The Great Baby Caper (11 page)

“Forget it, Courtney,” he
retorted. “Things have changed in the last few minutes. Now we have a child to
think about.”

Courtney floundered, caught
between his fervent arguments and her own doubts and emotions. “You’re right.
We do have a child to think about. But all of this is too much for me right
now. You’re overwhelming me, Mark.”

Surprisingly he smiled. “I tend to
do that, don’t I?”

“Do you ever!” she retorted, and
for a moment they both smiled. “I—I need some time to think about this, absorb
it, see how I feel.”

He nodded, appearing relieved.
“You want to sleep on it? Well, at least that’s a beginning.” He reached out
and slowly, sensuously caressed her lower lip. “You know, I’d love to sleep on
it with you.”

With a little gasp, she pulled
away. “That won’t work and you know it. Give me the night—then we’ll meet in
the morning to negotiate this further.”

He playfully touched the tip of
her nose. “
Negotiate
. I love it when you talk dirty, darling.”

“Mark, get out of here.”

Unabashed, he quickly kissed her.
“We’ll have breakfast, then. I’ll pick you up at eight a.m. Pleasant dreams,
darling.”

Before she could retort that he
would likely haunt those dreams, he was gone.

***

Afterward Courtney couldn’t keep
her mind from spinning. So much had happened, in such a short amount of time.
In the space of a few minutes, she had learned she was pregnant, then Mark had
appeared at her door. Both were major events in her life, but she still wasn’t
sure what everything meant.

Would the baby be part of her
future, but not Mark? Is that what she wanted? Did she even know?

How did she feel about being
pregnant? There she had to smile. Much as she ofttimes resented the
interference of her large family, she was fiercely loyal to them in the end.
She might be a hard-charging businesswoman, but she knew that at her core, her
values were their values. Being pregnant with a child meant taking
responsibility.

In truth, she loved children; she
offered to babysit for her nieces and nephews whenever time permitted. Indeed,
being far away from “the rug rats” and the rest of her family was one big minus
about living here in Detroit. She missed them all dearly. She’d always wanted
children of her own . . . someday.

But not this day, not this soon
.
Not before she’d accomplished some of her career goals—not to mention before
she’d gotten married! She and Mark definitely had the cart before the horse
there.

Still there was no doubt in her
mind that she wanted this child and would keep it. The very thought of her baby
brought a tear to her eye as she touched her lower belly with her hand. It
seemed incredible that the miracle of life grew within her.

Mark’s life. His seed. His
baby. His love living inside her.
As he’d aptly pointed out, the child was
half his, and therein lay the rub.

She knew how she felt about her
child. She just didn’t know how she felt about its father. Her anger toward M.
Billingham had clouded her judgment, her ability to read her own emotional
pulse, for too long. She did remember how attracted toward Mark she’d felt
during that magical night in New Orleans. The chemistry between them had been
explosive. She’d even questioned whether she might be in love with him. He was
handsome, charming, sexy. He’d definitely swept her off her feet. Seeing him
tonight had sent her emotions into a new, even deeper tailspin.

But was that enough to build a
lifetime commitment? She just didn’t know. In so many ways they were still
strangers.

She remembered his arguments about
the child. Would her child one day resent the fact that she hadn’t married its
father? Would he or she be better off with two strangers plunged into a
marriage of convenience—or with her as a single mom?

She did know how her large,
conservative family would feel about her having a child out of wedlock. To be
honest, the prospect made her just as uneasy as she knew it would make them.

And what about Vanessa’s argument,
that she could have it all? Marry Mark, and insist M. Billingham hold up his
end of the bargain by making her the new CEO? Was that being mercenary in the
extreme—or simply accepting her due?

Oh, she was so confused! She only
had till morning to get her thinking straight, and she suspected she needed a
lifetime.

***

Courtney was carrying his child
.

This amazing revelation kept
replaying itself through Mark’s mind as he drove back to his hotel. His
emotions were in chaos, and his frustration level was excruciating.

These last months with Courtney
hidden away from him had been utter hell. At times he’d suspected he was losing
his mind, so badly had he missed her, craved her, worried about her. When the
private detective he’d hired had been unable to uncover any promising leads on
her whereabouts, he’d bellowed at the man without conscience. Then at last he’d
gotten his break when Vanessa Fox had flown off to Detroit to see Courtney.

He couldn’t believe he’d finally
managed to locate her. She was as beautiful and spirited as ever, and the sight
of her, after the weeks of torturous waiting, had been overwhelmingly
emotional. Then he’d briefly held her, kissed her, touched her! Even now his
arms ached to embrace her softness again.

She’d appeared tired, and as
shaken to see him as he’d felt on seeing her. Nonetheless she’d sent him away
empty-handed. Now, when she needed him so much. Now, when she carried his baby.

He needed her, too. His life was
meaningless without her. With her by his side, he could get his life back to
normal again, though he knew it would never quite be the same.

Funny. At this stage of his life,
he had not even considered marrying and having children. But one breathtaking
night in New Orleans had changed all that. He had come to Detroit seeking a
person he desperately loved. Now he could hope to leave with two.

He had to convince Courtney that
he wasn’t just his grandfather’s pawn, that he wanted her in his own right,
that she could trust him—and he would do whatever it took to win her over.

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At seven thirty-five a.m.,
Courtney was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when her cell rang.
Buttoning her silk blouse, she went into the living room to grab it. She
suspected the caller was Mark, and wondered how he’d gotten her new cell
number. But then, nothing should surprise her after he’d tracked her down
through Vanessa.

She grabbed the phone and punched
the receive button. “Hello?”

“Courtney, dear, are you all
right?” inquired a concerned feminine voice.

“Vanessa!” Feeling keenly
relieved, Courtney asked, “Did you make it home okay?”

“Fine, although we encountered
some turbulence north of Denver. I tried to call you last night when I got
home, but there was no answer.”

“Sorry,” Courtney replied. “I was
in the bathtub when I heard the phone ring and I thought it might be . . .
well, I’ve been through so much.”

“That’s why I didn’t try to call
you again. I figured you were there, but asleep—or just feeling overwhelmed.
After all, you’ve been through the wringer.”

Courtney laughed ruefully.
“Vanessa, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you called me from the
plane, Mark showed up.”

Courtney heard a gasp. “You’re
kidding. He showed up there?”

“Yep.”

“However did he find you?”

“Evidently he tracked me through
you.”

“He,
what
? Of all the . . .
But
how
through me?”

“He hired private detectives, and
I guess they must have been watching you for clues, and followed you here from Denver.”

“Oh! I’ve never heard of anything
so outrageous.” Abruptly, Vanessa chuckled. “You know, that’s one very
determined young man.”

“Tell me about it.”

Vanessa gasped. “Oh, my God! I
just realized . . .”

“Uh-huh.”

“Does he know?”

“He guessed.”

“My heavens!”

“It’s my fault, though. He
casually mentioned children, and I went red as a beet.”

Her usually sedate friend actually
giggled. “What happened then?”

“What do you think? He proposed
marriage again, this time using the baby as additional leverage.”

“Well, to be fair, dear, it is his
child too.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“So what did you say?”

“I said I would think about it.”

“And?”

“And I tossed and turned almost
all night long, and still haven’t decided what to do.”

There was a long, pregnant pause.

“All right, Vanessa, what are you
thinking?”

Solemnly, Vanessa said, “You can’t
run from your life, Courtney.”

A chill washed over Courtney.
“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re a smart girl. You know
precisely what I mean. You don’t belong in Motor City, my girl. Your home is
here. And you’ve allowed Ham Bootle and his grandson to run you out of town.”

“Vanessa, that’s not fair.”

“It’s true. It took private
detectives for Mark to find you.”

“Should I have wanted to be
found?”

“Were you planning on keeping this
man in the dark regarding his own child?”

“Vanessa, I only found out I was
pregnant five minutes before Mark appeared. I hadn’t even had time to think
about it.”

“You mean you confirmed your
pregnancy only five minutes before Mark appeared. Your encounter with him was,
what, almost two and a half months ago? If I remember correctly how these
things work, that makes you around three months along. Surely you had suspicions,
from the way I heard you heav—”

“Very well,” Courtney cut in
impatiently. “I had suspicions.”

“If you are indeed the honorable
young woman that I know you to be, you were going to have to face Mark about
this sooner or later. It’s just as well that it happened now.”

“You’re probably right. But is a
baby enough reason to bring two people together?” Courtney sighed. “I don’t
mean to be blunt, but you’re the one who should know.”

“Indeed, and I can think of worse
reasons for two people to marry,” Vanessa replied frankly. “Moreover, it seems
to me that the baby wasn’t more than a wish hanging on a star that night you
and Mark got together in New Orleans.”

“You’re right,” Courtney rejoined
ruefully. “Something else brought us together then. Rum and a steamy New Orleans night.”

Vanessa laughed. “How cynical you
are, my girl. But let’s get back to the issue at hand: What are you going to
do?”

“I don’t know.” Sighing, Courtney
glanced at her watch. “And I need to decide quickly. Mark is picking me up for
breakfast in twenty minutes.”

“You know what I think—”

“Yes, I know. That I should go for
it, grab the brass ring, take the promotion . . . and Mark. Now who’s being
cynical?”

“If I didn’t think you had
feelings for that young man, I’d never suggest it. If I thought your Mark was
cut from the same cloth as Ham, I’d personally ship you off to Timbuktu before I allowed you to marry his grandson. But I sense that this young man is a
gem of a different water, that he has far more integrity than Ham.”

“Probably so.”

“Furthermore, this situation with
Mark must be resolved. You’re pregnant and don’t need the stress that will
surely ensue from leaving this hanging.”

“Agreed. But, unless my answer is
yes, Mark won’t give up.”

“My point precisely. And doesn’t
that give you a hint as to what you should do?”

Courtney was silent.

“Plus there’s the entire stigma of
illegitimacy to consider, even in this enlightened age.”

Courtney carefully considered her
friend’s words. Even though she realized Vanessa’s point of view was likely clouded
by her own experience in going pregnant to the altar, Courtney was concerned
about her baby growing up without a father. And she felt more than a little
compassion for Mark. “You know what really bothers me?” she asked wistfully.

“Tell Vanessa.”

“Mark lost his parents, Vanessa.
His
parents
, for heaven’s sake, when he was only eighteen years old.”

“Yes, I heard about the tragedy
years ago. I understand there were some sisters—”

“Yes, two, back in London, now with families of their own.”

“But your point is, I’m sure, that
now obnoxious Ham is really all Mark has left as a sort of elder statesman in
his life.”

“Exactly. And although he doesn’t
talk a lot about losing his parents, I know it must have devastated him, and .
. .”

“And?”

Voice growing hoarse with emotion,
Courtney asked, “Can I keep this man from his own child?”

Vanessa was quiet for a long
moment, then said solemnly, “My girl, I think you have your answer.”

Before Courtney could comment,
Vanessa quietly hung up.

Courtney stood frowning at the
sound of the dial tone, then the doorbell rang. She laughed, setting down her
cell. This was becoming comical. First Vanessa called, then Mark rang her
doorbell.

He was fifteen minutes early, too.
Was she surprised?

Feeling like one of Pavlov’s dogs,
she ran over and opened the door. Mark, freshly pressed and cleanly shaven,
stood in her doorway. Surprisingly, he broke into a grin at the sight of her.
She should have taken that as her cue that he was about to catch her off guard.
Not missing a beat, he quickly caught her in his arms, swept her inside the
door, shut it, and gave her a hearty kiss. Even as she reeled in the aftermath,
he drew back and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Mark!” Outraged, she slapped his
hands away.

He burst out laughing. “Courtney,
have a look at yourself.”

She looked downward. “What?”

“Your blouse is buttoned perfectly
crookedly, my dear.”

She scowled down at her blouse,
and at last spotted the extra flap of fabric, with buttonhole, at the bottom.
Blushing, she muttered, “Oh. Excuse me.”

She started off, but he caught her
arm. “No way. You’ve been out of my sight too long. Allow me.” He began freeing
the buttons, his amused gaze fastened on her, and this time Courtney was too
flustered to resist. Once her blouse was completely undone, he backed off,
stared at her breasts in the lacy wisp of her bra, and a low wolf whistle
escaped him.

“Mark!”

“Can I help but admire a
masterpiece?”

To hide her hot blush, Courtney
busied herself buttoning her blouse. His provocative behavior left her deeply
rattled. She had seen Mark passionate, persuasive, angry, distraught. Now he
was back to being his most tender and teasing self, and somehow that was most
unsettling of all.

This was going to be difficult.
Damn difficult
.

***

“Well?” Mark asked tensely,
moments later at the coffee shop. “Have you come to a decision, Courtney?”

Taking a bite of fluffy scrambled
eggs, Courtney set down her fork and faced Mark over the table top. With his
expression so tense and filled with expectation, he seemed a different man from
the charming rascal who had appeared at her door earlier. But this was
different—their moment of decision.

As to what she would say to him,
she had gone around in circles endlessly, only to come back to the same
sobering facts. Perhaps Vanessa had said it best:
You can’t run from your
life.

“Courtney?” Mark nudged.

“Yes, I’ve come to a decision.”
Steeling herself, she said quietly, “I’ll marry you, Mark.”

His face lit with joy. “You will?”

She held up a hand. “Not so fast.
There are conditions.”

“I’ll agree to anything
reasonable,” he quickly responded.

She lifted her chin. “If we marry,
I want to go back to Bootle’s Baby Bower as CEO.”

He flinched slightly. “You mean
you see this as agreeing to my grandfather’s terms?”

“Mark, I’m marrying you to give my
child a name.”

“What about a father?”

“That, too.”

“Go on.”

“I think we should marry for the
child’s sake. But there are no guarantees that this will last—”

“Speak for yourself there,
Courtney,” he interjected heatedly. “I’m playing for keeps.”

She felt her face go hot at that,
and quickly glanced away. “Mark, I am willing to try. I think it’s better that
a child grow up with two parents rather than one. And we do seem to
be—er—compatible in some ways—”

He grasped her hand. “In all the
ways that count, darling.”

Even though his words set her
pulse to hammering, she retrieved her fingers and cleared her throat. “I don’t
think we should draw any hasty conclusions from the short amount of time we’ve
spent together. What happened in New Orleans was probably just a fluke—and
definitely not enough to build a lasting marriage on.”

“I found it a damn fine place to
begin.”

“That’s another thing,” she went
on in a shaking voice. “Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean that we—”

“Oh, doesn’t it?” he cut in,
guessing her meaning at once.

Bravely, she stated, “I don’t want
to repeat the mistakes of New Orleans.”

Ruefully he smiled. “Love, if you
do any research on the institution of marriage, you’ll find it’s all about
repeating the mistakes of New Orleans—and as often as possible, if I have my
way.”

He was rattling her beyond belief
now, as if he had power over her and were savoring it; she twisted her fingers
in her lap. “You’re missing my point. I don’t want us rushing things—”

“Courtney, you’ve agreed to marry
me,” he reminded.

She glanced up at him almost
helplessly. “That doesn’t mean that my emotions will immediately follow suit.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I need time, Mark. I
don’t want to sleep with you, not until I’m ready.
If
I am.”

He scowled. “You mean one of those
classic marriages in name only?”

She nodded. “That the way it’s
going to have to be in order for me to participate.”

He frowned. “And you want to go
back to work? Won’t that mean my grandfather will win?”

“Mark, I’ve already lost.”
Watching him blanch, she quickly added, “I mean, I’ve agreed to marry you.”

“And you see that as losing?”

Contrite, she said, “I’m sorry. I
said that all wrong. If I lost, it’s to your grandfather, not you.”

“Well, that’s an improvement. And
even with him, this loss will be a huge gain.”

She nodded. “I agree. When I spoke
with my friend Vanessa about this, she urged me to take it all, everything I’ve
been offered. She also pointed out that I don’t need of stress of leaving this
unresolved, not with the baby and all. In thinking it over, her point of view
makes a lot of sense to me.”

His gaze grew shuttered. “So . . .
I’ll never quite know whether you’re marrying me because of our child, or
because you want the promotion?”

She leaned toward him and spoke
earnestly. “Mark, I’m marrying you because of our child. I’m taking the
promotion because I
earned
it. If I thought otherwise, I’d never accept
it, much less, your proposal.”

He was silent, brooding.

“Will you arrange things with your
grandfather?”

“Yes. But first I have some terms
of my own.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll marry here in Detroit as soon as the arrangements can be made.”

She caught a sharp little breath;
heavens, he wasn’t allowing any grass to grow under their feet. “Well, I hadn’t
expected it to be so sudden, but I suppose that makes sense.”

“My grandfather will attend the
ceremony.”

“Mark!”

His expression was obdurate. “It’s
a deal-breaker, Courtney. He and your friend Vanessa may act as our witnesses.”

She hesitated a long moment, then
conceded, “Very well. But you do know they hate each other—”

“They can bury the hatchet for one
day, then. And there’s more: Before we return to Denver, we’re going on a
honeymoon together.”