Teddy Bear Heir (14 page)

Now that same body looked riper, fuller and so much more desirable. It took exquisite control on his part to ensure she didn't know how much he wanted her.

He walked up the cement steps, out of the shallow end of the pool, then lay down on one of the chaise lounges with his face against his folded arms. The sun felt warm on his back. He kept his face hidden, sensing Michaela might need some privacy when she came out of the pool.

He guessed right. She waited about ten minutes and must have assumed he'd fallen asleep. He heard her step out of the pool, tentatively, like a deer entering an open meadow by the woods. Then he heard her lie down on one of the chaises across from him.

He lay very still, wondering what to do. When he finally raised his head and glanced at her, the sight brought a smile to his lips.

She was fast asleep, her face against one of the outdoor pillows. Stretched out on the chaise lounge, in full sunlight, there was a good chance she'd sunburn.

Not wanting that to happen, and wanting to touch her so very badly, Cameron slowly sat up, then stood and walked over to her lounge chair.

Asleep, she looked so much more vulnerable. And he wondered what might've happened if she'd simply stayed in his hotel bedroom, spent the night. Let him draw back the heavy drapes in the morning, flood the room with light and see her face.

There was an outdoor mattress in the shade of several palm trees on the far side of the pool. Gently, so as not to awaken her, Cameron lifted Michaela in his arms and carried her to the mattress. He lowered her gently on to the mattress so she remained asleep the entire time.

He covered her body with a large beach towel and stood looking down at her.

Cameron knew that, had he found her that morning at the Four Seasons, he would've never let her out of his life. Had she not been able to have children, he wouldn't have given a damn. Had Teddy's Toys gone to the Foundation for Play, he wouldn't have cared.

He'd loved her from the beginning.

He remembered the first day he'd seen her. She'd been rushing into the main office, hair flying, eyes sparkling, a determined look on her face. She'd been on her way into Julian's office with a contract and he'd wondered who she was.

Julian had called him in. Cameron had been fascinated and intrigued by the way she'd expertly taken the finer points of the contract apart, by her skill and poise and the immense amount of knowledge of the law she'd possessed.

He'd been even more fascinated by the way she looked and by the thoughts he'd had about getting her into his bed. He'd known there was chemistry between them but nothing had prepared him for that one glorious night.

Now, looking back, he was sure Julian had seen that attraction, that mutual fascination. The old man had known. It had probably been the impetus behind his ultimatum.

Until Michaela's infertility had thrown a wrench into the works.

Until she'd had the courage to confront, head-on, what neither of them had had the courage to face until that night four months ago.

I wanted you,
she’d said.

I wanted you.

He was down on his knees on the mattress before he even knew what he was contemplating. He was lifting the towel and sliding beneath it, moving toward her, fitting his body against hers. And not even trying to control the start of an arousal that was painful in its intensity.

She turned in her sleep and snuggled against him, trusting and secure. Her head fit against his shoulder and he liked the way she felt against him, so soft and warm and smooth.

I wanted you.

He shifted slightly and kissed her on her forehead.

"I wanted you, too," he whispered. "And I'm going to have you."

Then he settled back, their bodies touching their entire length, and waited for her to wake from her dream.

* * *

She woke up to the realization that she was plastered against him, snuggled up in the most intimate fashion. Anyone coming upon the two of them would've thought they'd been lovers for months instead of just one night.

Opening her eyes, she saw that he was looking down at her. She'd been lying with her head on his shoulder. Now their faces were barely inches apart.

"Good nap?" he asked softly.

She nodded her head.

Michaela wondered what they were going to do. Obviously they couldn't live together on this island for long without their strange mutual attraction getting them in some kind of trouble. But she wanted more than a casual relationship with Cameron.

It was kind of like the house and car thing, the way rich people used those terms. The words didn't reflect what was really going on, what the reality of the situation was.

She didn't revere the institution of marriage. You couldn't work as a lawyer and not realize that marriage had taken quite a beating in the last few decades. No, what she wanted was love, and the more time that went by, the more she was beginning to believe maybe Cameron really didn't have that particular emotion inside him to give.

Loyalty, friendship, protection—those were qualities he had and could give. But love—she wasn't sure anymore.

It was so wonderfully comforting lying against him, feeling the heat of his body and smelling that warm, masculine scent that was his alone. But she had to get up, had to get physically away from him before things got out of hand.

Reluctantly she sat up, moved away from him and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Mike, we need to talk," he said.

She nodded her head. Words seemed to have deserted her. Usually she was articulate and competent, with a lawyer's flair for words. Now, at a time when she so desperately needed to tell Cameron how she truly felt, she couldn't seem to summon the necessary thoughts into her head.

"I want to marry you," he said.

I want to marry you.
Not, I love you, I can't live without you, I need you to make my life complete.

I want to marry you.

She held in the sigh that threatened to escape, sensing he wouldn't be too flattered by that particular response. Then she realized she'd waited too long with her answer and that was answer enough.

But what about the child she carried? Didn't he or she deserve parents who were married? Who were ready to face the responsibilities of bringing a young life into the world as a united couple? Shouldn't she merely sacrifice her own wants and needs to the needs of her child?

And shouldn't a child know he or she has parents who truly love each other?

That exact moment crystallized her decision with brilliant clarity. As she’d grown up, Mike Larkin had told her literally hundreds of stories about her mother. The one thing she’d been absolutely sure of, the one thing that had become the bedrock of her entire emotional existence, was that her parents had always loved each other.

She couldn't give her child any less.

"I can't," she whispered.

The silence was deafening but she noticed he didn't move away from her.

"Any particular reason?" he asked. She could sense the anger and hurt pride beneath the surface of his civilized words.

"I need love, Cameron."

That silenced him.

She had to do something to fill the silence. She felt so miserable about the way things were turning out. For one moment she wished she'd never given in to the temptation to satisfy her curiosity, never entered that master bedroom, never slid into that bed, and never been the aggressor in starting that particular night of lovemaking that so profoundly changed both their lives.

And created another.

"I want this child to know that his or her parents truly love each other. I want to give my baby what my father gave me. I couldn't live in a house with you and pretend. It would kill something inside of me to love you and know you didn't love me in return."

She'd said it, in a roundabout way. She'd admitted she loved him. Surely he'd known. A man didn't get to his position, negotiate shrewd deals and run a multi-million dollar company without an ability to read people. And Michaela knew that when she looked at him, much as she wanted to hide it, her love for him was right there in her eyes.

She knew Cameron had heard her but he said nothing in return. Instead, he slowly took hold of both her upper arms and eased her toward him on the outdoor mattress. They were both on their knees. Feeling his touch, Michaela could sense herself weakening.

"I care for you more than I've ever cared for any other woman," he said roughly. She could see genuine pain in his dark blue eyes.

She closed her own and willed herself to be strong. She knew Cameron, how difficult it was for him to admit even that.

How easy it would be to simply give in and let him take care of her and the baby. How easy it would be to overlook something that was as necessary to her soul as the dappled sunlight and the warm rain was to the tropical ferns surrounding the pool area.

She couldn't speak, the pain was so great. She merely shook her head.

"I'll claim the child as mine."

Her head came up as sudden comprehension dawned.

"Oh, Cameron, I'd never stop you from seeing your child! I don't plan on leaving San Francisco. I'd never prevent you from being a good father and I know you will be. I just can't contemplate a relationship without love."

"I don't think I can give you that, Mike."

Oh, it was so hard. She'd known this moment had to come, known from the moment she'd seen him in the baby's nursery, so angry. She'd known they would have to confront what their relationship—God, she hated that word!—was going to be. She'd known all of this but nothing in the way of knowing had prepared her for the enormity of the emotional pain.

It was beyond crying, beyond any sort of physical display of emotion. It touched her soul and froze it.

At that moment Michaela felt dead, for she knew, with every instinct she possessed, Cameron was the only man she'd ever love.

Maybe one miracle is all you get in this lifetime.

The child they'd created together was surely a miracle. She’d never expected to be a mother. By Christmas she’d hold her baby in her arms. Maybe her life was meant to take the same pattern her father’s had – the love of a child but no love from a spouse.

She felt her chin come up, felt that familiar surge of courage and sheer, raw will. She could get through this. She'd survive. She'd simply do what she had to do.

"I'm sorry, Cameron."

He looked away and she knew he was in pain. A part of her wished she were a more compliant, less exacting woman. She knew women who entered these sorts of arrangements every single day, compliance in exchange for financial and physical protection. She'd wondered at it at first but then simply accepted it. Maybe by the time they reached that moment of quiet acceptance they were simply too beaten down by the world to even care.

She couldn't do the same. She had no excuse. She had her health, an excellent income and her skills as a lawyer. She'd be independent, if very lonely, and would throw her emotional energies into raising her child.

A fulfilling life even if it was a lonely one. She took a deep breath.

"I'd like to go home."

He was looking at her as if he'd never truly seen her before. Then he slowly nodded his head, stood, and walked away from the pool.

* * *

She cried later that night in the shower. Then she packed all her belongings and lay down on the large bed in her room, suddenly exhausted. A little nap before dinner wouldn't hurt.

The next thing she knew, Cameron was gently shaking her awake. She looked up into his eyes and saw total, naked fear.

Something was terribly wrong.

She reached for his hand, grasped it, squeezed his fingers tightly. And in that simple gesture she gave him everything, her courage, her heart, her support, her love and her soul.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"It's Julian. He's in the hospital."

They flew home that same evening.

There was a lot more to this emergency than Julian's sudden hospitalization. As both Cameron and Michaela listened to Mrs. Monahan over his phone, the reason for the intense stress in Julian's life became quite clear.

"He didn't want to worry you," she said, her voice hoarse and nasal. She was calling from the hospital and had already given them an update of Julian's condition, which was stable if not good. "He knew the two of you were trying to work things out and he wanted that more than anything."

"We have worked things out," Michaela said calmly. Cameron once again looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. Cool, calm, professional—and beautiful.

Julian had been plagued by a lawsuit. A woman claimed she'd thought up the bear that had become the Teddy's Toys logo. That bear, Bandit Bear, was a cuddly brown bear with a mask-like marking on his  furry face. His image was on every single toy and game produced by Teddy's Toys.

"Coleman, Watts and Burrell has taken on the case," Mrs. Monahan said. Cameron felt Michaela tense beside him.

Joshua Burrell had never liked Julian. Cameron was sure their last exchange over the phone hadn't endeared the older man to the lawyer. Taking on this woman's lawsuit was a deliberate act of malice.

"But Bandit Bear was thought up almost fifty years ago," Michaela replied in answer to something that Mrs. Monahan said. Cameron brought his thoughts back to the present with a vengeance.

"This woman says she thought him up first and has some sort of submission to back up her claim. She insists that, when she was a little girl, she drew a picture of Bandit for some sort of contest. She didn't win, and then according to her story, a remarkably similar bear became the company's logo."

"That damn contest," Cameron muttered. "Burrell’s going to make this a personal vendetta. He's going to ensure Julian’s totally humiliated."

"Cameron," Mrs. Monahan said soothingly. "I've tried for the last five years to make Julian see he can no longer be the acting head of the company. He should've given it over to you years ago."