Who Will Father My Baby?

The notion so surprised him that he choked, jerking his hand out of her grip. He coughed once, and in an attempt to cover the awkwardness of the moment, he cuffed his fist against his chest.

“You okay?” Worry clouded her gorgeous sky-blue eyes.

“Fine, fine,” he said, taking a step back in retreat. He felt an overwhelming need to put a little distance between them. So he could think. Try to make sense of these strange thoughts invading his mind.

“It’s hot out here, and I’m feeling dry. I need something to drink.” A stiff shot of whiskey was what he needed to steady this odd shock that had walloped him but good. He opened the screen door and inserted the key into the dead bolt. “Can I get you something? I’ve got lemonade. Iced tea. Beer—”

“A beer would be great.” She pulled back on the screen door, taking the weight of it off his shoulder.

He twisted to face her, and she was so…close. The blue of her eyes was dazzling. The tip of her nose was appealing. The bow of her top lip was calling his name…luring him….

He swallowed. “Actually, it may be hot out here, but it’ll be worse inside. I don’t leave the air-conditioning turned on when I’m gone through the day. It’ll take a few minutes for the house to cool off.”

“Oh.” She nodded. “In that case—” she took a backward step “—I’ll wait here in the shade of the porch.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

He shoved open the door and, heaving a huge sigh, made his way through the living room and into the kitchen. He plunked his hat down onto the counter and turned on the water spigot. After he worked the soap into plenty of suds, he rinsed his hands and forearms. He splashed cool water onto his face and neck, and then took a moment to simply stand in the quiet.

All that could be heard was an intermittent splat as droplets of water fell from his chin and nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. But the chaos of his thoughts couldn’t be held at bay for long, and curiosity had him shoving himself away from the sink. What was Lacy Rivers doing here? After all this time.

Well, he wasn’t going to discover anything while he was hiding here in the kitchen.

He dried his face and hands, and then pulled open the refrigerator door. The beer bottles felt cool against his palms. On his way back through the house, he stopped to turn up the central air. Then he pushed his way back out onto the porch.

Perfect porcelain knees. That’s what met his gaze the second he exited the house. She reclined in one of the two rocking chairs on the porch, her bare, sun-kissed legs crossed, one slender foot swinging lazily, the hem of her skirt rising just enough to offer him a tempting peek at her well-contoured thighs. The pale pink paint that coated the tips of her toes matched that on her fingernails and made her feet look delicate and sexy as hell.

Seemed as if all his eyes wanted to do was examine the cute little dimples below her kneecaps, rove over those lusciously sculpted calves, shapely ankles, narrow feet. He dragged his gaze to her face only to become enthralled by her full bottom lip, that perfect nose, her brilliant, azure eyes.

The woman was like a beautiful sorceress who had ensnared him in some sort of spell. But Dane knew the only enchantment going on here had to do with the curse of his runaway libido. It was as simple as that.

“You are finished for the day, aren’t you?” she asked. “I’d hate to think I was keeping you from your work.”

“The cattle are taken care of,” he said, twisting off the top of one bottle and offering it to her. At that moment, he was struck by a thought. “I’m sorry. I should have brought you a glass.”

She shook her head, her silky blond locks bobbing. “This is fine. Thanks.”

He continued, “There’s always some chore waiting to be done around the place. But I’ve put in enough hours. I’m all through for today.”

“Good,” she said, then glanced around her. “Nice spread you’ve got.”

“Thanks.” He lowered himself into the matching rocker, pausing long enough to take a swig of beer. The cold, yeasty brew felt marvelous rolling down his throat. “I’m half owner. My father-in-law owns the other half. We’re partners.”

“You’re married?”

“Was. Helen died some years ago.”

She murmured a compassionate response, empathy flooding her face, softening her already stunning features, and Dane thought his heart was going to jump right out of his chest.

He accepted her sympathy with a nod, unable to bring himself to reply further. That part of his life was hard to even remember, let alone talk about. The conversation sagged for a few awkward seconds.

“Those cows out there in the pasture sure are pretty,” she said.

Dane couldn’t stop the chuckle that erupted from deep in his chest. “I’ve never heard Black Angus described as pretty before. Strong, maybe. Healthy. But never pretty.”

She lifted the beer, pressed her soft, glistening lips to the bottle’s rim and took a drink. He couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where her mouth met the smooth brown glass. Before he realized it, she was smiling at him again.

His tongue and throat felt as arid as a dusty cow trail, and he wondered if he was suffering a bout of sunstroke or something. What the hell was the matter with him?

Quick wit sparkled in her pretty baby blues. “I was only trying to offer you a compliment.”

He nodded. “I appreciate it. We breed them, you know. So your praise is well taken.”

Alva’s beat-up truck rolled over the hill then, and Dane couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice as he commented, “There’s my father-in-law now. I’d better go see what he’s up to.”

He stood, and so did Lacy.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like to use your powder room. I’ve been on the road a good while.”

“Sure,” he told her. “It’s—”

“I’ll find it.” With a wink and a quick flash of a smile, she disappeared into the house.

That flirtatiousness caused a series of warm vibrations to trill through Dane’s innards. He sucked air into his lungs, hoping to settle himself, and then he flagged Alva to a stop as he descended the porch steps on wobbly knees. Boy, oh, boy, his father-in-law would tease him for a month of Sundays if he got wind of the ridiculous reaction Dane was having to Miss Lacy Rivers.

“Where are you off to?” he asked Alva. “I thought—”

“I changed my mind,” the older man said. “I want some lasagna. And I’ve reached the age where I should certainly have what I want. Hellfire, Dane, I might die in my sleep tonight, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

Alva’s ruffled feathers didn’t fool Dane. He knew what the man was up to.

One of his eyebrows arched high as he accused, “So, you’re just going to leave me here in the clutches of an encyclopedia salesman?”

The delighted sound Alva emitted could almost have been described as a wicked cackle. “Saleswoman, don’t you mean, boy?” He paused long enough to grin. “You should buy yourself a set of books. A little reading never hurt any man.”

Dane only shook his head at his father-in-law’s antics.

Then Alva’s knowing gaze sobered. “But she ain’t selling anything, is she?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, eyeing the door of Dane’s house. “The two of you looked…familiar sitting on the porch together as I drove up.”

“Familiar?” Dane’s forehead knitted. “That’s a strange word to use.”

Alva shrugged. “You do know her, though, don’t you?”

“Sort of,” he had to admit. “We went to the same college together. But that was a lifetime ago.”

“So the two of you have plenty of catching up to do,” Alva surmised. “You don’t need me hanging around. And it’s getting late. Be a gentleman. Invite the little lady to dinner. She can have my steak.”

“You don’t need to do this—”

“I told you,” the old man interrupted Dane’s protest, his grumpy tone back full force, “I feel like having Lottie’s lasagna tonight.”

Dane only shook his head. There was no changing the man’s mind once it was set. “Well, I hope you’ve got some antacid tablets in your medicine chest. You’re going to need them later.”

“Aw, now, you know my stomach is clad in iron.”

“You’re gonna wish it was,” Dane quipped as he stepped back from the truck.

More laughter rumbled from Alva. “You have fun chattering about old times.”

The truck tires kicked up grit and pebbles as he pulled off down the lane.

Hunger pangs pinched Dane’s stomach and he turned back toward his home. In that instant, Lacy opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

“It’s got to be close to your dinnertime,” she called to him. “Let’s go into town and find something to eat.” Then she added, “It’ll be on me.”

Her tone made him pause. That coaxing quality in her voice was enough to lead him to believe she was up to something. But that thought was pretty silly. He didn’t even know Lacy Rivers. And she sure didn’t know him. They hadn’t seen each other in years and years. If she was up to anything, he sure was stumped over figuring out what it could possibly be.

“Maybe she does want you to buy some encyclopedias.” He murmured the words under his breath as he started toward her, doing his best to contain the humorous grin that the idea churned up.

“Pardon?”

He did chuckle then, taking the stairs two at a time. “I said, you don’t have to buy dinner. Besides, there isn’t a decent meal to be had in Oak Flat.”

“It is a small town, isn’t it?” she commented. “As I drove through, I noticed a diner, a post office, a small grocery store and a church. Not much else.”

“Sounds like you won’t be needing the grand tour. You already took it.”

“Hmm…I was hoping to find a hotel…”

He was vaguely aware of the concern shadowing her expression, but something more urgent called his attention.

What was that scent? An enticing, exotic aroma he couldn’t put a name to. But whatever it was, it had his blood pounding. He swiveled his head, inhaling slowly, deeply, and he realized the perfume was floating on the air around Lacy. The sensuous fragrance made his gut tighten.

The sensation overtaking him was so…odd. He drove agitated fingers through his hair.

“I am hungry,” he admitted, louder than he’d meant, wanting to focus on something—anything—other than her…other than the stirring and utterly unique scent of her. “I’ve got steaks for the grill, if you’d like to stay for dinner.” He eyed her warily. “You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She grinned, and the dimple that formed in her left cheek caused a whirlwind of memories to buffet his mind. He remembered that sexy dimple. How he’d liked to make her smile just so he could see it. He remembered other things, too. The conversations they’d shared, filled with interest and fun. The utterly spontaneous laughter. The serious debates. That kiss…

He shoved the dangerous thoughts from him.

“I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of girl.”

“Good,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of that around here. Let me fire up the coals, and while they’re burning to embers, I’ll grab a quick shower. Then, over dinner, you can tell me what brings you to Oak Flat.”

Before too long he left Lacy Rivers in the kitchen washing the fresh greens that would make the salad she’d insisted on helping with.

In the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and turned on the shower. Full blast.

Memories bombarded his brain. The indecision he’d suffered. The worry. The temptation. The sleepless nights he’d spent praying for resolve. The fear that he wouldn’t have the strength to do the right thing. But in the end he had. He’d succeeded in putting his own frivolous and selfish desires aside.

But Lacy had come back into his life. And as the cool water sluiced down his body, he couldn’t help but conclude that he was once again experiencing the same reaction—or should he say the same uncontrollable attraction—he’d had to this woman all those years ago.

Chapter Two

The steak had been grilled to perfection. The baked potato was light and fluffy, drizzled with the perfect amount of rich butter. The salad was crisp and cool, the homemade balsamic vinaigrette making it utterly…perfect.

And so was Dane Buchanan. Just as perfect as she had recalled him being.

During her drive to Oak Flat, Lacy had worried that her memory of the man might somehow have been glorified by the passing years, that she’d made him larger than life in her mind. But she’d discovered over dinner that he was as honest, intelligent, hardworking and down-to-earth as she remembered. And there simply wasn’t a more perfect physical specimen of a man to be found, she was sure.

His face was leaner, more honed than she remembered. The smile lines bracketing his mouth, fanning out from his eyes, gave him a remarkable appeal even her wildest imaginings had failed to conjure. His thick thatch of coal-black hair was shiny and Lacy found herself wanting to comb her fingers through the hints of silver at his temples. The years had transformed him physically into quite a man. Quite a man, indeed.

But what hadn’t changed one iota were his eyes. She’d been fascinated by his smoky-gray gaze twenty years ago. Enthralled by the curiosity that had danced there, the vigorous light that flashed and caught her up in the energy that had seemed to pulse from him back then.

Those sooty orbs still ignited with uncontainable liveliness as she coerced him to tell her about his day-to-day life breeding and raising Angus cattle. He had a wonderful way of expressing the joy he found in what seemed the most mundane of chores. And she found herself just as swept away by him, just as mesmerized by his joie de vivre now as she had been when they’d attended college together. She listened in wonder as he described the spring calving season and all the sleepless anxiety and miracle of new life that came with it. And summer hay cultivation had kept him busy from sunup to sundown until just recently. He made the mowing, raking and baling sound almost fun, although she imagined it had to be hot, rigorous work.

A couple of times he’d tried to inquire about the reason behind her arrival, but she’d successfully parried his questions. She wasn’t quite ready to blurt out her motivation for coming to see him. Not just yet.

Not only did she feel unprepared, but she also continued to be overwhelmed with desperation. The feeling kept rolling over her in a wavelike fashion. The anxiety welling in her brought a dread she wasn’t used to. She was a successful businesswoman. And she hadn’t gotten that way feeling apprehensive or fearful. She’d landed at the top by identifying terrific opportunities when they presented themselves…and by taking full advantage of those opportunities.

Dane Buchanan was the opportunity of a lifetime, in her estimation. But she couldn’t allow this chance to slip from her grasp by shocking him with her request too soon. She needed to ease into this. Garnering his trust, renewing their friendship, had to come first. She had every intention of doing this right.

The other men she’d approached about fathering a child for her had been people she had known as friends, or through friends or her business. And those associations had helped her to make her plea, given her an opening, a place to start. But the connection she had with Dane was twenty years old. And she didn’t even know how well he remembered their times together. How would the poor man react to having some stranger from his past marching into his home out of the blue, asking him for a sample of his sperm?

If she couldn’t fathom the scenario herself, how in the world would he?

She needed to take her time. Ease into this.

However, the words that would incite his sympathy in her plight as well as obtain his help had better come to her. Fast. Because, her mind warned, you don’t have a whole lot in the way of time. You can only stall the man for so long.

And as proof that the thought was nothing but dead on, he chose that moment to lean toward her, level a direct gaze on her face and ask, “So what was it that made you look me up after all these years, Lacy?”

Renewed panic swelled inside her. Frantically, she did what she could to tamp it down. But she could do nothing to quell the deep maternal yearning that plagued her soul. Her success here was more important to her than any business venture she’d ever strived for, any success she’d ever achieved.

Lacy literally blanched at the thought. She knew how intense, how terribly profound, her longing was to become a mother…to birth, to hold, to care for, to raise, to love a child of her own. She’d described it to her friends as being marrow-deep. But the fear pulsing through her at this moment, the chill the thought of failure brought, made her recognize that filling this hole in her, satisfying her mothering instinct, was more important than anything she’d ever needed or done or accomplished in her whole life. In that instant, she realized she’d never be complete without a child.

She also realized the extreme anguish she faced…if Dane were to refuse her request.

His gray gaze had darkened with concern as he reached across the table, his work-roughened palm warm, almost comforting, as it slid over top her hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve gone quite pale.”

The physical contact made her blink, and she forced her eyes to remain open as she battled the wave upon wave of energy that coursed up her arm—over every inch of her skin—as her body reacted to his touch.

Her lips were cottony dry, and she moistened them. She had no idea how long she’d been silent…or how long she’d been wrapped up in her own desperation.

“I’m all right.” She picked up her glass of water, noticing the slight tremble of her fingers, and took a gulp. “You must think I’m crazy,” she said after setting down the glass. “Coming here unannounced. After so much time.”

“I don’t think that at all.” He relaxed against the back of the kitchen chair. “I will admit to being curious. I mean, it has been a lot of years.”

She paused a moment, her mind going completely blank. How could she ever explain herself to him? He was going to hear what she had in mind, and he’d go screaming and running into the night. When they had sat down at the table to eat, rain had begun to ping against the kitchen windowpane, but Lacy doubted the weather would stop the man from fleeing the situation should he decide to do so.

Dane was sure to react adversely to her idea. All the other men had, hadn’t they?

She wanted to give herself a swift kick. She wouldn’t get anywhere thinking such negative thoughts.

With her eyes glued to the window, she murmured, “You see, I’ve been searching for the perfect man—”

His loud groan cut her words to the quick.

“You’re not a journalist, are you?” he asked, suspicion varnishing his tone until it was sharp and burnished. “Twice over the years, I’ve had reporters hunt me down about that stupid article that was written about me during college. And I don’t mind telling you, both times I’ve refused to be interviewed.”

The subject of their conversation had twisted out of shape so suddenly that Lacy was taken off guard.

“No,” she assured him. “I’m not here to do a story on you.”

He looked visibly relieved. “That whole thing was such a crock. I can’t believe that idiot reporter printed that story back then.” Almost to himself, he said, “That silly article nearly kept Helen from marrying me.”

“Well, I thought it was a wonderful article,” Lacy told him. She couldn’t have stopped the words from tumbling off her tongue even if she’d wanted to. “Very flattering.”

“Too flattering,” he spat out. “The adulation was so overdone that the whole piece bordered on obsequious. It was downright obnoxious with its sugary depiction of me and my life. If I’d have been diabetic, I’d have gone into insulin shock.”

The venom that oozed from his words, his expression, his whole body stance, took her completely by surprise. Although she couldn’t say why, his strong reaction annoyed her.

“But it was all true, wasn’t it?” She blurted out the question, sure that she knew the answer already. “Every fact in that article was correct.”

He refused to relent. “Come on, Lacy. The Perfect Man? No one is perfect. Especially me.” His face screwed up as if he’d bit into something bitter. “The whole mess made me look damn pompous. I was relieved that the magazine hit the stands so late in the school year. I was never so glad to be away from a place as I was that university. That town. I’m not a conceited person, Lacy. And I hated being made to look like one.”

She fingered the linen napkin draped across her lap. “It never dawned on me that you might feel that way about it. In fact, all these years I never imagined that you’d be anything but proud of the title.”

Dane shook his head. “You have no idea how that title nearly ruined all my plans.”

As soon as Lacy heard the statement, she remembered how, when she’d made her final blatant attempt to encourage him to ask her out, he’d stressed to her his intent to carry out a certain plan he had for his life. She’d wondered about it at the time, but he’d kept his statements vague and she never did discover exactly what that plan involved.

“I arrived home after graduation,” he continued, “to find my fiancée waving that magazine at me and insisting that our getting married was a mistake. It took me six months to convince Helen otherwise.” Under his breath he added, “I’ve never been a violent man, but if that reporter had been within reach, I’d have beaten the daylights out of him more than once.”

“You were engaged back then?” Surprise was evident in her tone, and she was terribly relieved that it masked the hurt that welled up in her.

His gray eyes averted from her face as he nodded silently, awkwardness seeming to settle on his broad shoulders.

The news was like a bolt from the blue—a bolt that burned and ripped at the very heart of her. “When you took me out? When we…”

Kissed was the word teetering on her tongue, but it petered out before actually forming. She felt stunned. Wounded.

“No.” His answer was emphatic, his gaze conveying a steeling assurance as he shook his head. “Not when I took you out. But directly after.”

For a moment, he looked as if he had more to say on the subject. But the moment passed, and he remained silent.

She remembered his disappearance after their date, surmised that this had been the time when their paths had veered from one another. What she’d wanted to do was ask, once he’d returned to campus, why he hadn’t told her that he’d been spoken for. That he was in love with another woman. No wonder he hadn’t nibbled any of the bait she’d tossed out at him. He’d been a fish that had already been caught. She felt embarrassed by the way she’d practically thrown herself at him all those years ago.

His words sunk into the chaos of her thoughts. It took me six months to convince Helen….

Why a man like Dane Buchanan would have to convince a woman to marry him was beyond Lacy.

“So we’ve ruled out the profession of writer,” he said, reaching up to lazily scratch a spot on his chin. “What do you do for a living? You were such a go-getter, I knew you’d reach the top of whatever ladder you chose to climb.”

She thanked her lucky stars that he seemed to have forgotten his original question regarding the purpose behind her showing up on his doorstep. Being no fool, she jumped on his question with both feet.

“I own an Internet consulting business,” she told him. “Lacy Webs. We snare customers for you.” She grinned as she recited the familiar words. “Our jingle. And, of course, our logo depicts a tiny spider in a frilly web.”

He nodded, his eyes lighting with sincere interest.

“I worked for a computer firm for a few years. Then, I started building Internet sites for friends on the World Wide Web.” She reached up and toyed with her small diamond stud earring. Finally, she shrugged. “My business just took off. Before I knew it, I had landed my first corporate account. My parttime, ‘for fun’ job turned into an instant career. I create commercial sites. For businesses offering services or selling merchandise online. Bank sites have sort of become my specialty. Although I’ve had my fingers in everything—hospitals, universities, retail chains. You name it.” Her smile brimmed with satisfaction. “I’ve got more clients than I can handle, and I’ve been forced to increase my staff every year for the past five years. It’s been great.”