Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire (6 page)

She didn't want him to date anyone at all.

Which was ludicrous—she had no claim on the man and hadn't she decided they needed some distance? God, maybe she was the source of her own exhaustion. Donating to the charity auction had not been one of her smarter ideas. Sure, it was a good cause, but following up her one-night stand with finding her said ONS someone else to have a one-night stand with left a sour taste in her mouth.

Brodie silently urged her great-aunt to hurry up. Poppy had the energy and enthusiasm of a ten-year-old with a tendency to talk to everyone she encountered. Brodie wondered how long Poppy would be staying in town before the travel bug bit again. She'd visited more countries in three years than most people did in a lifetime and Brodie couldn't help but admire her great-aunt's sense of adventure. It took courage to travel on her own and to make friends along the way.

Just hurry yourself up, Poppy. I really am feeling, well, like hell. And the sooner we get out of here, the happier I'll be.

A cramping stomach accompanied Brodie's nausea. She clenched her jaw and clutched her stomach, frantically thinking about what she had recently eaten that could have given her food poisoning. Cornflakes? Last night's boiled egg?

Brodie took a series of deep breaths, sucked on some more water and felt the nausea recede. When she opened her eyes again she saw Poppy, one hand on her travel case and the other on her hip, a speculative look on her face.

Brodie managed a wan smile. “Hey, you're here. That was quick.” She kissed Poppy's cheek and gave her a long hug. “How was Bali?”

“Loved it,” Poppy replied. “I was considering staying another month but then I was invited to join a cruise to Alaska leaving in the next month.”

“You're leaving again?”

Poppy dropped into a recently vacated empty seat. “You look dreadful. Are you sick?”

“Yeah, so nauseous. I must've eaten something bad last night.

Poppy grinned. “Unless you've discovered sex in the last six weeks and someone has dropped a bun in your oven. But that's not likely since you have the world's most boring sex life.”

Brodie stared at her great-aunt while Poppy's words sank in.

No, no... God,
no
!

“I'm not pregnant.” Brodie ground out the words, pushing back her hair. She wasn't even going to consider such a ridiculous scenario. She was on the pill! Brodie scrabbled in her bag for another bottle of water and after trying to open it with a shaking hand, passed it over to Poppy for help twisting off the cap. Brodie felt her body ice up with every drop she swallowed.

“Pregnancy would explain how you are feeling and is a result of sex. So, have you had any lately?”

Admitting to sex made the possibility of her being pregnant terribly real. “One time, weeks ago. The condom split.”

“Ah, that would explain it.”

“It explains nothing! I'm on the pill!”

“Even the pill can fail sometimes.”

Brodie lowered the bottle and started to shake. Could she possibly be pregnant with Kade's baby?

From a universe far away Brodie felt Poppy's hand on her back. “Come on, Mata Hari, let's find you a pregnancy test and you can tell me who, what, where and when.”

* * *

Three pregnancy tests could not be wrong. Unfortunately.

It had taken a week of Poppy's nagging for Brodie to find her courage to do a pregnancy test and now she desperately wished she hadn't.

Brodie stared at the three sticks lined up on the edge of her bathroom counter and hoped her Jedi mind trick would turn the positive signs to negative. After five minutes her brain felt like it was about to explode so she sat down on the toilet seat and placed her head in her hands.

She was pregnant. Tears ran down her face as she admitted that Poppy had called it—the girl who had the sex life of a nun was pregnant because Kade Webb carried around a faulty condom.

Jerk. Dipstick. Moron.

Brodie bit her lip. What was the moron/jerk/dipstick doing tonight? It was Saturday. He might be on a date with one of her suggestions for his first date. Which one? The redhead with the engineering degree? The blonde teacher? The Brazilian doctor? Brodie pulled her hair. If she thought about Kade dating, she'd go crazy.

Maybe, instead of feeling jealous of those women, it would be sensible to consider the much bigger problem growing inside her. The exploding bundle of cells that would, in a couple of weeks, become a fetus and then a little human, a perfect mixture of Kade and her.

She wasn't ready to be a mommy. Hell, she wasn't ready—possibly wouldn't ever be ready—for a relationship. And motherhood was the biggest relationship of them all. It never ended. Until death...

Brodie felt the room spin and knew she was close to panicking. She couldn't be responsible for another life. She couldn't even emotionally connect to anyone else. How would she raise a well-balanced, well-adjusted kid with all her trust and loss and abandonment issues?

How could she raise a kid at all? She couldn't do this. She didn't have to do this. It was the twenty-first century and if she wanted, she could un-pregnant herself. Her life could go back to what it was before... She could be back in control. She wouldn't have to confront Kade. She wouldn't have to change her life. By tomorrow, or the day after, she'd be back to normal.

Brodie stood up and looked at her pale face in the mirror. Back to normal. She wanted normal... Didn't she? She wanted smooth, unemotional, uncluttered. She wasn't the type who wanted to sail her ship through stormy seas. She'd experienced the tempests and vagaries and sheer brutality of life and she didn't want to be on another rocking boat.

Right. Sorted. She had a plan. So why wasn't she feeling at peace with the decision? Why did she feel at odds with herself and the universe?

“You can't hide in there forever.” Poppy's voice drifted under the door. Brodie reached over and flipped the lock. Within ten seconds Poppy's keen eyes saw the tests and the results. Poppy, being Poppy, just raised her eyebrows. “What are you going to do?”

Brodie lifted her shoulders and let them hover somewhere around her ears. It would help to talk this through with someone and since Poppy was here Brodie figured she was a good candidate. “I'm thinking about—” she couldn't articulate the process,“—becoming un-pregnant.”

If she couldn't
say
it, how was she going to
do
it?

Poppy, unmarried by choice, didn't react to that statement. “That's one option,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, her bright blue eyes shrewd.

“Raising a child by myself is not much of an option,” Brodie snapped.

“Depends on your point of view,” Poppy replied, her voice easy. “Your parents thought you were the best thing to hit this planet and they had you in far more difficult circumstances than you are in now.”

Brodie frowned. “I'll be a single mother, Poppy. My parents were together.”

“They were married, yes, but your father was in the army, stationed overseas. Your mom was alone for six, eight months at a time and she coped. Money was tight for them.” Poppy looked at Brodie's designer jeans and pointed to her expensive toiletries. “Money is not an object for you. You are your own boss and you can juggle your time. You could take your child to work or you could start working more from home. This is not the disaster you think it is.”

Brodie tried to find an argument to counter Poppy's, but she came up blank. Before she could speak, Poppy continued. “Your parents were practically broke and always apart and yet they never once regretted having you. They were so excited when you came along.”

Brodie's mom had loved kids and had wanted a houseful but, because she'd had complications while she was pregnant with Brodie, she'd had to forgo that dream. “I can't wait until you have kids,” she'd tell Brodie. “I hope you have lots and I'll help you look after them.”

Except you are not here when I need you most. You won't be here to help and I'll have to do it...alone.

Poppy wouldn't give up her traveling to become a nanny. Besides, knowing Poppy, she'd probably leave the baby at the supermarket or something.

“What about the man who impregnated you?”

“You make me sound like a broodmare, Pops,” Brodie complained, pushing her hand into her hair. She looked around and noticed they were having this life-changing discussion in her too-small bathroom. “And why are we talking in here?”

“Because I'm standing in the doorway and you can't run away when the topic gets heated.”

“I don't run away!” Brodie protested. Though, in her heart, she knew she did.

Poppy rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. “So, about the father.”

“What about him?” Brodie demanded.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Brodie groaned. “I don't know what the hell I am going to do, Poppy!”

Poppy crossed one ankle over the other and Brodie saw she'd acquired a new tattoo in Bali, this one on her wrist. “I think you should talk to him. The decision lies with you but he was there. He helped create the situation and he has a right to be part of the solution.”

“He doesn't have to know, either way.”

“Legally? No. Morally? You sure?” Poppy asked.

Brodie tipped her head up to look at the ceiling. “I was at the point of making a decision,” Brodie complained. “Thank you for complicating the situation for me, Great-aunt.”

“Someone needs to,” Poppy muttered, looking exasperated. She pointed a long finger at Brodie's face. “Your problem is that since your parents and friends died, you always take the easy route, Brodie.”

“I do not!”

“Pfft. Of course you do! Not having this baby is the easy way. Not telling the father is the easy way. Living in this house and burying yourself in your work—finding other people love but not yourself!—is taking the easy route. You need to be braver!”

“I survived a multicar pileup that wiped out my parents and best friends!” Brodie shouted.

“But it didn't kill
you
!” Poppy responded, her voice rising, too. “You are so damn scared to risk being hurt that you don't live! You satisfy your need for love by setting up other people. You keep busy to stop yourself from feeling lonely, and you don't do anything exciting or fun. Do you know how thrilled I am to find out that you've had a one-night stand? I think it's brilliant because someone finally jolted you out of your safety bubble. And, dammit, I hope you are brave enough to talk to the father, to have this kid, because I think it will be the making of you.”

Through Brodie's shock and anger she saw Poppy blink back tears. Poppy was the strongest person she knew and not given to showing emotion. “I want you to be brave, Brodie. I want you to start living.”

Brodie felt her anger fade. “I don't know how,” she whispered. “I've forgotten.”

Poppy walked toward her and pulled her to her slight frame. “You start by taking one step at a time, my darling. Go talk to the father...” Poppy pulled back to frown at Brodie. “Who is the father?”

“Kade Webb.”

“My baby has taste.” Poppy grinned. “Well, at the risk of sounding shallow, at the very least the baby will be one good-looking little human.” Poppy grabbed Brodie's hand and pulled her from the bathroom. “Now come and tell me how you met and, crucially, how you ended up in bed.”

Six

D
ate one of three and he was officially off the publicity wagon until he had to do this again next month.

Well, he would be done as soon as she left his apartment. He wouldn't offer her any more wine, Kade decided. He wasn't going to extend the date any longer than he absolutely had to. He'd wanted to have supper at a restaurant but Wren had insisted he cook Rachel dinner in his expansive loft apartment. Cooking her dinner would show the public his caring, domestic side.

The public, thanks to the photographers who'd hovered around, would also see his residence in downtown Vancouver and Simon, his mutt. Kade stroked his hand over Si's head, which lay heavy on his thigh. Simon, whom he'd found in an alley on one of his early-morning runs, considered Kade his personal property and any woman would have to fight his dog for a place in his life.

Kade stifled his sigh and resisted the urge to look at his watch. When he'd received the portfolios of his potential dates from Brodie, he'd flipped through the three candidates and opted to eat with the doctor. Then he'd contacted Wren and instructed her to arrange his first date for as soon as possible. Breakfast, lunch and supper...whenever, she just had to get it done. Wren, efficient as always, had done exactly that. One down, two to go.

“And then I spent three months working in the Sudan with Médecins Sans Frontières.”

His buzzer signaled someone was downstairs wanting to come up. Kade smiled at his guest, hoping Wren had read his mind and come to rescue him.

You're a big boy
, he heard Wren's amused voice in his head.
If you can talk them into bed, then you sure as hell don't need my help to talk them out of your apartment
.

Or maybe it was Quinn downstairs. The doctor was his type—brainy and built. Quinn would, if Kade asked him, take Rachel off his hands. Kade stood up and walked across the open space to his front door and intercom. He pressed the button, called out a greeting and shrugged when no one answered.

It had to be Mac or Quinn. They both usually hit the buzzer to signal they were on their way up.

Kade turned to walk back to his guest. It was definitely time to maneuver her out the door. Please let Quinn be thundering up the steps, he thought.
Please
.

A tentative knock told him it wasn't Quinn, or Mac, and Kade frowned. Who else would be visiting him at 9:45 p.m. on a Saturday night? Then again, whoever it was would be a distraction and he'd take what he could get.

Sending a fake smile of apology in Rachel's direction, he walked back to the door and opened it. As per usual when he saw Brodie, his mouth dried up and his heart flipped once, then twice.

What was it about this woman that turned his brain to mush? If he compared her to Rachel, Brodie came up short. She was wearing ratty jeans and a tight T-shirt in pale gray, a perfect match to her complexion. Pale gray tinged with green. Her eyes were a flat, dark, mossy green and accessorized by huge black rings. Her hair was raked off her face and she looked like a spring ready to explode.

“We need to talk... Can I come in?”

Kade tossed a look over his shoulder and sighed when he saw Rachel walking in their direction, a puzzled look on her face. “Hi, there.” Rachel appeared at his shoulder and he watched Brodie's eyes widen as she gave the buxom doctor a good up-and-down look.

“Doctor Martinez.” Brodie's voice cooled.

Brodie stepped to the side and looked across his apartment to the small dining table at the far end of the room. Kade sighed. Fat candles, muted light, wineglasses, her heels next to her chair. It looked like everything it really wasn't, a romantic dinner for two.

Kade heard the click of Si's nails against the wooden floor and waited for the dog to take his customary place at Kade's side. Si, to Kade's surprise, walked straight past him and up to Brodie. Kade waited for the growl and cocked his head when Simon nuzzled his snout into Brodie's hand. Brodie immediately, and instinctively, dropped to her haunches and rubbed her hands over Si's ears and down his neck.

Delight flickered in her tired eyes. “Oh, he's gorgeous, Kade. I didn't know you had a dog.”

“We haven't exactly had a lot of time to talk,” Kade pointed out and Brodie flushed. “Meet Simon, part Alsatian, part malamute, all sappy. I've had him about two months.”

“He's a lovely dog,” Rachel said, her tone bright and chirpy. Oh, hell, he'd forgotten she was there.

Kade watched as Brodie stood up slowly, a blush creeping up her neck. Kade could see she was ready to bolt. He wanted to hustle Rachel out, pull Brodie in, pick her up and cradle her in his arms and find out, in between kisses, what was making her so very miserable.

Because she was—he knew it like his own name.

Brodie darted a look at Rachel and he saw her suck in a breath. He watched how she added two and two and somehow ended up with sixty-five.

Brodie lifted her hands and stepped back. “I am being inexcusably rude, I'm so sorry.” She gave them a smile as fake as this date.

“But you said you needed to talk,” Kade reminded her. “I'm sure Rachel will excuse us.”

“Please... It's really not important,” Brodie insisted and jammed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “I'm so sorry to have disturbed your evening. Good night.”

“Brodie.” Kade didn't want her to leave.

“Good night!” Rachel called, turning and walking back to the table. He watched, irritated, as she picked up his full glass of wine to take a healthy sip. She cradled the glass between her ample breasts and sent him a speculative look.

Kade stopped by the coatrack and pulled her bag and jacket from a hook and held them out to her.

Rachel put down her wine and cocked her head. A small, regretful smile tilted her wide mouth upward.

“Well, that sucks,” she cheerfully stated, suddenly looking a lot warmer. Kade scratched his forehead in confusion. But before he could ask for an explanation, Rachel spoke again. “Want to tell me why you are doing the dating thing when you are completely besotted with your matchmaker?”

“I am not besotted with her!” Kade responded, thoroughly disconcerted by the observation.

“Well, something is happening between you two.” Rachel slipped into her shoes, then walked over to him and took her jacket and purse from his hands. “Pity, because I rather like you.”

Kade rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Look, I enjoyed our evening...”

Rachel laughed. “Oh, you big, fat liar! I've never worked so hard in all my life to impress someone and most men are easily impressed!”

He had to smile and was so damn thankful he wasn't dealing with the drama queen he'd expected her to be. “I'm so sorry. I'm really not besotted with her but it
is
complicated. And these dates are...” Could he trust her not to spill the beans?

“A publicity stunt?” Rachel had guessed before he could say more. “I figured that out as soon as I saw the look on your face when you opened the door. Don't worry, I won't say anything.”

Kade let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you.” He bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I really appreciate it. I'll take you home.”

Rachel patted his biceps. “I'll call a cab and you can go and find your girl so that you can sort out your complications.”

Kade watched her walk out of his loft, resisting the urge to deny there was anything between him and Brodie besides some great sex and a couple of laughs. There was nothing to sort out, nothing to worry about. If that was the case, then he shouldn't be desperate to find out exactly what it was Brodie wanted to say.

He was just curious, he told himself. It didn't mean he had feelings for her. He wasn't besotted with her.

Besotted? What a ridiculous word! He wasn't... He couldn't be. He didn't
do
besotted. But he would admit to being curious, that wasn't a crime.

* * *

Brodie left the rain forest and the Willowbrae Trail and walked onto one of the vast, sandy beaches characterizing this part of the west coast of Vancouver Island. She stared at the huge waves rolling in from Japan and slipped out of her sneakers, digging her toes into the cool sand.

This place—Poppy's cabin—with its magnificent sea views, was her hideout, the place she ran to every time her life fell apart. She and her family had spent many holidays here, in winter and summer and the seasons in between. This was where she felt closest to them. After the accident, she'd spent six weeks up here, to recuperate. Her body healed quickly but her heart never had.

Despite the memories, she still wanted to run up here when life threw her curveballs. Here, if she didn't think too much, her soul felt occasionally satisfied. This was her special place, her thinking place.

Two days had passed since she'd left Vancouver and she'd spent all that time thinking of Kade, and trying
not
to obsess about what happened between him and Doctor Delicious after Brodie left.

The thought of him and another woman so soon—was six weeks soon?

And she still had to tell him about the pregnancy. Brodie placed her hands on her stomach and sucked in a breath. She also needed to tell him she intended to keep this child, to raise it on her own.

Poppy was right. Keeping the baby would take courage and sacrifice and...well, balls. Brodie also knew her parents would have wanted her to keep the child, to care for the next generation of Stewarts as they'd planned to do.

So she'd decided to be a mommy. She needed to tell Kade he was going to be a daddy. There was no rush, Brodie thought, as she picked up a piece of driftwood and tossed it toward a bubbling wave. She had eight or so months.

Or, hell, maybe not.

Brodie recognized his stride first, long and loose. His blond hair and most of his face was covered by a black cap. Simon, Kade's huge, sloppy mutt, galloped between him and the waves, barking with joy. Then Simon recognized her and let out a yelp of elated welcome. Brodie was glad that he, at least, looked happy to see her.

Kade did not. He stopped in front of her, tipped back the rim of his cap and scowled. “Sixteen missed calls. Six messages, Stewart. Seriously?”

“I needed some time alone,” Brodie replied, rubbing Simon's ears. She looked up into Kade's frustrated eyes. “Why are you here?”

The wind blew Kade's cotton shirt up and revealed the ridges of his stomach. Brodie had to stop herself from whimpering. “I'm here because you came to my loft, looking like hell on wheels, saying we needed to talk. I've spent the last two days looking for you.”

Brodie picked up a small stick and threw it for Simon, who ran straight past it into a wave. “I suppose Poppy told you where I was.”

“When I managed to find her,” Kade muttered.

Brodie frowned. “She's not difficult to find. She lives below me.”

“Not for the last two nights. She finally came home, on a Harley, with a guy who was at least fifteen years younger than her.”

Brodie grinned. “Good for Poppy.” At least one of them was having fun.

Brodie felt her throat tighten. She had to tell him, now.

“Kade...” Brodie met his eyes, dug deep and found a little bit of courage. “The night we were together... Do you remember how we brushed off the issue of the split condom?”

Kade frowned and his face darkened. She didn't need to say any more, she could see he'd immediately connected the dots. “You're...?” He rubbed his hands over his face.

“Pregnant,” Brodie confirmed.

“But you said you were on the pill,” Kade stuttered and the color drained from his face.

“I was on the pill, but apparently it fails sometimes.”

Kade linked his hands behind his head. He looked shaken and, understandably, mad as hell. Brodie couldn't blame him; she'd experienced those emotions herself.

“Might I remind you,” she added, “the condom
you brought
was faulty.”

“So you're saying this is my fault?” Kade shouted, dropping his hands. Simon whined and Kade patted his head to reassure him everything was okay. Brodie wished he'd reassure her, too.

Brodie made an effort to hold on to her own slipping temper. “I'm not blaming you, I'm explaining what happened.”

Kade dropped a couple of F-bombs. “I'm not ready to be a father. I don't want to be a father!”

“Being a mother wasn't in my five-year plan, either, Webb.”

Kade folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. “You don't seem particularly upset about this.”

Where was he the last couple of nights when she'd cried herself to sleep? The same nights she'd paced the floor? “I'm pregnant and it's not something that's going away. I have to deal with it. You, however, do not.”

“What the
hell
do you mean?”

Brodie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged. “If you want I'll sign a release absolving you of all responsibility for this child.”

Kade stared down at the sand and Brodie noticed his hands, in the pockets of his khakis shorts, were now fists. He was hanging on to his temper by a thread. “Is that my only option?”

“What else do you want? You just said you don't want to be this baby's father. Have you changed your mind? That would mean paying child support and sorting out custody arrangements. Is that what you want?”

“For crap's sake, I don't know! I'm still trying to deal with the idea you're saying you're pregnant!” Kade yelled.

“I'm
saying
I am pregnant?” Brodie frowned. Did he think she was making this up for kicks and giggles? “Do you doubt me?” she asked, her voice low and bitter.

“We slept together several weeks ago, how can you be sure?” Kade retorted. “Have you done a blood test? How can I be sure you're not jerking my chain?”