The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) Page 2

  The call disconnected. Abby leaned against the car seat, blowing out a breath of air. Tension tightened the muscles in her neck and shoulders, making them ache. The Double H ranch was suffering thanks to the drought and modern-day cattle rustlers. Recently they’d been targeting harder hit ranchers.

  On top of that, her father and brother had to let go of most of the help, and it’d become too much work for her aging father. He’d suffered multiple health scares the past year, including being diagnosed with diabetes. It broke her heart that the family’s livelihood stood on its last leg and there was nothing she could do to help. Her nursing career paid her bills, and she did have savings, but neither her brother nor father would accept a dime from her.

  Abby grabbed her stuff and stepped out of her car. The scorching Austin sun and heat slammed into her. Soon winter would break the summer cycle, and she looked forward to the cooler weather. She strode up the drive. Her patient opened the front door, a kind smile on her face.

  “Hello, dear,” Caroline said in greeting, letting Abby inside. “Something the matter?”

  “Hi, Caroline. Good to see you. Nothing’s wrong, just a heat headache.” Real affection swelled in her heart for the elderly woman, her favorite home healthcare patient.

  They settled inside her patient’s residence, and Abby did a check of her vitals. She then asked a few needed questions for her chart and scribbled the answers down. “Well, everything looks good, and it seems your new meds are doing the trick. I’m pretty sure you’re healthier than me at this point.”

  Caroline Whitmore’s musical laughter filled the room. She patted Abby’s arm. “I wouldn’t say that, dear, but thank you.”

  Caroline’s youthful eyes belied her age of seventy-five. The woman always had a bright smile, and a cheerful story to share with a dose of southern charm. And some of the best made-from-scratch lemonade in Texas. Abby took a quick break to savor a glassful, appreciating its icy temperature.

  Her patient had finally regained her strength after ovarian cancer. She’d had a hysterectomy and months of chemotherapy. Caroline proved she was a fighter, despite her age, having gone into remission faster than the doctors predicted. They’d labeled it a miracle, and honestly, so did Abby. She admired Caroline’s strength, tenacity, and spirit. Abby always said a quick prayer of thanks before bed that Caroline was on the upswing.

  Caroline excused herself to the bathroom. Abby resisted the urge to help as she watched her slow progress with a walker down the hall. Her patient was capable and didn’t need her nurse hovering over her every move.

  She turned her gaze to the room. Paintings and pottery done by Caroline herself decorated the space. Their rich, earthy colors reflected Austin’s history and landscape as well as the talent of the artist. Her attention settled onto the focal point of the room’s artwork—and it happened to be Abby’s favorite piece. A large painting of a street-level view of Austin’s yearly Pecan Street Festival. It was done in an impressionistic style, and she admired the strong strokes of yellow, blue, and red, representing angles of sunlight and shade. Slashes of black marked the passing of people on a slate-gray street.

  Interestingly, the artist wasn’t Caroline, but her son Liam. Caroline had told her he’d painted it at twenty years of age. She knew little of Liam outside of newscasts and gossip she generally ignored. Still it seemed odd a man like him was capable of such artistic expression. One would assume heading a massive conglomerate would require a whole different set of skills.

  The painting had always drawn Abby’s greedy eyes in its uninhibited use of a paintbrush. Expert and exquisite in every detail, passion had created the piece. A young man in control of his hands yet lost to his desire to create. Sensual, dramatic, and almost erotic.

  Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Behind her closed eyelids an image of Liam as she’d last seen him popped up. He’d dropped by to see his mother while Abby was still with her. Seeing the billionaire outside of a camera lens proved startling. Taller than she’d anticipated but with the commanding presence she’d expected. He’d been genial toward Abby, his gaze giving her a quick perusal before dismissing her. While he’d dropped a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek, Abby had indulged in a bit of feminine approval of his masculinity. Then she’d caught herself and scolded her wayward hormones.

  A tabloid had gotten a photo of him shirtless on a yacht during the summer. He kept in shape, no doubt about it. The solid muscle of a man who worked his body outside of the weight room. Muscle which was familiar with use and intended to be functional for whichever sport created them. Not simply fashionable as an expression of virility. A physique that hinted endurance for long hours of—

  “Miss Haden?”

  Abby gasped and whirled toward the front door. Glaring sunshine outlined a tall, dark shape in the open doorway. She blinked then squinted, her eyes adjusting before her face flushed hot to her ears. “Oh, uh, Mr. Whitmore,” she croaked out. “Hi.”

  As if manifested from her errant thoughts, Liam Whitmore stepped into the home and closed the door behind him. He eyed her with curiosity, glanced to his painting then back to her.

  “I-I like this painting,” Abby stuttered, feeling the need to explain. She felt sure her meandering daydreams of his sexual prowess were written all over her face. Not that he shouldn’t be used to women swooning over him, she reminded herself. That straightened her backbone, and she lifted her chin. “Your mother is in the restroom.”

  He stepped closer, and she took an involuntary step backward. He clasped his hands behind his back and squared his broad shoulders toward her. She lifted her chin higher to look into his face. He towered over her. No surprise in those genetics, his mother was a good six inches taller than her too.

  “How are you, Miss Haden?” His gaze drifted over her face, a penetrating search as if he were looking for something specific. She realized he had his mother’s eyes. Though they appeared a very dark brown, in the light they’d reveal themselves to be dark blue. Unlike Caroline’s, they held no hint of gentleness, only sharp scrutiny. His gaze drifted to the base of her neck, where she toyed with her necklace.

  “I’m well.” She shifted beneath his eyes, but held her ground. “And you?” She’d read his father had passed away, though asking him of it seemed too personal.

  “I’m doing well, thank you. Miss Haden, I—”

  “My boy, how are you?” Caroline interrupted. Her eyes shone with adoration for her only child as she made her way toward them.

  A visible change washed over Liam, his expression turning to boyish happiness as he walked to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, keeping pace with her as she made it to her favorite chair. Seeing the obvious affection he had for his mother left Abby with a soft spot inside, she’d seen it in him before. Liam didn’t strike her as someone who’d display such depth of emotion—at least not outside of a board room while stealing someone’s company. She imagined he fed off of that.

  She turned away and started collecting her supplies while they chatted.

  “I’m sorry for interrupting, but if there isn’t anything else, Caroline, I’ll leave you two to your afternoon,” Abby said, clutching her bag and medical chart close.

  Caroline shook her head and smiled. Abby nodded to her patient then turned toward the front door.

  “Miss Haden, can I speak with you for a moment?” Liam asked.

  Abby looked at him in surprise. “Um, sure, yeah.” She inwardly cursed her ability to blush brightly at the drop of a hat. “Excuse me,” she said to Caroline as she followed Liam to the kitchen, out of earshot.

  Quickly deciding he wanted information on his mother’s progress, she began filling him in. “Mr. Whitmore, I want to assure you Caroline’s health is improving rapidly. The new medication her doctor prescribed is doing wonders,” Abby stammered, annoyed with the breathlessness of her voice. She took a deep, settling breath. “She’s a fighter, and I personally believe she’ll make a full recovery.”

  Liam
shoved his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, his gaze boring into her, his lips turned down into a slight frown. His eyes held the look of a brewing storm. Her skin burned under his intense examination, and she shifted nervously, hugging the medical chart and her bag to her chest. Feeling as if she were about to be reprimanded, she searched her mind for any reason why. She stubbornly held his gaze.

  He broke his penetrating stare, moving it out the window over the sink. Abby deflated, and studied his profile. Sharp cheekbones, smoothly shaven skin, an aquiline nose which enhanced his regal presence, firm lips—he could’ve been created from marble. A statue expertly carved then brought to life by some magic long ago. But beneath his eyes, dark shadows of exhaustion marred his olive complexion, destroying the overall effect and making him indeed human.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek, willing her heart rate to slow down.

  “I’m happy to hear your prognosis, but I’ve already spoken with her oncologist. She’s filled me in.” He rocked back on his heels and let out a breath. “You’re single, isn’t that right, Miss Haden? My mother speaks highly of you and mentioned that in passing.”

  Abby’s mouth fell open. Could it be possible that Mr. Liam Whitmore III, the very rich and most coveted bachelor in Austin, Texas, wanted to ask her out on a date? An image of the woman he was rumored to be dating—the tall, brunette, and doctor-enhanced—Charity Belmont, popped to mind. Charity was the complete opposite of Abby in every way, both physically and in social standing.

  Abby squeaked out a ‘yes’ to his question. His eyes never left the window, for which she was grateful. Her face flamed hotter, and she could only imagine the five shades of scarlet it’d turned. Silence stretched between them, and Abby inhaled the heady, spicy scent of his expensive aftershave until she felt ready to hyperventilate.

  “I have a business proposition for you, Miss Haden. It seems I’ve come into a situation where I must provide an heir to the family name within a year.” He paused and a muscle in his jaw worked. “I have no desire to be tied down at this point in my life.”

  Another pause. The muscle in his jaw kept working and she imagined she heard the slight grating of his teeth. His gaze moved back to hers, pinning her in place. A storm raged in the depths of his eyes and a chill raced over her skin. I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. Her heart rate kicked up another notch; she was at a loss to the direction of their conversation.

  Nervous anticipation mixed with a dose of annoyance with being out of the loop. He didn’t strike her as someone who’d beat around the bush.

  The bomb dropped. “Miss Haden, I’m willing to pay you five hundred thousand dollars to have my child.”

  Abby shook her head in disbelief, and clutched the edge of the kitchen counter. The medical chart clattered to the floor, catching her big toe, followed by the bag. The pain didn’t quite register. “Have your child? What? Why? Why me? What?” She clamped her teeth to stem the flood of words.

  “It’s a complicated story as to the whys, but rest assured I’ll handle all medical expenses. I will also pay all fees to provide a good education. And you’ll have sole custody. The only thing I require is that the child take the Whitmore name and be declared an heir.”

  Abby blinked several times, sure she had to be dreaming. At the age of thirty-two she’d all but given up hope of having a child of her own. Her biological clock had kicked into high gear, but she’d long ago decided she needed to be married first. And the older she got, the harder it seemed to find that one decent guy to spend the rest of her life with.

  Now the incredibly sexy and notorious Austin womanizer, Liam Whitmore, wanted to pay her to have a kid? She was completely dumbfounded.

  “I…I don’t know what to say, Mr. Whitmore.” Abby’s eyes couldn’t be still, darting around the cozy kitchen like an agitated bird, unable to settle on the man before her. “Why not ask the women in your social circle?”

  “The women I date aren’t an option. As I said, I want my freedom, and the women I associate with wouldn’t be happy with just a small cash payoff.”

  Small? Of course for Liam the billionaire, half a million dollars was indeed small. This can’t be happening. “I must be dreaming.”

  “Unfortunately not, Miss Haden,” Liam replied. The deep rumble of his voice rasped over her nerve endings, a thrilling sensation only adding to her whirligig thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to think this over.” She fixed her gaze on Liam’s forest-green silk tie with a golden tiepin monogramed with LW, imagining it’d cost several weeks wages for her. “It’s really sudden and…” crazy.

  His thick black brows knit together, and he scowled briefly. He recovered and pulled a business card from his pocket. “Call me within the next couple of days with an answer, Miss Haden. I don’t have much time.”

  Abby took the card, frowning at her trembling hand. Liam left her alone while she recollected and reassembled herself into a presentable person. She left the kitchen and headed for the door, waving goodbye to Caroline on the way out. Liam’s gaze pierced through her retreating back as she fled, leaving her insides a quivering mass.

  She had her car door open, ready to make her escape, when Liam caught up to her. He grasp the door, invading her personal space.

  “One more thing, Miss Haden.” His presence enveloped her, his body heat adding to the scorching sunlight. Her spine stiffened in reflex. “I trust you will keep our conversation in confidence. Otherwise, there may be consequences.” His eyes glittered with the unconcealed threat.

  Anger fired and she faced him, meeting him squarely in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Mr. Whitmore. I have no desire to make an appearance in the gossip rags with you. I’d never lower myself to such means to get attention.”

  She turned to her car, but he placed a hand on her shoulder before she could climb inside. She spun around, ready to give the overbearing jackass a piece of her mind. Her gold necklace with its small heart-shaped charm dangled from his fingertips. Her eyes widened and she snatched it away. Her most precious belonging...it’d been her mother’s.

  “I found it lying on the floor by the front door,” he said. “The clasp looks like it needs to be repaired.”

  She mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ and retreated inside her car.

  Chapter 3

  Liam watched her drive off, annoyed with his haphazard approach to the offer. Miss Haden seemed offended. He’d assumed the direct approach would be best, but obviously she’d been blindsided. Not that he could blame her. It wasn’t every day someone was offered cash to have a kid. If he’d been in her place, he wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted.

  She didn’t say no. Liam hung on to that, a thread of hope he desperately needed at the moment.

  He rubbed his jaw and blew out air. He’d lost touch with how to deal with people outside of a boardroom. Honestly, he had very little contact with people beyond the dealings of business. Marty’s and charity functions were the extent of his life beyond Whitmore Tower. Not that he regretted his reclusive life; he’d never been much of a socializer, even as a kid.

  Without the nurse’s cooperation there were no other options. He’d racked his mind for any other woman who would take the situation lightly—not strap him into marriage and the endless functions of parenthood. He’d spent a long, sleepless night running into dead ends and a wall of frustration, until he’d given up and headed to work at four AM.

  Having his child outside of a relationship would mar reputations, making a woman the butt of embarrassing gossip. Not an acceptable thing when you rubbed shoulders with influential political figures and others with impressive standings in society. In his circle, people considered their reputations more valuable than gold. Not that he’d ever gone out of his way to impress anyone, but he couldn’t expect others to share his views.

  He hated the deceitful world that surrounded him. Men and women with gleaming careers, and tarnished skeletons stuffed into the backs of their closets. Skeletons made up of lie
s and tricks, always easily accessible to those who wanted to take them out, brush them off, and dirty them up some more.

  His father hadn’t played at being a righteous public figure. He’d never tried to hide who he was, displaying his calloused personality and less than commendable lifestyle without shame. Even the tabloids couldn’t make a game of digging out his dirt when it was in full view to anyone who wanted to see it. One of the few things Liam could respect him for, he’d never believed in sporting a false front to garner even falser respect.

  Never had Liam felt so alone, and he wished he could share his worries with his mother. With her ill health, he wouldn’t risk upsetting her. Not that she’d be surprised by anything his father would do. They had long ago separated, she living her life, and his father his, shortly after Liam had left for college. Though they hadn’t gone through with an actual divorce, they, nonetheless, had little to do with one another.

  His parents had always been such opposites. His mother kind, soft spoken, and forgiving. His father, a hard and driven man who accepted no weakness. Liam often wondered what had brought them together in the first place.

  Without Miss Haden he’d have to face the inevitable—lose his company or his independence. He’d have to contact a former flame, explain his situation, then a quick marriage, and a quicker conception. He rubbed his hand over his face. Even if it were all possible, he’d spend the rest of his life with a woman who didn’t challenge or excite him. None of his past relationships had, and one of the reasons he’d decided against marrying before the age of fifty. His old man had had extramarital affairs long before his parents separated, but he couldn’t do the same. Maybe he wouldn’t love the woman, but he wouldn’t break his vows, regardless of what they were based on.

  His company or his independence. Both bitter defeats, nearly level to one another when viewed through his eyes.

  Liam shoved his hands inside his pockets and turned his face toward the sky. His skin heated until sweat trickled down his brow, the blazing sun making him squint despite his closed eyelids. He thought of Miss Haden, with her wholesome looks untouched by makeup, and long blonde hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. When she walked she had a bounce to her step that brought out his smile, and a refreshing lightness of character which sparkled in her eyes.