Millionaire Mavericks: The Oilman’s Baby Bargain

Mitch shook his head. “My father could be a real bastard, but I’m beginning to wonder if I didn’t have it so rough, after all.”

It was the first time he had ever said anything to her about his family. Of course, she had never really asked. “What did he do to you?”

“Suffice it to say, the slug to the jaw I took from Lance was nothing in comparison.”

“Your father hit you?”

“On a regular basis. But it sounds worse than it was. I got over it.”

Why did she get the feeling he really hadn’t?

“So, what are we going to do about dinner?” he asked.

She looked over at the sink, at the remains of the lamb shank. “Don’t look at me. I’m not going anywhere near the stove until I get those lessons.”

“In that case, why don’t we get dressed and go into the village?”

That sounded like the perfect solution to her. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Chapter Seven

What the hell was wrong with him?

Mitch walked with Lexi down the dirt road to Tzia, the local village, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking today when he carried her into his bedroom. So much for treating this marriage like a business deal. But when she’d accused him of finding her repulsive, and he realized she actually meant it, that she wasn’t just manipulating him, the hurt look she wore had done something to his brain. What choice did he have but to show her how wrong she was?

And what was all that crap about cooking lessons? Where the hell had that come from? He didn’t care if she could cook or not. But again she had looked so helpless and dejected. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Which was probably exactly what she wanted. But there was a small part of him that kept wondering, what if it wasn’t an act?

She’d reached for his hand as they left the villa, and what was he supposed to do? Refuse to hold it? Tell her he didn’t think it was appropriate? They were married. He could feel himself getting sucked into…something, although as genuine as her feelings seemed to be, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that she had ulterior motives. They had agreed this was going to be business and nothing more, and he was determined to stick to that. As soon as they got back to Texas. He figured by then they would have gotten this nagging sexual attraction out of the way and would both be sick of each other.

At least he hoped so.

They reached the village just before sundown. As they passed under the arch leading inside, the beauty of the architecture stunned him. They strolled down cobbled streets lined with shops, crowded bars, and outdoor cafés. There was even a gallery whose front window boasted the works of famous Greek artists such as Tsarouhis, Fasianos, and Stathopoulos.

After some browsing, they chose a quiet café at the north end of the village and sat outside under a thick blanket of stars. He ordered an ouzo and though he tried to convince Lexi to try it, she opted for a bottled water, instead. In D.C., she had always had a glass or two of wine with dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” he asked after the server left the table.

“I’m sure.”

“Wine or beer?”

She smiled, a warm breeze blowing the hair back from her face. “Why, are you planning to get me drunk?”

If he’d learned one thing in the past couple of days, it was that he didn’t need the aid of alcohol to have his way with her. They ordered their food, both choosing authentic Greek favorites, but when it came, Lexi just picked at it.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, it’s good. I’m just not very hungry.”

As far as Mitch could tell, she’d barely eaten anything since they left the U.S., and maybe it was his imagination, but she looked thinner than she’d been that night in D.C. He didn’t remember her collarbones being so pronounced and her cheeks so hollow. He knew she was insecure, but would she drive herself to the point of anorexia? Or what if she was sick? Something more dangerous than airsickness and jet lag?

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

His question seemed to surprise her. “No, why?”

“You’ve hardly eaten a thing since we left Texas. Are you sick?”

There was the slightest pause before she smiled and assured him, “I’m fine, really.” But he couldn’t escape the feeling that she wasn’t being completely honest with him. Although, what reason would she have to lie?

By the time they finished eating, most of the shops had locked their doors and the bars looked overcrowded and smoky, so they headed back to the villa with nothing but the full moon to light their way. The air had cooled and it was so silent, Mitch could hear the thump of his own heart.

Once again, she reached for his hand and rather than fight it, he twined his fingers through hers.

She surprised him by asking, “Did your father hit Lance, too?”

His father wasn’t a subject he liked to discuss, but in all fairness, he had been the one to bring it up earlier. “Lance, me, our mother—until she’d had enough, packed her bags and left.”

“Your mother left without you?”

“As Lance likes to say, she had her reasons.”

“My father never hit me, but in a weird way I wish he would have.”

“No, you don’t.”

“At least then I would know that he felt something. After my mom died he just…shut down. I did everything I could to make him happy, everything he ever asked, but I still felt invisible.”

If what she said was true, maybe she didn’t have the spoiled and pampered life after all. Maybe she was just as bitter and confused as everyone else. Or maybe she was one hell of a good actress. Either way, this conversation was getting a little too personal. She needed to understand that when they got back to Texas, things would change.

But what if she didn’t understand that? What if, God forbid, she thought she was falling in love with him? He knew how it was for women like Lexi. They decided on something they wanted and went after it with a vengeance, all pistons firing. Right up until the second they got bored and found a new toy to amuse them.

“We should probably talk about how things will be when we get back to Texas,” he said.

She gazed up at him, her skin luminous in the moonlight. “What things?”

“Us. Our relationship.”

“Okay.”

“I just think I should be clear about a few things. I’m a very busy man, and I like to do things, to live my life, a certain way. You should know that I don’t intend to change.”

She nodded silently, but he had the distinct impression he’d hurt her feelings. If he had, he was sorry for that, but it was important they were both clear on the way things would be.

“As we agreed before, this is a business deal. Nothing more.”

“Of course,” she said, but he could swear there was a slight waver in her voice. An edge of disappointment. Maybe she really believed things had changed. Well, that wasn’t his problem.

Then why did he feel so damned guilty?

She was silent the rest of the walk home. When they walked in the door, he expected that they would go their separate ways, to their own beds, but she stunned him by keeping hold of his hand and leading him to his bedroom. The sex was so passionate and intense, for a while he almost forgot that it wasn’t real. As she lay naked beside him, her body curled around his, the idea of this ending seemed almost inconceivable. But he had never been one to mistake sex for affection or love. When she tired of the arrangement and pulled her inevitable disappearing act, he wouldn’t be sorry to see her go.

Though Mitch’s words stung and she seriously considered giving up, Lexi chose to disregard what he’d said about their marriage and forge ahead with her plan.

They spent the better part of the next six days in bed, or in various other places, having sex. And when they weren’t climbing all over each other, or collapsing with sheer exhaustion, they sunned themselves by the pool or went for walks and explored the shops in the village. Sometimes they just talked about his work, or their families. There was so much about him she didn’t know—and wanted to learn.

As the days passed, she slowly began to realize that not only did she have real feelings for Mitch, she was almost positive she was falling in love with him. But since she had never been in love before, she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. She only knew that it had to be something very special, and she didn’t doubt that he was feeling it, too.

Since that night walking back from the village, he hadn’t said a word about the marriage being just business. Instead, he’d shown his affection for her in a hundred little ways.

She was confident that in a week or so, if all continued to go well, she would be able to tell him about the baby. Then she could finally stop feeling as though she was walking on eggshells, constantly conscious of everything she said and did.

She could finally relax and be happy.

Their last night in Greece, she lay beside Mitch, listening to his deep, heavy breathing as he slept, knowing she should get up and go to her own room, but feeling too lazy to move. She always waited until he was asleep to slip away. As much as she would have loved to spend all night with him, she was still getting sick every morning. Soon though, he would know about the baby, and she could stop hiding. But for now, she really needed to get up.

Five more minutes, she told herself, letting her eyes drift shut and cuddling up against Mitch’s side.

When she opened her eyes again, sunshine was pouring in the windows. Mitch was behind her, his breathing slow and deep as he slept, but one part of his anatomy was already wide awake.

As she was considering the most pleasurable way to wake the rest of him, she felt a familiar lurch in her stomach. She broke out in a sudden cold sweat and a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, she slid out of bed as quietly as possible and pulled on her nightgown. There was no time to make it to her own bedroom. She had no choice but to use Mitch’s bathroom. She reached the commode just as her stomach violently emptied. The spasms were so intense, she was convinced she would look down and find an internal organ or two floating around. When she was finished, her entire body felt limp and shaky. She sat on the floor and rested her face against the cool tile wall.

“Are you all right?”

Lexi’s eyes flew open. Mitch was standing in the doorway, wearing only his boxers, his hair mussed from sleep, concern etched on his face. Damn it! She should have shut and locked the door.

“I’m fine.” She reached over and flushed the commode, but it was obvious that she’d been sick.

“No, you’re not.” He grabbed a washcloth from the towel bar and soaked it with cool water from the tap. He wrung out the excess and handed it to her. She wiped her face with it, feeling the nausea beginning to pass. She would be completely fine in an hour or so.

He reached over to feel her forehead, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t have a fever. I’m okay.”

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Must be something I ate,” she lied, and she could see he wasn’t buying it.

“I know something is wrong. You’ve hardly eaten anything all week, you’ve lost weight, and every morning you look pale and exhausted. I want the truth.”

He knew. She could see it on his face that he’d already figured it out for himself. Or at least suspected. She had the feeling that her saying the words was a formality at this point.

Maybe this was a good thing. The longer she put it off, the harder it was going to be, right? The more it would sound like a lie. And he didn’t look upset, exactly. More concerned than angry, so maybe it would be okay.

She took a deep breath, blew it out, and finally said the words she had been holding on the tip of her tongue for more than a week. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

She could not have prepared herself for the look of dumbfounded shock on his face. Whatever he might have thought was wrong with her, pregnancy had clearly never crossed his mind. And if his reaction was any indication, everything would not be okay.

“You didn’t think to mention this before?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, but she could see that he was ready to explode. And could she blame him? He’d said it himself, he didn’t want to bring a child into this. Had she really thought a week of fantastic sex was going to make him change his mind? Make him fall madly in love with her?

She felt as if she might be sick again.

“I only found out for sure a few days before we left,” she said, knowing it was a pathetic excuse. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

“That’s what this has all been about, hasn’t it?”

“All what?”

“The cooking and the cleaning. The sex. Did you think you could manipulate me?”

Her heart sank. What was she going to tell him? No? Lie to him again? She had done that, just not in the way he thought. Not so sneaky and underhanded. “It wasn’t like that, I swear. I wanted you to see that I could be a good wife.”

He looked so disgusted with her, so…violated. “I didn’t marry you so I could have a wife. I only did it for your father’s support.”

And that was her life in a nutshell. She was only as useful as her political connections. No words could have cut deeper or stung more.

“Does Lance know?” he asked.

Lance? Why would he think that she would go running to his brother? “No, of course not.”

“And he never can,” Mitch said.

His words took her aback. What the hell was that supposed to mean? How could he not find out, eventually? Did Mitch expect her to give the baby up, or even worse, terminate? Was he that cold and heartless, or so arrogant that he believed the choice was his alone?

What did his brother have to do with this, anyway? This was between her and Mitch. “Who cares if Lance does find out? What’s he going to do about it?”

The veins at his temple pulsed. “You can’t mess with people’s emotions that way, Lexi. He and Kate are happy. Something like this could tear their marriage apart. I refuse to let that happen.”

How could she and Mitch having a child ruin Lance’s marriage? This didn’t make any sense. “What are you asking me to do, Mitch?”

“We’ll raise the baby as mine,” he said.

Then it dawned on her. Their odd and confusing conversation suddenly made sense. He thought it was Lance’s child. Lance, who she had barely kissed, much less slept with. It had never even occurred to Mitch that the baby was his.

Did he honestly believe that she would jump from Mitch’s bed right into his brother’s? Did he really have such a low opinion of her?

Obviously, he did. This past week, all the time they had shared, it meant nothing to him. He was using her for a good time, because he apparently believed that was all she was good for.

Her stomach lurched and she had to fight to keep from vomiting again. How had she gotten into this mess? Married to a man who considered her a garden-variety slut, one who jumped from one brother to the next as casually as she changed shoes. Even if she did try to tell him the truth, she doubted he would listen, or believe her. Or care.

She had been hoping they might have a real marriage. Not just hoping, but longing for it. She desperately wanted someone to really see her. To love her. But it was clear that Mitch would never be that man. He could never respect or love her, and all the pretending, all the seducing in the world would never change that. It would never alter the preconceived notion he had of her.

First rejected by her father, then by her husband. As long as she lived, she would never trust any man ever again.

Using the wall for support, she pulled herself to her feet. She swayed unsteadily for a second, then straightened her spine and faced Mitch. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, brushing past him, but he grabbed her by her upper arm to stop her.

“From now on, I would appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself.”

She lifted her chin and met his eyes, so he wouldn’t see how humiliated and cheap he’d just made her feel. “The truth is, you were hardly worth the effort. Looks like I married the wrong brother.”

She could see that her arrow had hit its mark, but for some reason it only made her feel worse.

She yanked her arm free and stalked from the room. She was stuck with a man who was arrogant, coldhearted and just plain mean.

On the bright side, she could spend the rest of her life making him as miserable as she was.

Mitch watched Lexi strut from the room, feeling more betrayed and disillusioned than he ever had in his life. He’d honestly believed that they had connected, that the dynamics of their relationship had shifted. He’d let himself consider that their marriage might be more than a business deal. But it had all been an act. She had used him.

How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let his guard down when all along he knew the kind of woman that she was? Because he had been thinking with something other than his brain, that’s how.

Alexis Cavanaugh was a spoiled, heartless viper and that would never change.

At least now he knew why she had so readily agreed to marry him, and he was thankful that she had. Lance and Kate were happy and he refused to let Lexi’s selfishness—her lack of concern for anyone but herself—ruin that. For all he knew, she might have conceived on purpose. Maybe she felt she needed a bargaining chip, a way to guarantee her marriage to Lance, but he had broken the engagement and married Kate. Mitch could only imagine what Lexi’s next move would have been had he not offered to marry her, instead. Blackmail, maybe? Extortion?

He wondered what the senator would think if he knew what his daughter had been up to. Of course, for all he knew, she learned this sort of behavior from him. But Mitch couldn’t let himself forget the old man’s threat. If you hurt my daughter, I’ll ruin you. He didn’t have a choice but to make this work. For the company’s sake.

She was his wife, God help him, and he was going to raise his brother’s child the way he would his own, with the best of everything. He had never imagined being a father, especially at his age, but he didn’t seem to have much choice. He had no reservations about running a multimillion-dollar company, but the responsibility of shaping a child’s life terrified him. Probably because his own father had done such a bang-up job with him and Lance.

When Lexi grew bored and left them, which he had little doubt she would eventually do, he would reject everything he had learned from his own father and be the best single parent possible. He owed the kid that much. Someday, when the time was right, he would tell Lance and the child the truth, but until then, no one but he and Lexi would know.

That wasn’t even the worst part. To keep up the ruse, so Lance didn’t suspect the truth, Mitch and Lexi had no choice but to make their marriage look like a real one.

Chapter Eight

The trip home was the longest and most miserable in Lexi’s life. It was raining as they boarded the ferry to the mainland and the ride was a choppy one, launching her already questionable stomach into turmoil. The first leg of their flight was delayed due to weather and they missed their connecting flight. They were stuck in the London airport for six hours waiting for the next available departure, and when they finally took off for Texas, the flight was so turbulent she spent most of it in the bathroom in a scene straight out of The Exorcist.

The entire time, Mitch didn’t say a single word to her.

When they reached Houston, she was so relieved she felt like dropping to her knees and kissing the ground. She just wanted to go home and crawl into her own bed. But as they were climbing into the limo, Mitch reminded her that all of her things had been moved into his townhouse and that was her home now. On the bright side, he didn’t seem any happier about it than she was. Her misery wasn’t as hard to swallow when she knew he was right there with her.

Located on a golf course in what was by far the most affluent neighborhood in Maverick County, Mitch’s townhouse was anything but small. The front door opened into a foyer and spacious living area. It smelled of furniture polish and faintly of Mitch’s aftershave. The decor, to her surprise, was very homey and welcoming. Not what she would expect from a house occupied exclusively by a man.

There was a formal dining room and enormous kitchen with every modern device known to man. On the countertop sat a huge bouquet of flowers, two champagne glasses and a bottle of sparkling fruit juice chilling on ice. Beside it was a note penned in Tara’s handwriting that read, Congratulations and welcome home!

At Mitch’s questioning look, she said, “It’s from Tara, my assistant.”

He gestured to the nonalcoholic drink. “I guess it’s safe to say she knows you’re pregnant.”

“She’s my best friend. I tell her everything.” Well, almost everything.

“That’s sad,” he said.

“What? That I tell her everything?”

“No, that you have to pay someone to be your best friend.”

How did he always manage to hit the rawest nerve? But she refused to let him know that he’d hurt her feelings. She lifted her nose at him and said, “That’s a little hypocritical coming from a man who had to buy his wife.”

She braced herself for a sarcastic comeback, but instead, the hint of a smile tipped up the corner of his mouth, catching her off guard.

“Your room is on the second floor,” he said. He backtracked through the house to where he left her bag by the stairs. He grabbed it and started up, and she followed him.

“Dry cleaning is picked up and dropped off Mondays and Thursdays. It will be your responsibility to see that it’s left on the porch.”

“Fine.”

“I have a cleaning service in Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

“What about a cook?”

“I’m not home enough to warrant it. I usually eat out or order in. But if you want to hire someone, I won’t object. And of course when we move, we’ll need a full-time staff.” He led her to the first room on the left. As far as she could see, there were three other bedrooms.

It was a typical spare bedroom, with genderneutral furnishings and decor, but Tara had placed several of her things from her bedroom at her father’s estate around the room. Photos and keepsakes mostly, as well as her books.

She peered into the walk-in closet and saw that Tara had also arranged all of her clothes and shoes, and in the bathroom she found her makeup and toiletries.

Mitch stood in the doorway watching her. “Is it satisfactory?”

It was more than adequate, but she said, “I suppose, if this is the best you can do.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, the master suite is larger, but then, you would have to share it with me.”

Like that would ever happen. “Where is your room?”

“Why? Are you planning another midnight visit?”

“Actually, I need to know so I can avoid it.”

He flashed another wry grin. “End of the hall on the right. The third floor is the den and my office. I would appreciate it if you didn’t go up there.”

Which meant that would be the first place she investigated.

“Just up the road is the community center. There’s an exercise room and tennis courts. There’s also a pool, although I’ll warn you that bathing suits are not optional. Unless you want to get yourself arrested.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll only walk around naked inside the house.”

He didn’t look as though he believed her, which would make actually doing it all the more fun.

“I’ll need a space for Tara to work.”

“She can have the room across the hall. I’ll call my real estate agent so we can start house hunting.”