Читать книгу The Billionaire's Baby Plan / Marrying the Northbridge Nanny: The Billionaire's Baby Plan - Allison Leigh - Страница 10

All of it?

Lisa barely heard anything after those three little words. She supposed she must have functioned through the meal—carried from the house by Cara and Lea, who turned out to be Rourke’s other sisters. Rourke sat her across from his mother, Nina. She had one bandaged foot elevated on a second chair, a position that didn’t prevent her from busily working the colorful blanket she was crocheting. Like a general maneuvering her troops, Tricia called in all the children from the tennis courts, directing them around the two other tables even as she tossed out introductions that Lisa had no hope of following.

Not when all of it kept circling in her head, even trumping that ironic “happy family” comment.

He couldn’t have meant it literally. Could he?

Before she knew it, the meal was done, the oddly prosaic plastic plates and utensils disposed of and after being indulgently waved off by Nina Devlin, Lisa found herself walking through an honest-to-goodness hedge maze with Rourke while three of his nieces—Tanya in the lead—raced ahead of them.

“What exactly do you mean by all of it?” she finally asked.

They’d both left behind their jackets at the table. He’d rolled the cuffs of his white shirt up his forearms. Even his tie was gone. And at her abrupt question, he stopped and looked at her. The hedge was tall enough that it couldn’t be seen over, but not so high that it felt claustrophobic. She could hear the high-pitched little-girl voices ahead of them, and still feel the breeze tugging at her chignon and her skirt.

But when he focused his attention on her face just then, they might as well have been locked together, alone, in a four-by-four vault. “I mean all of it,“ he repeated as if she were witless.

Which was pretty much how she felt. Ultimately, the institute needed millions, and the most practical solution—if the least desirable—to that would have been from multiple sources. Not even Ted had really believed that Rourke would consider covering their entire need. “But—”

He lifted a hand, silencing her. “This isn’t up for discussion. I’m willing to invest as much as it takes, but I’ll be the only investor. No others.”

Her blood was zipping through her veins more quickly, excitement making her pulse pound. This was it, then. Truly it.

The answer to a prayer.

“Are you agreeing because of your friendship with Ted?”

“Does it matter?”

She slowly shook her head. “What matters is the institute.”

“Right.” His lips twisted a little. “As it happens, I do want to see Ted and Chance have every opportunity available to them. And Ted won’t leave the institute.”

Her shoes crunched on the smooth gravel of the path as she took two steps one way, then back again. “You asked him?”

His eyes glinted, reminding her needlessly that—indulgent uncle or not—he was a calculating businessman. “Of course.”

She swallowed. Paul had courted Ted and Chance away from San Francisco. With the institute in its currently precarious position, could she blame them if they were courted away from them?

“Ted flatly refused, though,” Rourke added. “Wouldn’t even consider any of the institutions I brought to his attention. Which is good. Because without Bonner and Demetrios I wouldn’t touch this with a ten-foot pole.” His eyes narrowed. “I know the numbers, Lisa. More importantly, I know why.”

He couldn’t possibly know that Derek was the cause. But she knew that before the t‘s were crossed and the i‘s dotted, he’d have a right to know the truth. For now, though, she chose to skirt it. “With such a level of financial commitment, are you expecting to be more hands-on in a functional capacity?”

He looked darkly amused. “Afraid I’m going to want to set up an office next to yours?” They turned another corner of the maze.

“Of course not,” she blithely lied. The Armstrongs ran the Armstrong Fertility Institute. If she had anything to say about it, that was the way it would continue. “Naturally, you’ll want some assurance that your investment is protected, so I—”

“It’ll be protected all right. Just not by my regular presence during your management meetings. I’m not interested in telling you what staff to hire and fire or what sort of patient load every physician should maintain or what research protocols should be followed. The institute already knows all that.”

Given the grim set of his mouth, she wasn’t certain if there was a compliment in there or not.

She was leaning toward not.

“Then what, exactly, do you mean by protection?” The institute had been in successful operation for more than two decades. With the exception of their run of bad press during the past year, the only instance of mismanagement was what they were dealing with now.

Of course that instance was a freaking whopper.

“I mean you.”

She frowned, trying—and failing—to decipher his meaning. “I have no intention of deserting the institute,” she assured him. She’d had plenty of offers in the past few years, offers she’d never taken seriously, because her heart was in Cambridge, firmly entrenched in her family’s calling. “I’ll be there as long as there’s a lightbulb burning.”

He shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

Which left her more confused than ever. But a clatter of gravel heralded the giggling trio as the girls ran past them on their way back out of the maze and Lisa waited until they were gone again before speaking. “We’re talking in circles, Rourke.”

But he didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he closed his hand over her elbow and led her around another corner.

They’d reached the center of the maze where four short benches sat on each side of a square, tiered fountain.

It was charming and very serene.

And without the presence of his nieces, very, very private.

Rourke let go of her elbow and faced her. “I want an heir.”

She did a credible job of hiding her astonishment. “And you want the institute to assist with that? We specialize in IVF but we also have an excellent history with surrogacy.” Or maybe he had a girlfriend that not even little Tanya knew about.

For some reason, her mouth tasted a little acid over that thought.

“I know.”

Relief coursed through her. At least now she felt as if she understood what he was aiming for. He’d said he wanted an heir. A child. They could help to make that come about. “Confidentiality is sacred at the Armstrong Fertility Institute, Rourke. You don’t have to worry about that. And honestly, my brother Paul might want to brain me for saying this, but you don’t have to agree to invest this heavily just to be assured of that. In comparison, those fees would be—” She broke off, shrugging. Because, truly, those fees would be less than minuscule to a man of his significant wealth. “As for the surrogate, if you have someone in mind, our attorney will walk through the entire process with both of you. And if you don’t have someone in mind, we have—”

“I do. You.”

It took her a minute to realize what he’d said.

She pressed her hand to her chest, a disbelieving laugh on her lips. “You want me to be your surrogate?”

“No,” he said evenly. “I want you to be my wife.”

She felt the blood drain out of her head. Disbelief morphed into anger.

Clearly he wasn’t serious. Nothing since she’d stepped into Fare for that farce of a meeting the day before had been serious.

Not to him.

Her hands curled at her sides. “I cannot believe I let myself take this seriously. When, obviously, this is all just a game to you. What is it, Rourke?” She spread her arms. “Do you have some particular ax to grind or are you just bored?”

He ignored her. “I figure a year, maybe two at the outside. That’s comfortable enough to have a child within that time. After which you can go your way and I’ll go mine. The child, of course, will be with me at least half the time. I’m not ignorant that two parents are better than one. If you choose to exercise that role, of course. If not—” He shrugged. “I’ll be just as happy to have him or her full-time. As you’ve seen for yourself there’s plenty of other family around.”

She gaped. “You plan to push this theoretical child off on your mother to care for, just so you can have yourself an heir?”

“Of course not.” He looked impatient. “My mother obviously adores her grandchildren, but I don’t expect her to raise them. My mother lives here, but this is my home.”

“But you have a penthouse in the city.” The glorious penthouse that Sara Beth had raved over nearly as much as she’d raved over Ted, who’d romantically swept her there while he’d been courting her.

“And a lakeside loft in Chicago and a cabin in Colorado and a house on an Oregon cliff. All of which are beside the point. In exchange for your…contribution…the institute will receive all the funds it needs to climb back out of its hole and stay there.”

“How generous.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “If you’re serious—and frankly, I’m having a hard time with swallowing that—what on God’s green earth would lead you to think that I’d be agreeable to this?”

“You told me yourself you’re dedicated to the institute.”

“Dedicated, yes. Insane, no.”

“Then when you get back home, you’d better tell everyone at the institute to polish up their resumes.”

“I’m sorry to bust your egotistical bubble, Mr. Devlin, but you are not the only player in the investment game. I’ll find new investors. Real ones.” Investors who weren’t out of their minds. “Nobody at the institute is going to have to lose their jobs. Nobody!”

“If you don’t agree, there’s not an investor in this country—or beyond—who’ll want to touch the Armstrong Fertility Institute when I’m finished.” His voice was low. Flat. “Every-one—and I mean everyone—will know how badly your own brother embezzled from the company. Derek couldn’t even stick to just draining from your operational funds. He had to take from the research grants, too. And he did it for years, right under your noses. You think you weathered tough times when the institute was accused of using unauthorized donor sperm and eggs? When you were accused of inflating the in vitro success ratios? That was a cakewalk. You don’t have only patients to lose. You’ve got the respect of every medical and scientific community to lose. Everything your father ever worked for.” His black gaze didn’t waver. “The institute won’t just disappear quietly into the night like a fine business that has seen a natural end of life. It’ll blow up and the toxic fumes will never fade. Not even your very capable PR fixer, Ramona Tate, will be able to spin you out of this.”

The chicken salad they’d had for lunch swirled nauseatingly inside her. “How did you know about Derek? From Ted?” She would have staked her reputation on Ted’s loyalty to the institute.

She had staked her reputation on it.

The look Rourke gave her was almost pitying. “Ted Bonner has never betrayed anyone or anything, least of all the Armstrong Institute.”

“Then how did you come across such privileged information?”

“There are some things that even the venerable Armstrong family can’t hide,” he said, leaning toward her. “Do you really think that I would consider investing in the institute without knowing exactly what I’d be getting into? I made it my business to know as soon as Ted called to set up a meeting with you. I didn’t get to where I am by being naive, Lisa.”

“Did you get there by resorting to blackmail to get what you want?” She was shaking and very much aware that he hadn’t answered her. “Or are we just special that way?”

His smile was cold. The wolf in full, ravenous mode, greeting Red Riding Hood right at the door. “Oh, princess, you are definitely special. And don’t consider it blackmail when we’re all getting something we want out of the deal.”

Fury bubbled inside her, vibrating through her voice. “You met me yesterday with no intention of investing.”

He didn’t deny it.

“So what happened between yesterday and today? Some angel visit you in your dreams and tell you it was time for an heir?” She struggled to keep her voice down.

His gaze drifted from her face, down her body, and back up again. “Something visited me in my dreams,” he allowed.

There was no mistaking his implication and she flushed so hard, she was practically seeing him through crimson.

Or else that was her fury.

She’d never been so close to losing control. She wanted to yell and pound her hands on something.

He would make a satisfying target.

She took a deep breath, waiting until her vocal cords didn’t feel as if they were strangling her. “I have no intention of being your broodmare, and even less intention of allowing you to ruin my institute!”

“You might want to think about it,” he suggested, when she turned on her heel and started walking away from the fountain. “I’ll give you until tomorrow afternoon. That’ll give my media director time to leak the…appropriate news.”

He’d been talking with his media director for much of their drive to Greenwich. She felt even sicker. She looked back at him. “Appropriate.”

“Don’t agree to my…proposal—”

“Proposal!” She snorted. “Insane proposition, maybe.”

He barely paused over her interruption. “—and it’ll be just as I’ve described. A hailstorm of disaster will come down on the institute by the time people tune into the evening news. But if you do agree, I’ll work equally hard at ensuring the world never knows what sort of thievery you have going on in your family. And the only thing in the news will be a human interest blip about our upcoming marriage.”

She hated, absolutely hated the fact that there was a stinging burn deep behind her eyes. There was no way she’d show any sort of weakness in front of this man. “Why should I trust you?”

He held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”

She stared at him, her hands curling and uncurling at her sides. “I’ve never come as close to wanting to hit someone as I am now.”

“Your brother Derek would make a better target.” His voice was flat. “He’s the one who put you in this position.”

And how badly she wanted to be able to deny it.

But she couldn’t.

Derek. Her own brother. The one she’d always been able to turn to. He’d been the one to teach her to drive when her father was too busy to and her mother was disinclined to. He’d been the one to help her pass her high-school math classes, to whisk her away for a day of sailing when all the rest of her friends were primping for the prom that she’d never been asked to go to. She’d gone to the same university as he; he’d told her what teachers were good and which ones to avoid. He’d taken her out for her first legal beer.

And he’d been her biggest supporter when it came to convincing their father that she—youngest of the Armstrong siblings—had what it took to become the head administrator of the institute.

She hated him for what he’d done to all of them. Couldn’t understand how he could have done what he’d done.

And she wished like hell that she could cut off the memory of all that he’d meant to her.

“Come on, Lisa.” Rourke’s voice dropped gently; the predator sensing weakness. “It won’t be so bad. A handful of years at the outside is all you’ll be giving up. And in exchange, the institute will be set for the next fifty years when the next generation takes over. You can expand. Open another location on the west coast if you want. The sky will be the limit.”

She didn’t care about expansion. Or new sites. She cared about the site—the only site—they had. She cared about what it would do to her father if the institute fell from grace while it was under her watch. Gerald’s health had been declining for years. She wasn’t sure if he could survive such a mammoth, shocking disappointment.

She and Paul and the others at the institute had all agreed that it was best to keep Derek’s horrible misdeeds from their parents. It wouldn’t solve anything if they knew, and would only upset them.

She pressed her fingers to her temples.

But if Rourke was to be believed—if she didn’t go along with his plan—there was no way that her parents wouldn’t learn what Derek had done.

It was unbearable to even contemplate.

“My driver can take you back to your hotel,” Rourke said, and she decided she was losing her mind to think there was a hint of compassion in his voice. “You have some thinking to do.”

“According to you, there’s no thinking to be done. Agree or suffer the consequences.”

“The institute can’t hide its financial precariousness much longer. Even if I did nothing, the truth would come out.”

“But you’re prepared to help it along.” Her voice was thick. She looked at him, wishing she could understand what was ticking behind his impenetrable gaze. “And for what? What did we ever do to you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like thieves.”

“I don’t like drivers who run red lights,” she exclaimed. “But I don’t take it so personally that I deliberately go hunting them down!”

“I didn’t hunt you down, sweetheart. You came to me. I’ve just come up with a solution that benefits us both.”

She shook her head. His gall was unbelievable. “You can whitewash it all you want, Rourke, but coercion is still coercion.”

He sighed faintly. “The more you keep thinking along those lines, the harder this all will be. My advice to you is to focus on the advantages.” His lips twisted a little. “That’s what I’m doing.”

She watched him.

The silence between them slowly ticked along, broken only by the soft gurgle of water spilling tranquilly over the edges of the fountain.

“I don’t see why we would have to marry,” she finally said. Maybe…maybe…she could tolerate being a surrogate mother for him. But that didn’t necessitate a pointless marriage.

A glint sparked in his eyes. The wolf scenting blood. “My child won’t be born a bastard.”

She looked up at the blue sky, then back at him. “Come out of the Dark Ages,” she said impatiently. “People hardly care about that anymore!”

“My mother still cares.” His expression was inflexible. “I care.”

So they’d all suffer through a sham of a marriage just so his heir wouldn’t be born out of wedlock?

“I suppose I should be grateful you don’t have some moral objection to divorce, too!”

“If I did, it went by the wayside well enough thanks to my ex-wife.”

She’d been aware that he was divorced, yet her furtive research when she’d first met him hadn’t managed to unearth any details about the woman. He’d been paired with dozens of women—from famous models to actresses to heiresses. But there’d definitely been no details of his former wife. “How long ago were you married?” Maybe he was nursing a broken heart and taking it out on her because she was female.

“A lifetime.”

“Right.” He wasn’t that old. Only four years older than she. “What happened?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“It does if I’m going to be putting your ring on my finger,” she returned. “Since I assume, to go along with your other antiquated notions, that you’ll be wanting me to wear one.”

“You think it’s old-fashioned for a couple to exchange rings along with their vows?”

She wanted to stomp her foot. Because she didn’t think it was old-fashioned. She thought it was right and it was true and it was what people in love did. People who were committing themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Like Sara Beth and Ted had done. Like Paul and Ramona were going to be doing.

Certainly not for Rourke and her.

The very idea of it struck her as blasphemous.

“There is just one more detail,” he added.

Her nerves tightened until they vibrated at a screaming pitch. “What?”

“The terms of our arrangement are to be kept private. As far as the rest of the world will know—including your family and your friends as well as mine—this will be a traditional marriage. Entered into for all of the traditional reasons.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Like what? Love? Who’s going to believe that we’re in love?”

His gaze suddenly focused on her mouth. His voice dropped. “I think we can be convincing enough.”

She felt scorched and wanted badly to blame it on her temper. On the impossible position he was forcing her into.

But she was fresh out of strength to even maintain that simple of a lie to herself.

“What if I have a problem carrying the baby?” She tossed out the possibility with a hint of desperation. The fertilization itself wouldn’t be a problem. Obviously. In vitro fertilization—IVF—was just one of the specialties at the institute.

But carrying the baby to term once it was implanted?

Her sister, Olivia, was proof that not every pregnancy made it to term. Who was she to say that she might not have Olivia’s tendency toward miscarriage?

But even as she thought it, her common sense rejected it. Physically, Olivia was as delicate as an orchid. Her sister’s body simply wasn’t built to bear children. Lisa was about as delicate as an oak tree.

“You’re in excellent health,” he said. “There’s no reason to believe you would have difficulty.”

“How do you know I’m in excellent health?” Her jaw tightened. “Maybe I…maybe I have an STD!”

He laughed softly. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”

She flushed. There was no earthly way that Rourke could know that she hadn’t been involved with anyone—that way—since she’d been in college. Years. Followed by more years. “None of your business.”

“It is when you’re going to be carrying my baby inside of you.”

Her knees felt weak. She moved around him—uncaring that he seemed to find amusement in the distance she kept between them—and sat down on one of the carved benches.

“It’s academic, anyway,” he commented. He plucked a leaf from the hedge nearest him and twirled it between his fingers.

A distant part of her brain envied him that ability to look so calm when everything was going to hell in a handbasket.

“It doesn’t matter how many lovers you’ve had,” he went on. “Or haven’t had. You had your annual physical last month just like you’ve done for years. You’re as healthy as a horse. You don’t even have a prescription for birth control pills.”

Her jaw dropped. “How do you know that?”

He just continued watching her. Leaving her with mad scenarios of stolen medical files running rampant through her head. But that would have taken forethought, wouldn’t it?

She eyed him, not certain of anything anymore. “You’ve thought of everything, I guess.”

“And now it’s time for you to do your thinking.”

But she just shook her head and looked away from him. “There is no choice.” And he knew it.

“You’ll do what it takes to save the institute?”

He let go of the leaf. Her eyes watched it swirl around in circles until it landed on the gravel between them.

“Yes.” She looked up at him. “You’ve got a deal.”