Millionaire's Instant Baby

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  “A man won’t buy the cow if he can get the cream for free,” Blanch said.

  Kyle’s insults were easier to take than these busybodies’ counsel, no matter how well intentioned. But if she said anything to the two women, anything at all, Emma knew her words would make it through the town’s gossip mill faster than a three-eyed rat running through a cheese factory.

  “Oh, dear me!” Blanch exclaimed. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Handsome one,” Flo added.

  Emma swallowed, deliberately keeping herself from looking toward the door. She didn’t need the ladies’ comments to know that Kyle had entered the diner. She could sense him. Her nerves tightened and the hair at her nape prickled.

  “He’s coming over here!” Blanch squeaked.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Kyle said smoothly.

  Flo sniffed, her eyes raking Kyle. “Taking advantage of an innocent young woman,” she muttered. Then her eyes flashed on Emma. “And you, Emma Valentine. It’s no wonder Emil Craddock had to let you go from your teaching position at Benderhoff. What kind of example are you setting for those impressionable children, openly living the way you are with a man? A newcomer to Buttonwood, furthermore.”

  Emma wanted very badly to tell the woman that Emil Craddock had canned her before she’d taken her sinful ways up the mountain to live in Kyle Montgomery’s fancy house.

  “Emma doesn’t need to work at Benderhoff,” Kyle said smoothly, sliding into the booth beside Emma. His hip burned against hers, but he closed his arm around her shoulders before she could slide farther over. “Now that she’s my wife, she can concentrate on finishing her degree.”

  Emma’s eyes flew to his. He was smiling at her, his green eyes hard. He dropped a light kiss on her numb lips, then casually looked across the table to see the reaction his statement had caused the two women.

  They were staring, their jaws slack.

  And Emma realized with dismay that everyone in the diner was staring at them. Kyle brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Did you want to have some blueberry pie before we drive home?”

  Emma couldn’t have swallowed food right then if her life depended on it. Not even Millie’s pie. “No,” she managed to say. “I’m ready to go.” She was glad no one looked at her ringless hand. She wouldn’t have thought about it except for Kyle’s earlier comments.

  He smiled indulgently. “You’ll excuse us, ladies, won’t you? I don’t like Emma to overtire herself.”

  At any other time Emma might have enjoyed the speechlessness of Flo and Blanch. She let Kyle take her hand and help her from the booth, then tried not to stare too hard when Kyle retrieved Chandler from Millie. Her boss caught her in a hug before she could unfold the stroller.

  Conversations had returned to normal in the busy diner, thank heaven, and so Emma was reasonably certain Millie’s “We’re going to talk, young lady” wasn’t overheard.

  Kyle settled Chandler in the stroller, then took Emma’s cold hand and ushered her out of the diner. She waited until they were across the street and hidden by the cars in the parking lot before yanking her hand out of Kyle’s grasp. She’d been such a fool to agree to his insane plan.

  “Nothin’ good ever comes from a lie,” she muttered, stalking to the passenger door of the Land Rover.

  Kyle set the brake on the stroller and caught her shoulders in his hands, turning her inexorably toward him.

  She hated the knowledge that, as hurt and angry as she was, she still couldn’t help noticing his powerful forearms, revealed by the rolled cuffs of his wheat-colored shirt, or the hollow at the base of his throat, exposed by the two buttons he’d unfastened. “What is it, Kyle?” Her throat felt raw. “You want to lecture me some more to make sure I don’t embarrass you by acting like an improper wife? Boy, imagine their surprise if they really knew the truth.”

  “Stop.”

  “Why?” Her laugh was brittle. “I should’ve known better, of course. You’re cut from the same privileged cloth as Jeremy. And he’d wanted my body, too, just like you. But I wasn’t good enough for anything more. I didn’t carry the right pedigree and I might damage the family name with my scarlet behavior.”

  “I shouldn’t have said what I did about Parker,” Kyle said, his voice rough. “But I want you to stop talking about yourself that way. That is not what this is about at all.”

  “Oh, really? I just imagined that you accused me of being unfaithful?” Her lips twisted. “So ironic, of course, considering there’s nothing between us for me to be unfaithful to.”

  “That’s the problem, sweetness, there is something between us and you know it as well as I do. The very thing that makes you so perfect to be my wife is the very thing that is sending us both around the bend.”

  “I’m an adult,” she said tightly. “I think I can control myself from throwing myself at you or Dr. Parker or any other man who looks my way.”

  “Dammit, Emma, that’s not it, either.” He propped his hands on his lean hips, bowing his head for a moment. “I’m not sure I can control myself,” he finally said. “I told you earlier today how I felt. And I meant what I said, Emma. You’re safe from me.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t like the way Parker looked at you. Pure and simple. ’Cause he looked at you the way I look at you. Like a woman he wants.”

  She swallowed past the knot in her throat. “He may want,” she said thickly, “but that doesn’t mean he’s going to get. You hurt me,” she admitted flatly.

  “I didn’t mean to, Emma. I’m just…Damn. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

  “Pretending to be married?”

  “Letting someone into my life.”

  Her lips parted. She moistened them. “Then we have no problem at all,” she countered. “Because you didn’t let me into your life. You hired me to play a role.”

  He slammed his hand against the hood of the Land Rover and Emma gasped. “You know what I wish? I wish I’d married you for real,” he growled in a low voice. “Because then I wouldn’t have the conscience that was drilled into me by Chandler and Lydia Montgomery to contend with. I’d have you in my bed, even if we couldn’t really be together quite yet because of the baby. There are dozens of ways to make love, sweetness, and I’d make sure we devoted plenty of time to discovering each and every one of them.”

  Emma dragged her eyes from the dent he’d left in his vehicle, his words ringing in her ears. “What you want more than anything,” she corrected, “is to complete your deal with Mr. Cummings, and if it wasn’t for that, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. You wouldn’t have looked twice at a woman like me.”

  He shook his head again. “We’ve got to do something about this self-image thing of yours, Emma.” A car drove slowly past. Then stopped and backed up.

  An elegantly coiffed woman rolled down her window, a smile on her face. “Kyle. Is this your lovely wife?”

  Kyle clamped his hand around Emma’s wrist and drew her toward the idling car. “Yes. Emma, this is Helen Cummings. We ran into each other while you were at the diner.”

  Emma thought she managed a smile. She wasn’t sure. But Helen Cummings was smiling wide enough for both of them. “It’s such a delight to meet you, Emma,” Helen said. “I know we’ll have a lovely time this weekend when you and Kyle come up to see us. Payton thinks so highly of Kyle.” She laughed lightly. “I made Kyle promise to bring your wedding photos.”

  “But—” Kyle’s arm about her shoulders tightened warningly.

  “I won’t forget,” he assured her smoothly. “You drive carefully.”

  With a wave Helen took off.

  Emma leaned back against the sun-warmed car. “I’m not up to this,” she said, feeling frantic at the way her life was snowballing out of control. She looked up at Kyle. “Wedding photos? You couldn’t have told her that we eloped or something?”

  He made a rough sound. “She caught me off guard,” he said. “Had I not been thinking how satisfying it would be to wr
ap my hands around Donald Parker’s throat, I might have been thinking a little faster on my feet.”

  Emma sighed. She was exhausted. Physically. Emotionally.

  And it didn’t help that nothing had really been resolved. “I won’t sleep with you, Kyle.” She stared down at her twisting hands. She didn’t even like acknowledging the fact that she wanted to. She looked over at Chandler, content in his stroller. “I don’t regret my son. But I won’t be so unwise with my heart ever again. Not even with you.”

  She only wished she could be certain she could live up to her words.

  Chapter Ten

  “Kyle said he’ll meet you at the airport, Miss Emma.”

  Emma nodded and finished fastening Chandler’s fresh diaper. “Thank you, Baxter.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to leave the lad with me while you go to Denver?”

  Emma smiled gently. “I’m not ready to leave him overnight. But I promise you’ll have first dibs when I am.”

  Baxter smiled. “Good enough, Miss Emma.”

  He followed her down the white stairs. It was Friday morning, and Kyle was flying them to Denver to take care of the little problem of a wedding photo album.

  Emma had barely been able to sleep the night before, wondering just exactly how Kyle thought he was going to “take care” of anything. All he’d told her was to be ready for an overnight stay.

  Since their encounter with Helen Cummings outside the clinic, they’d both gone out of their way to avoid being alone with each other.

  Kyle had an easy solution for that, of course. He left for the office well before dawn and didn’t return until well after dark, just as he’d done since they’d entered into their unorthodox arrangement.

  Emma didn’t think so highly of her own appeal that she considered Kyle’s long hours to be an avoidance tactic. He was simply an extremely busy man—the head of a thriving company and one of the state’s major employers, so she’d discovered when she’d made it a point to learn more about her “husband.” She’d also found out that he’d been accurate when he said he kept his private life private. Nowhere had she found anything that concretely said he did or didn’t have a family. Immediate, adoptive, birth or otherwise.

  Since Kyle had been scarce, Emma had spent a good portion of her time wondering what on earth she had in her wardrobe that wouldn’t appear inappropriate in wedding photos. She’d finally settled on an off-white blazer that she fancied up with a sheer ivory scarf tucked in along the collarless neckline. The scarf also conveniently disguised the fact that the jacket, which buttoned past her hips, displayed a bit too much cleavage for comfort. With it, she wore an ankle-length skirt with minuscule pleats.

  Though she felt as if she looked like she was ready to attend Easter worship, Baxter had assured her that she looked “quite lovely.” She could’ve kissed him for his sweetness, because he’d known she was nervous as a cat.

  When they arrived at the airport, entering a key-accessed lot behind some buildings, Emma felt like a wreck. Kyle’s car was parked under a shade structure.

  Then the man himself walked out of a rear door of the building, writing on a clipboard. He handed the clipboard to the man beside him, then strode toward the Land Rover.

  She felt dizzy. She simply couldn’t forget Kyle’s saying he wanted to make love to her. It was always there with them. Like a physical presence.

  Kyle reached the vehicle and opened her door. “Thanks for driving them out here, Bax,” he greeted. His attention rapidly switched to Emma and he helped her from the vehicle. “It’s been a hectic morning,” he murmured. “You look very nice. But a bit pale. Afraid to go up with me?”

  She smiled shakily. If he wanted to attribute her pallor to fear of flying, that was okay with her.

  Baxter handed over Chandler with a sigh. “You’re sure you’re not ready for a vacation from the baby yet?”

  Emma had to laugh. “Quite sure, Baxter.”

  Kyle pulled her overnight case and the diaper bag from the vehicle. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” he told Baxter, then placed a hand at Emma’s back and ushered her into the building.

  Emma barely gained the impression of busy offices, clacking printers and chatter as Kyle hustled her through the building and out the other side toward a sleek airplane that looked nothing like the two-seater she expected.

  A svelte young woman with a perfect smile and showgirl legs greeted them when they reached the top of the rolling staircase. “Good morning, Mr. Montgomery.” She smiled, blindingly white, at Emma. “Everything is ready for your flight.”

  Kyle nodded, accepting the woman’s deferential manner as his due. “Thank you, Jennifer.” He followed Emma into the plane, gesturing vaguely to the oversize seats. “Take your pick, honey. Ah, Jennifer?”

  The flight attendant pulled out a safety seat for Chandler, which she strapped into one of the seats. Satisfied, Kyle nodded. “We’ll be on the ground for a few minutes yet, Emma. If you need anything, Jennifer will see to your needs.”

  Emma nodded, wondering just what Jennifer thought of Kyle’s passengers. She sat in the decadently comfortable leather seat facing Chandler’s safety seat and leaned forward to fasten him in. Across the aisle was a long equally comfortable-looking couch.

  It was silly to wish that Kyle would sit with her. But when he went through the narrow door to the cockpit and shut it securely behind him, she wished just that.

  She sighed deeply, running her palms over the armrests. Jennifer moved about the cabin doing whatever it was she did.

  “Mrs. Montgomery, we’ll be departing momentarily.”

  Emma jerked her face from the window she’d been peering through. “Ah, thank you.”

  “You’ll need to fasten your safety belt,” Jennifer said gently.

  “Oh.” She glanced down. “Of course. I’m sorry.” Then she felt her cheeks heat.

  Jennifer’s sleek smile suddenly took on an impish cast. “It’s pretty fancy digs, isn’t it?”

  Emma chuckled, feeling rather uneven. She wondered what it would feel like if she really were Mrs. Montgomery.

  The plane shuddered ever so slightly, and Emma quickly fumbled her safety belt into place. She looked over at Jennifer who sat on the end of the long couch, the picture of calm.

  Emma wished she felt the same. The plane moved. She leaned forward to check on Chandler. He was working contentedly at his pacifier and Emma rested her head against the seat back and stared out the window. The takeoff was smooth as glass, and Emma finally relaxed. The landscape far below looked like a patchwork quilt.

  “Chandler seems to like flying.”

  Emma looked up to see Kyle standing beside her seat. “Good gravy, who’s flying this thing?”

  “My very capable copilot. Want something to drink?”

  Jennifer undid her safety belt and disappeared into a little nook near the open cockpit door.

  Kyle noticed the direction of Emma’s craned neck. “Want to see the action up front?”

  “Well, yes, actually,” she admitted.

  He grinned, looking impossibly sexy despite his conservative gray suit. With an easy motion he unfastened her safety belt and pulled her to her feet, holding her hand as he led her to the cockpit door. It was remarkably small inside, filled with control panels and computerized-looking buttons versus the levers and knobs her mind had hazily envisioned. Kyle introduced her to his copilot, Mark Houseman, who tipped his cap and greeted her as Jennifer had done. As Mrs. Montgomery.

  Kyle nudged her to the captain’s seat, but Emma dug in her heels. “I couldn’t. What if I bumped something?”

  “There’s that worrier in you coming out again.”

  “That’s right,” she agreed, and scooted past him back to her seat. Kyle joined her, accepting the steaming cup of aromatic fragrant coffee Jennifer served him in a sturdy mug—very different from the fine china that Baxter used at the house.

  Emma realized that Kyle’s hands looked just as comfortable wrapped aro
und delicate English china as they did the plain white mug with the ChandlerAIR logo emblazoned on its side. Suddenly Jennifer appeared with an elegant breakfast. Frosty orange juice was in a slender crystal tumbler, and the tray holding dewy-fresh fruit and tiny pastries, which Jennifer placed on a fold-down tray near Emma’s knee, was gleaming silver.

  Emma couldn’t resist the ripe strawberries, and she reached over and selected one, savoring its succulent sweetness. “Do all your passengers receive such five-star treatment? I imagine folks who charter this baby pay through the nose.”

  “This baby isn’t chartered out.” He leaned past her and lifted a cluster of grapes from the tray, offering it to her first. “It’s mine.”

  She rolled the plump green grape between her fingers. “Mine as in the company’s? Or mine as in mine and you can’t have it?”

  Kyle chuckled. “Mine as in I share it on occasion when the need arises. But yes, mine as in I don’t have to share it if I don’t want to.”

  Emma let out a long breath. “You know, Kyle, one minute I actually let myself think you’re just a regular guy, but then, this—” she waved her hand, indicating the luxuriously appointed plane “—reminds me that you’re anything but ordinary. This is crazy.”

  “Crazy or not, we’re committed to it.”

  “I just wish—”

  Kyle touched her arm when she broke off. “Wish what?”

  She shrugged, searching for the right words. “That all this wasn’t necessary,” she said softly. “Aside from encountering Helen Cummings, the past few weeks have been basically uneventful. I guess I let it lull me into forgetting just what we are doing.” She shifted again, focusing on Chandler across from her. Watching her son was a darn sight safer than watching Kyle. “One lie leads to another, and another, each one bigger than the last.”

  “Do you want to turn around and go home?”

  She made a face. “Right.”

  “I’m serious, Emma.”

  His voice, quiet as a sigh, was certainly serious enough. She looked at him, searching his face. “What about the Cummingses?”