The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) Read online

Page 4


  She tapped his business card against the kitchen counter, her cellphone in the other hand. Nerves left her sweaty and her hands trembled. His office number was typed into her phone; all she had to do was hit send. That’s all she had to do to possibly have the money to save her family’s ranch. Five hundred thousand dollars would go a long way toward replacing stolen cattle, and perhaps hiring a few more hands to help out.

  Not to mention the chance to have a baby. Though she wouldn’t allow herself to focus on it, fearing if she got her hopes too high, her heart would break if she wasn’t able to conceive. Her family losing their livelihood would hurt enough; losing this opportunity to have a child would be salt to an exposed wound. Once she’d known the joy of expectation, feeling a tiny life growing within her womb. But it’d been a too brief fourteen weeks, the beautiful experience cut short. Her bad circumstances at the time wouldn’t have been healthy for a baby, so perhaps it’d been for the best.

  Abby stifled the heartache the memory always caused, both for the loss and for the reasons behind it. She stared at the phone and swallowed. The whole conception would be handled professionally. Not an ideal way to bring a child into the world, but she felt sure her baby would never want for love. Her father and brother would probably be disapproving in the beginning toward the way she’d chosen to conceive. But she knew their big hearts would welcome the new family member without a second thought once the child was born.

  She closed her eyes tight and pressed send on her phone. Liam’s phone rang once, twice, three times. A bit relieved, she waited to be routed to his voicemail.

  “Liam Whitmore’s office.”

  She sucked in a hard breath and nearly dropped the phone. “Uh…hi…this is Abby Haden, Abigail Haden that is.”

  “Yes, Miss Haden,” the receptionist said quickly. “Please hold.”

  Several seconds passed.

  “This is Liam.”

  “I…” Abby paused, searching her heart one last time. Her grip on her cellphone tightened, and her courage failed. “I…I…”

  “What’s the holdup?” Liam asked, his voice gruff.

  She flinched. “H-holdup?” she stammered.

  “Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars, and that’s the final offer, Miss Haden. Take it or leave it.”

  Abby blinked. “That’s not—”

  “Take it or leave it,” Liam interrupted. “I want an answer now.”

  His brisk tone set her on edge and raised her ire.

  Her courage returned. “Fine, but I have a requirement.”

  His pause felt tangible through the phone, and she feared he’d had second thoughts. Not that she’d back down from her decision.

  “What is it?” He nearly growled the question.

  She filled her lungs with air. “I want two hundred fifty thousand upon conception, the rest after the baby is born.”

  Another pause. “We have a deal.” His anger had disappeared, his voice holding no hint of emotion.

  Abby blew out her pent-up breath. “Okay, good. I’ve been unable to find a clinic for the…the artificial, um, you know.” She placed a cool palm on her flaming hot cheek. If it was possible to die from embarrassment, she’d be a goner for sure.

  “I’m not following you, Miss Haden,” Liam said. She heard papers shuffling in the background. “I’ll have the contract drawn up.”

  “Artificial insemination,” Abby blurted out.

  “Artificial insemination?” He sounded taken aback. “I hadn’t considered any such thing.”

  Abby frowned in confusion. “How else are we going to get me pregnant?”

  Liam’s laughter echoed through the phone. Rich and throaty, it sent a hot tingle down Abby’s spine. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.

  “Miss Haden, there are such pleasurable ways of making a baby that are quite successful,” he said, his voice dropping to a deep rumble over the phone. Abby took a shuddering breath as it did obscene things to her insides. His tone returned to its more business-like manner. “I have a cabin in Aspen. As soon as your cycle is at the most likely time for you to conceive we’ll fly up there for a week,” he said. “AI would take too much time,” he added.

  “I-I didn’t plan on that,” Abby stuttered, her mind reeling. Sex hadn’t been in the equation when she’d made her decision. Sex? With Liam? Oh my God. Her heart kicked into overdrive. “Look, Mr. Whitmore—”

  “I’ll set up an appointment with my physician for STD tests. Can you be there tomorrow afternoon by, say…” He paused briefly. “Three-thirty?”

  “Mr. Whitmore, I—”

  “Do you know when you’ll most likely ovulate again?”

  Abby blinked, she was being steamrolled.

  “Miss Haden, it’s a simple question. I need to know.”

  She looked at her calendar, she’d already figured up the days in case she’d gotten an appointment at one of the clinics she called. “Um, next week, but listen—”

  Liam pushed on. “I’ll have everything set up. We can leave for Aspen late Sunday evening. My personal assistant will be in touch tomorrow morning to give you directions to my physician’s office.”

  “Mr. Whitmore, there’s no way I can get off work for a week on such short notice. It’s Tuesday,” she insisted, trying to backpedal.

  “It’s taken care of. Don’t worry, Abigail,” he said.

  The sound of her given name rolling off his tongue caught her off guard. It stopped her next objection dead in its tracks.

  “What’s your contact number?” he asked.

  Abby gave him her cellphone number.

  After a quick ‘thank you’ Liam hung up, leaving Abby in a bit of a stupor. His driven personality explained his business success, as well as the rumored success he had with women. He was a raging river and she had been helplessly swept along in its current.

  Chapter 5

  Liam shook his head. Artificial insemination? The idea hadn’t occurred to him or the idea that Abigail would want to go that route. He frowned. She was an attractive woman, and one he wouldn’t mind spending a few nights with in bed, but maybe he wasn’t her type? Liam rubbed his hand over his jaw. Regardless, they’d have to make the old-fashioned way of reproduction work for them. He had a few tricks up his sleeve if she needed persuasion.

  Unless, of course, she was more his assistant’s type, which he hoped to God wasn’t the case.

  A quick knock sounded at his office door. Charity poked her head inside.

  “The meeting is about to start, Liam,” she said.

  “Give me another minute or two.”

  Gathering paperwork in a bundle, he prepared to go do what he did best—take over another failing company. Gingerbay was a struggling family-run manufacturing business ready to collapse under its own poor financial management. Anthony Jones was a stubborn man, unwilling to turn over the company named after his late wife Ginger. After speaking with Gingerbay’s lenders and using his pull, Liam now had the upper hand in negotiations. The business’s interest rates on delinquent loans had been driven up to a rate which made it impossible for Anthony to survive.

  It was inevitable Anthony would lose his company, and at least Liam’s way offered him an option outside of bankruptcy and personal financial ruin. He left his office and walked to the conference room.

  Anthony sat in one of the seats on the long side of the table dominating the space. Leaning forward, with his hands clasped together on the polished gray marbled top, he appeared to be praying. His ruddy face stood in stark contrast to his shock of white, thinning hair and equally white, neatly groomed mustache. His brown eyes were weary as he peered up to watch Liam walk through the door. Seated next to him was a man Liam recognized as Anthony’s attorney, Steven Cummings. On the opposite side of the attorney sat Charity, poised, professional, and confident in her tailored business suit.

  Tension hung in the air as he took a seat directly across from Anthony. He extended his hand. Anthony hesitated before accepting it in a punishing
grip.

  Liam smiled inwardly. He respected the fight this man was giving him, even if it were all for naught.

  “Mr. Jones,” Liam said in greeting. He greeted Mr. Cummings similarly.

  “I really appreciate how you bowled over my lenders, Mr. Whitmore. You’re a chip off the old block.” Anthony’s lip curled into a sneer as he tried to stare him down. Liam smiled and glanced over to the back wall of the conference room, he had no desire to have a staring competition with Mr. Jones. A commissioned painting of Liam Whitmore II at sixty-five years of age was the only adornment in the room. Its large, commanding presence was much like the man.

  Liam looked down to his collection of paperwork. He pushed them toward Anthony.

  “Here’s the contract, Mr. Jones.”

  Anthony slapped his hand down on the papers, jarring the table. “What about all my employees? What do they get out of this…this bullshit here? Huh? An ‘I’m sorry but I’ll see ya’ would be my guess.” He folded his arms over his thick chest. “This ain’t anything more than a hostile takeover.”

  Liam didn’t blink an eye over the man’s outburst. “This is a leveraged buyout, not a takeover. And as I understand it, Mr. Jones, half of your workforce has already been laid off. Isn’t that right?”

  Liam leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of him, letting his words sink in. The odor of wood polish and cleaner mixed with the scent of aftershave and Charity’s perfume. Anthony looked to his attorney who gave him a brief nod and collected the contract. He looked through it page by page. Several minutes passed.

  “Everything is as discussed, Anthony,” Mr. Cummings stated after the last page. “If you have anything to add, now is the time.”

  Anthony’s shoulders slumped and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. His ruddy complexion turned ashen. “I need to know my workers will be taken care of, Mr. Whitmore. Some have worked for me for nearly thirty years. From back when I started the company. They are the backbone of Gingerbay.”

  Liam gave a quick nod. “I’ll see what I can do for your more skilled people, Mr. Jones. I don’t want to get rid of your most competent help. I’ll only be redirecting your manufacturing process and I’ll need your best laborers to make this a successful transition.”

  Anthony shook his head, his heavy jowls jiggling with the movement. “That’s not good enough. I want all my employees to have some kind of severance package if they need it. If you want the company, this is the deal.”

  “If you keep your company, everyone loses. You need to count your losses and move on.”

  “I owe it to my people,” Anthony insisted. “I can’t let them down.”

  His last words were strained and his eyes shone with unshed tears. His passion for his employees struck a chord in Liam’s gut. He felt almost sorry for Anthony, along with a twinge of something much akin to guilt. The painting of Liam II loomed in his peripheral vision, reminding him of the life rules he’d learned at his father’s knee. There was no mercy in the shark infested world of business.

  He sat up straighter and folded his hands in his lap. “I’ll offer reimbursement for educational costs to anyone wanting to go back to college. How’s that? And that’s all I’m willing to offer you, Mr. Jones. Do we have a deal?”

  Heartbeats ticked by. Anthony’s audible swallow preceded the shadow of defeat across his face. Liam II had fed off this moment. His eyes would glow with the exchange of power in a deal heavily weighted in his favor. His son had never felt the same elation. Actually, he felt nothing at all as he watched the man’s determination collapse. It wasn’t a grand spectacle, only a slight shift in the downturn of his mouth. His shoulders drooped beneath the unseen burden of loss.

  Anthony nodded, staring down to his balled-up fists resting on the table. “You’re the devil, same as your old man.” His words slipped out, nearly inaudible. “Same as ’im. Yes, we have a deal.”

  Liam had heard the comparison too many times to count. Once it’d aggravated him, but now the accusation meant nothing.

  They wrapped up the meeting, and Liam saw the two men out. Back in his office he instructed Charity on his plans with Abigail.

  “I’m happy to hear she accepted the offer. A week in Aspen with an attractive woman will do you good, Liam.” She smiled.

  Liam shrugged. “It’s business, Charity, nothing more.”

  Charity chuckled. “Leave it to Mr. Whitmore III to turn a week of unadulterated sex into solely a business venture.”

  He eyed his assistant, before he let a smile slip. “My world is riding on a pregnancy, so I can’t help but be pragmatic.”

  “I know your approach to sex, Liam,” Charity said, her smile brighter than before as she dropped her voice an octave. “And there is certainly nothing pragmatic about it. Have fun, play doctor to her naughty nurse. I think I might have a couple of costumes the two of you could borrow.”

  With a wink she left Liam to his thoughts. He had a few strings to pull with the home healthcare company Abigail worked for. The hospital that LoneStar Healthcare was affiliated with happened to be the same hospital Liam made yearly sizeable contributions to. A dropped word or two would suffice in getting Abigail free for the week. He’d even bump up his contribution this year to make sure Abigail didn’t get reprimanded for the short notice. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her trouble. She was a good nurse, at least judging by the care she showed to his mother.

  Abigail’s sweet country girl face filled his mind, as well as her lithe little body hidden beneath her shapeless scrubs—the only thing he’d ever seen her in. Her nicely defined arms showing from her short sleeves left him curious how she worked out.

  Liam ran his hand over his jaw as anticipation for the following week filled him. Naughty nurse? He couldn’t help but imagine her in the costume. A short white dress, leaving him with easy access to what he wanted, which was her pussy. Wet and ready for him to take with his mouth and cock.

  How would she respond to him? Hesitant? Eager? What he craved was a hedonist; someone who wouldn’t be shy with her body. Someone who’d seek pleasure in everything they did.

  He growled, the mental image growing vivid in his mind’s eye. He’d gone too long without sex, he reasoned, as he adjusted his hard-on. And now that he knew he had Abigail’s agreement, he had a worry lifted, which added to his arousal. Regardless the reasons, his dick throbbed, and he only had one option with which to deal with it.

  He punched a button on his phone.

  “Hold my calls for fifteen minutes,” he said when his receptionist responded.

  “Yes, Mr. Whitmore.”

  He strode into his apartment’s bathroom, unzipped his fly, and pulled out his cock. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d jerked off. He knew some single men his age made it a daily habit, but compulsively masturbating wasn’t a road he wanted to take. The loss of such discipline would quickly carry over into other areas of his life, including his work.

  He squirted hand lotion in his palm, grabbed a box of tissue, took his cock in his fist, and pumped it hard and fast. It didn’t take long for his balls to grow tight, especially with the coming week promising sex. When was the last time he’d devoted to an entire week to sex? A couple of vacations perhaps, but those times had involved a lot of socializing as well. This time, if at all possible, the week would be spent buried balls deep inside the sweet little nurse.

  The orgasm hit and he sucked in a breath, the experience more intense than he’d expected. He cleaned up, washed his hands, and returned to his office, feeling more relaxed than he had in days. He needed to get as much grunt work finished as possible before leaving for Aspen. It’d be necessary to telecommute from the cabin, but he wanted the most pressing issues handled.

  His phone beeped. “Mr. Whitmore, Richard Bona is on the line.”

  Liam scowled, his relaxation evaporating in the span of one sentence. He jabbed speaker phone. “Mr. Bona, how can I help you?”

  “Mr. Whitmore, I’m curi
ous if you gave my offer any more thought?”

  “I can’t say that I did,” Liam answered, keeping his voice unaffected by his irritation.

  Richard laughed, the obnoxious sound buffeting Liam’s eardrums. “I took you for a more sensible man than that. I’m not sure why you’re not giving such a generous offer serious consideration.”

  “Because this is my company. It’s that simple. Spencer may jump at whatever sum you’ve held over his head, but I won’t.”

  “Bah, I don’t believe it, Liam. Every man has his price.”

  “That’s where we differ in opinion, Rick.”

  There was a pause.

  “Think anything might change your mind about that?”

  Liam ground his teeth, there seemed to be an undercurrent to his question. Richard couldn’t know what had happened during his father’s will reading, but suspicion still clouded the room. Unless…

  “Not a thing,” Liam replied, keeping his voice neutral.

  “Shame. Real shame. Well, can’t blame me for tryin’. My condolences for losing your old man.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  The call disconnected. Liam drummed his fingers on the desktop and stared at his computer screen. He rolled the conversation over in his mind, examining it from different angles. Unless he had a mole in his office, Richard Bona and Martin Kay would be in the dark about the threat of losing Whitmore to Spencer. Would his cousin have shared the situation with the two men? Liam wouldn’t doubt it.

  KayBona Enterprises was on a fast track, swallowing up every large company in its path. What stood between it and being the biggest and one of the wealthiest corporations in the United States was Whitmore Incorporated. They were in a race, often competing for the same companies. More often than not Liam outbid and outmaneuvered Richard and his business partner Martin Kay. Until recently, that is, when they’d held the upper hand in several offers. Assimilating Whitmore would be the ultimate notch on their bedpost and certain death to all other competition.