Читать книгу More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh: More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh - Emilie Rose - Страница 9

Apparently it didn’t matter which side of the desk Nicole sat on. Today was her day to receive bad news.

She stared in dismay at the woman in front of her. “You’re saying he’s correct. Ryan Patrick has more right to my baby than I do?”

While her attorney’s smile and brown eyes were sympathetic, they didn’t offer much encouragement. “I’m sorry, Nicole. The clinic confirmed his story. There was a mix-up. Biologically, this is his child unless DNA testing proves otherwise.”

“But my doctor said I couldn’t do prenatal DNA testing without significant risk to the baby. So that’s out of the question.” Nicole had called her in a panic the minute Ryan Patrick left her office. “I don’t think I can stand seven more months of uncertainty.”

“I understand. And it really isn’t necessary since the lot number of Ryan Patrick’s…contribution was found written on your record. Too bad the technician didn’t double-check it beforehand.”

She was carrying a stranger’s baby.

Not Patrick’s.

Disappointment and helpless frustration filled her with an antsy urge to climb out of her skin. “Is the contract even valid since the baby isn’t Patrick’s?”

“The wording states you’re providing them with a child, and that you have no intention of claiming that child. It doesn’t specify paternity. The agreement is pretty ironclad. They used all the right phrases to protect themselves in case you changed your mind, and since we didn’t think that would be an issue, I didn’t strike or amend the clause.”

A heavy weight settled on Nicole’s chest. “I don’t want Ryan Patrick to get custody. If he does, I may never see my baby again. At least Beth promised me I could be a hands-on aunt.”

“But you didn’t get that promise in writing, so it wouldn’t hold up in court. I wish I could say the chances of Mr. Patrick winning at least partial custody were slim, but they’re not.

“This isn’t your fight, Nicole, unless you elect to try and revoke your surrogacy contract which I can tell you will be a tough and expensive battle. If you choose that route you’ll fight your sister and her husband first, and then the winner of your battle will fight the baby’s father.”

A lose-lose proposition. “Breaking the contract would destroy my relationship with my family. I won’t do that. My family is too important to me.”

Her attorney nodded. “Then your first order of business is to talk to Beth and Patrick. Tell them what you’ve discovered. Make sure they still want to adopt this child. Their decision determines your next action.”

The idea of confronting Beth and Patrick and the fear of what they’d say made her queasy. Her dream of having Patrick’s baby had become a nightmare. Or had it? She’d given up long ago on ever having children of her own.

“If Beth and Patrick no longer want this baby, can I keep it?”

“Your odds of winning either way are not good. The day you signed the waiver to relinquish to your sister and brother-in-law you knowingly entered into this agreement with no intention of parenting this child. Precedents in Texas and California have granted custody to the father in similar situations.”

That was not what she wanted to hear. But even if she could keep her baby, what did she know about good parenting? Her parents certainly hadn’t set an example to emulate. They’d been gone more than they’d been at home, and when they’d been at home they both tended to be self-centered. Not a pretty picture despite the united front they presented to the world.

“In the meantime,” her attorney continued, “I’ll pursue legal action against the clinic. Besides their negligence, they’ve violated so many rules and regulations by releasing your personal information to Mr. Patrick without following proper legal channels that the courts and several regulatory agencies will be occupied for a long time.”

“I…I suppose that has to be done to prevent the clinic doing this to someone else. I’ll talk to Beth and Patrick this afternoon.” Until then she had no idea where she stood.

And that was one conversation she dreaded more than anything she’d ever had to do in her life except for smiling through congratulating the man she loved on marrying her sister.

“Nicole, I’d like to caution you to be civil to Mr. Patrick. In my thirty years of experience I’ve learned the more contentious the fight becomes, the uglier and more expensive it gets. People forget about doing what’s right and start fighting to win at all costs.”

Nicole had a sinking feeling Ryan Patrick didn’t like losing, and he could afford to fight a lot longer than she could.

Beth and Patrick’s silence spoke volumes as did the look they exchanged.

Nicole’s stomach cramped with tension while she waited for their response to her bad news. She dampened her dry lips. “So the baby is still yours…if you want it.”

Beth gave her a patient smile. “Of course we want the baby, Nicole. The child is yours and therefore related to us.”

Relief loosened the knots in Nicole’s muscles.

“Beth, a legal battle could be expensive,” Patrick pointed out with his usual pragmatism.

“This baby is a Hightower, dear,” Beth countered. “We can’t let that man break up our family.”

Beth and Patrick shared another long, speaking glance, and a teensy twinge of jealousy pricked Nicole. In the three months she and Patrick had dated before she’d brought him home to meet her parents and siblings she and he had never shared that type of silent communication.

But Beth and Patrick had been married for a long time, Nicole reminded herself. They’d had time to develop those skills. If things had gone differently, if Nicole and Patrick had married as she’d once believed they would, then they would have been the ones with that special bond. Wouldn’t they?

But Patrick had preferred her sister, and Nicole wanted him to be happy—even if it wasn’t with her. He was one of a kind and the only man who’d ever win her heart. She wasn’t like her mother who flitted from one affair to the next searching for some fantasy that didn’t exist.

“Beth,” Patrick protested.

“Nicole is doing this oh-so-generous thing for me—for us—to repay me for looking after her when we were growing up. How could I refuse such a selfless gift? And we do want a baby more than anything, don’t we?”

“Right. More than anything.”

Did Patrick’s tone sound a little bitter and resentful? No. He was just shaken and disappointed by Nicole’s news. He’d wanted to be a father and now he wasn’t…biologically, anyway. And if he was on edge it was only because he and Beth had been trying to conceive for more than three years. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with either of them and didn’t have a clue to the cause of Beth’s unexplained infertility.

Thank God Nicole had conceived on the first try. Otherwise—

You’d have come to your senses.

Lea’s nagging voice echoed in Nicole’s head. She squelched it. Her assistant didn’t understand how much Beth had sacrificed for Nicole to have a regular childhood. Beth had forfeited dates, the prom, going to college among other things to play substitute mom while their globe-trotting parents gallivanted frequently and parented sporadically.

Carrying a child for Beth was the least Nicole could do.

“This could get expensive,” Patrick persisted. “You know how much we’re already spending on—”

“On getting ready for the baby,” Beth replied with a tight smile. “Yes, darling, I know. But Nicole doesn’t need to worry about that. She needs someone to take care of her little problem, and taking care of problems is what I do best.” Beth turned to Nicole. “Don’t worry yourself. Big sister will handle everything. Just like I’ve always done.” Nicole stifled a wince. Yes, there had been dozens of incidents when Beth had covered for Nicole—none of which Nicole was proud of these days. But somehow Nicole didn’t feel as confident in her sister’s abilities this time. She wasn’t sure that even the mighty Beth could deter Ryan Patrick from his goal.

Her baby would be happy here, Nicole assured herself as she lugged a mountain of insulated food containers past a black Corvette convertible and up Beth’s concrete sidewalk between rows of blooming dianthus, begonias and hostas.

Beth and Patrick had bought the large two-story traditional brick home with the lush emerald lawn and white picket fenced backyard with a large family in mind. On any given weekend morning children laughed and played in the neighborhood, riding their bicycles in the cul-de-sac. What more could any child want?

And what more could any woman want for her child?

You’ve made the right decision. All you have to do is keep Ryan Patrick from upsetting your plan.

The smell of roasting meat filled the air, made her mouth water and thankfully, distracted her from her negative thoughts. She’d been running since her feet hit the floor at five this morning, and she’d barely had time to eat a granola bar for breakfast and swallow her prenatal vitamins.

Letting herself in Beth’s side door the way she always did, Nicole checked the kitchen. Empty. That was odd since there was so much to do before the guests arrived at noon. Beth and Patrick were probably getting dressed.

Nicole deposited the food she’d prepared for the party on the counter then put the cold items in the fridge and the warm items in the oven on low heat.

Next on the agenda, the backyard. She stepped onto the stoop, scanned the fenced area and smiled. The weather on this first weekend in September couldn’t be more perfect for a picnic. The sun was out, but the expected afternoon high temperature wouldn’t be too hot or too cool. This close to autumn it was difficult to anticipate what Knoxville’s weather would be when planning weeks or months in advance as she always did.

The additional tables she’d rented had been delivered and set up on the grass. The party supply company had draped the tables with red-and-white checkered cloths and decorated each with a potted blooming red or white geranium as Nicole had instructed. Everything looked bright and cheerful, the perfect place to announce the family would be growing.

A lanky apron- and ball cap–wearing man stood by the massive grill on the edge of the large flagstone patio.

“Good morning,” she called out as she approached him. “I’m Nicole Hightower.”

He nodded and shook her hand. “Bill Smith. Your renta-chef. Great day for a pig pickin’.”

“Yes. Do you have everything you need, Bill?”

“Yes, ma’am. Pig’s ‘bout done. I just put on the chicken. Veggie skewers will go on in a few minutes.”

Her stomach rumbled in anticipation, but she had too much to do to get ready for the others’ arrivals to take time for a snack. “Excellent. Please help yourself to a soda or iced tea, and don’t hesitate to ask me for anything you need.”

“Thank you.”

She lifted a lid on a nearby cooler and found it filled with ice and canned sodas and bottled water as requested. The second cooler revealed more ice and beer—the varieties her brothers preferred and a couple of magnums of champagne. Perfect. She’d definitely use this party company again. Letting someone else do the grunt work was far better than making Patrick and Beth get up at the crack of dawn to attend to the tasks or racing over here to do it herself.

Beth hated planning events. That’s why Nicole always landed the job, and she didn’t mind because making sure things ran smoothly was sort of an obsession with her. Now more than ever. She brushed a hand over her belly.

The family picnic was a Labor Day weekend tradition—one she’d started herself after Beth and Patrick had married. If anything needed to run smoothly, today’s event did. For the most part her family members got along well, but this year they’d have not only the stress of Nicole’s pregnancy news to contend with, but also the pressure of the newest Hightower—a younger half sister none of them had known about until a month ago when she’d shown up on their doorstep and their mother had insisted she be given a job at Hightower Aviation.

Having a living, breathing reminder that her mother was a bit…um, free with her affection had been unsettling to say the least. In the past everyone including their father had pretended not to notice Jacqueline Hightower’s indiscretions, and no one talked about her affairs. It would be hard to ignore the situation with her mother’s love child at the family gathering. And how had her mother hidden a daughter for twenty-five years, anyway?

Nicole headed back to the house. From the kitchen she followed the sound of Beth’s voice toward the living room. Her sister’s tone wasn’t the one she used when talking to Patrick. Some of the nonfamily party guests must have arrived early. Probably the owner of the convertible.

“The child is not yours.” The deep voice stopped Nicole in her tracks in the foyer.

Ryan Patrick was here. Talking to Beth.

“The baby is Nicole’s,” Beth replied.

“Sweetheart,” Patrick interjected in that gentle, patient tone of his that Nicole adored. “You do understand that Mr. Patrick is offering us a lot of money to accommodate him.”

Nicole’s mouth dried and panic caused her heart to gallop. That devious bastard was trying to bribe her sister and brother-in-law into giving up her baby.

If he brainwashed Beth and Patrick, he could cut Nicole out of the child’s life altogether. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

She rushed into the room. “How dare you go behind my back?”

Ryan slowly unfolded from the leather wingback chair. His cobalt eyes locked with hers. “I’m going to the ones who have the power to make a decision—the right decision to allow this child to live with his natural father.”

She couldn’t help noticing the way his charcoal suit, pale blue shirt and crimson tie accentuated his good looks and athletic frame. But pretty is as pretty does, or so one of their many nannies had always said. And what Ryan Patrick was doing was downright ugly.

“I told you, you’re not getting this baby.”

He shoved the lapels of his suit coat aside and planted his hands on his lean hips. “If you’ve consulted your attorney, then you know that you don’t have any say in the matter.”

Unless she went to war with her family. And even then her chances were slim. She glanced at Beth and Patrick and hugged her churning middle. She couldn’t start a family feud. Her mother had wreaked enough havoc on them all over the years.

Patience, politeness and perseverance. Her motto echoed in her head. Every problem had a solution. All she had to do was find it. In the meantime, she’d have to be nice to the jerk if she wanted any chance of wringing a positive outcome from this situation. She hated sucking up to blowhards, but she’d mastered the skill.

“Could I speak with you outside a moment?” she said through a smile stretched so tightly her cheeks hurt.

Ryan gestured toward the door.

Trying to ignore the delicious tang of his cologne, she accompanied him to the center hall then led the way to the back door. He reached past her to open it for her. She marched across the backyard, heading toward the gazebo in the back corner of the lot with Ryan close on her heels. Too close.

Inside the jasmine-draped structure she put as much distance between them as the shelter would permit before facing him. How could she make him see reason?

“Do you have any brothers and sisters, Ryan?” His name felt awkward on her tongue. But she couldn’t keep calling him Mr. Patrick. Each time she said his last name she thought of the man inside the house—the man whose baby she should be carrying.

“No.”

So much for appealing to his family nature. He didn’t have one. “Then you can’t possibly understand how important it is for me to have this child for my sister.”

“That’s irrelevant. It’s not her kid. It’s mine.”

She couldn’t argue with facts. She took a calming breath and tried a different tactic. “She has been yearning for a baby for years, and she’ll love this one as if it were hers. How much experience do you have with children?”

“I’ll learn what I need to know.”

The stubborn blockhead. She had to find a way to convince him that the baby would be better off with Beth and Patrick. But how? The answer was almost too easy. She smiled.

“As you can see from the setup, we’re having a party in a few minutes. It will be mostly family with a few friends and neighbors thrown into the mix. Please join us.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“So you can see what a great life Beth and Patrick can give this baby. The child will be surrounded by a loving family. He or she will have aunts and uncles and soon, cousins. My sister-in-law is expecting to deliver just a few months before me.”

“You won’t change my mind.”

Maybe not. But it was a risk she had to take if she wanted to be a part of her baby’s life. “All I ask is that you keep an open mind and see what you’re determined to deny this child. Join us, Ryan…unless you’re allergic to good food and good company.”

He stiffened at her implied challenge and accepted her dare with a slight dip of his chin. But his drilling stare warned her he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. For the next four hours she would have her work cut out for her in convincing him to change his mind.

Her baby’s future and her role in it depended on her success in making Ryan Patrick agree to go away empty-handed.

Forty people milled about Beth and Patrick Ryan’s backyard. But only one held Ryan’s attention. Nicole Hightower.

He shouldn’t find her attractive. She wasn’t his type. He liked his women curvy and soothing. Nicole bordered on too slender and restless. Not only could she not stand still for more than thirty seconds, but also her lean build didn’t include the matronly “breeding hips” he’d chosen for his surrogate. Yet he had no problem imagining her nursing a baby at the small, but firm-looking breasts outlined by her sundress.

Not a thought he needed to entertain since that would not happen with his child. His child would be bottle-fed by a nanny from day one.

Nicole’s aqua eyes turned his way, hitting him with another megavolt jolt of awareness. She’d nailed him with a similar glance several times this afternoon, and he couldn’t prevent the unwelcome gut-jarring reaction each time their gazes met.

He didn’t want a relationship with her other than a contractual one. If all went according to his plan, she’d have his kid, hand it over and get out of his life. He didn’t want her underfoot and interfering. He didn’t need the drama.

Nicole indicated his beer with a slight nod. He shook his head. Drinking to excess didn’t mix well with sexual attraction unless he intended to end up in bed with the object of his attention. He’d done that often enough in the past couple of decades to push his father into concocting the stupid stipulation that Ryan prove his stability and maturity if he wanted to take over the reins of Patrick Architectural upon his father’s retirement next summer. If Ryan failed, his father had threatened to sell the firm. That made ignoring the chemistry between him and Nicole imperative because another short-term affair—no matter how hot it might burn before it fizzled out—wouldn’t help his cause.

A breeze lifted Nicole’s long hair away from her face. He preferred the wavy caramel-colored strands loose and swishing between her shoulder blades instead of twisted up on her head the way they had been the day he’d confronted her at her office.

Not that his preferences counted.

Genetically, she should produce a good-looking kid. She was more attractive than the surrogate he’d hired. Her face was fine-boned and full-lipped, her smile quick and frequent—except when she looked at him. Then the stretch of her lips was slow and forced as if having him here were a pain in the rear.

Another thing he’d noticed this afternoon, Nicole was a toucher. Every time someone got close enough, she reached out and brushed a hand over their arm or shoulder or kissed a cheek. That’s why he’d kept his distance. He didn’t want a repeat of the zap she’d delivered with that first handshake the day they’d met. Chemistry was great. Unless it was unwanted. Then it was nothing but trouble.

He scanned the yard, passing over each of the Hightowers. He’d bet Nicole would look exactly like her mother in forty years. She possessed the same slender build, same features. Behavior-wise, other than the high energy level, Mamma Hightower was the opposite of her daughter. Whereas Nicole was friendly, but reserved, her mother was flirtatious, gregarious and sexually aware of every move she made in that way well-maintained wealthy older women exhibited when they’d been the type to bring men to their knees in their younger days.

Nicole’s father, a silent loner who nursed his imported beer in the shade of a tall oak tree, only spoke to those who sought him out. Her older twin brothers looked identical, but one was a player and the other appeared to be an unhappily married man with an eye that often strayed from his pregnant wife to the female guests.

Ryan’s gaze skimmed over neighbors and other company until it landed on Beth and Patrick Ryan huddled in the corner of the patio. They were arguing. Again. Ryan had caught several heated exchanges between them during the past three hours.

Nicole might believe this was the perfect setup for raising a child, but Ryan sensed trouble in this suburban, cookie-cutter paradise. The tension between the couple was palpable from fifty feet away, and it had been even more obvious when he’d presented his offer before the party. Just one more reason to make damned sure he got full custody. He didn’t want his kid to be a bone of contention in an ugly divorce the way he’d been. And he’d bet his Corvette, his boat and his motorcycle the Ryans would land in divorce court sooner than later.

Beth reminded him of his mother. She wore the same self-suffering martyr attitude his mother had pulled in the years after she’d packed up a ten-year-old Ryan and moved away from her husband. Millicent Patrick had spent the next eight years using Ryan as a weapon against his father and bitching about his father’s mistress—work.

Her complaints had fallen on deaf ears. A love of architecture was something he and his father had had in common even back when Ryan had been a snot-nosed kid. For as far back as he could remember, Ryan had spent hours beside his father’s drafting table asking questions, begging to be allowed to “help.” His father had always indulged him until the separation after which he’d had little time for his only son.

Work was the only mistress he and his father respected or committed to for the long haul. Women couldn’t be trusted or counted on. A lesson he’d learned the hard way compliments of his ex-wife, the lying, cheating bitch.

His gaze shifted to the youngest Hightower. She interested him because as much as she resembled her mother and Nicole, she didn’t fit in. The roar of her Harley splitting the silence of the neighborhood had been his first clue. Like him, she was an outsider here. Not even Nicole’s frequent attempts at drawing her sister into the crowd could breach the gap between her and the rest of the siblings. And Nicole seemed to be the only one making an effort to include her sister.

The Hightower in question looked up, caught his eye and headed in his direction. Her black leather boots and jeans-covered legs crossed the lawn with a long stride. In the past the rebel in her would have called to the rebel in him. But for some reason, her wild side didn’t twitch his interest today.

She stopped in front of him. “You don’t look like one of Beth’s snooty neighbors.”

Ryan smiled. He’d made the same assumption about the guests’ attitudes. He offered his hand. “Ryan Patrick and, no, I don’t live in the area.”

Her eyebrows rose when she heard his name, but she didn’t comment. Her handshake was firm and brief with no sparks despite her resemblance to her sister. “Lauren Lynch.”

She looked enough like Nicole that he would have sworn they were closely related. “You’re not a High-tower?”

“Jacqueline is my mother, but William isn’t my father. My father died a couple of months ago. And before you strain your brain trying to unravel that long, boring story, my mother had an affair with a Hightower Aviation pilot. I’m the byproduct. She delivered me, left me with my dad and returned to her husband and other children like a good little wife.”

That explained the tension between Lauren and the Hightower siblings. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She shrugged. “Thanks. Losing my dad was hard, but his passing gave me the opportunity to meet a family I didn’t know I had. So what brings you here? Are you a Hightower Aviation client?”

He wasn’t ready to reveal the truth. “Not yet, but I’m considering contracting the company.”

Access to a plane would make his life easier since he traveled the country on a regular basis. He definitely wanted to contract one of the Hightowers. But not for flying.

“Married?” Lauren asked.

He gave her credit for being direct. “Not anymore. You?”

“No way. Never have been. Probably never will be. Do you have any children?”

“Not yet.”

Lauren glanced down at her beer bottle then back up at him through lashes as long and thick as her sister’s. “Can I give you a hint?”

About what? “Sure.”

“Nicole’s probably the most decent one in the bunch. Maybe even the only decent Hightower. But she’s going to be a hard nut to crack because…Well, she just is. I’ll let you figure out the whys. Stick with her. She’s worth it.”

Were all women born with a matchmaking gene?

“What makes you think I’m interested in Nicole?”

Lauren grinned and sipped her beer. “Could be the way you’ve been watching her all afternoon.”

Guilty. But how else was he going to learn about the mother of his child? He searched for her. Nicole had joined her sister and brother-in-law and was currently engaged in a hushed but animated conversation. Nicole covered her belly with one hand. Her gaze bounced over the crowd and landed on Ryan. He didn’t know what her sister had said to upset her, but the distress on her face was clear. Adrenaline shot through his system.

“Go ahead,” Lauren prompted.

“Go ahead and what?”

“Ride to her rescue. You know you want to.”

Smart girl. “Is Nicole the type to need rescuing?”

Lauren grimaced. “Let’s just say if I were her, I would have told this bunch of leeches to go to hell a long time ago. But she’s the one deputized to maintain the peace.”

Lauren was full of interesting factoids. One of these days he’d buy her dinner and pick her brain. “Nice meeting you, Lauren.”

“You, too, Ryan. And good luck.”

He wasn’t going to need luck. He had the law on his side.

His feet carried him across the grass to the trio. “Problem?”

Beth shook her head and gave him a disingenuous smile—the only kind he’d seen from her to date. “We’ve decided against announcing Nicole’s pregnancy today.”

He liked the sound of that. The longer they delayed, the more time he’d have to prepare for the possibility of the entire Hightower clan siding against him. The extra time would give him time to plot a new strategy.

But why would the decision to keep the news under wraps upset Nicole? He searched her face, but didn’t find his answer.

Little did she know, she’d done him a favor by showing him the dissension amongst the Hightowers, and she’d given him ammunition toward suing for sole custody.

He needed to divide and conquer the trio wanting a piece of his kid, starting with the weakest link. Nicole’s brother-in-law, the greedy bastard.