The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) (7 page)

The rift between her and Liam stretched into a vast gulf. She was a lowly broodmare for the rich megalomaniac—someone nondescript to meet his needs and then be put aside. As would the baby.

Their equal footing vanished. Abby had been in this spot before, feeling two steps below a man she’d needed at the time—or at least thought she had. A horrible and ugly lesson she’d learned with bruises to back it up. She swallowed the bitter taste of the memory. Mr. Whitmore wouldn’t take away any part of her, she decided. Not one sliver of the self-confidence she’d worked so hard for over the years.

When she left Whitmore Tower, she’d already made a very clear decision to never step foot inside it again.

Chapter 7

The fire flashing in the nurse’s eyes had struck Liam in an appealing way. He’d glimpsed it outside his mother’s home and he’d been granted another view of it today. She could stare a hole through granite, and being on the receiving end of her glare excited him. The stubborn set of her mouth let him know she had plenty of fight; she wouldn’t be one to back down from what she believed in.

Abigail continued to surprise him. He’d initially misjudged her as a person with a more passive personality. He appreciated someone who would stand up for themselves and look him square in the eye. When he pushed, he wanted a woman who’d push back and not simply give in to make him happy, as was his general dating history. When women were concerned with his fortune, they usually cared little about what he did.

His physical attraction mixed with respect for Abigail, and respect was a hard-won thing in his view. Not many could claim it from him. He shifted beneath an uncomfortable erection and turned his attention back to the computer screen, but he couldn’t keep his mind on the company information he scrolled through. He reminded himself the coming week would involve conception. Not a search for a compatible mate, even
if
the idea teased him now.

Liam wasn’t ready to settle down, and he had no extra room in his life to spare. Whitmore Incorporated took it all. He couldn’t even entertain casually dating the nurse, not if she had a baby on the way. Things would get messy and complicated. There would be schedules to juggle, trying to squeeze out bits and pieces of nonexistent free time for Abigail and doctors’ appointments. Then for her and a newborn—he couldn’t abandon a new mother to the shock of parenthood all on her own, not if he’d invested in a relationship with the woman. And later children’s soccer games, ballet recitals…

He sought the suffocation he normally felt for such things, but found it absent. Not finding it disturbed him. Liam didn’t want to work out why the independence he counted on didn’t seem to fill all the gaps inside him. Or why his imagination wanted to put together a mental photograph for the child he and Abigail produced. Stress and sleepless nights were doing a number on Liam’s mental state. It was the best explanation he could come up with for the ideas revolving around the nurse that’d toyed with his thoughts the last few days.

He leaned back in his chair and stared toward the ceiling, wishing for a glass of bourbon. Out of the question, of course, since it was in the middle of the work day. The last thing he needed was a drinking habit, not with everything else that weighed on him. He’d taken to his bourbon more than usual in the evenings, even though he kept telling himself he’d cut back.

He balled his hands into fists and bumped them on his thighs. Liam prided himself as being a disciplined man, had been most of his life, and watching that solidity slip even an inch tried his patience.

A knock sounded. Before he could acknowledge the intrusion, Spencer strode in.

“What do you want?” Liam growled, shooting his relation an annoyed glare.

Spencer shut the door quietly behind him and gave his cousin a broad smile. “I see you had a visitor today.”

Liam refused to meet Spencer’s gaze and spun back to his computer. “It’s a private matter.”

“You’re too hostile, Liam, calm down. You’ve found the mother to your heir, I take it.”

Liam forced his face into an impassive mask. Spencer had always been frustratingly perceptive. “What makes you think that?”

“A pretty young thing dressed in scrubs shows up here to see you personally. Leaves with a folder full of papers. My guess, she’s probably cared for Aunt Caroline, and that’s how you know her. Am I getting warm?”

“Do you have this quarter’s financial statements, Spencer?” Liam asked, diverting the line of questioning. Like hell he’d ever let Spencer in on any personal issue when it could easily be twisted and used against him. Especially when it came to fulfilling his end of the will and screwing Spencer out of a fortune.

“How much did you offer her?” Spencer pressed on.

Liam remained silent, grinding his teeth.

“I know you must’ve offered her cash, though I imagine she could’ve made a fortune selling her story to the tabloids.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Do you know anything about her, cousin?” Spencer lifted his hand when Liam opened his mouth to comment. “I’m only trying to be the voice of reason here. Have you looked into her background, because who knows what could be lurking in her history? You might be getting into something you didn’t count on. Just because she has a nice pair of tits and open legs—”

“Financial statements or get the fuck out of my office.” Liam kept his voice level, though his pulse throbbed in his temples while he kept a tight rein on his temper. Hearing Spencer fling insults toward Abigail made him furious, and he didn’t dare look toward his cousin.

Spencer cleared his throat. “I’ll forward them to you today.”

He left as calmly as he’d entered. His cousin believed he’d already won and probably had the deal for Whitmore drawn up. Liam balled his fist and slammed it down on the desk top, jarring a container of ink pens and knocking it over. He ignored the pens as several rolled off onto the floor. A stranger who’d weigh one hundred twenty pounds sopping wet held the future of Whitmore Incorporated in her hands. An empire built on hard work and sacrifice balanced on Abigail, who most likely knew nothing of the corporation. The loss of control over his own future was a bitter pill to swallow.

One thing was for damn sure—once they were nestled in Aspen, he’d work harder for that heir than he’d ever worked for anything in his life. He’d go down fighting to his last breath for what mattered most. His company.

He hoped Abigail could handle the six days he had planned, because this was war.

* * * *

Once Spencer returned to his office, he entered a background search on his computer for
Abigail Haden.
A little finagling and he’d gotten her name from Liam’s receptionist. The tremor in his hands made him scowl. He’d been certain Liam wouldn’t find someone to bear a child. He hadn’t counted on his cousin lowering himself to pay some twat he’d found on the street.

“Fuck.” Of course Liam would do exactly that. He’d do anything to keep hold of his damn company. It wouldn’t matter who or what she was, as long as he could get his dick in her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His voice filled the office as he stared at his computer screen.

The suppressed anxiety that his venture might fail flooded through him in one great big whoosh. His normally unflappable confidence withered into oblivion and he felt sick to his stomach. He started scanning data on his computer, searching for something, anything at all, he could use against the woman.

He had to stop Liam’s strategy dead in its tracks as soon as possible. Plans were in place, plans that couldn’t be backed out of unless he wanted to be in a shitload of trouble. Richard and Martin had enough against him to make his life hell, or worse, send him to prison. And they’d do exactly that just for spite if he ruined the buyout. Not to mention his own personal investment. He’d spent nearly a year in his uncle’s ear, working every angle he could until he’d gotten his chance at taking Whitmore from Liam.

Spencer had gotten backed into a corner, an unnecessary corner. Why Liam had to cling to the corporation was beyond comprehension when they’d make a fortune off its sale. His cousin could spend the rest of his days chasing ass like his father had, without the hassle of running Whitmore Incorporated. For God’s sake, he was doing him a favor by freeing him from the responsibility. He could take his mother and head to some tropical island. She’d probably enjoy spending her final days on a beach somewhere.
Selfish bastard.

Spencer took a deep breath, regaining control over his anger. Panic wouldn’t help him right now. He still had cards to play; he only had to find them. Reason ruled his life, and reason always won out. He leaned back in his desk chair and rubbed his hands over his face. His cellphone vibrated with another text from Angela.

You can’t avoid me forever, Spencer.

She’d kept his phone hot the last few days with calls and texts. He’d had to leave his cellphone in his office to keep his wife from seeing her messages. She’d become obsessed with him after only a few nights of fucking. A reward for himself after having dealt with the massive amount of stress he’d been under while working things out with Liam II then KayBona.

She wasn’t anything more than a twenty-three year old legal assistant to a law firm he used. He’d made it perfectly clear their tryst wouldn’t carry any further than a three-day weekend while his wife and kids were out of town.

He growled as the phone vibrated again, and he refused to look at Angela’s new message. What the hell was wrong with her anyway? The sex hadn’t been that great.

He tapped his foot as he dug around into Abigail Haden’s personal history. No arrest records, only a couple of speeding tickets, useless to use against her. But everyone had dirt in their past, so he kept searching. She’d graduated nursing school top of her class, volunteered at a battered women’s shelter, owned her own home. A mismatch of info spread out through social networks and online articles. Entire lives could be pieced together with a few clicks of a mouse, good and bad. Nothing could be hidden within cyberspace, at least not for long. They’d used this tactic in the past with companies that balked at selling. Manipulation had become much easier in the twenty-first century.

An article headline caught his eye. He pulled it up then grinned—nothing front page worthy yet nonetheless valuable for his purposes. Apparently Miss Haden had lived with a man who’d gotten arrested for domestic battery against her.

Bingo.
An emotional scar like that could be manipulated for his means. If it was all he’d have, Spencer would milk it for all it was worth. He pulled up Miss Haden’s address and jotted it down on a piece of paper before tucking it into his pants pocket.

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. He rolled his neck then stared at his cellphone. He picked it up, intending to delete Angela’s messages. He pulled the last one up.

His heart stopped. “Fuck.”

I didn’t want to tell you this way. I’m pregnant.

Chapter 8

Abby took her second read through of Liam’s contract. Much of the legalese was confusing, but she understood the gist of things. Enough that she wouldn’t have to hire an attorney for help, which was good since she didn’t have the extra cash to spare.

She rubbed her fingertips over her tired eyes. The two hundred fifty thousand dollars taunted her. The quicker she got her hands on it the better for her family. Which meant the quicker she conceived the better, and that led to thoughts of Liam.

She leaned back on her couch, setting the paperwork aside. She’d never had casual sex. The few partners in her past were long-term and committed relationships. Boyfriends, and she’d been in love with them. While she had no doubt Mr. Whitmore had a body to die for beneath his conservative suits, she couldn’t shake his cold and detached approach to the coming week. Which made her doubt her enjoyment of their coupling.

Sex with someone who’s almost a stranger...how will I do this?
Well, he
was
a complete stranger, her only knowledge of him came from Lupita and websites she’d browsed. One side of the sites boasted his accomplishments, the other, gossip on his tyranny and womanizing.
Sex with a tyrant and womanizer.

She swallowed. She’d once been in a relationship with a dominating man; shortly after her mother had died. He’d been an outlet for her pain, someone to clutch on to when everything had turned upside down and inside out. Someone to control things when she felt she had no control, and she’d paid a dear price for it.

Abby had come to her senses and left him after she’d miscarried thanks to his violence. But the men who’d followed had always been dominating. Though not as bad as Jeff, the relationships had ended sour when she realized the pattern redeveloping. She mistrusted herself when it came to her choices in men, and Liam seemed exactly the type she should avoid at all cost. The strong attraction she felt only confirmed it in her mind—she was drawn to the wrong sort like a moth to flames. Irresistible and exciting, but she’d easily be destroyed if she didn’t watch how close she got.

Panic swelled, and she diverted her attention to a more pleasing topic, and wandered through her house, pausing in a doorway. Her spare bedroom would be the baby’s nursery, and she looked forward to decorating it. Teddy bears would be the motif to compliment the teddy bear baby blanket her mother had made for her. An heirloom she’d pass on to her own child, as well as all the wonderful stories of her mother’s kindness and good humor.

The familiar pain of loss tugged her heart. She felt the hollow place inside where the presence of her mother had once resided, but now only a faded memory remained. Abby took a moment to recall her mother’s voice. Its always steady cadence echoed in her mind, the only real thing she could remember of it. The exact tone was fuzzy now, more of an impression than a crystal clear memory.

She returned her attention to the spare room. She’d paint the walls of the bedroom a pale mint, and find furniture at second-hand stores. Things she could redo to add her own personal and loving touch to.