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His eyes bored into her. “Let me make this clear—you are having my baby. Which means I want you.”
Hot excitement fired through her veins, steamrolling every other thought into oblivion. She tried to will it away but it kept on coming, a constant pounding wave that alternately thrilled yet alarmed her.
With a deep breath she finally managed to gain some modicum of control. Cal was simply claiming his child, that was all. He just wanted what she could give him.
So why was she acting like a jittery fool in love?
She dragged her eyes away, her mind spinning. Why couldn’t he be the man who’d stormed in her door and accused her of blackmail? At least that way she could refuse his demands with a clear conscience.
Bottom line—losing Jindalee was not an option. And her other choices included bankruptcy and poverty. She also had Jillian to think about; she’d convinced her aunt to sell her little café and come live with her. And Cal was offering more than financial security, a chance to keep the land and ensure the Reilly legacy stayed in the family. He was willing—no, demanding—to be a presence in her child’s life. A man who wanted all the responsibilities that being a father entailed.
That was more than a lot of children got these days, herself included.
She finally glanced up, only to catch Cal studying her with an intensity that made her itch to smooth her hair and check her teeth.
“What kind of arrangement did you have in mind?” she said now.
“A legally binding contract. You marry me and in return I’ll pay off all your debts, plus give you any assistance necessary to see this place turn a profit.”
“I’m not handing this place over to some manager. The land and property remain in my name.”
“Naturally. But I do expect you to be in Sydney whenever I need you, to be available for functions, dinners and such.”
“No.” Ava swallowed. A quickie wedding was one thing. But to publicly flaunt it, to pretend?
He crossed his arms with a small sigh, a sure indication he’d lost patience. “Yes. Did you think I’d just give you money and that’d be it until the child was born?”
“I thought…”
“Well, you thought wrong.” His jaw tightened. “This is my stipulation.”
Any hope of taking the money and keeping a low profile quietly disintegrated. “So I’m to be your arm decoration.”
“My fiancée,” he corrected. “You will be my wife, the mother of my child, and I expect you to conduct yourself accordingly. As I will.”
She blinked. “Which means?”
“No unscripted interviews, no tell-all book deals if and when we divorce.” His eyes suddenly darkened. “And no lovers while we’re married.”
A surprised breath tore at her throat. “I need to think.” Quickly she rose and the room tilted beneath her feet. Just as she grabbed the longue, Cal’s hand shot out to steady her.
The shock was so instantaneous, so unexpected, that she gasped. As his long fingers curled around her upper arm, her treacherous flesh caved. A sudden flicker of heat sparked in her belly, sending desire across her skin, making her muscles ache with want.
As if her mind could sense the thin thread of control she teetered on, that night came flooding back in hot, bright technicolor. His eager mouth on hers, on her neck. His sure, skilful hands cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples into peaking hardness. And his hot passionate breath trailing a path of seduction from her navel down to—
She pulled away, refusing to meet his eyes, barely managing a “thank you.” Inside, she tried to squelch the spurt of panic but reality crashed in. If she wanted to save Jindalee, she had no other choice.
She rubbed her cheek, surprised at the heat beneath her hand. There was no denying her body’s reaction to his simple touch. She wanted him. Even after just one night, after his accusations and demands, she wanted him.
With an inward groan, she crossed her arms. “Fine. After you leave for Sydney I’ll keep you updated on the baby’s progress. Of course I will—”
“No. I’m flying home this afternoon. You’re coming with me.”
“Today? That wasn’t part of the deal.”
Cal paused, as if chewing back his words with infinite patience. “Being my wife means social functions, outings, the whole shebang. Starting immediately. I’ve also booked you in to see a top paediatrician on Tuesday.”
She frowned. “Do I have any say in this?”
“On this, no. Which reminds me…” he flipped open his phone and dialled, exchanged a few words, then hung up. “We’ll be back here next Sunday with my team,” he said. “They’ll need a tour, plus your existing marketing and advertising strategy. I assume you do have one?”
She straightened her shoulders with an indignant glare. “Yes.”
“I’ve also authorised payment of your loans and any other outstanding debts.” He shoved his hands on his hips. “Anything else?”
Howsabout you build a time machine and go back about nine weeks? The words bubbled up in her throat but she quickly swallowed them. Mutely she shook her head.
“Ava? Are we in agreement?”
She nearly whimpered as Cal’s deep voice flowed over her, kicking up her pulse another notch. Stop. Please stop talking, before I completely lose it. Her feet rocked, her heart hammering in her chest.
“What happens after the baby’s born?” she said hoarsely. “What if we…decide it’s not working?” What if you decide playing daddy isn’t fun anymore? What if I end up hating you? What if you fall in love with someone? Her heart twisted for a second, surprising her.
“Thinking about divorce before we’re even married?” He quirked one eyebrow up and she flattened her mouth until her lips hurt.
“Yes.”
He gave her a slow, considering look. “If that time comes, I’m open to discussing it. Not before. I’ve put a clause in the prenup to address that. But regardless of what we decide, I’m still that child’s father.”
The underlying thread of possessiveness was undeniable. If that didn’t drop her stomach, then the “if the time comes” bit did. Of course the time would come. A country girl and a big-city billionaire were no more suited than chalk and cheese. No one these days based a marriage purely on financial gain. No one except her, that is.
She nodded, even as perverse disappointment rioted through her. “So you’re asking me to marry you?”
Cal dragged his eyes away from the hollow of her neck to focus on her eyes. “Does this mean you’re saying yes?”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” she repeated, crossing her arms across her chest. Unfortunately, it only drew his attention to her breasts, which were now pushing seductively up from the deep V of her buttoned shirt.
Cal’s words inexplicably stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. Then he suddenly recalled their earlier conversation. He hadn’t asked her. He cleared his throat. “Ava. Will you marry me?”
She took a breath, almost as if drawing in strength. “Yes. But with stipulations.”
“Go on.”
She flushed but kept right on going. “Any major decisions, any changes concerning Jindalee must be first approved by me.”
Cal frowned. “My team is better equipped to decide—”
“This is my land, Cal.” She levelled an unwavering gaze at him. “I get the final say-so.”
“Okay,” he conceded, finally seating himself on the arm of a sturdy one seater. “I’ll have my solicitor put it in the contract.”
Ava stilled, waiting for a sign, anything that would let her know she was either making a colossal mistake or doing the right thing. Nothing. And as the seconds ticked by, she took another breath, then sat.
“I plan to be a hands-on mother, which means I won’t be handing this baby over to a nanny just so I can swan off to parties with you.”
His brief flash of surprise quickly disappeared with a cool nod. “Understood.”
“And…” She faltered. “One more thing. The sleeping arrangements.” One eyebrow kinked up but he said nothing. Under his scrutiny she felt the traitorous heat bloom across her skin. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to…well…”
“Have sex?” He leaned back, carefully crossing his ankle over one knee as his mouth twitched. His nonchalant amusement only deepened her embarrassment.
“Well, yes.”
He shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
Ava nodded, mortification clogging her throat. Of course it’s what she wanted. He thought she was a woman who got herself pregnant just to blackmail him. She had more self-respect than to jump into bed with a man who believed she was a common criminal.
Yet his quick acquiescence seared the edges of her womanly pride. As she studied him, she recalled an article she’d once read…something about pregnant women being a huge turn-off for some men. She’d never pegged Cal for one of those men. But then, they’d been lovers for only one fleeting night—what did she really know about her husband-to-be?
She felt the blood drain from her face. Her husband. To be.
“Then it’s settled.” He leaned forward, hand outstretched and for a second she just stared at him. At his questioning look, she quickly took his hand, sealing the deal and her fate with one firm handshake.
Yet her mind wasn’t on the deal they’d just struck—it was on the way his long fingers wrapped around hers, enveloping her in heat and…something more, something almost protective. Something that tugged at the deepest part of her, that spoke to every teenage yearning, every wish list of happy-ever-afters she’d ever made. Here was a man in every sense of the word—strong, determined, a provider. The sheer command of his very presence took her breath away.
“Ava?”
With a jolt she realized she still held his hand and worse, she’d been stroking it with her thumb.
With a gasp she tried to pull back, but he refused to let her go. Instead she stood but he followed her, his hand still imprisoning hers.
“Ava…” he trailed off, almost as if rethinking his next words.
“Cal, please.” Please don’t? Or please do? Her head said one thing, her body another, and from the sudden awareness sparking in his dark eyes, she knew which one he’d chosen to hear.
Please do.
He drew her to him with all the skill and confidence of a man who knew she wouldn’t refuse. He cupped her elbows, pinning her to his chest, to that warm, hard wall of muscle beneath soft cotton that cried out to be touched, caressed. Kissed.
She closed her eyes as heat and desire turned her brain to mush, waiting in willing anticipation for his lips to claim hers. A tremble started up in her belly, looping and swirling as she felt his warm breath gently swoop over her mouth. Her heart kicked up the tempo, beating hard in her throat, in her head. In a sharp rush, she exhaled, then…then…
Nothing.
“Look at me.”
His sinful voice sent a flutter of goosebumps over her skin. Slowly, she did as he asked.
Danger. She felt it crackle in the air as his chest pressed intimately into her breasts. His eyes held the remembrance of mutual pleasures, everything she’d walked away from, everything in her tortured dreams.
A deep, burning need seared Cal a thousand times over as he stared into her upturned face. To his stunned amazement, he realized he wanted her, right here, right now. After weeks of denial, his body ached for her like he’d been cloistered in a monastery for years. He shouldn’t want her. Damn, he didn’t even trust her.
Pride nipped at his heels, giving him the strength to release her. With regret dogging his retreat, he gritted his teeth.
“If you want me, Ava,” he growled, unable to disguise the lust in his voice, “then you’ll have to say it.”
Chapter Three
Her eyes, heavy with arousal, suddenly flew wide open. “What?”
She looked so different from the first time they’d met—more earthy, more sensual. Yet he could still see a glimpse of the woman he’d bedded underneath the denim veneer: the way her eyes tilted up at the corners, the ripe lush mouth that was heaven to taste. Lord, he just wanted to peel off that snug shirt, yank down her jeans and take her with that sexy midnight hair falling around her shoulders, her lips whispering his name.
With a soft curse, he shoved a hand through his hair and gave her his back.
“You want me to ask you for sex?”
The disgust in her voice had him whirling back to the angry indignation tightening her face.
“You actually want me to beg?” She breathed, incredulous. “Of all the conceited, arrogant…! Yes, I’ve agreed to marry you but I am not going to pander to your ego by—”
“Hang on.” He put up a hand in alarm. “I never said—”
“—begging you for anything! First you accuse me of blackmail and now this. I get it—it’s some sort of punishment for—”
“Stop!”
His command only angered her more. She pulled herself up to her full five-foot-three and jammed her hands on her hips, her face tight with passionate fury. “I will not stop! And just because I’m having your baby doesn’t mean—”
“Would you stop yelling at me?” Cal grabbed her arms, shocking them both into silence.
“Let’s get something straight,” he managed to grind out. “We both know we’re attracted to each other—as evidenced nine weeks ago.” He thought he detected a glimmer of something in her blue eyes but couldn’t be certain. “But I’m not about to force myself on you because some piece of paper says I’m your husband. If you want me in your bed, then it’s your decision and yours only. Understood?”
“And what,” she whispered hoarsely, her eyes wide, “makes you think I’d want you when you so clearly don’t trust me?”
They remained still for a second, then two. Then, as if she realized he still held her, her arms tensed beneath his hands.
He swiftly backed off, abruptly changing the subject. “We have a flight to Sydney in a couple of hours. You need to pack.”
“I have a business to run.”
“You also have a family to meet. Don’t you have an aunt who can look after this place for a few days?”
“How—” Ava stopped. Cal finding out about the baby was one violation she’d get over. But digging into her past without even giving her the option of what she wanted to reveal? Her mouth felt bitter and dry. Dear lord, what had she gotten herself into?
As if she was standing outside someone else’s life looking in, Ava sat on the balcony of Cal’s Circular Quay penthouse suite, taking in Sydney Harbour spread out like a picture-perfect postcard thirty floors below.
His place was something out of Architectural Digest. The elevator doors had swooshed open to reveal a massive living room in varying shades of cream and white, a warm chocolate couch opposite a solid rustic coffee table in the centre. Along the right wall, separating the bedrooms, ran a stunning tropical aquarium. In silent awe she’d barely registered Cal’s brief tour, until they’d walked through the dining area and into an immaculate kitchen. Too immaculate.
“Do you cook?” she’d asked him. He’d just shrugged and said, “I eat out, mostly.”
