The Pregnancy Contract

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know how much Dad meant to you, how close the two of you were. It must have been tough for you.”

  Wade looked at her, genuine surprise on his face. “Thank you,” he answered.

  There were fine lines of strain around his slate gray eyes that had never been there before. He looked thoroughly worn out.

  “Did he suffer?”

  Wade shook his head sharply. “Only inasmuch as he couldn’t do what he wanted to do. The medical staff worked hard to keep him comfortable. He stayed here, at home, right to the end. We installed a hospital bed in the morning room and he had round-the-clock professional care.”

  “Thank you for being there for him.”

  “He’d have done it for me,” Wade answered simply. “Besides, there was no place else I would rather have been.”

  And there it was again. The subtle slap. The reminder that she hadn’t been there. Piper clamped down on her instinctive need to justify herself, her choices, her behavior. She was past that now. There was no way she could turn back time and rewrite history, but she could make a new beginning and that started here and now.

  “I’m really grateful to know that he had you there. It must have meant a lot him. He always respected you.”

  “The feeling was mutual.”

  “So what happens now with the company?”

  “What do you mean?” Wade looked surprised that she’d even asked.

  “Well, you know, without Dad at the helm. Will everything be okay?”

  “Yes, everything will be fine. Rex and I had a stable management plan in place before we knew he wasn’t going to beat the cancer. I basically took over operations about a year and a half ago.”

  “Really?” Piper was surprised. “He let go that early?”

  “It was a case of having to. The treatments, both here and overseas, left him pretty wiped out. But he maintained a keen interest in everything almost until the end. You know what Rex was like.”

  And where had she been a year and a half ago? Somalia? No, Kenya. She’d been helping at a women’s clinic there. After that had been flood relief in Asia, then volunteering to help reconnect victims with their families after an earthquake in another devastated land. Everywhere but where she’d really needed to be. The one place where she should have made a difference.

  Piper was suddenly hit with a massive weariness. She fought back a yawn and failed miserably.

  “Still tired?” Wade asked.

  “Yeah, when I got here I’d been traveling for about thirty-six hours. I don’t think my body clock has caught up with the fact that I’m stationary yet.”

  “Why don’t you go on up to your room? I’ll get Mrs. Dexter to bring you a tray if you’re hungry.”

  Despite all her good intentions, Piper bristled. This was her home, so who’d appointed him to the role of gracious host? If anything she should be offering him her hospitality under her father’s roof. Reminding herself of her determination to be a better person, she swallowed the retort that hovered on the tip of her tongue. Instead she unfolded herself from the chair and stood up.

  “Don’t bother Dexie. I’ll grab something from the kitchen on my way up.”

  She stretched slowly, easing out muscles that had been unused for far too long with all the travel she’d endured. She halted midstretch, suddenly aware of Wade’s eyes locked onto her body. A long-suppressed, yet still familiar, tingle started deep inside and tendrils of heat began to unfurl from her core, radiating out to her extremities. She swallowed against the lump of tension that formed in her throat.

  That old attraction was still there. Just as strong as ever. Did he feel the same way, too? Her eyes met his—for a moment seeing the same heat that had infused her body and now painted a faint flush against her suddenly warm cheeks. Then in an instant his eyes were the cool gray of indifference that had met her at the front door only a couple hours ago.

  Stung by the clear rejection, Piper summoned every last ounce of dignity and offered him her hand.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done today.”

  Wade stood, his six feet two inches eclipsing her barefooted five feet eight. He took her hand in a brief clasp.

  “I did it for Rex.”

  “I know that, and I appreciate it. Really.”

  He let go her hand as if the idea of holding it for a moment longer than necessary was abhorrent to him.

  “Well,” she said, gathering courage to her like a cloak, “I’ll see you out and then I think I’ll have an early night. No doubt I’ll have plenty to do with the legal side of things tomorrow.”

  When Wade didn’t make a move for the door, she speared him with a glance. “Is there something else you wanted to discuss?”

  A slow smile, somewhat lacking in humor, spread across his handsome face.

  “No,” he replied. “I’ll say good-night, then.”

  She watched as he left the room, but rather than heading toward the front vestibule he turned and made for the sweeping staircase that led to the upper floor.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To my room.”

  “To your room?”

  His response was short and sweet. “I live here.”

  “Look, I appreciate that you probably stayed here for a while with Dad but that’s not necessary now and, quite frankly, I’d really appreciate a bit of space and privacy to come to terms with everything.”

  “No problem. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

  His answer left her baffled. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I think you heard me, Piper. Despite your current appearance I’m sure you’re not entirely stupid.”

  “How dare you!”

  Better person be damned. That was quite enough. She’d already had to bear facing Wade for the first time since she had left him, not to mention hearing the news about her father’s death. She wasn’t about to stay and listen to him put her down, too.

  “Look,” she sputtered. “I think we both know there’s enough history between us that your staying here is not a good idea.”

  “Probably.” He shrugged. “But I think you may have misunderstood what I meant when I said I live here. Piper, I own the house. You’re here as my guest.”

  Two

  “You what?”

  He owned the house? How could that be? The house had been built by her forebears in the mid-1800s. Passed on, generation by generation. Had Wade somehow finagled the property from her father while he was weakened by his illness? It seemed unlike him, but what else was she to think? His voice broke through her chaotic thoughts.

  “Look, now probably isn’t the best time to go into it. It’s been a tough day all round. We can discuss this tomorrow.”

  “Like hell,” she countered. “We can darn well discuss this right here, right now.”

  “If you insist,” Wade said, closing the distance between them and gesturing toward the library. “Care to take a seat?”

  With tension vibrating through every nerve in her body, Piper preceded him back into the room. She threw herself into the chair she’d only recently vacated, watching Wade as he lowered himself into his with far more elegance and grace than she’d exhibited. It only served to rankle even more.

  “So, tell me. How is it you’ve come to be the owner of my father’s house, and his before him, and his bef—”

  Wade cut in. “Don’t get melodramatic on me, Piper. It won’t work.”

  Melodramatic? He thought that was melodramatic? That was nothing compared to how she felt right now. But before she could speak again, Wade continued.

  “Your father and I came to a financial arrangement early on in his illness. The doctors here could offer little hope and he wanted to embark on some radical alternative therapy being offered overseas.”

  “What kind of arrangement?” she demanded. “And why on earth did he have to come to any kind of arrangement, anyway? Our family has always had money.”

  �
�Had being the operative word,” Wade said, lifting his eyes to clash with hers.

  “What? You’re blaming me? I have my own trust fund. I was never a drain on my father’s finances.”

  Wade’s lips thinned and she saw a muscle clench in his jaw before he pushed a hand through his dark brown hair, sending the short cut into charming disarray. Despite her anger, her fingers itched to smooth his hair down—to feel if its texture was as smooth as she remembered it to be. Piper curled her fingers into her palms and squeezed tightly, ridding herself of the urge as quickly as it had surfaced. This wasn’t the time to be thinking of any kind of touching.

  “Not everything is about you, Piper. When you calm down, you’ll see that what we did was supposed to be for the best, at the time.”

  “At the time? Explain it to me.”

  “Rex was single-minded about beating the disease and wouldn’t take no for an answer, not even when his situation was very clearly laid out to him by his doctors. He was determined to fight, regardless of the cost—and the cost was very high. I’ve no idea what rock you’ve been hiding under for the past eight years but there has been a global recession out there. Our business was hit just as hard as everyone else’s. Despite everything, there was a stage where we were bleeding money and Rex used a lot of his own funds to shore that up.”

  “You didn’t use yours?” she asked pointedly.

  “He wouldn’t let me. Mitchell Exports was always his baby, you know that.”

  She probably knew it better than anyone. She’d always known that Rex’s devotion to his business came well before his devotion to her.

  “So he needed money for this treatment?” she probed.

  “Yes, and he wouldn’t take the money from me, even though I offered it freely. He was, however, happy to enter into a loan agreement with me, registering a mortgage in my name over the property.”

  “But this place is worth millions.”

  “He was very determined to live, Piper. He was prepared to pay whatever it took to beat the disease. At that stage, he never believed for a minute that he wouldn’t live to pay me back.”

  “And he knew you already loved the property and would look after it.”

  Wade nodded slowly. “It was a more palatable solution for him than putting it on the open market to raise the funds, and seeing the land be gobbled up by developers, or risking borrowing the money through some financial institution and watching it go in a mortgagee sale if the treatment failed. When he knew he was going to die, he signed the property over to me in its entirety, provided he had a lifetime right to stay here. I had no problem with that.”

  Piper blinked back a new rush of tears. What Wade had said all sounded plausible. She knew how much her father had trusted Wade. Moreover, she knew—just as her father had known—how hard Wade’s upbringing had been, how much he had wanted to prove he was better than his roots. If he’d been given the chance to demonstrate his friendship to Rex while simultaneously establishing himself in both the home and the business he’d always admired, then of course Wade had taken it. He was right to have taken it. But knowing that didn’t take away the sick sense of loss Piper felt at the evidence that her father had given his entire legacy away to someone other than her.

  If she’d been more determined to prove to her father that she was just as good as the son he’d always dreamed of having, if she’d stood by his side through the hard times instead of running away as soon as she didn’t get her way, maybe she’d have been able to help him. But with her having remained overseas for as long as she had, often without any contact until she’d run out of money, again, and needed another advance from her funds, it was no wonder her father had sought a suitable custodian not only for his business but also for the house.

  It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. She’d never known another home and now she couldn’t even call it hers anymore. Hopelessness hit her with a vengeance. Here she was, twenty-eight years old, no fixed abode, no job and no prospects. Sure, she still had her trust fund, but she didn’t want to dip into that unless absolutely necessary. What on earth was she going to do?

  “I meant what I said before, Piper,” Wade said, his voice breaking into her tortured thoughts. “Rex asked me to look out for you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

  As long as she needed? How was she to know how long that was? She’d come back to New Zealand, back home, to restore the relationships she’d damaged so very badly with her selfish decisions and past behaviors. The past four years, volunteering with aid relief in less privileged countries, had been a major eye-opener. One that had systematically changed her focus and made her realize just how empty her life had been and how much she continued to owe the people who’d been a part of it. People who she’d only later realized had tried to give her the love and stability she’d always craved. People she’d cast off in her anger and hurt for not loving her the way she’d wanted, oblivious to the fact that she was hurting them with her actions, too. People like her father, and Wade.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  What else was there to say? She was at his mercy. He had every right to turn her out of the house.

  “If there’s nothing else, I’ll say good-night,” Wade answered.

  He rose from his seat and started to leave the room, hesitating a moment at the door as if he had something more to say. But then, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he continued into the hallway.

  Around her, Piper heard the wooden timbers of the hundred-and-sixty-year-old home settle in the cooling night air. A sound she’d never even stopped to listen to before, yet a sound that was a solid reminder of all who’d been before her and left their mark on her world. Their expectations lay heavy in the atmosphere that filled the room. What mark had she left?

  The emptiness around her invaded the hollows of her body and echoed through to her soul.

  Nothing. She’d left nothing.

  She drew a shaky breath deep into her lungs. Then another. She’d made a conscious choice to change her life. No one ever said it was going to be easy or that she’d have all the things at her disposal that she’d always taken for granted. Maybe this was one of the lessons she needed to learn along the way. Take nothing, and no one, for granted.

  Piper moved down the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the faded carpet runner that lined the polished wooden floor. She hesitated outside the morning room, unsure of what she’d find there. What remnants of her father’s illness and care from during his last days would linger? And what of the hospital bed and equipment Wade had said they’d set up in here?

  She wasn’t surprised he’d chosen this room. It had purportedly been her mother’s favorite. Not that she remembered her mother beyond a vague sense of being enveloped in soft arms and being showered with butterfly kisses. Sometimes, as a child, she’d come in here and curl up on a chair with her eyes shut tight—trying to gain a sense of the woman who’d borne her. But try as she might, she had never felt any more than that elusive memory.

  Her hand hovered over the brass doorknob until with a sudden resolution, she closed her fingers around the cold metal and gave it a twist. The door swung open before her revealing a room unchanged from the last time she’d seen it.

  The chaise longue still resided in front of the French doors that opened onto the wraparound veranda. The side tables and comfortable furniture she remembered as far back as her childhood were all still there.

  She sniffed the air carefully. No, not a hint of hospital or illness, or death, remained. It was as if her father had never been in here at all.

  A solid lump of grief built in her throat as she stepped back and closed the door again. She desperately wanted some connection with him. Some proof that despite everything he’d still loved her.

  Noises from the kitchen at the back of the house reminded her that Dexter and his wife were hard at work cleaning up after her father’s wake. She should go to them. Offer to help. But the need to be alone
with her thoughts was stronger. She turned and made her way back along the hallway and then up the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the next floor.

  Rex’s room had been at the opposite side of the house from hers. When her mother had died when Piper was three, he’d hired a nanny who’d slept in the room next to hers. But he’d kept his distance for many years, physically, emotionally and socially. It was only when she’d begun to bring certificates of achievement home from school that he’d really begun to acknowledge her existence, spurring her to do better, reach higher—whatever it took to garner his approval.

  But that approval was always short-lived as his work took the bulk of his attention. She’d always wanted for him to see her as more than a child to be spoiled, her every whim indulged. She’d wanted him to acknowledge that she had a brain, that she could achieve, even that she might be worthy one day of working with him in the family business as he would have expected a son to do. Instead, no matter how high she flew academically, it was as if her achievements never really mattered to him. After that, behaving like the spoiled little princess he expected had become second nature—in fact, she’d almost turned it into an art form. For all the good it did her.

  Piper bypassed her own room and headed toward the rooms that had been his. The door to his suite was open. She stepped into her father’s domain and was instantly enveloped by his personality. The room was neat and tidy, typical of the ordered way he’d liked things, but here and there were the memories she’d always associated with him. The books he had loved to read, the sweets he had kept in a porcelain jar beside the bed for “just in case.”

  Pulling open his wardrobe, Piper was assailed with the faint reminder of the cologne he’d always worn. She reached for the dressing gown that hung on the hook on the back of the door and dragged it to her, burying her face in the velvet softness of the fabric and inhaling deeply.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She spun around to see Wade framed in the doorway, the light from the hall behind him, leaving his face in shadow. He looked as if he was in the process of getting undressed. Gone were his jacket and tie. His shirt buttons were now open halfway down his chest, his shirt untucked from the sharply creased trousers that encased his long legs, the cuffs undone and loose around his strong wrists.