The Baby Interview

by Robbie Terman

  "Good to know. She is still welcome to come. More than welcome.” He licked his lips with appreciation.

  Cole clenched his hands into fists. If Garrett so much as looked at Lucy again, Cole was going to pound his face into the ground. Hell, he might do it anyway just for enjoyment.

  Luckily for Garrett, he chose another topic for his next sentence. Unluckily for Cole, it was about the one person he didn't want to think about.

  "I saw Pam last weekend,” Garrett mentioned casually, as if Cole gave a rat's ass where his ex-wife was.

  "Oh, really?” His voice sounded breezy, the exact opposite of how he felt. Just the mere mention of Pam brought forth enough anger and resentment to energize the entire city of Detroit.

  "We were staying on the same floor at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York,” Garrett continued, oblivious to Cole's uninterested tone. “Man, she looked like a million bucks."

  Ten million, actually, though Cole didn't say it out loud. Ten million dollars because he was too stupid to ask for a prenuptial agreement. Because he had to prove his parents wrong and ignored their advice. It was the worst, most expensive lesson of his life. It was one he would never forget. And never repeat.

  Cole glanced at Lucy, who was laughing at something his secretary said, her face lit. Despite all her protests, she looked good in his world, like she belonged. Just the way Pam had before she'd broken his heart and made him a fool.

  No, it wouldn't happen again. Because this time, he knew how to play the game.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  Lucy walked away from Cole's secretary, Darcy, and let out the deep breath she'd been holding since she walked through the front door. She had made it through the throng of Donovan Group employees without embarrassing herself or making Cole regret he had invited her. Well, actually, his mother had invited her. And she certainly didn't want Miriam Donovan laughing behind her back about how Lucy comported herself at a fancy party.

  She'd put to use all the people skills she'd learned since taking over Lily's Blooms. She smiled until her cheekbones ached, laughed at stupid jokes and made the appropriate coo and titter after each comment. Now she needed a break.

  She walked toward the patio door with the intent of ducking into the ladies’ room for a moment of peace. A hand latched onto her wrist and halted her escape.

  "Where are you going? We haven't been properly introduced yet."

  Lucy tugged out of the man's grasp and pasted on a polite smile. She had noticed him earlier, talking to Cole. He and Cole were about the same age, but unlike Cole, he looked like he hadn't a care in the world. “I'm Lucy Chaple."

  "Garrett Morton the third.” He took her hand before she could protest and placed a kiss on top before dropping it again. “This is Jenna Ashton.” He indicated a woman at his side Lucy hadn't noticed before.

  "Nice to meet you both.” Although Lucy had a strange urge to run away, she knew a proper lady would stay and exchange useless pleasantries. “Do you work for Cole?"

  Garrett and Jenna burst out laughing as if Lucy had made some tremendous joke. “God, no,” Garrett said. “Cole is the only one of us tedious enough to work.” He used the word “us” as if it represented a special club.

  "If you don't work, what do you do?” Lucy asked, petulance creeping into her voice. She had struggled her whole life and was proud of what she'd accomplished. It irked her that these people considered working beneath them.

  Garrett ran a finger down her bare arm. “If you're lucky, maybe you'll find out."

  Bile rose to her throat. Lucy yanked her arm away and took a step back.

  "Now, Garrett,” Jenna spoke up mockingly. “You shouldn't play with Cole's little friend like that. I'm sure she doesn't understand your humor."

  "He's supposed to be funny?” Lucy shot back.

  Garrett and Jenna exchanged amused glances. “Forgive me,” Garrett said with no amount of sincerity. “I assumed if you were with Cole you knew how this game was played."

  Lucy was about to inform the smug pair that she wasn't with Cole, she would never be with Cole, and she would never “play their game.” But before she could, another man, this one older with silver hair and a dimpled smile, joined them.

  "Mr. Donovan, this is a wonderful party,” Jenna cooed.

  Cole's father? It actually shouldn't have surprised her. They had the exact same smile.

  "Thank you, Ms. Ashton. Ms. Chaple."

  He knew her name? Had Cole talked about her, or had he heard her name from Mrs. Donovan? His attitude toward her would likely be very different, based on the source of information.

  "May I have this dance?” He nodded toward the dance floor that had been set up near a small orchestra.

  It didn't matter how he'd learned who she was. She was just grateful for the rescue. “It would be my pleasure."

  He put her hand in the crook of his arm and led her to the dance floor. Pulling her into his arms, he moved gracefully to the music.

  "You're an excellent dancer, Mr. Donovan."

  He spun her in a delightful twirl. “Please, call me Jerome. And may I call you Lucy?"

  Lucy nodded.

  "I heard quite a bit about you from Mrs. Donovan."

  A quarry of jagged rocks rolled around her stomach. “Oh, really?"

  "According to her, or Nanny Hilda to be more precise, you and Cole have grown extremely close."

  "I wouldn't say close—"

  "Can I be honest, Lucy?"

  She nodded, an egg-sized lump forming in her throat.

  "We've already had one gold digger in this family, and I won't let it happen again."

  Lucy stumbled over her feet and stepped on his.

  He tightened his grip to prevent her escape. All the while he kept a pleasant smile on his face as if their conversation was perfectly civil.

  "I don't know if Cole has told you anything about his ex-wife,” Jerome continued.

  Lucy shook her head. The lump in her throat precluded her from speaking.

  "Cole fell in love with Pam the moment he saw her. To him, everything she did or said was perfect. His mother and I noticed right away that despite her good manners and attentive behavior, a different person hid beneath the surface. Cole didn't want to hear it, though. Nor did he listen when we begged him to sign a prenuptial agreement. Do you know what happened next?"

  Again, Lucy shook her head, although she could make a good guess. Her brain shouted at her to flee from his horrible accusations, but her feet moved in perfunctory steps. As if some part of her needed to understand Cole.

  "She lied to Cole,” Mr. Donovan continued. “Cheated on him, and broke his heart. And then she walked away with a large portion of the money he had worked so hard to earn. The money she had married him to get her hands on."

  "I'm sorry,” Lucy replied inanely. Why was she apologizing to Cole's father? She hadn't done anything wrong. Obviously, he didn't know Cole had propositioned her to have his baby. Words of defense were on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her from saying them. Maybe it was because Cole had asked her not to. Or maybe it was because she didn't want to prove Mr. Donovan right, that she wasn't good enough for Cole.

  "If you think you can get access to his wealth, you're wrong. He won't be so naïve this time. I guarantee you there will be a prenup, and you will end up with nothing."

  Her desire to hear about Cole's past could no longer make up for the insults. Lucy forced herself to stop dancing. Mr. Donovan made it sound as if his threat meant something to her. As if she would decide it was a waste of time to pursue Cole and disappear. As if she would marry him in the first place.

  "I'm sorry you wasted your time making threats, Mr. Donovan. If you had just asked me, I could have told you I have no intention of marrying Cole, not that he'd even ask me."

  With her head held high, Lucy walked off the dance floor, toward the French doors and freedom.

  Cole watched as Lucy fled the dance floor. She l
ooked upset, and Cole knew exactly who was to blame. He stalked to his father, put a hand on Jerome's shoulder, and forced him to face Cole. “What did you say to her?"

  Jerome shrugged. “I thought we were having a nice chat."

  "That's bull. What did you say?"

  "I just let her know the way of things."

  "What does that mean?” Cole demanded.

  His father grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him into a quiet corner. “This time I'm cleaning up your mess before it starts. I told Lucy the truth. If she thinks she can marry you and get access to your money, she is very wrong. And by the way she ran away, I'd say she understood me perfectly."

  Cole gave a hollow laugh. “You think Lucy's interested in my money? I've already offered it all to her, and she's turned me down. Unlike us, she can't be bought."

  Cole yanked away from his father and raced toward the front of his home, ignoring his father's call after him. His own words rung in his ears as he ran. Unlike us, she can't be bought.

  For the first time, he realized it was true. Lucy couldn't be bought for any amount of money, no matter what he wanted to believe. No matter what he offered, she would never give up her child. Her integrity humbled him, and he knew he had to catch her before she walked out of his life forever.

  Luckily, she was still in the front, waiting for her car to be brought up from valet. “Lucy!"

  Instead of turning to him, she gave him her back, pretending she didn't hear him.

  He reached her side and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged away from him. “Lucy, please talk to me."

  "I have nothing to say to you,” she said, her back still to him. “It was a mistake coming here, a mistake thinking we could be friends."

  "Don't say that.” He stepped around her so finally they were face to face. And for the first time he noticed the tears in her eyes. “Oh, Lucy.” Her tears were more painful than a knife in the chest.

  "Come inside with me. Let's talk."

  "I'm not going back to the party."

  "Not to the party,” he promised. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the house. His grip left no room for refusal; he couldn't risk it. His gut told him if he let her go now, without explaining, she would never speak to him again. He couldn't let that happen.

  Cole led her upstairs to his bedroom, and they sat in the window seat of a huge bay window. “Whatever my father said to you,” he told her, stroking her hand. “He wasn't speaking for me."

  "Maybe not for you, but everyone you know.” She used her free hand to wipe away an escaping tear. “When you think about it, calling me a gold digger is really more of an insult against you than against me."

  His lips curved upward. “Really, how so?"

  "Everyone thinks the only thing I could possibly see in you is how much you have in your bank account. I guess they assume you're a boring wretch who couldn't keep a woman any other way."

  "A boring wretch, eh?” Teasing filled his voice. He swallowed back a sigh of relief. At least his father hadn't destroyed her wry humor. “Would a boring wretch do this?"

  And then he did the thing he'd been longing to do for days, the thing that had filled his dreams at night.

  He kissed her.

  She was stiff at first, her hands on his chest, as if contemplating whether or not she should push him away. All the reasons he shouldn't be doing this were floating around in his head, but he couldn't wrap them in one coherent thought to make himself stop. And then he didn't want to.

  Lucy's small hands suddenly tugged on his lapels, and forced their bodies even closer. Then, her lips opened against his and her tongue shyly glided across his lower lip.

  He opened, allowing her full access, and she took immediate advantage.

  Her tongue met his, alternately caressing and exploring. He let her take the lead and allowed her to play at her leisure. He didn't know how long they stayed that way, their only contact besides their lips being her hands grasping at his chest.

  When she pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. “Well, now I have a comeback."

  "Huh?"

  "When someone accuses me of being a gold digger, I can tell them I'm just using you for sex.” She grabbed his lapels again.

  Her unexpected strength propelled him forward and he fell on top of her. He tried to brace his arms on each side of her head, worried he would crush her. But she appeared to crave his weight on top of her, using her unexpectedly strong arms to hold him to her.

  A sense of urgency wrapped around them. Their hands moved as fast as their mouths, kissing and touching each other as if the privilege would soon be taken away. Cole's kisses followed a path from Lucy's lips, down her cheek and toward her neck as he feasted on her like she was dessert.

  As he sucked at the frantically beating pulse of her throat, she tore at his jacket, ripping the arm seams in her haste. He stopped momentarily to help her slide off the garment, then returned to that delightful spot on her neck that made her arch beneath him.

  His hands moved to the smooth skin of her shoulders and fingered the fine silk straps of her dress. With one tug, he ripped them from the dress to slide the bodice down. His fingers splayed over the tantalizing silk of her strapless bra and she shivered in response. Quickly reaching behind her, he unsnapped the closure and skimmed the bra away to reveal ivory breasts.

  His first sight of her caused his heart to race and his breath to quicken, as if he'd just finished running a marathon. She was so beautiful, so perfect. So his.

  Lucy's chest heaved with soft pants and perfect pink nubs beckoned. Unable to resist such an invitation, he suckled one as he played with the other. Her hands weaved through his hair and gripped the strands to hold him in place. After a few minutes, he changed positions and stroked the other tip with his tongue.

  As he nibbled and laved, she reached between them, tugging at his zipper. When her eager hand reached inside to grasp him, he reared back, too close to ending this before it really started.

  Sitting up, he fought to catch his breath. He looked down at Lucy, bared to the waist, her breasts glistening from his attention, and nearly exploded.

  But when he looked in her eyes, his heart plummeted. The twinkle was gone, in its place regret.

  She turned her face toward the window. Then said the one thing he wasn't expecting. “You don't want me, do you?"

  Lucy wished she could dissolve into the window seat. She hadn't expected to need Cole's touch, hadn't intended to react like a prison inmate on a conjugal visit. Her body had reacted separately from her brain, had in fact taken over her brain. Because from the moment Cole had put his hands on her, she had been all emotion and zero intellect.

  Until the moment he pulled back. And then she knew he didn't feel the same way. His face had mistake written all over it.

  She swallowed a cry of despair and prayed she could leave the room with some semblance of dignity. She hadn't intended to say anything, but the words tumbled out before she could call them back. “You don't want me, do you?"

  Intense astonishment filled his face. “Not want you? I was two seconds away from embarrassing myself!"

  Lucy stared at him, baffled.

  Tenderness touched his clear blue eyes. “Sweetheart, if I didn't pull back, I was about to leave you very, very unsatisfied."

  Understanding dawned on her. “Oh!” She was glad the pale moon didn't shine enough light to reveal her scarlet cheeks. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “Then you didn't want to ... stop?"

  Cole groaned. “Stop, no. Slow down, yes. If I'm to make it good for you, we need to take our time."

  A warm glow flowed through her body. “How about we make it good for each other?” She stood up beside him and let her dress drop the rest of the way to the floor.

  His eyes feasted on her, appreciation gleaming in their depths.

  For the first time in her life, Lucy felt proud of her body, proud of the way it made Cole's mouth open in an agonized pant and his jaw t
ighten with painful restraint. She had always worried her body was too thin with too few curves. Working on her feet, lifting heavy buckets of flowers all day, had given her defined arm and leg muscles she thought lacked femininity. At this moment, though, standing in front of Cole, she felt all woman.

  His greedy hands reached for her, but she backed away. “Your turn. Strip,” she challenged him in a silky tone.

  "Want to help?"

  "I think I'll just watch."

  She traded seats with him, comfortable with her nudity in a way she'd never thought possible.

  He stood where she'd shed her dress moments before. His jacket was already draped across the window seat, so he started with his shirt.

  It pleased her that his fingers shook as he undid the buttons, from anticipation or lust she wasn't sure. But it was selfishly gratifying that she was capable of shaking to the core a man as in control as Cole.

  The shirt slid off his shoulders, down to the ground, revealing his broad chest.

  When she'd seen him without a shirt on that day at the lake, it had taken every ounce of effort not to gaze on him like an adolescent schoolgirl. But now she was allowed to look her fill.

  As she took in his powerful physique, his fingers pushed down his trousers and silk boxers. His arousal was full, thick and ready. Had she not been sitting, she probably would have collapsed from the sight. Blood pounded in her brain, and she told herself through the hazy fog that this wasn't a dream. Cole wanted her. He was practically carrying a loaded weapon. All for her.

  After kicking off his shoes and socks, he bent to his knees and reached for her sandals. With nimble fingers, he slid them off her feet. He brought one foot up to his mouth and then flicked his tongue against her big toe.

  Pleasure shot through her as he suckled at her toes. Biting her lip to contain her moan, she leaned back against the window seat. She would never have guessed she was a foot person, but his clever lips and tongue sent an electronic surge directly to her core.

  Then his tongue continued up her bare leg. Her breath caught as she realized where he was headed. She had never let a man do this before and panic rose from within. She put a hand on his head to stop him. “I'm not sure..."