The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) Read online

  A child would be happy with her; it wouldn’t be shuttled off to nannies and boarding schools. His own mother had resisted those things, and while under her wing in his earliest youth, he’d been happy. Though he didn’t want to be involved with the messy and tedious business of raising a kid, he didn’t want the child miserable either.

  The oppressive sunshine won out. He turned on his heel and marched back inside his mother’s home.

  Later in the day, and back in his office, Liam found it hard to concentrate. Charity sat across from him, long legs crossed, a curious look on her face. She tapped an ink pen to the pad of paper in her lap.

  “You’re not going to tell me what’s wrong?” she broached. “If you tell me what it is, I might be able to help.”

  They’d known one another since college. While she could’ve gone further with her business degree and intellect, she’d chosen the hefty paycheck he’d offered her to be his personal assistant. Charity was one of the few people he could trust, and he’d wanted to keep her close.

  He frowned and leaned back in his office chair, turning away from his assistant to stare out the windows. Dwarfed buildings stood below, while beyond, hints of green and dusty brown of the natural landscape appeared. The ribbon of Lady Bird Lake glittered, a dark watered-down stain nestled between the vibrant green of its trees.

  In a few hours over a million bats would swarm from beneath the Congress Avenue Bridge. A nightly spectacle that fascinated many who lined up on the bridge to watch it in the warmer months when the bats lived in the city. People could slap down asphalt and steel, and call the ground their own, but they’d never completely dominate Texas. That was part of the reason he loved the state.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard about the whole mess from Spencer,” he stated, returning to the topic at hand.

  “He did seem anxious after the will reading, but hasn’t commented on what happened. At least to me, but he knows where my loyalty lies.”

  She was the one friend he had in the entire city, he thought as he studied the clear sky. Friendship had never come easily for him, his patience lacking in the effort it required. Liam blew out a breath then explained his situation, including approaching Miss Haden with his deal. Charity remained quiet, and when he turned back to her, he found her sporting a look of disbelief.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her face a mask of empathy. “You really are in a tight spot.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, a headache throbbing behind them. He pulled open a desk drawer and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. He popped a couple in his mouth, swallowing them dry. “If Miss Haden doesn’t take my offer, I’m shit out of luck.”

  “Give her time, don’t count her out yet. I imagine you’ve completely shocked her.”

  “What would you say?” he asked, curious to her opinion.

  She pursed her lips. “If I were her, I’d consider what five hundred thousand dollars could do for me. I met her once when you had me drop off paperwork to your mother, and she looks like the maternal type. I think she’ll seriously consider your deal.”

  He leaned his elbows atop his desk and grinned. “What about you, would you consider my offer?”

  She returned his smile. “I don’t object to rug rats running around underfoot, but they aren’t coming from this body. I’ve worked too hard for it.” She winked.

  He hadn’t been serious with his question. While Charity was a loyal employee, she also had a wild streak which couldn’t make room for a pregnancy. A wild streak the tabloids hadn’t even touched on—an everlasting puzzle for him. Then again, pairing him and Charity up seemed to sell for them.

  “Come out to my place this Saturday, Liam. Summer’s almost gone and you haven’t been to visit once. I’m throwing a pool party.”

  “I have to work,” he said.

  She shook her head. “That’s not an acceptable answer. Come out, or I’ll show up butt naked on your stoop and make a scene.”

  He chuckled. “A naked woman isn’t much of a threat.”

  “Well, I don’t think the neighbors will appreciate it. And you’re desperate for some relaxation, and don’t say you aren’t. Not to mention you’ll have a chance to hang out with several attractive women in tiny bikinis. Maybe you’ll hit it off with one of them, and she’ll help you forget your woes.”

  He took a moment to consider the offer. Bikinis didn’t appeal to him with the amount of stress he was under, but an opportunity to walk away from it for a few hours did. Charity threw raucous parties. He’d find a way to stay in the background and let the chaos be a distraction.

  “What the hell, I’ll be at your place around noon Saturday.”

  “Perfect.”

  The day trudged on at a marcher’s pace and very little went right. A company called Harbor Incorporated had backed out of a deal, deciding against a leveraged buyout. Liam recognized the tactic of trying to secure a better bottom line for themselves and normally he handled it with ease. This time, he’d had a loud disagreement with its owner, venting more emotion into the conversation than the situation warranted. It gave the owner the upper hand, or at least Liam believed it had. One thing you never wanted to show was frustration in a business transaction, unless you wanted to prove your weakness against your opponent.

  The owner had jumped on his weak spot, throwing out the better offer he’d received from KayBona. Richard and Martin had outbid him yet again, and it was happening much too often to be coincidence.

  Within a matter of hours Liam had a pounding headache and he was grateful when business shut down for the day. He retreated to the apartment he kept inside Whitmore Tower off from his office, showered, and faced another sleepless night. His mood already dipped toward intolerable, even by his own standards. He paced the length of the apartment with a glass of bourbon in hand. Neither action nor alcohol soothed his worries. He hadn’t had a bout of insecurity since childhood, and didn’t know how to deal with it. With no idea if Miss Haden would accept his offer, he hung suspended in limbo.

  His thoughts turned to Spencer and his blood pressure rose. He gulped down his bourbon, downing the entire glass. Spencer had put him in this impossible position. Liam senior would’ve never added such an asinine addendum to the will, not without a fair amount of influence and backstabbing on his cousin’s part.

  Liam’s own ill health didn’t put Whitmore Incorporated in danger. Though he’d suffered chest pains, he wouldn’t drop dead of a heart attack any time soon. He’d started watching his diet, staying away from all the stuff his doctor had advised against—save for his nightly bourbon. And of course he couldn’t avoid excessive stress, not with the demands of his job.

  He took another circle of his apartment, considering a trip into downtown Austin to hit Marty’s. He kept the gym open until one AM for the working class late nighters.

  A soft knock on his front door brought him to a halt. He walked to the door, ignoring the fact he only wore boxer briefs. He knew who it’d be since no one else ever disturbed him in his apartment, which was part of the reason he stayed there on weekdays and many weekends.

  “Charity, come in,” he said after answering.

  She held up a bottle of red wine. “I figured you could use some company. Heard anything from your little nurse?”

  Though he’d have preferred solitude, he wouldn’t turn her away. Liam gave her a tight grin. “No.”

  “Well, let’s forget about our woes tonight and spend an evening like the old days. Before you became the Takeover Tyrant.” Her gaze raked over him, and she cocked an eyebrow. “Pants optional.”

  He took the bottle of wine. “I don’t know if I can handle that much fun now. I’m getting too old.”

  “Age is just a number, babe.” She strode to the couch, took a seat, and stretched her legs onto the coffee table, crossing her ankles. She’d redressed in jeans and a top that hugged her body. “Now grab a couple of glasses and come on over here.”

  Liam considered throwing
on a pair of pants then decided against it. Modesty wasn’t needed when it came to Charity.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the day passed quickly as Abby finished her nursing rounds. Her mind was in a fog as she replayed her meeting with Liam time and time again. She’d promised to meet a friend for an early dinner, though her enthusiasm had waned for socialization.

  “You look like someone kidnapped your dog,” Lupita commented as they took a seat in their favorite Tex Mex restaurant. “What’s up? Sick patient?”

  Abby shook her head and picked up her menu, using it to hide her face. While she loved her friend, she felt she needed to keep a tight lid on the personal matter. A waiter set down a bowl of chips, salsa, and glasses of ice water. Abby ordered her usual, spinach enchiladas and a strawberry margarita. Her friend placed her order, and the server left them alone.

  Lupita dove into the crunchy chips, but Abby’s appetite had fled.

  “Seriously, girl, something’s up. I want to hear it.”

  “Just ranch stuff.” In the past she’d shared part of the struggles her father and brother faced.

  “Oh, that’s a shame. A real shame.” Lupita rattled off some quick Spanish, and Abby only caught pieces which sounded like a prayer.

  The waiter reappeared. Abby grabbed her margarita after he set it on the table and took a hefty swig. She cleared her throat. “I saw Liam today while I was at Caroline’s.”

  Lupita raised an eyebrow. “So how is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “He seems fine.” Her motives were to dig for dirt. Lupita kept on top of what the celebrity set did. “Have you read anything juicy about him lately?”

  “About Liam? Since when are you interested in juicy?”

  “I mean, I never know what’s going on in the world.” The explanation sounded weak to her ears, but she pressed on. “I realized I don’t know anything about him.”

  Lupita leaned back in her chair and smiled before making a clucking sound with her tongue. “Ah, looks like someone has got bitten by the love bug.”

  Abby blushed to the tips of her ears and fiddled with her necklace. “No, that’s not it at all.”

  “Uh-huh, I bet. So what happened, did he put the moves on you?”

  Her face burned and she gulped down her margarita, giving herself brain freeze. She winced.

  “Come on, Abby,” Lupita continued. “You’re an attractive woman, no reason he shouldn’t notice you.”

  Abby shook her head. “No, I swear he didn’t put the moves on me. It’s sincere curiosity.”

  Her friend sipped her beer, not looking in the least convinced. “What do you want to know?”

  Abby lifted a shoulder. “Whatever.”

  “Okay, ‘whatever’ I can do. You know his reputation, right?”

  Who didn’t know about Liam the ladies’ man? “Sure, he’s popular with women.”

  Lupita took another drink from her beer bottle and set it aside, leaning forward. “No, not that, I mean his reputation in business. He’s the Takeover Tyrant. He goes in, uses his pull on a company’s lenders, forcing their hand in selling their businesses to him. Small mom-and-pop places that can’t fight his empire.”

  “The Takeover Tyrant?” Abby screwed her face up, she’d heard his title before. “Sounds…melodramatic.”

  “Not at all. He’s ruthless. How do you think he’s expanded so much since taking over for his father? Liam senior had a rep for being a hard ass, but his son has outdone him five times over.”

  An ugly feeling settled in her gut, not one she wanted to dwell on. “How is that legal though?”

  “If companies are behind on bank payments or whatever, lenders can call their loans.”

  The ugly feeling twisted into a tight knot. It reminded her of the Double H’s situation. She guzzled her drink until a pleasant buzz dulled her angst. She waved to the waiter and ordered another. Lupita would be driving her home.

  “Do you still need me to cover at the shelter tomorrow?” Abby asked, needing to change the subject. She and Lupita donated their nursing skills to a Travis County battered women’s shelter.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind. My son made the play-offs.”

  “That’s wonderful, tell me all about it.”

  They spent the rest of the meal in more pleasant chatter. She picked at her food and finally had it bagged up to take home.

  By late evening Abby was nestled on her couch, nursing a cup of decaf coffee, and a headache left by the aftereffects of getting half-drunk at the restaurant. Her goldfish aquarium gurgled and hummed soothingly. A backdrop to her rattled thoughts, while the cross-stitch of the Texas state capitol building she’d started sat untouched on her lap. She waited for her brother to return her call, having left a message as soon as she’d gotten off work. He’d always been terrible at returning calls.

  For distraction she grabbed her laptop and typed in Whitmore Incorporated. The search turned up countless articles. After choosing the few which looked most promising, and outside of the ‘official’ website, she began her research. The company had been built from the ground up after Liam Whitmore II had taken a small loan from Caleb Brett back in the late fifties.

  Abby’s brows knit together, surprised to see the surname Brett.

  “I wonder if Caleb Brett is related to Caroline?” she asked aloud. Caroline’s maiden name was Brett.

  Liam II had been raised by poor Irish immigrant parents, his father doing menial jobs for a few dollars a day. Liam had to drop out of school to help his father keep the family fed. Gifted with business smarts, Liam began taking over small mom-and-pop businesses by the time he was twenty-one, slowly building his company into the conglomerate it was today.

  Interestingly, he’d also bought out Caleb Brett’s farming supplies store when it had been on the verge of bankruptcy. Upon further investigation she found a rumor Liam II had swayed Caleb’s lenders and forced Caleb’s hand into the sale.

  Through merciless determination, the company grew to what it was now—an empire. Liam Whitmore III had followed in his father’s footsteps, backing up what Lupita had told her.

  “What do I do?” She watched her goldfish, their little multicolored bodies swimming in their fifty gallon world. Some drifted listlessly while others darted around, chasing others or snatching unseen bits of food.

  What were the chances she’d find her ideal man to have a baby with before she hit menopause? She hadn’t had a date in over six months and the dating pool of good eligible men was getting smaller and smaller the older she got. Liam wouldn’t be playing father, only benefactor. He wouldn’t be much of a bad influence on either her or the baby.

  Her cellphone chirped. She grabbed it up, desperate for a comforting voice.

  “Hey, Mark,” Abby greeted her brother.

  “Dad’s doing fine, he just needs some bed rest. Which, of course, he refuses. God, Abs, we lost twenty head yesterday. Rustlers hit us again. That makes thirty this year. Thirty, and insurance won’t cover what they’re worth. How the hell are we going to get the bank off our asses?”

  Abby winced; anger and exhaustion strained her brother’s voice. His emotions wound around her heart, and she felt them bubble up, until a lump formed in her throat.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump on you.”

  “No, don’t apologize, I need to know these things. Have you talked with the bank?”

  “This morning after we found the cattle gone. They want to call us on the loan, but hell, sis, we’re months behind on our payments. I can’t say I blame ’em.”

  “What do you owe on the place?”

  “Two hundred fifty thousand and change.”

  Abby’s breath left in a whoosh. Her savings couldn’t touch that sum. “How long do you have?”

  “Two months if we’re lucky. They’ve done us a favor since Howard, the bank president, and Dad are good friends. But they can’t keep it up.”

  She fell against the sofa back. “You can’t
get some kind of extension? Even three months?”

  “Not a chance. What good would it do anyway?”

  When the Texas drought hit they’d had to mortgage the land to buy hay and water rights. Several years later it seemed all a complete and hopeless failure. Her brother’s wheezing breath caught her attention. “You need your inhaler, Mark.”

  He coughed. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Do you have it?”

  He mumbled something.

  “What?”

  “I said don’t worry. I have to go help Dad.”

  “Okay, love you,” she said, but Mark had already disconnected the call.

  Two months. They had to come up with two hundred fifty thousand dollars in two months. Who could possibly do that? She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  She could do it. She had to do it. A quick glance to the clock let her know it was almost ten, too late to call Liam. His business card lay on the end table next to her coffee cup. She picked up the black card and ran the tip of her index finger over the red embossed lettering.

  Liam Michael Whitmore III, C.E.O.

  Whitmore Incorporated

  His office number was listed on the front of the card. On the back, scribbled in red ink, was Liam’s cellphone number.

  After a few moments she typed Austin fertility clinics into the laptop’s search engine. She figured she’d make a list of places available to do artificial insemination. Liam may not have one yet. On her lunch break the following day she’d call as many as she could to find the one with the first available appointment.

  * * * *

  Abby was stressed beyond belief. The clinics she’d called were all booked months ahead of time, well outside of the timeframe she and Liam had. She massaged her aching forehead and said a silent prayer Liam already had a place available.