.

  “Hunter, Uncle needs to see you.” He spoke sharply, then turned on his heel and left.

  “Did you see that, Hunter?” Fern asked her friend. “That mannequin looked scary and he didn’t even look at me when I was sitting on your lap. He’s really bruising my ego here,” she whined again.

  “Fern, maybe you should go and apologize to him,” Hunter said, lifting her up. “I think you should clear up the misunderstanding. Anton is a very traditional man, after all. He’s not like me. He doesn’t like to see skin.”

  “Skin?” Fern looked at Hunter in confusion.

  “Yes, skin.” And he looked at her revealing clothing.

  “Oh, skin.” Fern nodded in understanding.

  “Knock! Knock!” Fern said, then opened the door without permission. “I’m here to see you,” she announced.

  “Is there anything you need?” Anton asked indifferently, surprised when he heard a musical voice instead of the sound of knocking, followed by the opening of his door.

  Fern stood like she owned the place, then came to perch her elegant bottom on the swivel chair facing Anton. With one hand underneath her chin, elbow resting upon Anton’s desk, she glanced at him through her thick eyelashes, putting on her best seductive smile, and said, “I am here to apologize for playing a joke on you.” She glanced up to observe the effect her voice had on him.

  Anton didn’t even bat an eye. His face was as impassive as ever before. It looked like he was stone cold. Fern tried even harder to get the man to react to her beauty.

  “I apologize again. Would you be willing to grant me a private audience at noon? I can buy you lunch.”

  Anton would have to react now since Fern had never had to use this tactic before. In all of her life, she had never had to lift a finger to get any man to react to her, but this one was proving to be a challenge. No matter, she could handle anything. A bit of a challenge was nothing to freak out about.

  Anton, who just listened to Fern talk, couldn’t believe she had the gall to ask him out. He disliked this kind of woman. What was his cousin thinking hanging out with a woman like that? But the more he looked at her, the more he couldn’t suppress his beating heart.

  But he disliked her. He disliked the way she behaved, the way she wore that flimsy material that barely covered her skin. He just wanted to grab a blanket out of the first aid cupboard and wrap it around her. Even if she died due to the suffocation, at least it was better than to die with the humiliation of having that much skin exposed for the male species to feast their eyes on. Even he, Anton Silverton, who was usually unaffected by anything, was starting to feel a niggling sensation running up his spine. God help him, but the more he looked at her form, the more she resembled a fiery goddess out to seduce all men on Earth. But Anton vowed to himself that he was not going to be one of them.

  “Well, Anton? What do you say? Would you grant this beautiful girl her request?” she asked, staring at him alluringly.

  Anton turned away but accidently caught her sight, in turn, locking their eyes together for a split second, but by God, he almost suffocated from the lack of oxygen in his lungs, just from that gaze. But he composed himself. His ideal type of woman was Clarice Mason. She was the epitome of beauty, sensible and unique. She would make a splendid mother to his baby and a fine wife for him. He’d already made up his mind to woo her. This reminded him that he must phone her for the meeting since it had been a week already since he’d gotten back from Queenstown. Regarding this fiery woman though, sitting in front of him, smiling like she was about to seduce him, he had to control himself. And so he said, “Sorry, but I have a meeting.”

  “Well, how about dinner? I can wait,” she asked sweetly.

  God, that musical voice. It was driving him insane.

  “I have work to do,” he said.

  “You’re so busy, Anton. When are you going to have time for me so I can apologize to you properly?”

  “Listen. I accept your apology. So can you leave when you’re done?”

  “Are you asking me to leave?” she uttered in surprised. No one had ever asked her to leave before. NO ONE. This man was proving to be more than a challenge, but she must venture forward if she were to save her face and regain her ego.

  “Yes.”

  “Anton?” Fern came around to sit herself on Anton’s desk, right beside where he was typing on his computer, her short skirt riding up so high it exposed her bare legs. Anton couldn’t help but fidget in his chair when his eyes saw her sitting in this position.

  Fern was smirking and decided to up her game a bit more so Anton would come begging for her forgiveness. And so she draped her arms around his neck and said, “How can you treat me like this? I’m wounded.”

  “Look!” Anton shouted. He’d had enough of this nonsense. He shoved her arms from him and stood up to his full height. He was definitely sure now that he wouldn’t get any work done with this creature disturbing his mind. “It’s unrespectable for a woman of your age to dress and drape your arms around men like that if you have no designs on them. I don’t care what your relationship is with my cousin, but to spout out lines like you’re pregnant with him just so you could surprise him is definitely not appropriate. I am telling you this as an older brother would. Stop behaving this way. It’s you who will end up being tainted.”

  “Anton!” Fern stood immediately to the insult that Anton imparted upon her. “How dare you criticize my behavior? I am nothing but true to my feelings around the people I love.”

  “True to your feelings?” Anton couldn’t believe he was behaving like this. Where was his quiet and businesslike demeanor, the one that always uses logical reasoning to handle everything? He didn’t know, but he guessed his other personality might have just flown out the window now. This woman needed someone to kick her in the backside. “You were hugging Winton when I arrived, and then you sat on Hunter’s lap. And now you drape your arms around me and tell me your actions just reflect your true love for the people around you? How is that appropriate?”

  “I, I…” Fern didn’t know how to respond. This man was beyond a challenge for her. He was… was…

  “Look, if you’re done with your apology, then leave,” Anton instructed, then went back to his computer, typing away furiously, his hands shaking at this sudden confrontation.

  Good God, he just had his first verbal fight with a female and it sure felt good.

  “Anton,” Fern shrieked, but Anton didn’t give heed to her o
utburst as his eyes continued to clue to the screen.

  “Ugggggh,” Fern screamed, fuming by the time she left Anton’s office. “I swear I’ll make you look at me. In fact, even beg for my love. Just you wait and see.”

  Chapter 20

  “Hunter, my darling Hunter,” that musical voice sang sweetly to him. “Come to me, Hunter. I’m waiting for you. I’m waiting for you to see me, to see only me. Come to me, Hunter. I’m waiting for you.”

  It was his mysterious goddess. She was calling out to him again with her sweet, seductive voice that never failed to lure him in, like a wasp to nectar.

  He was in the woods, running up to catch her. All around him, the scent of pine trees and orange blossoms intoxicated his nose. The sky was so blue and the wind blew a nice gentle breeze, cooling his already drenched skin.

  He could see her in the near distance, her long black hair tossing behind her, those long strains cascading in the wind. He reached his hands out, his fingers only millimeters away from the silk of her white scarf that floated behind her, when she turned around the bend and skipped away. She hid behind a tree, her face partially hidden from his view, trying to catch a glimpse of him as he was running to get to her. A single giggle escaped her lips, and then she ran off again before disappearing deeper into the thick of the woods.

  “You’re too slow, Hunter.” He heard her voice echoing in the scenic forest. “Run faster. Find me, Hunter.”

  He tried to run as fast as possible to catch up to her while she skipped at her own slow, melodic pace, but no matter how fast he sprinted, he was never able to catch up.

  He wanted her; he wanted to catch her. He wanted to be with her. His heart was telling him he needed to catch up to her, so it thumped faster to keep pace with the speed of his feet. Then he came to a clearing, a beautiful meadow dotted with a few trees and lots of lush flowers.

  There she was, sitting on a swing made of vines, with her back to him. He walked silently toward her and crouched down. Wrapping his arms around the small of her waist, he nestled his head in her soft scented hair, inhaling the orange blossom and pine that was driving his desire.