The Tycoon's Charm: The Tycoon's Paternity Agenda / Honor-Bound Groom

“You, sit,” she ordered.

“I am sitting.”

“Now, niño pequeño,” she said sternly. “Little Boy.” A holdover nickname from when he was small, Katy was guessing.

“Why can’t I eat here?” He sounded like a little boy arguing with his mother.

“Because I said so, that’s why. Now move, before your supper gets cold.”

“You’re seriously not going to let me eat here? In a chair, I might add, that I own?”

“And you honestly think I’m going to let you eat spaghetti on Persian silk? Becca would roll over in her grave.”

He seemed to get that it was a losing battle, because he shoved himself up from the chair and mumbled, “The way you boss me around, a person would think this was your house.”

He rounded the bed, kicked off his shoes and climbed on, sitting cross-legged next to Katy. “Happy now?”

“Good boy,” Celia said, setting his tray in front of him, stopping just shy of patting his head. He looked more than a little annoyed, which Katy was guessing was the whole point. He may have owned the house, but Celia was clearly in charge.

It was one of the sweetest, most heartwarming things she had ever seen. The big powerful billionaire was really just a pussycat.

“Can I get you anything else?” Celia asked.

“A double scotch if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Adam said.

She smiled and said, “Of course. Katy?”

“Under the circumstances, I should probably lay off the booze. But thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t mean…” She sighed and shook her head, as if they were both hopeless. “Heaven help us, you’re just as bad as he is.”

She walked out mumbling to herself.

“Niño pequeño?” Katy asked, unable to stifle a smile.

“I swear sometimes she thinks I’m still ten years old,” he grumbled, but there was affection in his eyes. He loved Celia, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“I think everyone needs someone to boss them around every once in a while,” she said. “It keeps you grounded.”

“Well, then, I should be pretty well-grounded, because she bosses me around on a daily basis.”

And she could tell that though he wanted Katy to believe otherwise, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Celia returned several minutes later with his drink, then left them to eat. Katy just assumed that when they were finished, Adam would sit in the chair again. Instead he fluffed the pillows and leaned back against them. It was probably the most laid-back she had ever seen him. In fact, she’d never imagined he could be so relaxed.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with the scotch. Maybe the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions. She recalled Becca telling her once, a long time ago, that if she wanted something, all she had to do was give him a drink or two and he was about as staunch as a wet noodle. And while Katy didn’t necessarily believe it was ethical to take advantage of an intoxicated person, if it made him open up to her a little…well, what was the harm?

When Celia came back for their dishes, Katy asked her for a glass of orange juice. “And I think Adam could use another drink.”

He looked at his watch, then shrugged and said, “Why not?”

Around nine, after he’d drained his second glass and was clearly feeling no pain—he’d even laughed during one of the shows—she used the bathroom and changed into her pajamas, then climbed back into bed. The program they’d been watching had just ended, so she switched off the television, rolled on her side to face him and asked, “Adam, can we talk?”

He looked down at her and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing,” she assured him. “It just only seems right that I should get to know the father of the baby I’ll be carrying. Don’t you think?”

His brow dipped low. “Oh, you mean you want to talk.”

“What have you got against talking? It’s how people get to know each other.”

He looked uncomfortable. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“You know, my life isn’t really all that interesting.”

“I doubt that.” She gave him a playful poke. “Come on, tell me something about you. Just one thing.”

“Let me think. Oh, I know. I don’t like talking about myself.”

She laughed. “Adam!”

“What?” he said with a grin. “You said one thing.”

“Something I don’t already know. Tell me about…your father.”

He shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“Were you close?”

“There were times, when my mom was still alive, that he would occasionally notice me. But then she died, and he checked out.”

That was the saddest thing she’d ever heard. If they were all the other had, they should have stuck together. They could have leaned on each other. The way she and her parents supported each other when Becca died. She supposed that sort of tragedy could either pull a family together, or rip them apart.

“You must have been very lonely.”

He shrugged again. “Celia was there for me.”

He said it so casually, but she had the feeling that losing his mother had scarred him deeper than he would ever admit. How could it not?

“How did your mother die?”

“Cancer.”

Which must have made learning about Becca’s cancer all the more devastating. And scary. “How old were you?”

“Young enough to believe it was my fault.”

She sucked in a quiet breath. That was probably the most honest thing he had ever said to her. Her heart ached for him. For the frightened little boy he must have been.

He looked over at her. “Everyone has bad things happen to them, Katy. You get through it, you move on.”

Was he forgetting that she had lost someone dear to her, too?

“Have you?” she asked. “Moved on, I mean.” She knew the instant the words were out, as the shutters on his emotions snapped closed again, that she had pushed too far. So much for getting to know one another.

He looked at his watch and frowned. “It’s getting late.”

He got up and grabbed his shoes from the floor.

“You don’t have to go,” she said. “We can talk about something else.”

His expression said he’d had just about all the conversation he could stand for one night. Maybe a dozen nights. Maybe he was only in here to keep tabs on her. To be sure that she followed the doctor’s instructions. “You need your rest and I have an early meeting tomorrow. I probably won’t see you in the morning, but Celia will get you whatever you need.”

Like the turtles she and Willy used to catch in the grass by the riverbank when she was a kid, he’d sensed danger and retreated back into his shell. God forbid he let himself open up to her, let himself feel something. Would it really be so terrible?

He hesitated in the doorway, like he might change his mind, but instead he said, “Have a safe trip back to Peckins,” then he was gone.

Adam had actually started acting like a human being today, which she couldn’t deny intrigued her. And now that she’d had a preview of the man hiding behind the icy exterior, she wanted to dig deeper. She wanted to know who he was.

But when had this ever been about getting to know Adam better? And why would she bother? When it was over, and the baby was born, they would just go back to being strangers. Seeing each other occasionally when he brought the baby around.

She laid a hand gently across her belly, wondering what was going on inside, if the procedure had worked and the embryo was attaching to her womb. Her tiny little niece or nephew, she thought with a smile. Even knowing that there was only an average 10 percent success rate, she had a good feeling about their chances.

She switched off the light and lay in the dark, thinking about everything that had happened since she left Peckins that morning. The ease of the procedure, and the way Adam had stayed with her all day. She thought that they had shared something special, that they were becoming friends, but it was clear he didn’t want that. And for some stupid reason the idea made her inexplicably sad.

* * *

It had only been seven days since the procedure, and would be three more days before she would even know if she was pregnant, and Katy had already determined that she agreed to have a child with the most demanding and obstinate man on the face of the earth.

Adam had called her about a million times.

Okay, so it was more like fifteen or twenty, but it sure felt like a million. She had only been back to Peckins an hour when he phoned to check on her, which, in light of his cool attitude the night before, she found sort of touching. He reminded her that the doctor said to take it easy for several days, meaning no heavy lifting or strenuous activity. Which she, of course, already knew. She assured him she was following the postprocedure instructions to the letter, and he had nothing to worry about.

Thinking that she’d made herself pretty clear, she was surprised when later that evening he’d called again.

Was she eating right? Drinking enough water? Staying off her feet?

She patiently assured him that she was still following the doctor’s orders, and when they hung up shortly after, assumed that would be the last she heard from him in a while. But he called again the next morning.

Had she gotten a full eight hours sleep? She wasn’t drinking coffee, was she? And since country breakfasts were often laden with saturated fats, she should consider fruit and an egg-white omelet as a substitute.

She assured him again, maybe not quite so patiently this time, that she knew what to do. And she was only a little surprised when he called later in the day to say he’d been doing research on the internet and needed her email address so he could send her links to several sites he thought contained necessary information about prenatal health. And had she ever considered becoming a vegetarian?

If he was this fanatical before there was even a confirmed pregnancy, what was he going to be like when she was actually pregnant? Two to three calls a day, every day, for nine months?

She would be giving birth from a padded room in the psychiatric ward.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the phone calls were even slightly conversational in tone. As in, “Hi, how are you? What have you been up to?” Instead he more or less barked orders, without even the most basic of pleasantries.

On day seven, he called to say that he’d been giving their situation considerable thought, and he’d come to the conclusion that he would feel more comfortable if she came to stay with him in El Paso for the duration of her pregnancy. So he could “keep a close eye on her.”

It was the final straw.

“I will not, under any circumstances, drop everything and move two hours from home. The ranch is my life. My parents need me here. And all the phone calls and emails…it has to stop. You’re smothering me and we don’t even know that I’m pregnant yet.”

“But you could be, so doesn’t it make sense to start taking care of yourself now? This is my child we’re talking about.”

“It’s also my life.”

“If you were here with me I wouldn’t have to call. And you wouldn’t have to do anything. Celia would take care of you.”

She liked Celia, but honestly, it sounded like hell on earth. She wasn’t an idle person. Most days she was up before dawn and didn’t stop moving until bedtime. “I love working, Adam.”

“But obviously you’ll have to quit.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’ll be pregnant.”

Oh, he did not just say that. “What century are you living in? Pregnant women work all the time.”

“At a desk job maybe, or as a clerk in a store. I seriously doubt there are pregnant women out there roping cattle on horseback and mucking stables.”

“Is that what you think I do?”

“It’s not?”

“Not just that. And, of course, I wouldn’t do those things when I’m pregnant. Do you really think I would be that irresponsible? And for your information, I spend a lot of time behind a desk.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you’re irresponsible. And I guess I just assumed your responsibilities were more physical in nature.”

“So you assumed I got a business degree just for the fun of it?” she snapped. “Next you’ll be telling me that I’m wasting my education staying on the ranch.” As if she hadn’t heard that enough from Becca over the years.

“I’m just worried about the health of my child.”

“We obviously need to get a few things straight here. One, I am not moving to El Paso. There is no reason why I can’t have a perfectly healthy pregnancy in Peckins. And two, I am definitely not quitting work. My parents depend on me, not to mention that I love what I do. I understand that you’re worried about the baby’s health, but you’re just going to have to trust me. And lastly, if you insist on calling to check up on me, could you have the decency to not treat me like a…a baby factory. Maybe we could even have a conversation. You do know what that is, right?”

“Yes,” he said curtly. He obviously didn’t like what he was hearing, but when she signed the contract to be his surrogate, nowhere did it say she had to comply to his every demand.

Move in with him? Was he nuts?

“Even though Becca is gone, we’re still family. Would it really be so terrible if we were friends?”

“I never said I didn’t want to be your friend.”

“You didn’t have to. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, actions speak louder than words. And maybe you haven’t considered this, but if you get to know me a little better, it will be easier for you to trust me.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said grudgingly.

At least it was start. But she had the sinking feeling that it was going to a really long nine months.

Eight

Since their phone conversation three days ago, Adam had cut off all contact with Katy, and it had been surprisingly difficult. Since the procedure he’d been thinking about her almost twenty-four/seven. The more he read up on pregnancy, the deeper home it hit just how many things could go wrong with not just the baby, but Katy, as well.

He had accepted responsibility for Becca’s death, and learned to live with the guilt, but the idea that her sister’s life was now in his hands had him on constant edge. It was his responsibility to make sure she was healthy.

It was something he should have considered before he put this baby plan into motion. But it was too late now. Katy was due to arrive any minute so they could go for her blood test. In a few hours they would know if the procedure worked.

He was both excited and dreading it. Hopeful but conflicted. From his home office, where he’d been working while waiting for her to arrive, he heard the doorbell. Even though he was sure it was Katy, he let Celia answer it.

After a minute, Celia knocked on his door. “Katy is here, and I think something is wrong. She ran straight upstairs to the spare bedroom. And it looked like she’d been crying.”

He bolted up from his chair, his heart in the pit of his stomach.

With Celia close behind Adam rushed up the stairs to the spare room. The door was open, so he stepped inside. The door to the bathroom was closed. He knocked softly and asked, “Katy, are you all right?”

“Give me a minute,” she called.

He walked back over to the bedroom door to wait with Celia. After several minutes the bathroom door opened and Katy emerged. She was in her girls’ clothes, and her red-rimmed eyes said she probably had been crying.

Ridiculous as it was, his first instinct was to take her in his arms and try to comfort her, which was exactly why he didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I had some light cramping this morning before I left, but I thought it might just be a fluke.” She sniffled and swiped at the tear that had spilled over onto her cheek. “But it wasn’t.”

The disappointment was all-encompassing. “You’re not pregnant?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “I was so sure it worked. I really expected to be pregnant.”

Celia crossed the room and gathered Katy in her arms, and Adam couldn’t help thinking that it should be him comforting her. But he was glad Celia had stepped in for him.

“You’ll have more chances,” Celia assured her, rubbing her back soothingly. “I know it’s disappointing, but it will happen.” She looked over at Adam and gestured to the box of tissue on the nightstand.

He plucked one out and brought it to her. Celia took it and pressed it into Katy’s hand. “Why don’t I make you a soothing cup of chamomile tea?”

Katy sniffled and nodded.

Celia turned and gave Adam a look, then jerked her head in Katy’s direction, as if to say “Console her, you idiot.” But he couldn’t seem to make himself do it.

Katy stood there dabbing her eyes. “I was so sure I was pregnant.”

“The doctor said it could take a few times.”

“I know, but I had such a good feeling.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Adam.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I feel responsible.”

She looked so damned…forlorn. And Katy never struck him as the kind of woman to cry on a whim. He recalled that even at Becca’s funeral she’d held it together. And how could he just stand there, like a selfish bastard, when he was the one who put her in this situation? Had he really grown so cold and unfeeling?

Or was it that he felt too much?

“I’m sorry,” she said in a wobbly voice. “I’m acting stupid.”

Another tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek, and he cringed. The gene all men possessed that made them wither at the sight of a crying female kicked into overdrive. Besides, if he didn’t do something, she would probably just interpret it as him being mad at her, or something equally ridiculous.

Feeling he had no choice, he stepped closer and tugged her into his arms. She came willingly, leaning into the embrace, hands fisted against his chest, head tucked under his chin.

There it was again, just like when she’d kissed his cheek, that feeling of awareness. As if every touch, every sensation was multiplied tenfold. The softness of her body where it pressed against his. The flowery scent of her hair. The flutter of her breath through his shirt and the warmth that seemed to seep through her clothing to his skin.

His body began to react the way any man’s would. Well, any man who hadn’t been this physically close to a woman in three years. Or intimate in closer to four. Until recently he couldn’t say he’d missed it. He’d barely given any thought to sex. It was as if his body had been in deep hibernation, unable to feel physical pleasure.

But he sure as hell could feel it now. And if he didn’t get a hold of himself, she would feel it, too.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Would you stop apologizing.”

“I just feel like, maybe if I had done something different, if I had been more careful.”

Beating herself up over this wasn’t going to change anything. “It was nothing you did.”

“But you only have embryos for two more attempts. What if those fail, too?”

“I knew going into this that there was a chance it wouldn’t work. I do have other options.”

“But then the last of Becca will be gone forever.”

“Katy, look at me.” She didn’t move, so he cradled her chin in his palm and lifted her face to his. Big mistake. Her eyes were wide and sad, and so blue he could almost swim in their depths, and when they locked on his, the sensation was so intense he felt it like a physical blow. Whatever it was he’d been about to say to her was lost.

Her lips parted, like she might speak, and his eyes were drawn to her mouth. Though he knew it was wrong, never had the idea of kissing a woman intrigued him this way. And clearly whatever craziness was causing this, it was doing the same to her. He could tell, by the sudden shift in her demeanor, by the look in her eyes, that she was going to kiss him again. And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to stop her.

Not only did he not stop her, but as she rose up, he leaned in to meet her halfway.

Their lips touched and whatever was left of his common sense evaporated with their mingling breath. His only coherent thought was more. Whatever she was willing to give, he would take.

So thank God Celia chose that exact instant to call up from the base of the stairs, “The tea is ready!”

Katy pulled away from him, eyes wide with the realization of what they had just done.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” he called to Celia.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, reaching up to touch her lips. “Did you feel that?”

Feel it? His heart was about to pound out of his chest. And he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.

He needed to get a hold of himself.

“Okay, this is not that bad,” she said, trying to rationalize a situation that was completely irrational. “We’re both disappointed, and upset. That’s all. This doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

Leave it to Katy to take the situation and blow it wide open.

“Right. We’re just upset.” He didn’t know if he actually believed it, but it seemed to be what she needed to hear. Why couldn’t she be one of those women who was content to pretend everything was fine. Like Becca. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to admit when there was a problem, or she was upset about something.

Of course, that had been no picnic, either. Was there no happy medium?

“We need to call the doctor’s office,” Katy said. “Find out what we should do.”

He was glad one of them was thinking clearly. Because the only clear thought he was having right now was how much he’d like to see her naked again.

They had opened a door, and he couldn’t help wondering if it was only a matter of time before someone stepped through.

* * *

She had kissed Adam. On the mouth.

One minute Katy had been racked with guilt that the procedure hadn’t worked, and the next she was practically crawling out of her skin, she was so hot for him. And thank God for Celia and her timing, or who knows what might have happened. The possibilities both horrified and intrigued her. Though Becca was gone, he would always be her brother-in-law. Her sister’s husband. To Katy and her parents, who would kill her if they had any clue what had just happened.

Sure, she’d hoped she and Adam could get to know each other, but she’d never meant in the biblical sense. Talk about going from one extreme to another.

Like her mom had so eloquently put it, he wasn’t like them. So whatever was causing these weird feelings was going to have to stop.

Despite the fact that they both seemed determined to forget it happened, their trip to the doctor’s office later that afternoon had been tense. But at least the appointment with Dr. Meyer had been encouraging. He assured her that she’d done nothing to cause the implantation to fail. He wrote her a prescription for hormone shots that she would begin taking a week before the next scheduled implantation. He explained that it could make her womb more hospitable and increase their chances for success.

She wasn’t sure what the shots were actually doing for her womb, but as she drove back to El Paso the morning of the second procedure, her emotions were in a hopeless tangle. What if things were completely awkward between her and Adam? He had emailed her a few times in the past week to check on her, but they hadn’t actually talked since her last visit.

Like last time, she drove straight to Adam’s house, then Reece took her in the limo to the clinic. She assumed Adam would already be waiting in the lobby, and she was so nervous about seeing him again her hands were trembling. But he wasn’t there yet. She waited in their usual spot by the elevator, wringing her hands. He sent her a text message a few minutes later that said he was running late, and to go on up without him.

What if he didn’t make it on time? Would they wait for him? The idea of doing this alone made her heart race.

She took the elevator up to the clinic. She checked in, hoping they would make her wait this time, but the nurse called her back right away. She took her time changing into a gown, her anxiety mounting, waiting for a reply saying that he’d arrived. But when the nurse took her to the procedure room, she had no choice but to leave her phone in her purse.