Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan

Jessie was stunned. This was Ryan, for heaven’s sake! Her friend.

But the feelings coursing through her weren’t those of friendship. She felt as though an invisible cord inexorably tugged her toward him. She could almost feel his strong arms around her again. Her body ached to feel him pressed against her, and her lips practically tingled beneath his intent gaze.

Good Lord. How had she not noticed how incredibly sexy he was for all these years? Or had she? Had she simply refused to acknowledge the deep pull of attraction between them? After all, he’d been married.

“Ryan?” Her voice sounded like a stranger’s.

He took a step toward her, and she instinctively put out a hand to hold him off. But he took it and tugged her toward him. “Don’t you think we should explore what we could have between us?” Pulling her into his arms, he folded her firmly against him. Her hands splayed wide over his biceps. She intended to push him away, but her limbs felt weak and shaky, and when he didn’t release her, she simply stood in his embrace, feeling the erotic electricity that flowed from him to her. She was shockingly aware of his hard body against hers, of the checked power in his close hold.

Jessie’s teeth were practically chattering with nerves. “I…I don’t know. I never thought about you—about me and you—as anything more than friends.” She felt tears fill her eyes yet again. “You’re the best friend I have in the whole world, and I don’t want to screw things up and lose you. I need you to be my friend, Ry.”

Silence fell. Ryan didn’t move. He didn’t release her, nor did he tighten his arms. She kept her head down, knowing that if she raised her face to his right now this whole discussion would be moot, and their relationship would change forever. And despite the words of caution she’d just uttered, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like with Ryan. Would he be slow and gentle or as hot and wild as the sensations ripping through her right now? She saw again in her mind the light in his eyes and heard his deep, rough voice: Passion I can promise you.

His hands were on her back, and as he shifted them slightly, rubbing gentle patterns over her sensitive flesh, she shuddered. Had she ever wanted to cast rational thought to the winds so badly? Her body warred with her mind for another long moment. But finally she heaved a deep sigh and pushed back from his embrace. This time he let her go.

“No,” she said, trying to invest her tone with a firmness she didn’t feel. “This wouldn’t be right.” She turned away, hugging her arms tightly about herself. “I’m sorry.” She knew the words were inadequate, but her throat felt as if someone were squeezing it with a vise.

Behind her she heard his footsteps as he went to the closet and took out his coat. Fabric rustled as he donned his outerwear, then he walked to her, stepping into her line of vision and lifting her chin with one finger. Jessie had been standing with her eyes closed, but she forced herself to open them and gaze into his blue ones.

And the moment she did, she knew that nothing would be as it had been before. Awareness leaped and crackled between them like well-fed flames.

“All right,” he said. “Friends it is. But the offer of marriage still stands. Think about it.”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice.

He dropped his hand from her face, stepped away. “Good night.”

Jessie didn’t sleep well that night. Or any night for the rest of the week. On Saturday she threw away the preliminary profiles of the donors. Although she didn’t believe the process carried the risks that Ryan thought it did, it seemed impersonal and distasteful to her now.

On Sunday she walked through the Public Gardens. A young couple passed her, their faces alive with laughter as their toddler, awkward and stiff in layers of bulky winter clothing, ran in circles until she was dizzy. As the father scooped the pink-cheeked child into his arms, the baby squealed with laughter, and Jessie felt her heart contract with pain.

Why shouldn’t she have that joy? Just because she hadn’t been lucky enough to find someone with whom she could share her life—

Ah, but you had someone, her inner self reminded her. And you gave him away.

Chip. She’d been courted by a star member of the football team during her first year of high school. At the time, she hadn’t given the guy behind the persona a serious thought. He’d been popular; every girl in the school had envied her. At fifteen, that was what it all had been about. In her naïveté, she’d never really thought about the fact that they had next to nothing in common. To her he’d represented safety. Security. Someone who loved her unconditionally, darn near worshipped her, for heaven’s sake. In her whole life there had never been anyone like that. Ryan had been her lifeline during her childhood, but he’d distanced himself when she began dating Chip, and she’d rarely seen him after he’d left for college. Looking back, she almost felt as if he’d abandoned her. Was it any wonder she had followed Chip south to school?

It wasn’t until she’d gotten to college that she’d begun to grow and change, to realize that the world was a big place and her choices were limitless. And as she had, she’d realized that she could never make a life with Chip.

She’d been fond of him, but she hadn’t loved him. To marry him would have been unfair to them both. She’d used him as a crutch for a very long time, and she prayed that he’d found some sweet girl and was married, that they were happily raising half a dozen little football players and cheerleaders.

And that thought brought her back to her present problem. She could have married and had children with Chip. But…something had stopped her. She hadn’t known at the time exactly why he wasn’t right. She’d just known he wasn’t.

And after she’d settled down in Boston and gotten her shop established, she hadn’t found the right man, either.

Will you marry me?

Ryan’s words echoed over and over again in her head. Was it possible she’d been tempted to blurt out, “Yes!” for one ridiculous, impetuous instant?

Familiarity, she decided. Ryan had known her forever. He knew all her warts and quirks. They had a number of interests in common. Living with Ryan would be comfortable in many ways.

But as she remembered the breathless, shocking awareness that had swamped her when he’d taken her in his arms, the word comfortable wasn’t the one that seemed to apply.

That line of thought was dangerous. Her mind shied away from any examination of exactly what had happened last night. Instead she focused on his refusal to help her in her quest for motherhood. She should have realized, would have, if she’d thought about it longer, that Ryan Shaughnessy would have difficulty with the concept of a biological child to which he had no rights or attachment.

Ryan’s family had been a close and loving one. She should know. Hadn’t she sought refuge in Mrs. Shaughnessy’s plump arms more than once? Mr. Shaughnessy had been warm and boisterous, including her in the games of pitch-and-catch with Ryan and his older brother, tossing her high in the air just to hear her scream. And on the occasions when she’d eaten at the Shaughnessy house, the teasing camaraderie and open love in their home had never failed to amaze her.

Her family had been very different. Her mother, as far as Jessie could tell, felt that raising a child was little more than a duty. Her grandparents regarded her as a trial, a punishment sent by God for some unfathomable crime. They had failed as parents when their only daughter had gotten herself pregnant and, even worse, refused to marry—or even name—the father of her baby.

Unless they’d been a lot different during her mother’s childhood, Jessie thought it likely that her mother had succumbed to the first man ever to say a kind word to her. A mistake Jessie herself very nearly had made with Chip, although he’d been quite different from the man who’d apparently seduced and waltzed away from her mother.

No, thank goodness she’d gotten smart. She wasn’t ever going to believe that a man was her ticket to fulfillment. She knew better.

And where did that leave her? Alone, childless, aching for her life to mean something to somebody. Which was why, if she was honest with herself, she felt so strongly about having a child of her own.

She thought again of her fears, weighed them against the certainty of years passing her by. Could she marry Ryan? Perhaps he was right about their friendship being a good basis for the marriage. But…what if she didn’t conceive? What would happen then? She had friends who had infertility problems, and the uncertainties put a strain on even the most devoted couple. What would happen to a couple like Ryan and her if something like that happened?

And then it struck her. What if they compromised? What if she agreed to marry Ryan if, and only if, he gave her a baby? She hadn’t thought that her baby needed a father. After all, she’d survived without one. What her baby needed was love, and that she knew she could give it. But she also knew Ryan. He’d said marriage, and she knew he’d never go for anything less.

And the thought of giving her child a warm, loving, complete family was very seductive. Maybe they could even have more than one child. Then it struck her—additional children would be conceived far more conventionally if this all came to pass. She’d be tacitly agreeing to a lasting sexual arrangement with Ryan. And in good conscience, she couldn’t pretend that would be a problem.

The real problem might be keeping her hands off him.

She shivered suddenly, though she was walking down Marlborough Street now at a brisk pace. Her mind racing, she considered the idea from all angles. As she reached the steps of her building, she nodded once, sharply, then went inside and headed straight for the phone.

When Ryan’s deep voice said, “Hello?” though, for a moment her throat seized up, and she couldn’t speak.

“Jessie? Is that you?” His voice was sharp enough to startle her into speech again.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Caller I.D.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Jess? Did you call me for a reason or did you just want to breathe heavily into the phone?”

“I want to talk to you again. About this baby stuff.”

On the other end of the phone, he sighed. “I don’t believe there’s any point in talking it to death.”

“I had an idea,” she said. “Could you meet me for dinner?”

“Three meals in two days. All my adoring fans are going to start to worry.”

“Maybe they should.”

“Jess—”

“Come on, Ryan. Live dangerously. The East Coast Grill? Seven o’clock?”

“Wow. All the way over in Cambridge? I didn’t know you strayed that far from home.”

“Very funny. Will you do it?”

“All right,” he said. “But only because I know you’ll bug me to death until I listen to you. I’m telling you right up front that there is no way I am going to change my mind.”

“I understand,” she said. “All I ask is that you listen.”

When she arrived in a taxi at 7:05 he already was waiting. To her eternal amusement he was seated at the bar with a woman on each side of him apparently vying for his attention.

Jessie walked up behind them and put her hands over his eyes. “Guess who?”

“Hey, there.” He swiveled around on his stool to face her. “You’re early.”

The women who’d been speaking to him were eyeing her with something less than friendliness. An imp of mischief seized her, and she placed her hands on either side of Ryan’s face, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Miss me?”

“Always.” She hadn’t counted on his quick reflexes. His hands came up before she could draw away. One shackled her wrist, the other cradled the back of her head as he returned a second, much more leisurely kiss. His lips were warm and firm, molding her own as her heart thudded, and she nearly sank into the promise inherent in the lingering caress before she remembered who she was kissing and why. When he let her go, she drew back, flustered.

He rose and settled a hand at her waist, turning to smile at the women as Jessie blinked and forced herself to focus. “It was nice meeting you.”

As he seated her and moved around the small table, she sent him an easy grin, determined not to let him see she’d been shaken by that kiss. “Was I helpful?”

“Infinitely.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket. “I was being accosted.”

“Well,” she said, “it’s not every day a girl gets to meet an eminently available hunk.”

“If I hear that phrase out of you one more time,” he said, leaning forward with mock menace, “your derriere is going to meet my eminently available hand.”

She smiled brilliantly. “Ooooh, sounds like fun. Promise?”

His eyes narrowed, and that quickly the playful moment metamorphosed into something entirely different, something dark and dangerous with undercurrents of an intensity that caught her breath in her throat.

“Okay. You folks want to order drinks?” The arrival of the server broke through the stillness between them.

She sat quietly as Ryan ordered their drinks. What was happening to her? And to the comfortable, familiar relationship she’d had with Ryan?

“So,” he said when the waitress had returned with their drinks and taken their dinner orders, “what new wrinkle in your mind was so urgent that you had to see me again tonight?”

“I was thinking about what you said.” She spoke slowly, cautiously.

“I’ve said a lot of things to you,” he said, unhelpful. “Want to be a tad more specific?”

“About marriage.” The words fell between them, their ripples widening, breaking up the smooth surface of the conversation.

His eyes grew more intense, bluer; she felt like a mouse caught in the cat’s corner. “What about it?”

“Well, I was thinking.” She stopped, swallowed. “If you were to donate—and I did get pregnant—we could maybe get married once the baby was born. I mean, it would be stupid of us to marry assuming we were going to be parents. A lot of things can happen during pregnancy and I wouldn’t want to trap you into anything if it didn’t—”

“Stop.” He held up a hand, palm out. “You’re babbling.”

“Sorry. I’m nervous.” She fell silent, biting her lip. “I just thought—”

His eyebrows rose. “You’ve been doing quite a lot of thinking lately.” He picked up his wineglass and gently swirled the Merlot they were drinking, tilting the glass and absently studying the color of the wine. “Let me see if I understand what you’re proposing. I donate sperm. You, hopefully, get pregnant. If the pregnancy goes to term and we have a child, we marry.”

She nodded, too embarrassed to look him in the eye but relieved that he’d grasped the idea. “Exactly.”

“No.” He sat back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other.

“No?” Startled, she leaned forward and glared at him. “Why not? I thought you would be happy. This way we both get what we want.”

“It makes me uncomfortable,” he said. “Where’s the guarantee that you’ll keep your end of the bargain once you get what you want?”

She was stung by the implication that he didn’t trust her. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Have I ever given you reason to distrust my word?”

He shrugged. “No. But this is a life-changing discussion we’re having here, not a promise to water my plants while I’m out of town.”

She had to admit he had a point. But she was still annoyed. “So call a lawyer if I’m so sneaky. I’ll sign a contract.”

Ryan was silent. His eyes regarded her intently until she was the first to look away. Finally he sighed. “Okay, here’s another compromise. You get pregnant. If everything goes all right for the first couple of months…”

“The first trimester,” she said, showing off her knowledge.

“Right. If everything goes well through the first trimester, we marry then. I don’t want my child born out of wedlock.”

She sighed. “You are an amazingly old-fashioned fuddy-duddy.”

His broad shoulders rose and fell again. “An eminently available fuddy-duddy, though. There are lots of women who would leap at the chance to marry me and have my babies.”

It would have been the perfect opportunity to say, Fine. Let one of them have you. But her tongue wouldn’t wrap itself around the words. Something inside her recoiled from the idea of another woman bearing his children. And hadn’t she decided he’d be a perfect biological father for her own? A perfect father in many ways? A perfect husband— She cut off that thought before it took root.

“It’s not just being old-fashioned,” he said suddenly. “I’m helping you out. You can return the favor. If I’m married, there won’t be any more of those annoying articles.”

He had a point. And the reminder that this would be something of an exchange of favors made her feel better. It was nice that she wasn’t the only one getting something out of the arrangement. “All right.” She spoke slowly, cautiously. “I guess we could get married if the early part of the pregnancy goes well.”

He nodded once. “It’s a deal, then.”

The waiter returned with their dinners. Ryan had the barbecue that had been one of the Grill’s outstanding specialties for years. She’d ordered the Grilled Sausage from Hell. Though it was wonderful, she could only manage to eat about half of it, so Ryan polished off the rest as well as his own meal.

“So what happens next?” he asked as their plates were removed.

“I’m monitoring my cycle. I’ll use an ovulation kit to determine when we go. I’m pretty regular so it’ll probably be the middle of next week.”

“Stop.” He held up a hand. “I know the rest. We talked about artificial insemination when Wendy and I were going through this, but ultimately we learned her fallopian tubes were blocked.”

She nodded. The same sense of shock and hurt that she’d felt when he’d first told her about Wendy’s and his infertility treatments rolled through her again. “I cannot believe you never told me about that.”

He looked away. “Like I said, it was a very personal thing.”

And none of her business. She read between the lines. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be nosy.” She hesitated. “I guess it bothers me a little that there are these big parts of your life about which I know nothing. We shared just about everything growing up, didn’t we?”

“Not by a long shot.” His answer was quick and sharp. “After you started dating Mr. Football Star, there was a whole lot we didn’t share.”

She was stunned by the vehemence in his tone. The Ryan she recalled from high school had been absorbed in academics and weight lifting. He’d rarely sought her out and often had little to say when she’d made time for him. Was it possible she’d hurt him somehow? Offended him without realizing it? She wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to open such a can of worms. “Maybe we should just agree to start from this moment,” she said carefully. “If this works out, we could be sharing a family in less than a year.”

He nodded without looking at her. But after a moment he reached across the table and took her hand. “Good idea,” he said quietly. His palm engulfed hers and his thumb rubbed across the back of her knuckles gently, creating a warmth that sizzled up her arm into her bloodstream. A heavy pool of heat settled low in her abdomen and she shifted slightly in her seat. “I have a good feeling about this,” he told her. “We’re going to be good together…in lots of ways.”

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