Читать книгу More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh - Emilie Rose - Страница 13

Ryan couldn’t remember the last time a woman had fallen asleep on him without the prelude of mind-blowing sex. The sleep part had always been his cue to slip out and avoid the postmortem. Leaving wasn’t an option now.

Waiting for the red light to change, he silently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and let his gaze skim over Nicole’s face. Her thick lashes couldn’t conceal the lavender circles beneath her eyes. According to her clinic file she was about ten weeks pregnant, in her first trimester.

Jeanette had slept a lot, too, during those early weeks. She’d missed enough classes to flunk out of college. His ex had also complained incessantly about her lack of energy, her nausea and her frequent need to pee—as if each irritation had been Ryan’s fault. She’d wanted to be waited on hand and foot and played every sympathy card in the deck. Love-struck sucker that he’d been he’d fallen for her act. His mother’s manipulative attitude should have made him immune to those kinds of tricks, but the old “Love is blind” adage had certainly applied to him.

Nicole, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word about her condition. She hadn’t even complained about being hungry. She’d simply pulled a snack and a bottle of water from her tote bag. And then twenty minutes ago in the middle of discussing the pros and cons of the house they’d toured she’d trailed off midsentence. He’d looked over and found her slumped sideway in her seat asleep.

The tilted position caused her V-neck top to gape, revealing the swell of her pale breasts. That distracting sight combined with her soft, parted lips had hit him with a grenade of hunger.

The urge to stroke a silky lock of hair from her cheek was about as welcome as a severe case of poison ivy. He shook off the feeling and focused on their earlier conversation. She was right about the water hazard. He couldn’t be sure any nanny he hired would be diligent enough to never let the kid out of sight. That was one reason he appreciated Nicole’s perspective. While he’d examined the structural integrity of the house she studied the practical aspects. Teamwork.

He checked his watch. He’d driven around for the past twenty minutes to let Nicole sleep, but now it was time to implement phase two of his plan. The light changed. He accelerated and turned toward the restaurant where he knew his father would be meeting his golf buddies later for the obligatory after-eighteen-holes cocktails.

After he snagged a parking space he killed the engine. As soon as the car fell silent Nicole’s lids fluttered open. She sat up quickly, scanned her surroundings and touched her chin as if checking for drool. He found the insecure gesture oddly endearing. His lips twitched.

Those eyes hit him like laser beams, and he felt the heat and the pull deep in his gut. He took a mental giant step backward. The need to test the softness of her lips was damned hard to resist. If she weren’t carrying his child, he’d act on this attraction, but the pregnancy was a complication. That didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted. He just had better sense. Having an affair plus sharing a child with her meant a continuing connection. He wasn’t going there. This kid would be his and his alone, not leverage between parents. Once he had custody of the child he didn’t intend to see her again.

Nicole smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry. I must have drifted off. Why are we here?”

“I made dinner reservations.”

She blinked. “You’re assuming I’ll eat with you.”

Her less than enthusiastic response took a bite out of his ego. He wasn’t used to women refusing his company.

“I’m assuming you’re hungry. Other than the squirrel food you pulled out of your purse over an hour ago, you’ve had nothing to eat all afternoon. In my experience pregnant women need to eat regularly.”

“Dried fruit is a healthy snack.”

“It wasn’t substantial enough to keep a rodent going. Did you have other plans tonight?”

She glanced at the steak house, inhaled deeply and licked her lips. No doubt the aroma of grilling beef emanating from the premises made her mouth water as it did his. That was the only reason his mouth dampened. His reaction had nothing to do with the slow glide of her pink tongue. “No.”

“Then let’s eat. You can give me a list of things the agent needs to look for in the next house.” He climbed from the vehicle and came around to her side. He reached her just in time to see her swing those long legs out the door. Her thigh and calf muscles flexed beneath the hem of her above-the-knee-length dress as she rose. She had great muscle tone, but she was lean like a distance biker or a runner.

He offered a hand which she ignored. Point taken. She didn’t want this to feel like a date any more than he did. And while part of him respected the boundaries she marked, another part of him wanted an excuse for contact. But that would be flirting with danger. Not smart.

As he escorted her to the entrance he placed his palm at the base of her spine. Her startled jump let him know his touch wasn’t welcome, and the tingle rising up his arm warned him that he danced on a hazardous edge.

Inside the darkened pub-style interior he gave the hostess his name. She led him and Nicole toward the table for two he’d requested. His gaze drifted past Nicole’s slender waist to her slim hips in the burgundy dress. No one would guess her condition if she didn’t tell them, and he was counting on her not volunteering the information in the next hour.

The waitress took their drink and appetizer orders and left them a basket of rolls. Nicole immediately selected a piece of bread, split it open and slathered butter on the steaming center. The hot yeasty smell reached across the table.

Her blissful expression as she tore off small pieces and tucked them between her lips made it look as if the bread were the most delicious thing she’d ever put in her mouth. For some reason that made him think of sex. Would she look the same when she took a man inside her?

He reached for his iced water, but clenching the cold glass didn’t distract him. The woman was getting to him—probably a combination of knowing he couldn’t have her and his recent celibacy. Since he’d begun his surrogate search he hadn’t had time for a relationship. All the energy he hadn’t devoted to his job had been expended on reaching his goal.

“You’ve shot down two houses. Do you have any suggestions for where to look next?”

“North Knoxville is nice.”

Near her sister’s suburban cookie-cutter neighborhood. Decent area, but a little too stifling for his tastes. “If I had time I’d design and build a house.”

“Why don’t you?”

He hoped the kid had her eyes. The color reminded him of the Caribbean waters off the bow of the sailing yacht he’d cruised on last summer. “Six months isn’t long enough to do it right.”

“If you used your surrogate you’d have more time.”

The statement surprised a chuckle out of him. Persistent, wasn’t she? He gave her credit for trying. “She’s been paid for her time and released from her contract.”

“I’m sure you could get her back if you wanted—”

“I don’t.”

She abandoned the last bite of bread. “Ryan, it would be easier for everyone if you let this go.”

“The easy way isn’t always the right way. And time is an issue. I want a baby before next summer.” Before his father retired.

The front door swung open. His father and his buddies walked in right on time. Dear old Dad had a habit of scanning any room to search for potential connections. Ryan always did the same, but he hoped he was more subtle. As expected, his father spotted them and broke away from his group to stride in Ryan’s direction.

He stopped by the table and, ignoring Ryan, offered his hand to Nicole with as much polish as a politician. “We haven’t met. I’m Harlan Patrick. You’re Nicole Hightower.”

Nicole blinked and sent a quick questioning glance Ryan’s way before pasting on a professional smile. “Yes. You’re Ryan’s father?”

She couldn’t miss the resemblance. His father might be six inches shorter and twenty pounds heavier, but otherwise, they looked a lot alike. Same hair. Same eyes. Same profile. The Patrick Irish genes were strong.

“That’s right. Ryan, you didn’t tell me you were dining here tonight. You could have joined us.”

“Nicole and I have business to discuss.”

Ryan had chosen this table specifically because there wasn’t any space for his father and his cronies to pull up another and join them. Nicole didn’t seem like the type to blurt her condition to a stranger before she’d informed the rest of her family, but he didn’t want to risk the news of her pregnancy slipping out and shocking the ultraconservative golfers—particularly his father who would definitely find fault with Ryan’s method of providing an heir. After the fact was soon enough.

“Would you like to join us in the bar for a drink?” His father addressed Nicole.

“Nicole doesn’t drink.” Not while she was carrying his kid.

His father shot him a scowl. “I’d like to hear more about Hightower Aviation. Patrick Architectural is considering engaging your services.”

He noted his father didn’t give him credit for the idea. He caught another flash of panic in Nicole’s eyes. A pleat formed between her eyebrows before she turned back to his father. “I’m sure HAMC could meet your needs, but our sales department can answer your questions better than I can.”

She dug in her purse, extracted a business card and pen and scribbled something on the back. “This is my brother Brent’s direct line. Why don’t you give him a call?”

Brent. The one who was probably cheating on his wife. After three minutes of his company at the picnic Ryan didn’t like or trust the guy, and he didn’t want him anywhere near his kid.

He took the card before his father could. “I’ve already spoken to one of your sales reps, Nicole, and given my father his card and a current brochure.”

Nicole met his gaze. The color leeched from her face and a trapped look entered her eyes. “You didn’t mention you’d been thinking of contracting our services.”

“I’ve been investigating the possibility, and as I said, I’ve spoken to one of your salesmen. The idea is financially viable for us.” He turned to his father. “Dad, if you’ll excuse us?”

For some reason he was tired of sharing Nicole’s company. The downward twitch of his father’s lip told Ryan he didn’t like being invited to leave, but after a moment Harlan nodded. “I’ll talk to you later, Ryan. Nice meeting you, Ms. Hightower.”

“You, too, sir.” Her worry-filled eyes turned on Ryan as soon as his father was out of hearing range. “Why are you doing this?”

“This?”

“Intruding into my life.”

“You have something I want. I’ll stop at nothing to get it.” And in this instance, winning was everything.

Darkness had fallen by the time Ryan paid the tab for dinner and escorted her from the steak house, increasing the sense of entrapment choking Nicole as they drove toward her home.

Ryan was crowding her and she didn’t like it. Her nails bit into her palms in the shadowy confines of his luxury sports car. “There are other airline management companies, you know. I could recommend a good one.”

Ryan cut her a look, his face illuminated by the dashboard lights. “I’ve done my research. Hightower is the best. You have the largest staff and offer the widest selection of aircraft. HAMC has three global operating centers and a higher safety rating than any of your competitors. You provide services 24/7/365 on four hours’ notice. The other companies can’t compete.”

All facts straight from the HAMC brochure, but hearing them from Ryan’s lips turned the Cajun chicken pasta she’d eaten to lead in her stomach. If she couldn’t talk him out of contracting HAMC, she’d be seeing him more often and that wasn’t a good thing unless it gave her a link to her baby. But she’d prefer to get rid of that complication by getting rid of Ryan Patrick.

“Your Web page doesn’t list any international projects. That makes one of the smaller companies more feasible and less expensive for you.”

“Logistically it didn’t make sense for us to accept overseas jobs in the past because we do a lot of hands-on consulting after a project has begun. If we contract Hightower Aviation, we won’t have to turn them down in the future.”

Panic swelled inside her at the certainty in his voice. With any other man his confidence would have been attractive, but not so here. “Bigger isn’t always better.”

He kept his gaze on the road, but the amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes and carving a groove in his cheek told her he knew she was trying to run him off. “I’m surprised HAMC is still a privately owned company. Some corporate giant should have overtaken you by now.”

She shrugged her stiff shoulders and realized he couldn’t see the gesture. “Several have tried. My brother Trent is determined to prevent that from happening.”

“You’re financially strong and have a low debt to asset ratio. The odds are in your favor.”

Her mouth went dry. “You’ve been checking up on us.”

“I’d study any company I intended to indebt Patrick Architectural a million plus dollars with over a five-year period.”

Five years of seeing Ryan on a regular basis. She gulped.

She shouldn’t be surprised by his diligence. From what she’d seen he wasn’t stupid, just misguided and stubborn about the baby issue. “Still, a long-term commitment to a plane is a huge expense and a risky move in the current economic environment. You should be very, very sure before you contract our services.”

“I’m sure—especially now that I’ll have a child to rush home to. Less time on the road means more time with my kid.”

The road to her personal hell was paved with his good intentions.

Her heart sank as she realized she might not be able to dissuade him from the custody battle.

He turned the car into her condo complex and parked in her driveway. She instantly reached for the door handle. “Thanks for dinner. But please call me before setting any more appointments to see houses. I do have other obligations.”

“What could be more important than providing a safe home for this child?”

Nothing. She hated that he was right. She shoved open the door, bailed out and headed up the walk. The quiet thump of his soles echoing the rapid tap of her heels told her she hadn’t escaped him. He followed her up the shallow stairs to her front door and crowded onto her tiny porch.

Her hanging baskets of petunias filled the humid evening air with their sweet smell, but they couldn’t completely mask the subtle citrus tang of his cologne. It took her three tries to get the key into the lock. She twisted hard and fast and opened her door. Determined to get rid of him ASAP, she quickly stepped inside and turned abruptly to say goodbye. She collided with Ryan who had decided to follow her into her foyer despite the lack of invitation. The impact punched the air from her lungs and knocked her off balance.

Ryan grabbed her elbows to steady her. His pelvis, the length of his thighs and his chest pressed hers, scorching her. Her stomach did a funny flip-flop thing, then a spark of awareness flickered to life.

Nicole stared into his bright blue eyes, watching as Ryan’s pupils expanded and his lips parted. The burn in her abdomen intensified and spread, warming and weighting her limbs. She couldn’t get enough air through her nose and had to gulp deep breaths which only increased the pressure of his chest to her breast.

Back away, Nicole.

But she couldn’t. Her muscles mutinied, refusing to take orders from her mind.

His gaze drifted to her mouth and panic pulsed through her. Surely he wasn’t going to—His hands tightened and his head lowered, slowing down her brain. Transfixed she watched him come closer. Her heart raced and her breath hitched.

“Ryan, don’t—”

His mouth smothered her protest. His lips were surprisingly soft, but at the same time commanding and hungry, plying hers with an expertise she couldn’t help appreciating. She lifted her arms up to push him away, but her bullheaded fingers dug into his rock hard biceps and held on instead of shoving. Her muscles contracted, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

A shiver rippled through her like waves radiating from a stone thrown into a pond. His tongue stroked a molten trail across her bottom lip then penetrated, found hers and circled. A rush of desire shocked her, making her skin flush and her abdomen tighten.

She fought the heat spreading through her, and yet she couldn’t dam the seeping awareness or make herself move away. How could she respond so intensely to Ryan—or any man for that matter—with the way she felt about Patrick? A sound meant to be a protest but sounding more like a moan slipped from her mouth into his, echoing in his low growl.

Ryan eased back incrementally, his grip loosening and the warmth of his body slowly leaving hers until only their lips clung. And then those, too, parted.

Gasping for air, Nicole pressed her fingers to her mouth and tried not to pant. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Agreed.” His low, rough tone scraped over her exposed nerves like short nails on bare skin.

She hugged her arms around her middle and fought to stop the tremors that racked her. No man’s kiss had ever rocked her that intensely. Not even Patrick’s. She staggered back in her tiny foyer until her heels hit the bottom stair.

Why had Ryan’s kiss packed such a punch? She searched her brain for a logical explanation for her illogical reaction and grasped on to the first idea that came to her.

“We’re just drawn to each other because of our crazy situation. You’re not my type. I don’t want you.”

His gaze dropped to her breasts. She didn’t have to look down to know what he saw. Her nipples tingled, telling her they were tight and very likely tenting her blouse and contradicting her words. Damn her out-of-control hormones.

She’d read some pregnant women often craved sex, but she hadn’t expected to experience the phenomenon. While she liked sex, it had never been one of those things she couldn’t live without.

Ryan brushed her cheek with a fingertip. The simple touch hit her like a crackling power line. “I don’t want to want you, either, Nicole, but I find you very attractive.”

Hearing the gravelly words only exacerbated the needy spasms of her internal muscles. She dodged out of reach on unsteady legs, stopping in the archway leading to her den. “Please don’t say that or do that again.”

He held her gaze without blinking. “I’m not making promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

Her breath shuddered out, pounded out of her chest by her hammering heart. “You need to go.”

“I’ll call you when the real estate agent locates the next house.”

She wanted to scream at him to never call again.

But she couldn’t. Beth and Patrick were counting on her to keep the peace. Somehow, some way, she would not let them down.

“Way to go,” Trent said as he entered Nicole’s office Monday afternoon.

Her brother wasn’t the type to offer approval unless something really big had happened.

“What are you talking about?”

“Patrick Architectural just bought fractional ownership in a Cessna Citation X. They listed you as the referral.”

Not what she wanted to hear. But she’d been warned.

The Citation was the fastest midsize jet HAMC offered. She gave Ryan credit for going top-of-the-line. Her attention fell to the client file in Trent’s hand. His arm lifted, extending across her desk and offering a burgundy-and-gold folder. The color combination signified a contract for the highest level of service HAMC provided.

Déjà vu. Another document she didn’t want to read.

“They’ve requested you as their client aircraft manager.”

Her stomach plunged as if she’d just parachuted from a plane—something she’d never do again because she hadn’t enjoyed the being-out-of-control sensation. “Trent, my casebook is full. Please assign them another CAM.”

“Not an option.” His clipped tone warned her not to argue, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Not this time. She had too much to lose.

“I really can’t handle another client without my performance suffering on the ones I already have.”

“I doubt that will be a problem, but if you’re concerned we’ll shift some of your other customers to someone else.”

“No. I don’t want to give up any of my people. They’re like family.” And like every family, hers had some eccentrics who required special handling.

His eyebrows dived toward his nose. “Tough. This deal was contingent on your acceptance.”

She had to talk to Beth and get her sister to announce the pregnancy to the family. Until she did, Nicole couldn’t explain to her brother why she had to refuse Patrick Architectural. How could she work with someone when she was about to become embroiled in a nasty custody battle over the baby she carried with him? But until then…

“C’mon, Trent, I never argue and never refuse an assignment—not even the most difficult cases that others have dumped. You know that. So the fact that I’m asking for a break now tells you I need it.”

His face didn’t soften one iota. “Let Becky know who you’re handing over by the end of the day.”

“You’re pawning me off on your assistant? Trent—”

“Familiarize yourself with the file. Your first meeting with your new client is Friday afternoon, two o’clock.”

“But—”

“There are no buts, Nicole. It’s a done deal. Patrick Architectural is yours.” He dropped the file on her desk, pivoted and stalked out.

Case closed. Nobody won an argument with her big brother—especially when he was locked in stubborn mode.

Nicole flopped back in her office chair and stared at the ceiling. This could not happen. And it had nothing to do with that kiss. Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing.

Her lips tingled as if she could feel Ryan’s kiss again, and that stirred up a termites’ swarm in her belly. And termites left nothing but destruction in their path. She was very, very afraid Ryan might kiss her again, and that she’d do something stupid like her mother and act on that lust.

No, she wouldn’t. The kiss had been a fluke, a combination of out-of-control pregnancy hormones and the strange tie she had with him as the father of her baby. That’s all. She was certain of it.

Well…mostly certain.

She could call Ryan and plead conflict of interest, but she suspected her arguments would fall on deaf ears. He was tightening the screws and he’d show no mercy. That meant she had to talk to Beth. Now. She bolted to her feet, and ignoring a slight wave of dizziness, charged out of her office.

“Hey, where are you going?” Lea called out. “You have Tri-Tech in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. Normally she’d be at her desk reviewing the file ten minutes before a meeting. She couldn’t today.

“Are you okay?”

“I have to talk to Beth. I should be back, but if I’m not, make sure Ronnie gets his coffee with cream and three spoons of sugar, and a raspberry jelly donut.”

As the CAM in charge of each owner’s service team she knew her client’s preferences as well as she knew her own.

“Got it, boss.” Lea snapped a smart-aleck salute.

Nicole didn’t want to wait for the elevator or risk running into Ronnie coming up and have to return to her office before talking to her sister. She headed for the stairs and jogged down three flights. She was slightly winded and perspiration dampened her skin by the time she knocked on Beth’s open door.

With the phone to her ear, Beth held up one finger, pointed at the visitor chair and turned away. But Nicole couldn’t possibly sit still. She checked her watch. Eight minutes. She’d never been late for an appointment before and didn’t want to start now. She prided herself on promptness.

What felt like an eon later but was actually only two minutes—she knew because she counted off the seconds—Beth cradled the receiver and faced her. “What’s up?”

“We have to tell the family about the baby.”

Beth stiffened. “Not yet.”

“Beth, Ryan Patrick’s company just contracted us and demanded me as their CAM. I can’t do it. You and I know why, but I can’t tell Trent the reason I must be excused until you let the family in on our little secret.”

Beth bit her bottom lip, shifted in her seat and shook her head. “I’m not ready.”

“What do you mean, you’re not ready? I’ll be showing soon.”

Tense, silent seconds passed. “Nicole, Patrick and I are…having problems.”

Nicole’s heart stuttered. She knew they argued. “Every marriage has rough spots.”

“This is bigger than that.”

Her pulse fluttered. In the first few years of Beth and Patrick’s marriage, Nicole had selfishly wished for Patrick to realize he’d married the wrong sister. But that wasn’t what she wanted or needed now. If Beth and Patrick separated with Ryan circling like a shark, the custody issue would only get more complicated, and Ryan would stand a better chance of winning.

“Is it because the baby’s not his?”

Beth adjusted the pens on her desk. “That’s part of it.”

A fresh wave of panic hit. What would she do if they decided not to adopt her baby? Ryan would win and she might never see her child again.

“You’ll work it out, Beth. You’ve always worked it out before. You guys are perfect for each other. Remember?” She heard the desperate edge to her voice.

“This time is different.”

“I’ll help. I’ll talk to Patrick. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, but you guys have to stay together. You love each other.” The irony of begging for the man who possessed her heart to stay married to another woman didn’t escape her.

“Nicole, sometimes love is not enough. And the timing for the announcement is all wrong.”

“You’ve known for five weeks.”

“Give me a little more time,” Beth said with a tight smile. “And then everything will be settled.”

Nicole pressed a hand over the little life causing so much upheaval and felt the extra firmness beneath the skin. “I don’t have more time. And you know we’re having the ultrasound Wednesday. You’re going to want to share the pictures. The doctor even said she’d make a video of the baby for us.”

“Patrick and I will have to watch the video later. I’m not ready to share the news.”

Surprise rocked her back on her heels. “Later? You’re not coming to the appointment?”

Beth made a show of checking her calendar. “I can’t get away.”

Nicole couldn’t remember Beth ever lying to her before. Lying for her, sure. Many times. But she knew from the look in her sister’s eyes Beth was telling a whopper this time. Beth was HAMC’s publicist and there were no urgent marketing campaigns going on now. September was traditionally a slow month, and Beth’s office was practically a tomb. It had been no big deal when Patrick and Beth had skipped the earlier routine appointments, but this time they’d get their first look at their future son or daughter.

Pain made Nicole look down. She’d dug nails so deeply into her palms she’d broken a fingernail at the quick. Blood filled the tiny crack. That was going to hurt for a while.

But not as long as losing her baby would.

Her thoughts swirled like leaves in a windstorm. Needing to collect herself, she checked her watch and realized she was out of time. Panic rose within her.

“Beth. Please reconsider. I can’t keep Ryan on my client roster.”

“I’m sorry, Nicole, but we can’t make the announcement yet. Maybe in a few weeks.”

A few weeks. Two weeks ago Beth had barely been able to contain the news, then at the picnic she’d begged for a few more days. And now she was delaying weeks?

Nicole had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Something was really, really wrong, and until she knew what it was, she couldn’t fix it.

“Beth, I need your help.”

“This isn’t high school anymore, Nicole. It’s not as simple as lying for you like I did when you skipped class or picking you up when your date dumped you on the side of the road because you refused to put out, or forging Mom’s signature on a note home from your teacher. Handle your own damned problems for once and quit screaming for me.”

Stunned speechless by Beth’s vehemence, Nicole fisted her cold fingers by her side. She was on her own and she had no idea how to handle the disaster that had become her life.