Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan Read online

  And that thought brought her back to her present problem. She could have married and had children with Chip. But…something had stopped her. She hadn’t known at the time exactly why he wasn’t right. She’d just known he wasn’t.

  And after she’d settled down in Boston and gotten her shop established, she hadn’t found the right man, either.

  Will you marry me?

  Ryan’s words echoed over and over again in her head. Was it possible she’d been tempted to blurt out, “Yes!” for one ridiculous, impetuous instant?

  Familiarity, she decided. Ryan had known her forever. He knew all her warts and quirks. They had a number of interests in common. Living with Ryan would be comfortable in many ways.

  But as she remembered the breathless, shocking awareness that had swamped her when he’d taken her in his arms, the word comfortable wasn’t the one that seemed to apply.

  That line of thought was dangerous. Her mind shied away from any examination of exactly what had happened last night. Instead she focused on his refusal to help her in her quest for motherhood. She should have realized, would have, if she’d thought about it longer, that Ryan Shaughnessy would have difficulty with the concept of a biological child to which he had no rights or attachment.

  Ryan’s family had been a close and loving one. She should know. Hadn’t she sought refuge in Mrs. Shaughnessy’s plump arms more than once? Mr. Shaughnessy had been warm and boisterous, including her in the games of pitch-and-catch with Ryan and his older brother, tossing her high in the air just to hear her scream. And on the occasions when she’d eaten at the Shaughnessy house, the teasing camaraderie and open love in their home had never failed to amaze her.

  Her family had been very different. Her mother, as far as Jessie could tell, felt that raising a child was little more than a duty. Her grandparents regarded her as a trial, a punishment sent by God for some unfathomable crime. They had failed as parents when their only daughter had gotten herself pregnant and, even worse, refused to marry—or even name—the father of her baby.

  Unless they’d been a lot different during her mother’s childhood, Jessie thought it likely that her mother had succumbed to the first man ever to say a kind word to her. A mistake Jessie herself very nearly had made with Chip, although he’d been quite different from the man who’d apparently seduced and waltzed away from her mother.

  No, thank goodness she’d gotten smart. She wasn’t ever going to believe that a man was her ticket to fulfillment. She knew better.

  And where did that leave her? Alone, childless, aching for her life to mean something to somebody. Which was why, if she was honest with herself, she felt so strongly about having a child of her own.

  She thought again of her fears, weighed them against the certainty of years passing her by. Could she marry Ryan? Perhaps he was right about their friendship being a good basis for the marriage. But…what if she didn’t conceive? What would happen then? She had friends who had infertility problems, and the uncertainties put a strain on even the most devoted couple. What would happen to a couple like Ryan and her if something like that happened?

  And then it struck her. What if they compromised? What if she agreed to marry Ryan if, and only if, he gave her a baby? She hadn’t thought that her baby needed a father. After all, she’d survived without one. What her baby needed was love, and that she knew she could give it. But she also knew Ryan. He’d said marriage, and she knew he’d never go for anything less.

  And the thought of giving her child a warm, loving, complete family was very seductive. Maybe they could even have more than one child. Then it struck her—additional children would be conceived far more conventionally if this all came to pass. She’d be tacitly agreeing to a lasting sexual arrangement with Ryan. And in good conscience, she couldn’t pretend that would be a problem.

  The real problem might be keeping her hands off him.

  She shivered suddenly, though she was walking down Marlborough Street now at a brisk pace. Her mind racing, she considered the idea from all angles. As she reached the steps of her building, she nodded once, sharply, then went inside and headed straight for the phone.

  When Ryan’s deep voice said, “Hello?” though, for a moment her throat seized up, and she couldn’t speak.

  “Jessie? Is that you?” His voice was sharp enough to startle her into speech again.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Caller I.D.”

  “Oh.”

  Silence.

  “Jess? Did you call me for a reason or did you just want to breathe heavily into the phone?”

  “I want to talk to you again. About this baby stuff.”

  On the other end of the phone, he sighed. “I don’t believe there’s any point in talking it to death.”

  “I had an idea,” she said. “Could you meet me for dinner?”

  “Three meals in two days. All my adoring fans are going to start to worry.”

  “Maybe they should.”

  “Jess—”

  “Come on, Ryan. Live dangerously. The East Coast Grill? Seven o’clock?”

  “Wow. All the way over in Cambridge? I didn’t know you strayed that far from home.”

  “Very funny. Will you do it?”

  “All right,” he said. “But only because I know you’ll bug me to death until I listen to you. I’m telling you right up front that there is no way I am going to change my mind.”

  “I understand,” she said. “All I ask is that you listen.”

  When she arrived in a taxi at 7:05 he already was waiting. To her eternal amusement he was seated at the bar with a woman on each side of him apparently vying for his attention.

  Jessie walked up behind them and put her hands over his eyes. “Guess who?”

  “Hey, there.” He swiveled around on his stool to face her. “You’re early.”

  The women who’d been speaking to him were eyeing her with something less than friendliness. An imp of mischief seized her, and she placed her hands on either side of Ryan’s face, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Miss me?”

  “Always.” She hadn’t counted on his quick reflexes. His hands came up before she could draw away. One shackled her wrist, the other cradled the back of her head as he returned a second, much more leisurely kiss. His lips were warm and firm, molding her own as her heart thudded, and she nearly sank into the promise inherent in the lingering caress before she remembered who she was kissing and why. When he let her go, she drew back, flustered.

  He rose and settled a hand at her waist, turning to smile at the women as Jessie blinked and forced herself to focus. “It was nice meeting you.”

  As he seated her and moved around the small table, she sent him an easy grin, determined not to let him see she’d been shaken by that kiss. “Was I helpful?”

  “Infinitely.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket. “I was being accosted.”

  “Well,” she said, “it’s not every day a girl gets to meet an eminently available hunk.”

  “If I hear that phrase out of you one more time,” he said, leaning forward with mock menace, “your derriere is going to meet my eminently available hand.”

  She smiled brilliantly. “Ooooh, sounds like fun. Promise?”

  His eyes narrowed, and that quickly the playful moment metamorphosed into something entirely different, something dark and dangerous with undercurrents of an intensity that caught her breath in her throat.

  “Okay. You folks want to order drinks?” The arrival of the server broke through the stillness between them.

  She sat quietly as Ryan ordered their drinks. What was happening to her? And to the comfortable, familiar relationship she’d had with Ryan?

  “So,” he said when the waitress had returned with their drinks and taken their dinner orders, “what new wrinkle in your mind was so urgent that you had to see me again tonight?”

  “I was thinking about what you said.” She spoke slowly, cautiously.

  �
��I’ve said a lot of things to you,” he said, unhelpful. “Want to be a tad more specific?”

  “About marriage.” The words fell between them, their ripples widening, breaking up the smooth surface of the conversation.

  His eyes grew more intense, bluer; she felt like a mouse caught in the cat’s corner. “What about it?”

  “Well, I was thinking.” She stopped, swallowed. “If you were to donate—and I did get pregnant—we could maybe get married once the baby was born. I mean, it would be stupid of us to marry assuming we were going to be parents. A lot of things can happen during pregnancy and I wouldn’t want to trap you into anything if it didn’t—”

  “Stop.” He held up a hand, palm out. “You’re babbling.”

  “Sorry. I’m nervous.” She fell silent, biting her lip. “I just thought—”

  His eyebrows rose. “You’ve been doing quite a lot of thinking lately.” He picked up his wineglass and gently swirled the Merlot they were drinking, tilting the glass and absently studying the color of the wine. “Let me see if I understand what you’re proposing. I donate sperm. You, hopefully, get pregnant. If the pregnancy goes to term and we have a child, we marry.”

  She nodded, too embarrassed to look him in the eye but relieved that he’d grasped the idea. “Exactly.”

  “No.” He sat back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other.

  “No?” Startled, she leaned forward and glared at him. “Why not? I thought you would be happy. This way we both get what we want.”

  “It makes me uncomfortable,” he said. “Where’s the guarantee that you’ll keep your end of the bargain once you get what you want?”

  She was stung by the implication that he didn’t trust her. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Have I ever given you reason to distrust my word?”

  He shrugged. “No. But this is a life-changing discussion we’re having here, not a promise to water my plants while I’m out of town.”

  She had to admit he had a point. But she was still annoyed. “So call a lawyer if I’m so sneaky. I’ll sign a contract.”

  Ryan was silent. His eyes regarded her intently until she was the first to look away. Finally he sighed. “Okay, here’s another compromise. You get pregnant. If everything goes all right for the first couple of months…”

  “The first trimester,” she said, showing off her knowledge.

  “Right. If everything goes well through the first trimester, we marry then. I don’t want my child born out of wedlock.”

  She sighed. “You are an amazingly old-fashioned fuddy-duddy.”

  His broad shoulders rose and fell again. “An eminently available fuddy-duddy, though. There are lots of women who would leap at the chance to marry me and have my babies.”

  It would have been the perfect opportunity to say, Fine. Let one of them have you. But her tongue wouldn’t wrap itself around the words. Something inside her recoiled from the idea of another woman bearing his children. And hadn’t she decided he’d be a perfect biological father for her own? A perfect father in many ways? A perfect husband— She cut off that thought before it took root.

  “It’s not just being old-fashioned,” he said suddenly. “I’m helping you out. You can return the favor. If I’m married, there won’t be any more of those annoying articles.”

  He had a point. And the reminder that this would be something of an exchange of favors made her feel better. It was nice that she wasn’t the only one getting something out of the arrangement. “All right.” She spoke slowly, cautiously. “I guess we could get married if the early part of the pregnancy goes well.”

  He nodded once. “It’s a deal, then.”

  The waiter returned with their dinners. Ryan had the barbecue that had been one of the Grill’s outstanding specialties for years. She’d ordered the Grilled Sausage from Hell. Though it was wonderful, she could only manage to eat about half of it, so Ryan polished off the rest as well as his own meal.

  “So what happens next?” he asked as their plates were removed.

  “I’m monitoring my cycle. I’ll use an ovulation kit to determine when we go. I’m pretty regular so it’ll probably be the middle of next week.”

  “Stop.” He held up a hand. “I know the rest. We talked about artificial insemination when Wendy and I were going through this, but ultimately we learned her fallopian tubes were blocked.”

  She nodded. The same sense of shock and hurt that she’d felt when he’d first told her about Wendy’s and his infertility treatments rolled through her again. “I cannot believe you never told me about that.”

  He looked away. “Like I said, it was a very personal thing.”

  And none of her business. She read between the lines. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be nosy.” She hesitated. “I guess it bothers me a little that there are these big parts of your life about which I know nothing. We shared just about everything growing up, didn’t we?”

  “Not by a long shot.” His answer was quick and sharp. “After you started dating Mr. Football Star, there was a whole lot we didn’t share.”

  She was stunned by the vehemence in his tone. The Ryan she recalled from high school had been absorbed in academics and weight lifting. He’d rarely sought her out and often had little to say when she’d made time for him. Was it possible she’d hurt him somehow? Offended him without realizing it? She wanted to ask him, but she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to open such a can of worms. “Maybe we should just agree to start from this moment,” she said carefully. “If this works out, we could be sharing a family in less than a year.”

  He nodded without looking at her. But after a moment he reached across the table and took her hand. “Good idea,” he said quietly. His palm engulfed hers and his thumb rubbed across the back of her knuckles gently, creating a warmth that sizzled up her arm into her bloodstream. A heavy pool of heat settled low in her abdomen and she shifted slightly in her seat. “I have a good feeling about this,” he told her. “We’re going to be good together…in lots of ways.”

  The heat in her belly expanded, and her breathing grew short as her imagination shot vivid mental pictures of one way they could be good together across her mental screen. “I, ah, you’re probably right.” Hastily she pulled her hand from his. “Well, I have to work tomorrow so we’d better call it a night.”

  But as they parted outside the Grill, the impact of exactly how much her life was going to change as a result of this night hit her squarely in the face. She turned to Ryan, holding out both hands. “Thank you.”

  He smiled, his dimples carving deep grooves in his cheeks as he took her hands and squeezed them lightly. “Thank you, Jess. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “All right.” And as she hopped into her compact car for the short drive home, she found that she was practically jittering with excitement and happiness. But if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t entirely the prospect of finally realizing her desire to have a baby that was at the heart of it.

  She was going to marry Ryan if things went well. And though she never would have suspected it, she found the idea held immense appeal.

  Three

  She called him the following morning to tell him that the fertility center had confirmed that next week would be the best time for her to conceive if he wanted to “do it” right away. As he punched the off button on his office speaker phone, he knew a moment’s relief that she still wanted to go through with the plan. He’d been afraid she would change her mind and go for an anonymous donor.

  Ryan could have told her what he really wanted to do right away, but he had the feeling that might just send Jessie running for the hills. He wondered what was going through her mind at the thought of marriage to him. Had it even struck her yet that this would be permanent, a real marriage in every way? They hadn’t talked at all about where they would live. About how many children they wanted or about whether or not she wanted to continue working.

  About sex.

  He was
pretty sure she’d never thought about sex, about lovemaking, in connection with him before. In high school he’d been merely her pal, the guy next door. She’d begun dating the football player when she was a freshman, and they’d seen less of each other from that time on. Not that she had noticed.

  No, he’d been the only one to suffer. He’d left for college at the end of the following year, but he’d kept tabs on her during his infrequent visits home, each time hoping against hope that she was free. Looking back, he didn’t know if he’d have had the nerve to ask her out even if she had been, but it had been a moot point. Two years later she’d graduated and promptly headed south to Alabama.

  That was when he’d let reality seep in around the edges of his dreams of a life with Jessie. And with reality had come Wendy. If Wendy had lived, he’d have remained faithful. His feelings for Jessie never would have gone anywhere outside his own mind.

  But Wendy was gone. And Jessie had come to him with a proposition most sane men would have laughed at. Not him. Not with her.

  How did she feel about him? Was there any hope that she wanted him as much as he wanted her? His euphoria faded. For the first time he fully appreciated the situation he was in. For years Jessie had been out of reach, and he’d resigned himself to a life without her. Suddenly he was faced with the possibility of sharing the rest of his life with her. But still, sweet as that thought was, it wasn’t enough. It was a frustrating feeling for a man who controlled a significant financial empire, a man who’d met most challenges with success in the past decade.

  The memory of her appalled reaction when he first mentioned marriage still stung. And last night, she’d almost hyperventilated when he’d obliquely mentioned sex. There definitely had been times when he’d have sworn there was attraction between them—was it just his longing that made it so?

  No, he was pretty sure she felt something for him. Tonight, when he’d been holding her hand, she’d looked dazed and distinctly…aroused, just as she had earlier when he’d kissed her and her mouth had softened and clung to his. He’d found himself cursing the public place and the table between them. And when he’d nearly kissed her in her apartment that night, she’d trembled in his arms, and he’d felt the battle she was fighting with herself. She’d wanted him then. She’d wanted to lift her face to his and let the attraction roaring between them take over…but she’d backed off. This wouldn’t be right. Why not? What was she hiding from him? Or was she hiding from herself?