Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan Page 3

He had grown into an extraordinarily attractive man. His dark hair was thick and glossy and his eyes were a striking blue, made even more vivid when he had a tan through the summer months. As a child and a teenager he’d been tall but scrawny and awkward. Once he’d begun weight training, his arms had become muscular and strong. Apparently, he’d kept up some sort of fitness routine, because his shoulders now were almost bulky, and his upper arms filled out the sleeves of his suit jackets.

  Stop it! Jessie told herself. Again. Ryan was her friend, not a potential lover. She ignored the quickening of her pulse.

  In a few more moments they were back at her apartment building. In the hallway outside her door, she turned to him. But before she could speak, he said, “May I come in? I asked you out tonight for a purpose and I’ve been trying to get around to it all evening.” He smiled wryly. “Trying to work up my courage.”

  Relief washed through her. “Of course. I’ve been wondering about it. How about if I make us some coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” He followed her as she unlocked her door and stepped into the small foyer.

  Jessie took his coat and waved him into the living room while she hung up their outerwear and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. She put a paper doily on a small plate, then got some grapes from the bowl on her counter and arranged them on the tray with a handful of peanut butter cookies she’d gotten from the deli down the street on her way home earlier. Pulling out a tray, she set the plate on it along with creamer, sugar and spoons. She was pretty sure he drank his coffee black.

  In another moment her little coffeemaker had finished, and she poured two cups. Walking into the living room, she set the tray on the table before the sofa and took a seat. Ryan had been standing at the window, looking out into the dark night. But when he heard her, he turned and came over to stand near her. “Sit down,” she invited, patting the cushion beside her.

  “Thanks.” He did so, then picked up his cup and took a drink, grimacing at the heat. She noted with satisfaction that she’d been right—he drank it black. “Your apartment’s nice,” he said. “I’ve never seen where you live before.”

  “I don’t do the hostess thing,” she said. “It’s too small for parties. But given the price of real estate in Back Bay right now, I’m lucky to have it at all.”

  There was a small, awkward silence between them.

  Finally, Ryan stirred and turned toward her. “Jessie, we’ve been friends for a long time. I know you want children.” He took a deep breath. “And so do I. Will you marry me?”

  What? She couldn’t have heard him right. But she knew she had, and her voice showed her agitation when she spoke. “No! Ryan, that’s not what I want—I mean, you don’t really want to marry me, either. When you called, I thought…I thought…”

  “You thought what?” His voice was flat and distant as he stared into his coffee cup.

  She felt a blush creeping up her neck into her cheeks. “Well, I thought you were going to offer to be a…a donor.”

  “You what?” His mouth dropped open much as hers had a moment before, and his gaze shot to hers.

  “I thought about what you said all day.” She rushed on, wanting only to get this over with. “You’re right about anonymous men being risky. So I decided it would be better to ask someone I know to be a donor. But most of my friends are married, and I didn’t really feel comfortable…so I made a list of bachelors—”

  “And my name was at the top of your list?” His voice sounded incredulous and his distaste was clear.

  “Well, yes.” She looked away from the cool blue eyes. “I’ve known you practically forever and I know your family.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a logical idea.” She could see from the dark frown that drew his brows into a single thick line that he was about to refuse so she kept on. “Please, Ry? I’m serious about this baby. It would really, really mean a lot to me.”

  But he shook his head. “I don’t think so, Jess.”

  “But why?” She was pleading and she knew it.

  “I wouldn’t be—I’m not comfortable with the idea that a child of mine would be raised never knowing me, never knowing I’m its father.” He shook his head again, decisively, and her heart sank. “It would bother me not to be involved in my child’s life.”

  “This is exactly the reaction I was afraid most of my married friends would have.” She made an effort to soften her tone. “But I didn’t expect it from you.”

  “I didn’t expect it from me, either, but then I never expected you to ask me to do something like this.” He looked down into his coffee cup again, hesitated, then shook his head. “I couldn’t do it, Jess. It wouldn’t be my child, legally, but I’d feel connected, responsible. I’d want to hold it, to play with it, to watch it grow up and be involved in its life. I can’t imagine knowing I had a child somewhere in the world and not being a father to it.” He spread his hands. “I want kids of my own. I want to give a child memories as wonderful as the ones I have of my own parents.”

  She was stunned by the passion in his voice. Her throat felt thick as she remembered the two people who had raised Ryan and his brother, the two people who had opened their arms and their hearts and included her in their charmed circle anytime she entered their home.

  She cleared her throat. “I never even knew you wanted children.” She spread her hands. “You were married to Wendy for six years—”

  “Wendy couldn’t conceive.” His voice was harsh now and abrupt. He stood so suddenly he knocked against the table, and the coffee sloshed in the cups. Stalking over to the window, he shoved his jacket back and put his hands on his hips. “We wanted them. Badly. But we tried for three years with no luck and then spent another one finding out what the problem was. We tried in-vitro fertilization twice but no luck. And then she died.”

  She eyed the rigid line of his shoulders, and her heart squeezed painfully. She’d been thinking selfishly and was sick at heart that she’d inadvertently caused him sadness. Softly she said, “I’m sorry to bring up something painful to you. If I’d known, I never would have—”

  “It’s not exactly something you want to share with the world.” His voice was curt.

  Hurt pierced her heart. She wasn’t “the world.” She’d thought she was his oldest friend. But apparently, in his mind, that old bond didn’t mean the same thing it still meant to her. She felt the hot sting of tears at the backs of her eyes and she strove to breathe deeply, to stay calm.

  At the window Ryan turned, and she quickly dropped her head. As she did so, one fat tear plopped down onto her hands, tightly clenched in her lap. Smoothing it away with her thumb, she kept her head bent as he resumed his seat beside her.

  “Jess?” His voice was quiet. “I don’t want to argue with you. You mean too much to me.”

  “You mean a lot to me, too,” she said. And then her voice broke and she turned at the same instant he did, moving into the arms he held wide.

  Jessie had danced with Ryan before, hugged him occasionally, brushed quick friendly kisses on his cheek. But she’d never known she’d find such comfort in his embrace. Even when his parents had died, they hadn’t shared a closeness like this. He’d had Wendy to comfort him then. Now his arms were hard and muscled beneath the fabric of his jacket, his shoulder a wide plane just right for her head. When she felt him press a kiss into her hair, she smiled. “I have a great idea,” she said.

  “What’s that?” His voice rumbled up from beneath her ear.

  “Let’s forget this whole stupid conversation. Just pretend it never existed.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “If that’s what you want.”

  She frowned, drawing back and looking him in the eye. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  He shrugged, hesitated. Finally he said, “I still think marriage would be a good plan, if you want to know the truth. We both want the same thing, Jess. I think we could be happy together.”

  She sighed. “We’re never going to go back to the way we were, are we?�
�� she asked sadly.

  Soberly he shook his head. “Doubt it.”

  Fear shot through her at the cool, measured tone. The last thing she wanted was to lose him altogether. Reluctantly she said, “All right.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Explain exactly why you think we should get married.” Get married…get married… The words echoed in her head. Was she really having this conversation with this man?

  “Okay.” He stood and began to walk the length of her living room, such as it was. “Selfish reasons first. Number one—I’ve got ridiculous numbers of women throwing themselves at me ever since that stupid article came out. You saw how it is today. Marriage would kill all that.”

  “One of them might make a good wife.” But she hoped not.

  He shook his head. “Any woman who would come on to a man like that is not a woman I’d want to date, much less marry.”

  “Maybe not.” She shouldn’t feel so relieved by his terse words. After all, she didn’t want to marry him. Did she? Of course not. Ryan deserved to find another woman like Wendy, a woman who would adore him and whom he could adore in return. It wouldn’t be fair at all to trap him into marriage to her simply because they shared a history and a common goal.

  You both could do a lot worse, pointed out a small devil’s voice inside her head.

  That might be true, but what if it didn’t work out? A tremor ran through her at the mere idea. She didn’t think she could bear losing Ryan, as she surely would if they married and it was a disaster. He’d been the rock that anchored her stormy childhood, and he still was her dearest friend in all the world. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything to jeopardize that.

  “Number two.” Unaware of her mental deliberations, he held up two fingers of his right hand. “I liked being married. I liked coming home to someone, sharing meals, sharing conversation. Wendy and I were friends. We could talk about anything.” He looked at her. “You and I have that, too.”

  Jessie nodded. But she was very aware that there was one thing he hadn’t mentioned sharing in a marriage: a bed. A tingle of awareness shot through her, shocking her with its intensity.

  “Number three,” he went on. “I want children. Of my own. Running through my house making noise, breaking windows with baseballs—”

  “They might be girls,” she said automatically, still preoccupied by the strange feelings rioting through her.

  But Ryan didn’t respond. He stopped pacing, his back to her, and she could see the tension in the rigid set of his shoulders and the way his head drooped. Sensing pain in his silence, she rose and went to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind as far as they would go.

  The butterflies that had been plaguing her returned the moment she touched him. He felt bulky and muscular, warm beneath her hands, and his strong back, against which she pressed herself, was as unyielding as steel. He smelled of some expensive cologne and the clean scent of drycleaned wool. Then he turned, dislodging her hold. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he bent his head and kissed her temple.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she stepped back, giving him room. As she lifted her gaze to face him, he said, “So what are your objections?”

  She shook her head. “When you get hold of an idea, you don’t let go, do you?”

  He grinned. “Just noticing?”

  She smiled, then crossed her arms and lifted a finger to tap her lips. “Objections. Hmm.” She spread her hands, loath to put all the things running through her head into words. “I don’t know. I haven’t even given marriage a thought since I was too young to know better.”

  “With what’s-his-name.”

  “His name was Chip and you know it. You never liked him, did you?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Maybe I just didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

  She laughed. “You were right. And thank God I figured it out before I married him!” Then she sobered. “Actually, he was a great guy. Just not for me. I realized that I liked the things I got from him—security, adoration, the illusion of belonging—a lot more than I liked him. And marriage wouldn’t have been fair to him.” She fell silent.

  “Back to your objections,” he prompted.

  “I don’t know,” she protested. “I suppose I always assumed that when I married it would be for the usual reasons.”

  “The usual reasons?”

  “You know. Love,” she said, throwing her arms wide. “And passion.”

  As soon as the words were out, she saw his face change. Though he hadn’t moved, she suddenly felt as if all the air in the room were supercharged. A strange, wild flame leaped, deep in his blue eyes, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, igniting a quivering spark in her abdomen that made her catch her breath in shock. “Passion, I can promise you,” he said, his voice soft and low.

  Jessie was stunned. This was Ryan, for heaven’s sake! Her friend.

  But the feelings coursing through her weren’t those of friendship. She felt as though an invisible cord inexorably tugged her toward him. She could almost feel his strong arms around her again. Her body ached to feel him pressed against her, and her lips practically tingled beneath his intent gaze.

  Good Lord. How had she not noticed how incredibly sexy he was for all these years? Or had she? Had she simply refused to acknowledge the deep pull of attraction between them? After all, he’d been married.

  “Ryan?” Her voice sounded like a stranger’s.

  He took a step toward her, and she instinctively put out a hand to hold him off. But he took it and tugged her toward him. “Don’t you think we should explore what we could have between us?” Pulling her into his arms, he folded her firmly against him. Her hands splayed wide over his biceps. She intended to push him away, but her limbs felt weak and shaky, and when he didn’t release her, she simply stood in his embrace, feeling the erotic electricity that flowed from him to her. She was shockingly aware of his hard body against hers, of the checked power in his close hold.

  Jessie’s teeth were practically chattering with nerves. “I…I don’t know. I never thought about you—about me and you—as anything more than friends.” She felt tears fill her eyes yet again. “You’re the best friend I have in the whole world, and I don’t want to screw things up and lose you. I need you to be my friend, Ry.”

  Silence fell. Ryan didn’t move. He didn’t release her, nor did he tighten his arms. She kept her head down, knowing that if she raised her face to his right now this whole discussion would be moot, and their relationship would change forever. And despite the words of caution she’d just uttered, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like with Ryan. Would he be slow and gentle or as hot and wild as the sensations ripping through her right now? She saw again in her mind the light in his eyes and heard his deep, rough voice: Passion I can promise you.

  His hands were on her back, and as he shifted them slightly, rubbing gentle patterns over her sensitive flesh, she shuddered. Had she ever wanted to cast rational thought to the winds so badly? Her body warred with her mind for another long moment. But finally she heaved a deep sigh and pushed back from his embrace. This time he let her go.

  “No,” she said, trying to invest her tone with a firmness she didn’t feel. “This wouldn’t be right.” She turned away, hugging her arms tightly about herself. “I’m sorry.” She knew the words were inadequate, but her throat felt as if someone were squeezing it with a vise.

  Behind her she heard his footsteps as he went to the closet and took out his coat. Fabric rustled as he donned his outerwear, then he walked to her, stepping into her line of vision and lifting her chin with one finger. Jessie had been standing with her eyes closed, but she forced herself to open them and gaze into his blue ones.

  And the moment she did, she knew that nothing would be as it had been before. Awareness leaped and crackled between them like well-fed flames.

  “All right,” he said. “Friends it is. But the offer of marriage still stands. Think about it.”

  She nodded,
unable to trust her voice.

  He dropped his hand from her face, stepped away. “Good night.”

  Jessie didn’t sleep well that night. Or any night for the rest of the week. On Saturday she threw away the preliminary profiles of the donors. Although she didn’t believe the process carried the risks that Ryan thought it did, it seemed impersonal and distasteful to her now.

  On Sunday she walked through the Public Gardens. A young couple passed her, their faces alive with laughter as their toddler, awkward and stiff in layers of bulky winter clothing, ran in circles until she was dizzy. As the father scooped the pink-cheeked child into his arms, the baby squealed with laughter, and Jessie felt her heart contract with pain.

  Why shouldn’t she have that joy? Just because she hadn’t been lucky enough to find someone with whom she could share her life—

  Ah, but you had someone, her inner self reminded her. And you gave him away.

  Chip. She’d been courted by a star member of the football team during her first year of high school. At the time, she hadn’t given the guy behind the persona a serious thought. He’d been popular; every girl in the school had envied her. At fifteen, that was what it all had been about. In her naïveté, she’d never really thought about the fact that they had next to nothing in common. To her he’d represented safety. Security. Someone who loved her unconditionally, darn near worshipped her, for heaven’s sake. In her whole life there had never been anyone like that. Ryan had been her lifeline during her childhood, but he’d distanced himself when she began dating Chip, and she’d rarely seen him after he’d left for college. Looking back, she almost felt as if he’d abandoned her. Was it any wonder she had followed Chip south to school?

  It wasn’t until she’d gotten to college that she’d begun to grow and change, to realize that the world was a big place and her choices were limitless. And as she had, she’d realized that she could never make a life with Chip.

  She’d been fond of him, but she hadn’t loved him. To marry him would have been unfair to them both. She’d used him as a crutch for a very long time, and she prayed that he’d found some sweet girl and was married, that they were happily raising half a dozen little football players and cheerleaders.