The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) (9 page)

When had life become like this for him? His career no longer as fulfilling as it once was, or perhaps he’d lied to himself about that? Maybe the business drive his father had insisted upon had never made Liam content?

Whitmore Incorporated
is
life, Liam. Never forget that. Nothing will ever come before the business. No one will ever fulfill you like the business. Whitmore requires absolute loyalty, son.

He shook free of his father’s words and gulped down the bourbon. His father would probably be proud of the lengths he’d go to for Whitmore. Having a child just to keep control—his old man would slap him on the back and congratulate him. His father was testing his loyalties even now, after death. When it came to control no one had more than Liam II.

Liam felt too agitated to sit home and soon was driving through Austin. Dusk had fallen so he parked and walked out onto Congress Avenue Bridge, joining the others collected there. A black swarm poured from beneath the bridge and even over the sounds of the city, the whoosh of wings was the loudest. Bats darted this way and that, snapping insects while in flight, darkening the sky as the last traces of red and orange from the setting sun faded on the horizon.

He’d only been to watch the bats a few times in his life; it was more a tourist trap for visitors of the city.

A young toddler squealed and clapped, while his mother cuddled him close and pointed at the winged animals. “Those are bats,” she explained.

“Bats, bats,” the toddler parroted, clapping some more.

The mother laughed. “Yes, baby.”

Liam couldn’t help but smile at the child’s enthusiasm. Perhaps Abigail would bring their child to see the spectacle.
Her
child, he corrected before turning away and walking back to his car.

He drove a bit aimlessly until he pulled up outside of a small, cream-colored bungalow. He parked and stared at the house. Faint light illuminated the blinds in one of the front windows. Liam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Abigail’s home looked quaint, cozy, and well lived in. Bright pink flowers grew in a long bed that hugged the base of the home, and the grass needed trimmed. A bird feeder sat on a wooden platform.

Well lived in, unlike his monstrosity sitting outside of Austin, or even his apartment in Whitmore Tower which only served as a place to lay his head. Outside of his office, he hadn’t felt at home in a place since his childhood. Inside the bungalow perhaps there’d be dirty dishes in the sink and an unmade bed, things that proved life inside a house. His family had had housekeepers in his youth, and nothing had remained out of place for more than a few minutes.

His father wouldn’t have tolerated anything less than a near sterile environment. Liam had a compulsion to keep things perfectly organized, whether by nature or nurture he couldn’t be sure. Living in a home that allowed dirty dishes and unmade beds was a novelty he couldn’t even begin to grasp.

The front door of the bungalow opened, and Liam shrank in his car seat, watching as Abigail stepped outside. The inside light left her in silhouette, and Liam suddenly considered how it may appear to have him sitting outside her home, watching. She looked down the street then toward his SUV and Liam’s heart stalled.
Damn it.
Did she see him?

Abigail turned away, walked to the side of her home, and poured something into a bowl. She was dressed in cutoff sweatpants and a light colored t-shirt. Casual attire that left her toned legs in full view. Liam swallowed as arousal hit his blood like venom.

A small, dark shape appeared from behind the home. Abigail backed off and he realized it was a cat. It stuck its head in the bowl, but seemed skittish with Abigail so near. She slowly walked back inside, and the door closed. Abigail fed neighborhood strays. Liam didn’t want to work over why that pleased him so much.

Chapter 10

Abby kept focusing on the end result of this week with Liam, and not what she’d spend the week doing with the man. When she pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine, she sat for several minutes, trying to still her racing heart. The jet sat behind the large building ahead of her, its glossy white nose just peeking out. She rarely flew and had never stepped foot on a private plane. Though she didn’t have a full-on phobia of flying, she still preferred having both feet firmly on the ground.

She gathered her courage, trying to use it to squash the flutter of butterflies. The little beasts were too frantic in her middle and she gave up the effort. She got out of her car, collected her bags from the trunk, and headed inside. She spoke briefly with the person manning the desk, and he directed her toward a hallway. Someone appeared and took her bags, and Abby was then ushered outside. Boarding went much smoother than with commercial flights, and she could appreciate why someone who could afford it would own an airplane.

She walked up the flight of stairs leading to the jet cabin and was greeted by a smiling steward. “Welcome, Miss Haden. Let me show you to your seat.”

Abby spotted Liam when she stepped inside, and her heart leapt into her throat. He sat toward the front of the plane, a laptop on a table before him, looking completely at home. He glanced to his watch then he met her eyes. Thanks to traffic and her own faltering nerves, she’d arrived twenty minutes late.

“Good to see you,” he said in greeting. “Is that the contract in your hands?”

She clutched the manila folder to her chest, not quite ready to part with it and seal her fate. She nodded. He held out his hand. Behind her, the jet’s door was pulled closed. The sound of the engines firing vibrated through the interior. She took several deep breaths, trying to temper her instinct to flee.

“You’ll need to take your seat and buckle up,” the steward said from behind her.

Abby stepped forward and handed Liam the contract. He took it, remaining impassive while she took a seat on a long leather covered couch the steward directed her to. She fastened her seatbelt. Liam looked over the paperwork.

“Everything’s in order.” He placed the folder inside a briefcase by his side. “Here’s my lab work.” He rose and handed it to her then returned to his laptop without further comment.

Just like that, she’d made her deal with the devil. She glanced through his health reports, he was clean. She set the information aside and balled her hands in her lap as the plane taxied down the runway then began its ascent.

Once they leveled off the steward reappeared. “Can I get you something to drink?”

She peered up into his smiling and reassuring face. “Uh, do you have wine?” Actually, a bottle of tequila would’ve made her feel much better.

“We have an extensive wine list.” He started naming brands and vintage in a much too excited voice for her mood to handle. When he paused for a breath, she ordered one of the merlots he’d mentioned just to get him to leave.

After he disappeared, she dug her cross-stitch from her purse, but soon stuffed it back inside after poking her finger three times with the needle. Her hands trembled too much for the delicate work.

“Fear of flying?”

Liam’s voice made her start. Abby rubbed her sweating palms over the soft leather couch cushions.

“It’s not too bad,” she replied, though flying wasn’t her main concern. Her coming week with Liam overwhelmed her insecurity of being in the air. He held her gaze, and the butterflies worked themselves into a tizzy again.

“It’s a brief flight. We’ll be there by three PM.” He returned to his work.

The short time didn’t make her feel better, not much would at this point. She focused on the aroma of conditioned leather, counting her breaths, wishing she could still her nerves with a round of yoga. Her daily outlet for the stress she encountered in nursing.

The chipper steward reappeared, handing her a glass of wine. She took an eager drink, barely noting its taste. Another three drinks and she’d nearly finished it off.
What would Liam think if I asked for the bottle?
She almost giggled out loud, the alcohol hitting her bloodstream quickly since she hadn’t eaten that morning. She bit her lip, and instead asked for another glass, which she took her time and nursed.

Liam took up too much room in the jet, his presence surrounding her. Unbidden, she found her thoughts meandering to what Liam might look like naked. Well, below the waist, she’d already seen the shirtless picture. It’d been years since she’d seen a penis that didn’t belong to a sick patient, and honestly, she’d become deadened to the sight. But she doubted the ability to remain pragmatic once his made an appearance.

Womanly interest blossomed. What kind of lover would he be? She studied the man in question from the corner of her eye. His laptop sat squarely on the table before him. His white shirt was wrinkleless and starched, his tie hanging down straight, the gold monogrammed tiepin in perfect position. His dark slacks were creased, face cleanly shaven, nothing about him out of place. He’d be efficient, she decided. Tab A into slot B efficient, with nothing superfluous left over. He seemed well-organized in everything else.

Abby squirmed on the cushion, her errant wonderings having a sudden, and very real, physical effect. Awareness heated her bloodstream, and she gulped down the rest of the wine. Regardless his approach, it’d been entirely too long since she’d had a man touch her in an intimate way. Too long since she’d been stimulated and aroused, too long since she’d been left wet with want. And suddenly she was wet, and very much wanting.

“I’m not going to think about this,” she mumbled to herself. She couldn’t, because the fluttering of fear began to take hold beneath arousal.

In preparation, she’d waxed and shaved, exfoliated and lotioned within an inch of her life. Though she hated comparing herself to other women he’d known, she couldn’t help it. And had been annoyed with herself for taking such unusual care with her appearance.

He’d be efficient, and for the love of God, she was determined not to be anything but equable.

“Pardon? Did you say something?” Liam asked, breaking into her inner rant.

Abby blushed. How much had she said out loud?
No more alcohol for me.
“Nothing.”

She snatched her cross-stitch from her purse and focused on her needlework again. The alcohol had steadied her hands, and she lost herself to the colorful strands of floss. Time passed faster than she could’ve imagined, and soon they were preparing to land.

They landed on an airstrip outside of Aspen. Abby hustled out of the plane, and the nip of the mountain chill bit through her sweater. She’d packed jeans, sweaters, but no heavy coat which was in desperate need of dry cleaning. She hugged her arms around her middle as she walked inside the small building of the private airstrip. Inside was a bit warmer, though she still needed another ten degrees. She eyed the natives, running around in short sleeves.

She and Liam’s bags were taken to an SUV sitting in a lot outside. She balked at the exit, standing inside the building as Liam walked out and climbed into the driver’s seat. Being in a confined space with him seemed overwhelming, leaving her weak-kneed. He started the SUV, its rumble a beckon she couldn’t ignore. He revved the engine—an impatient sound. She hurried to the vehicle, opened the passenger side door, and climbed inside.

Liam’s cologne struck her, a rich, intoxicating scent. No doubt a pricey brand, because she’d never smelled it on any of the men she’d dated. She huddled by the door while Liam drove out to the highway. Despite her reservations, the beauty of the Rockies struck her, and she gasped. Heavy clouds obscured their white-capped peaks, a breathtaking sight she could almost reach out the window and touch. Outside of an airplane window, she’d never seen clouds so close. She couldn’t resist taking out her cellphone and snapping a few pics with its camera.

“Have you ever been to Aspen?” Liam asked.

“No, I’ve been through the Denver airport. That’s the only time I’ve been in Colorado.”

“You’ll like the cabin. It’s surrounded by the mountains, and there’s a lot of wildlife. Elk, moose, deer, even an occasional grizzly bear.”

She shot him a concerned look. “Grizzlies?”

He smiled, a genuine expression, flashing his white teeth and making the corners of his eyes crease. She hadn’t seen it before outside of still shots. The fascinating effect it had on his face nearly dazzled her as much as the snowcapped mountains.

“You stay out of their way and they’ll stay out of yours. From time to time there are reports of bears breaking into homes, but with plenty of wild prey, we don’t need to worry.” He looked at her, his gaze drifting down her body, before returning to the road. It left a hot trail beneath her clothes, and she shoved her sweater sleeves to her elbows. The cab felt too warm. “As far as running into them in their habitat, I doubt if we’ll spend much time outside anyway.”

She licked her lips and sat up straighter with the jolt of awareness, his rumbled last words doing obscene things to her lady parts. She squirmed in her seat, turning her face to the side window, needing Liam out of her peripheral vision. Expectation strummed her nerve endings, winding into a tight knot low in her stomach.

Another thought wormed its way into the exhilaration—what if she couldn’t perform for him? Surely he had expectations for his lovers, and what if she simply couldn’t meet them? What if he got angry with her?
He takes most of it out at this shabby boxing gym downtown…
Mr. Davidson’s words echoed in her mind. An ugly taunt for her mounting anxiety to grasp onto and twist into all sorts of distorted mental images.

She squeezed her eyes shut, swiping her sweating palms over her pants legs. None of it has any basis in reality, she thought.
He’s nothing like Jeff. Well, not exactly. And I’m nothing like that scared girl who stayed with a boyfriend like him.

She focused her overactive notions on the early morning phone call from her brother. Their father was on the mend. No leads on the cattle rustlers, but she doubted if they’d ever find out who’d done it. They had sophisticated systems and most likely dropped the cattle off at a slaughter plant, effectively covering their tracks.