Her Indecent Proposal (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection) (15 page)

She didn’t mention her other stress, the one taking place at home. 
Her relationship with Sloane had been a little strained and, she had to admit,
it was mostly her fault.  Even though it might make sense to no-one but
herself, she was racked with guilt.  She couldn’t help it.  There were a few
times as they lay in bed when Sloane had wondered out loud what it would like
to be a dad.  Most times his comments were in response to something she’d said
about having a baby, but each time his face had taken on a dreamy look and she
knew he was looking forward to a family just like she was.

And so far she hadn’t been able to give it to him.

So now, as she sat in the doctor’s office, she began to count the
hours until they called and told her she could fly to the clinic in Boston to
get specialist help.

Because if this barren spell went on for very much longer there was
the frightening possibility that Sloane would want out. 

***

It took a week before Melanie heard from Doctor Sutherland’s office
regarding the fertility clinic they’d found for her and another week before she
built up the courage to tell Sloane what she was doing.

“Why don’t you give it some time?” he asked.  “We haven’t even been
married a year.”

“Don’t you see?  I don’t have time.  I’m thirty-four years old.”

“Which is not old,” he said drily.

“For a woman who hopes to have kids, it is.”  She threw up her hands
in frustration.  Why didn’t men get this?  Just because they could get kids at
the ripe old age of seventy it was like they couldn’t understand a woman’s
sense of urgency.  Jeez.  “I have to do this, Sloane.  It might be my only
hope.” 

"If you think it’s necessary I won’t stop you,” he said, “but I
don’t want you to feel pressured.  I’m happy to wait and see what happens.”

He said the words but she didn’t believe him.  She refused to
believe him.  She knew he wanted this as badly as she did.

And so, early the following Monday she left for Boston to meet with
a consultant to discuss her case.  Sloane had offered to accompany her but
she’d refused his offer.  There were some battles that she just had to fight on
her own.

At the clinic they discussed her options then ran a series of
routine tests – blood, urine, cervical smears – then gave her an appointment
for the following week to do more intensive checks.  It was a week after that
second round of tests that she found out – to her dismay – that she had an
endometrial growth that might prevent her from ever getting pregnant.

Her heart crashed against the rocks of despair.  Was she never to
get her deepest wish?  And how could she tell Sloane?

Melanie told Sloane that same night when she got home but it was
hard.  It was hard when she saw the disappointment flit across his face but it
was even harder when he put his arm around her and told her it was okay.

He was faking it.  He had to be.  He was just as devastated as she
was.

But she had one last card up her sleeve. Her final option for
getting pregnant.  “I want to try artificial insemination,” she told him. 
“Whatever it takes, I want to have your baby.”

Instead of jumping at her idea, he looked at her calmly and spoke in
a quiet voice.  “I know you’re stressed out right now, Mel, but let’s not jump
to a decision just yet.  We have time-”

“No, we don't.”  She pulled out of his arms and glared up at him. 
“Don’t you see I’m getting older by the minute? Can’t you see it’s almost too
late?”  Her voice rose with each word, till she was almost shrieking.  “We
can’t wait.  We have to move now.”  She ended on a hiccup and the tears began
to flow and when he pulled her back into his arms she clung to him like she
needed his strength or else she would fall.

“Hush.  It’s okay, honey,” he soothed as he stroked her back. 
“We’ll do it and it will be okay.  You can let it all out.  It’s okay.”

And Melanie could not speak.  She could only cry, clinging to her
husband as the sobs racked her body.

Because she knew if this didn’t work, it would all be over.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Melanie, happy birthday
to you.”

Melanie’s heart was in her throat as she walked into her office
suite and saw a host her employees – from her executive assistant to her
managers to the intern who had joined at the beginning of summer – gathered
there, wide smiles on their faces.

She almost cried.  They’d gone to the trouble of throwing her a
surprise birthday party and it had been exactly that – a huge surprise.

Tamara had called her immediately after her site tour of her brand
new studio to tell her that she was needed back in office right away.  It was
an emergency, she’d said, but it was so confidential that she couldn’t discuss
it on the phone.  Heart thumping, wondering what could be so urgent and so
private, Melanie hurried back as instructed and headed straight to her office. 
Now that she thought back, the place had seemed deserted as she rushed through
but she’d been too preoccupied to worry about it.

And now she knew why.  The schemers.

She sniffed as she smiled back at them, her heart filled with
gratitude that they cared enough to make all this effort.  And she sniffed,
too, because she was suddenly overcome with another emotion, the bitter
disappointment of knowing that she’d hit this major milestone with no bambino
in sight.

“How old are you now?” they began to sing, and she raised her hand.

“Now that, I’m not going to reveal,” she said with a laugh.  “Now
excuse me while I wring Tamara's neck for scaring me half to death.  I thought
the place was on fire.”  She walked over and hugged her assistant then she went
around and greeted each of her well-wishers individually, teasing them with
threats of more assignments as payback for having deceived her.

All in all, it was a fun and happy get-together…at least for them. 
They’d each brought food from home so there was an impressive array of dishes –
barbecued chicken, beef stir fry, cornbread, coleslaw, potato salad and
macaroni and cheese pie.  Everything was delicious.  When it was time for
dessert they wheeled in a tray on which sat a huge slab cake.  It read, “Happy
thirty-fifth, boss!”

So they’d known all along.  And the number staring up at her was
like a knife to the heart – for her, the dreaded start of her middle years and
the beginning of the end, where babies were concerned.  But she was in the
company of her employees so, depressed or not, she had to play cheerful.

She was the one who squealed loudest when they blindfolded her and
had her smack a piñata and when the celebrations ended an hour later she was
still smiling as they all filed out and headed back to their own offices and
workstations.

It was only then that Melanie gave in to her true feelings.  Feeling
drained, she slumped into her chair and dropped her chin on her palm. 

It was her thirty-fifth birthday, she would be celebrating her first
wedding anniversary in one week, and all she wanted to do was bawl. 

***

“Melanie, are you okay, honey?” Sloane’s voice echoed through the
phone line but his concern was very clear.  “I tried calling you earlier but my
calls didn’t go through.  How was your birthday?”

‘Was’ was right.  It was almost nine o’clock at night so the
birthday was almost gone.  Only three hours left for it to be part of her
past.  “It was all right,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing
miserably.

“Did you get the flowers I sent you?”

“I did.  They’re…beautiful.”  That part was the truth.  They’d
arrived at her office early that morning and she’d taken them home with her. 
She was staring at them right now as they sat on top of the chest of drawers, a
kaleidoscope of startlingly brilliant colors against the almond-white of the
room.  “Thank you.”

“I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you but there was
no way I could miss this conference.”  His tone was apologetic.  “I’m the
keynote speaker.”

“I know and I wouldn’t have you miss it just to be here on my
birthday.  There’ll be other birthdays.”  She meant what she said.  To be
totally honest, she was glad Sloane wasn’t at home to see her mope.  His
presence would have been an additional strain on her because, even now, she
would have to be faking cheerfulness so he wouldn’t feel bad for her.  Being
alone, at least she could sulk in peace.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.  “As soon as I get back we’ll
plan a getaway.  Do you want to do the Caribbean again?  We could try St.
Kitts.  I hear the  diving's great in Basseterre.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.  We can talk about it when you get back.” 
That didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic as she’d hoped but, depressed as she
was, it was the best she could do.

There was a pause on the phone line and when Sloane finally spoke
his voice sounded strained.  “Melanie, are you sure you’re all right?  You
don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, forcing into her tone as much
liveliness as she could muster.  “I’m just tired, that’s all.  It’s been a long
day.”  She gave a satisfied sigh.  It was fake, of course, and only for
Sloane’s benefit.  “So how’s London, anyway?  Did you get a chance to check out
the city?”

“London is London,” he said drily.  “It's like my second home.  Wonderful
city, but after you’ve been here a few dozen times you basically know the place
so well you stop getting excited .  I'm more like an expat than a visitor.  Quite
a bit of rain here, though, and kind of chilly for August."

“Aaw, that’s too bad,” she sympathized.  “When you get back I
promise I’ll warm you up real good.  In fact,” she said, letting a naughty
inflection slip into her voice, “just think about me and you in a variety of
brand new positions.  That should warm you up while you’re standing in front of
your audience.”

That made him laugh.  “Bad girl.  Now that you’ve planted the
picture in my mind you know I won’t be able to think of anything else.”

“That’s the whole idea.”  This time she was laughing along with him
and her mirth was real.

Sadly, by the time Sloane hung up and she’d lain back down among the
pillows, the sadness returned.  Within minutes silent tears were sliding down
her cheeks.  She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.  She just lay there,
staring through the tears at the now blurry ball of color on top of the chest
of drawers.

But when the horrible lump in her throat climbed up and up until she
could no longer hold it in she turned her face into the pillows, clutched them
to her, and sobbed out her grief and pain.

Nothing had worked.  Not sex, not the vitamins and stress pills the
doctor had prescribed, not the artificial insemination.  She'd done
intrauterine insemination, twice, with zero success.  Now she felt like there
was no more hope.

And on top of her despair was the overwhelming feeling of guilt. 
She’d promised Sloane a baby, demanded it of him, and he’d put his trust in her
and married her.  And she’d failed.

It just wasn’t fair.  She’d wanted this so bad and worked so hard,
to no avail.  But mostly, she came to realize, it wasn’t fair to Sloane.

Under these circumstances there was only one thing to do.  She was
going to give Sloane a chance at life, a chance to find someone who could give
him the family he deserved.

Before Sloane got back from London, she was going to leave.

CHAPTER 19

“Honey, I’m home.”  Sloane had a smile on his face as he flicked on
the light in the foyer and dumped his suitcase and briefcase on the floor.  The
flight from London had been long and dreary – that, after a delay of over two
hours due to bad weather – but he was finally home.

“Melanie, where are you?” he called out as he headed for the
stairs.  It was late but not that late.  He hadn’t expected her to be in bed
before ten.  Then again, she’d probably had a long day at the office and
decided to turn in early.  When he’d called earlier that day she’d sounded
distant, almost as if she didn’t have time to talk.  He hadn’t pressed, knowing
he’d probably caught her in the middle of a business meeting but now that he
was home he was eager to see her, hold her, make mad love to her.

And he had every intention of holding her to her promise.  Making
love in all kinds of new and crazy positions?  As tired as he was, he was still
willing and ready to try them all.

He bounded up the stairs then strode toward the master bedroom.  The
door was slightly ajar and he could see that there was no light inside. 
Strange.  Melanie usually left the bedside lamp on until he got home.

Gently, he opened the door wider and was on his way toward the bed
when what he saw in the shadowy room made him freeze.  The bed was still made
up and there was no-one in it.

Where the hell was Melanie?

Immediately, he turned and walked back to the door where he flicked
on the light.  And that was when he saw the plain white sheet of paper lying in
the middle of the bed.