Teddy Bear Heir (8 page)

"I understand. You see, when a woman first starts to have sex on a regular basis, she goes kind of crazy. Considering the sorts of men out there who typically initiate her into the act, this is understandable. But when it happens and perhaps the woman is feeling a little guilty about it and then it turns out to be an absolutely transcendent experience—"

Calling Dr. Freud to the lingerie department...

"I can see how a little denial might be in order."

She studied the look on his face and realized she'd completely snowed him. Cameron Black might be a whiz in both the bedroom and the boardroom, but he had absolutely no idea what made a woman tick.

How nice. At least he's normal in that respect.

"Hmm." He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. "You know, that makes sense."

I'm glad one of us thinks so...

She smiled then stood. "Well, I hate to counsel and run, but I do have other appointments today."

"Of course. I'll walk you to the elevator."

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to throw herself into his arms as they walked down the hall together.

* * *

He woke up in a sweat and glanced toward the door of his bedroom.

Cameron knew that beyond that doorway lay the hall, and beyond that lay the door to Nancy's bedroom. She was probably asleep, lying beneath the covers and looking absolutely adorable in one of her fluffy little nightgowns.

It was the damnedest thing. Nancy wasn't the type he usually went for. His type leaned much more toward Michaela, tall and leggy brunettes or redheads.

He'd never really had a thing for blondes.

Knowing that the woman he desired more than any other lay only a few rooms away was doing terrible things to his libido. It was sheer, unmitigated torture.

How could she have forgotten so easily?

He hadn't demanded an accounting of Nancy's sexual experience or lack of it but she’d volunteered the fact that she was still a virgin. It astounded him that such an innocent woman with such a lack of experience could have led him to such sensual heights merely two weeks ago.

But that means in roughly two more weeks...

He lay back in bed, his hands beneath his head. At first he'd thought Nancy might wish to come to his bed of her own volition. He'd left the door open and a lamp on at one end of the massive bedroom.

He didn't want to be subtle. He wanted to have some of the greatest sex he'd ever had in his life. Again.

But she hadn't approached him. Their contract had stipulated that they could continue to live largely separate lives, so she went to school and he went to work. The few meals they shared were quietly miserable.

She seemed ashamed and that made Michaela's theory seem even more valid.

Rolling over in bed, Cameron punched his pillow and lay back down, determined to sleep. But he knew it was going to be another long, lonely night.

And in a brief, petty moment, he wondered why the woman he'd had the most incredible sex of his life with couldn't be going through the same total hell he was experiencing.

* * *

She was. Oh, she was.

Michaela glared at the luminous numbers on the clock by her bed—4:18 a.m.

Four-eighteen in the morning and all she could think of was Cameron.

This whole thing was getting out of control. She'd resolved, after that one session of pseudo counseling in his office, that she was never, ever,
ever
going to do anything as dumb again.
L'affaire de Freud
had joined
L'affaire de le Stoopid,
they were both right up there at the top of life's most regrettable moments.

He'd called her at her office one more time about Nancy. And Michaela had absolved part of her guilt by telling him to take time, be tender with her, buy her little presents and delight her, listen to her worries and her thoughts about school.

To even take her away for a romantic weekend. Paris. Rome. London.

To simply be there for her.

Hell, by the time they finally got back into bed with each other, they'd probably
be
  in love. And the power of suggestion was a wonderful thing. Cameron would almost certainly think he was having wonderful sex, he'd be so worked up after almost a month of celibacy.

And that would be that. And she would quietly quit the law firm, enter a convent and get on with her life...

She rolled over in bed, disturbing both Gomez and Morticia, then punched her pillow and lay back down among the covers, determined to sleep.

Instead, she watched the sun rise.

* * *

''You look terrible, Mike.''

"I don't feel so good."

They were sitting in a little French bistro having lunch. Michaela had just completed another complicated contract for Teddy's Toys and Cameron had insisted on taking her out to lunch.

He seemed all smiles today. Michaela could guess the reason.

Nancy's fertile period was coming up. Within days. And Cameron looked like life was treating him very well, indeed.

He looked heartbreakingly beautiful to her on that Thursday afternoon. They were sitting by the large front window of the restaurant. Bright spring sunshine made his dark hair shine. His brilliant blue eyes seemed so alive. Her fingers ached to touch the slight cleft in his chin.

They'd just finished their soup when he confided in her.

"Your advice made a great deal of difference. I think Nancy is enjoying our arrangement a lot more these days."

This is my penance for what I've done,
Michaela thought.
To listen to Cameron and realize how happy he is with Nancy. And that's as it should be, for she can give him a child.

Her father had raised her within the strictures of the Catholic church, thus guilt was her constant companion.

But if their relationship was going well, then that was what was important, wasn't it? She'd stumbled and fallen once, gotten back up and dusted herself off. Surely she could forgive herself. They could all move forward from this time. She would never confide in anyone about what had actually happened.

She'd thought of going to confession during one of her blacker moments but realized the priest would probably have a coronary. Besides, she knew him, he knew his congregation, and she had no desire to share this particular sexual fiasco with anyone.

A chicken dish followed the soup, then an exquisite apple tart and dark French roast coffee. They walked back to the office and had just reached the building when Michaela became dizzy.

She clutched at Cameron as she stumbled and would've fallen if he hadn't caught her. With strong, sure hands, he guided her to the curb, where he eased her down and pushed her head between her knees.

"Just breathe," he whispered, stroking her back in a comforting manner.

She did. As her vision cleared she laughed self-consciously. "That was pretty stupid," she muttered.

His blue eyes were shrewd. "How long has it been since you've seen a doctor?"

"I'm healthy as a horse. I never go to doctors."

"You seemed kind of... I don't know. Queasy. In the restaurant, when we first walked in."

"That fish—it was such a strong smell."

"I think I've been working you too hard."

"Oh, no." She struggled to her feet and he insisted on giving her his arm. It was the sweetest sort of torture, being allowed to touch him.

"You should take a few days off. A long weekend."

How could she explain to him that the law firm of Coleman, Watts and Burrell frowned on personal days, personal emotions, even the concept of a personal
life.
More than once, Michaela had found herself wishing she had something along the lines of a wife. The male members of the firm had the luxury of having partners who kept the home fires burning.

She had Gomez, Morticia, and two rows of tomato plants.

Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. Now.

By the time they reached the office, they were laughing.

* * *

Julian Black gazed down at the couple on the sidewalk below from his office window on the fifth floor. Absently his finger rubbed the little statue's belly. He'd brought her to the office. Even though he knew it was almost hopeless to wish for a miracle, he kept dreaming.

He liked Nancy Kilpatrick. A lot. There was something very sunny and uncomplicated about the girl. She was emotionally whole and a hard worker.

But he wanted Michaela for his grandson.

He'd frowned in concern when he'd seen Michaela stagger and almost fall, then seen the concern in the way Cameron escorted her to the curb. The way he cared for her.

Oh, he could've put the entire matter down to his grandson's upbringing. Mary had made sure Cameron possessed exquisite manners. They were reinforced daily by the expected behavior of both employer and employee at Teddy's Toys.

But it was more than that.

He'd watched than together in the office long before he'd issued the ultimatum he'd come to regret.

I was so very sure...

Julian continued to watch them until they entered the building, then turned away from the window with a deep sigh.

* * *

Tonight was the night.

Cameron couldn't remember a night he'd ever felt better. He'd played racketball at the club this morning and put in a solid day's work. Mrs. Monahan had sent flowers to the house, several bouquets of the yellow daisies Nancy loved. And his ever-efficient assistant had also made reservations at one of the most romantic restaurants in the city.

Dinner had been quite pleasant. But something wasn't right.

Nancy seemed scared.

Now, lying in the large bed in the master suite, Cameron listened as the water in the bathroom was abruptly turned off. He held his breath as the door opened. Nancy was illuminated in the doorway, dressed in a peach satin nightgown.

She looked absolutely darling.

He held out his hand, trying to encourage her, hoping to quell her obvious fears. She'd been a virgin when she'd come to his bed. Their wild night of sex had almost frightened
him,
  it had been that intense. So what did he expect?

"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered. "I don't think I could bear it."

He was rewarded by her shaky smile.

She'd left her long blond hair loose as he'd requested. He liked the fact that she willingly obeyed him. It made things so much easier. As she sat down on the bed next to him and looked down at him, he slowly sat up, took her face in his hands and gently kissed her.

And nothing happened.

Puzzled, he looked at her upturned face. Her eyes were closed, her lips moist. When she opened those blue eyes, they weren't hazy with passion.

They were miserable.

He wasn't going to accept defeat.

Careful not to frighten her, he kissed her again and tried to remember the feeling of her sliding on top of him, that electric sensation when their lips had first met.

Nothing.

Her lips were trembling, her hands were cold. He felt like hugging her, comforting her, but not having a wild, sexual, no-holds-barred night with her.

"Nancy?"

She looked up at him, her expression one of abject misery.

He sighed. It was impossible. It was incredible. She'd been telling him the truth all along and he'd been far too insensitive and caught up in his own thoughts to believe her.

"Nancy," he said softly. "I'm not going to be angry with you and this time I might even actually listen." He moved away from her, opened the bottle of expensive champagne he'd had chilling by the bed. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened that night?"

Slowly, haltingly, she told him her story. After his first glass of champagne, Cameron was vaguely amused. By his second, he was furious. But he was nothing but supportive with Nancy, even when he escorted her back to her bedroom and told her they would talk more in the morning.

He assured her none of this was her fault and that life would continue along much the same lines it had before this little revelation. Except that she would no longer be expected to have sexual relations with him for the time being. At least until they got this mystery sorted out.

Back in the privacy of his master bedroom, Cameron poured himself one last glass of champagne and stood on the balcony that overlooked the sparkling lights of the city.

He took a sip and set the delicate stemmed glass down on a small table.

"If I didn't sleep with Nancy," he said to no one in particular, addressing the night and the stars above, even the full moon riding high in the sky, "then who the hell
did
  I sleep with?"

* * *

The full moon shone down on the little Victorian house in quite a different part of the city. In her bedroom, Michaela slept blissfully, the sleep of the truly exhausted.

And had no idea her world was about to be totally turned upside down.

The entire office was in an uproar when Michaela arrived with the latest contract.

"What's going on?" she asked Mrs. Monahan, whose body language gave the expression "running around like a chicken with its head cut off" a whole new meaning.

"It's chief," she whispered. "I've never seen him like this."

Michaela indicated the thick sheaf of legal papers in her hand. "Should I talk to Julian about this particular contract? Kind of bypass Cameron for today?"

Mrs. Monahan rolled her eyes, looking for all the world like one of those horses racing out of a burning barn on a late night Western.

"That might be wise."

* * *

Cameron was in his office, deep in thought.

Somehow, some way, he had to reach this mystery woman. He'd spent the past few weeks since his disastrous night with Nancy thinking of exactly how he was going to accomplish this.

It was a peculiar thing, what incredible, incendiary sex did to a man. Now the thought of having a child was the furthest thing from his mind. The thought of continuing to oversee the empire known as Teddy's Toys held very little appeal, as well.