Книга - Her Baby’s Father

Her Baby's Father
Katherine Garbera


Reese Howard's directive was to deliver one very fertile Sabrina MacFadden to the local sperm bank and gather titillating tidbits for his article. Under no circumstance was he to kiss the delectable Sabrina senseless, father her unborn child, then force her to be his bride. Okay, so he'd gotten a little off course…but why was he starting to believe in the promise of this woman's touch, his family, in love…?









“Are You Sure You Want To Make Love With Me?”


“Yes,” Sabrina said with no hesitation.

Reese’s body screamed, Take this woman, now! But his mind cautioned him to warn her. She was the kind of woman who deserved a devoted guy and a wedding. He wasn’t that man.

“It can only be for tonight.”

“I know. I want to be with you,” she said.

Then Sabrina moved forward and touched his cheek. No one had ever touched him with such tenderness, such exquisite sweetness. And Reese knew instantly that he’d never be satisfied with just one night….


Dear Reader,

This April of our 20th anniversary year, Silhouette will continue to shower you with powerful, passionate, provocative love stories!

Cait London offers an irresistible MAN OF THE MONTH, Last Dance, which also launches her brand-new miniseries FREEDOM VALLEY. Sparks fly when a strong woman tries to fight her feelings for the rugged man who’s returned from her past. Night Music is another winner from BJ James’s popular BLACK WATCH series. Read this touching story about two wounded souls who find redeeming love in each other’s arms.

Anne Marie Winston returns to Desire with her emotionally provocative Seduction, Cowboy Style, about an alpha male cowboy who seeks revenge by seducing his enemy’s sister. In The Barons of Texas: Jill by Fayrene Preston, THE BARONS OF TEXAS miniseries offers another feisty sister, and the sexy Texan who claims her.

Desire’s theme promotion THE BABY BANK, in which interesting events occur on the way to the sperm bank, continues with Katherine Garbera’s Her Baby’s Father. And Barbara McCauley’s scandalously sexy miniseries SECRETS! offers another tantalizing tale with Callan’s Proposition, featuring a boss who masquerades as his secretary’s fiancé.

Please join in the celebration of Silhouette’s 20th anniversary by indulging in all six Desire titles—which will fulfill your every desire!

Enjoy!






Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire




Her Baby’s Father

Katherine Garbera







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




KATHERINE GARBERA


Writing romance novels is a dream come true for Katherine Garbera. As a child she was never without a book and once gave up pleasure reading for Lent—“It was the longest forty days of my life.” She wrote her first novel to prove to herself that she could do it, and was hooked on writing. She is a past winner of the Georgia Romance Writers Maggie Award and a member of Romance Writers of America. When she is not writing, Katherine spends time with her husband of ten years and their two children. She also enjoys counted cross-stitch, playing the flute, swimming and tae kwon do, which she does with her seven-year-old daughter. She loves to hear from her readers, and you can write to her at P.O. Box 1806, Davenport, FL 33836.


This book is dedicated to the memory of Rose Wilkinson, my grandmother. Thanks for sharing your love of the past and of our heritage with me. Thanks for making me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, even though I’m not, and mostly thank you for your love. I miss you!




Acknowledgments


Thanks to Bob Allen for sharing his knowledge of boats with me and taking time out of his busy schedule to answer all of my questions. Any errors in nautical terms are my own.

Because this story is at its heart about family, I want to thank mine for all the gifts they’ve given me. My parents, who’ve given me the gift of time to write by watching my children. My sisters for giving me the gifts of love and support and reminding me why we need our family around us always. My grandfather, who is my connection with the past and a great lover of all sports. My paternal grandmother, who has given me a friend to share reading with. Lastly, my husband, who reminds me every day why the love of a good man is important to all of us.




Contents


Chapter One (#u43ed41e4-5cc2-569e-b7f0-1f145aa0649d)

Chapter Two (#u3d984476-da6a-5442-a2c9-792c5f316ba3)

Chapter Three (#u51c1b773-f74f-5426-aa65-9aec24dd1f9b)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




One


She was late. Reese Howard was punctual to a fault. He’d grown up always missing appointments and being left behind, so it was a passion of his. In fact, it was a pet peeve and it added fuel to the simmering fire he felt toward this assignment.

All his life he’d worked to break out of the mold his childhood had shaped for him. Though he hadn’t been destined for success, success had become his. But at what price?

Not even thirty-five, and he had chronic high blood pressure; his doctor had recommended retirement due to a history of heart disease in his family and his workaholic habits. Instead of retiring, he’d changed career paths midstream, leaving a primo job at the Los Angeles Times as an investigative reporter. Going from a man in the thick of things to a fluff-article writer.

This new assignment for the Life-styles section of California Magazine, a lame story series titled “Artificial Insemination—Wave of the Future,” made him wince.

He glanced again at his watch, cursing this ridiculous assignment. He knew his anger was directed more toward himself and the circumstances that had led him here than at the late Ms. MacFadden.

It was a hot summer day. He wanted to be out on the Time Lapse, his thirty-foot yacht, skimming San Francisco Bay instead of lurking outside an artificial insemination clinic. The breeze blew across the bay, stirring the hair at the back of his neck. Reese leaned his head against the sun-warmed stone wall. Feeling older than he had a right to, he breathed deeply and tried to relax.

But he couldn’t relax. He felt like a pervert—afraid someone would see him and think he was a donor.

It grated on him in a core way that sperm banks existed for single women. He understood how a couple experiencing infertility might need to visit a place like this, but a woman on her own—never. A man’s duty was to get his mate pregnant.

Even as the thought rolled through his mind, he knew it was chauvinistic. But there was a reason why God had created two sexes and put them on Earth together, and it wasn’t so that they could procreate without ever touching.

Though he wasn’t domesticated and would probably never have any offspring, his male pride chafed at the idea of a woman having a child on her own. He knew a lot of men dropped the ball on the fatherhood front, but that didn’t mean there weren’t a lot of stand-up guys ready to sign on for the long haul. There were enough guys that sperm banks weren’t necessary.

His magazine had arranged to pay for the procedure for a woman, Sabrina MacFadden, to ensure that she’d tell them all the details of her decision. She must be desperate—probably thirty-eight, never been with a man and looked as appealing as a tight end after a particularly grueling play-off game.

He’d left L.A. for this?

Squinting against the late-afternoon sun, he propped himself against the side of the building to wait for the MacFadden woman. A loud thumping beat of music drew his attention to the parking lot. A classic ’69 Mustang convertible pulled neatly into a front parking spot.

The top was down and the driver wore a bright red scarf tied around her hair and big, flashy sunglasses. She stepped out of the car and removed the covering from her head. Long reddish-brown hair fell in waves around her shoulders. He wanted to bury his hands in her thick curls.

Oh, yeah.

She reached into the car, then pulled out a navy suit jacket. As she tugged it on, the silk shell she wore pulled tight across her breasts. Reese knew he should look away, but he couldn’t.

The woman walked like a dream. Reese briefly considered ditching the assignment and seducing her into going home with him. She was the embodiment of a dream he’d had when he’d been sixteen. His favorite classic car and a sexy woman, both in overdrive.

Pig, he thought.

The woman moving toward him had endless legs. They seemed to start at her armpits and go on forever. The straight skirt ended at mid-thigh and crept upward the tiniest bit with each step she took. He’d never seen such perfect thighs. He felt that she was a dream come to life. He fantasized about those legs as she strode toward him with the fluid grace of a dancer. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a bad day, after all.

The fitted skirt molded to her hips like a second skin. Longing to caress her, he shoved his hands into his pockets. A shadow blocked her face from view, leaving the mundane detail of her identity to his fantasy.

He imagined they were on a deserted beach and she wore a skimpy bikini. Realistically, he assumed her body wouldn’t be as good-looking under her clothes as it was dressed in that sexy bit of nothing his imagination had supplied, but his lusty mind filled in all the details. She would look like a cross between Cindy Crawford and Kathy Ireland, but not too perfect, because perfection was its own evil. She’d have the mind of a nuclear physicist and she’d bake like Betty Crocker, because every woman should know how to cook.

Knowing his eyes were masked by the mirrored shades of his aviator sunglasses, he continued to ogle her body as she stopped in front of him. A soft summer breeze ruffled her hair and carried the scent of flowers to him.

“Excuse me?” she said.

Her designer sunglasses hid her eyes and half of her face, but her nose was perky. He liked that. With her body, classic features would have been overkill.

“Yes?”

“Are you Reese Howard?” she asked, the words reaching his ears in slow motion.

Ah, the fantasy continues. Maybe he’d been in the sun too long. Her mouth intrigued him. He had to shake off his lethargy. But more than anything he wanted to kiss those lips, especially her full bottom lip, which looked as if it were begging for a man’s caress. To nibble there before delving deeper and exploring the secret recesses of her mouth. He wanted to feel that mouth move under his as he thoroughly plundered it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great. I’m Sabrina MacFadden. Sorry I’m late.”

She held out her hand and he responded automatically with a handshake. The touch of her delicate fingers shot sparks from his arm to his groin. The sun must have made him dizzy, because never before had touching a woman had such an immediate reaction on his body. Her fingers were long and fine-boned. Her fragile, feminine grip made him feel like a big brute—a masculine warrior. It brought to the fore all of his gut instincts—conquer her and make her completely his.

She removed her sunglasses with her free hand. He stared into eyes the color of the deep Caribbean Sea where he’d spent last summer. Vulnerable eyes that seemed to invite him closer to her while begging him to stay away. Eyes that reminded him of home—not the house he’d spent his childhood in, but that deep sated feeling for which he’d always secretly longed.

Realizing he’d never responded to her, he muttered, “No problem. Let’s go across the street to the Bay Side Café and we’ll start our interview.”

Big problem. This woman was messing with his libido and his protective instincts. He didn’t like it. She was supposed to be older, more maidenly and about as tempting as three-day-old bread. She was young, sexy, vibrant; alive in a way he’d forgotten how to be.

The only time he came close to that feeling anymore was when he was doing something dangerous. Rappelling without a partner in the dead of night, driving his motorcycle through Devil’s Pass at ninety, hanging on by sheer guts. A sense of purity around this woman reminded him of the fleetingness of his own life.

He cupped her elbow to help her across the street. She stiffened. Okay, he knew she didn’t need help but he’d wanted to touch her. Longed to feel her smooth, elegant arm under his hand. He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her flush against his body.

Reese dropped her arm. Hell, he was a professional. He didn’t get involved with his interview subjects. When the light changed and they crossed the street, he shortened his stride to allow her to walk comfortably. Mario, the owner, spotted him and gave him the thumbs-up sign when he saw Ms. MacFadden. Reese held her chair as she seated herself at the outdoor café.

She was the kind of woman men noticed, Reese realized. Certainly not the kind of woman who’d have to have a child on her own. If only she wanted to stay single and childless, he thought. He assured himself that once they sat down and talked she’d lose her appeal.

He’d played the field for a long time. He’d worked hard in L.A. but had partied hard as well. There had never been time for a serious relationship, which was fine with him. He acknowledged that most women seemed the same to him. There was no longer the thrill of meeting and discovering something new.

But here it was. And stronger than he’d ever experienced before because it was so unexpected. Like the excitement he’d found only in his former work, and in the danger he’d chased on sheer rock mountain faces and rivers of roiling white water. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long, long time.

And a woman was making him feel that way.

Not a drugged-out street thug who mistook him for a cop, or even the wild ocean in the middle of an unexpected storm or dangerous rapids on the raging Colorado. It was a woman!

Please, God, let her be ditzy.

Sabrina MacFadden fiddled nervously with her water glass. Reese Howard was not the type of man she’d pictured. She hadn’t expected to feel a spark of desire when they’d touched. She shook hands all the time in her role as secretary to the vice president of sales. It was the kind of job that demanded lots of interaction and hand-to-hand contact, but nothing, nothing had prepared her for the shock she’d felt. More like a sense of rightness. A feeling that she’d met the yin to her yang.

He should have been some stereotypical newspaperman who looked like he belonged in another era instead of the muscle-bound guy sitting across from her. This guy probably had never encountered an obstacle he couldn’t conquer.

His biceps bulged when he pulled over an extra chair. She felt like a ninety-pound weakling despite the fact that she worked out. Well okay, jazzercise really only worked if you went every week, but still.

She’d never felt so feminine. Never been this close to a man whose testosterone level was so high she could almost smell it. He was a man’s man. The kind of guy who could walk into a roughhouse-roadside bar and feel at home.

His touch at her elbow when they’d crossed the street had burned through her thin summer suit jacket. For a minute she’d forgotten why she’d given up on men. But the answer rushed back. There was no mythical Mr. Right waiting out there for her. Just good-looking guys ready for a “good time” and then goodbye. Reese Howard would be no different, she reminded herself firmly.

“Do you like latte?”

“Yes,” she said. She’d become addicted to caffeine early in life when her maternal grandparents had fixed her “sweet coffee” in a demitasse.

He ordered fancy coffee for both of them, in a way that annoyed her. But she let it go because surely she’d annoyed him by being late. He probably needed to reestablish his position of control. Having worked with men throughout her career, she was used to the way they tried to hoard power and had learned to fight the big battles and let go of the little ones.

He propped his elbow on the table and watched her. It unnerved her. She wished she could see his eyes. Was he really looking at her? The mirrored shades showed her nothing but herself.

The woman looking back at her wasn’t one she embraced. It was a breezy day. Her hair seemed to have a will of its own, which dictated that it writhe around her head like Medusa’s snakes. Concerned that he’d give her a bad report to his boss, she tried unobtrusively to tame her hair with her hands.

Worry never solved anything. Calm down.

But she couldn’t. So much rode on the outcome of their initial meeting. What if he went back to his editors and told them to find a different woman for the artificial insemination article? She’d have to find a way to pay for it herself, and money was tight right now because she was saving to buy a house on Mount Tam. And banks liked to see money in your account before they lent you more money.

The only thing she owned of real value was the classic car her father had purchased for her the year she’d been born. And after his death two years ago she’d promised herself to never sell it. She would in an extreme emergency, but right now there was another option. An option that would bring her lifelong dream of being a mother to fruition.

She glanced out over the bay and remembered why she’d started making sacrifices. She had always wanted a large family, but her parents had been in their late forties when she’d been born and they hadn’t been able to have any more children. She missed her mom and dad, craving the bond of family the way some people craved money and others coveted power.

She craved children because a large hole in the center of her soul couldn’t be filled by work or dating. She needed to nurture a small being, to pass on the stories and skills she’d learned from her parents and leave behind a small piece of herself. And she wanted to start on her family before she was too old to enjoy a child.

Her failed marriage had proved the only way she’d have a family was to go out and create one herself. She needed the stability. She missed the love and caring. She wanted to be able to accomplish something meaningful before she died. She’d had one of her closest friends die last year from cancer. Sabrina felt everything happened for a reason. Marcia’s death had convinced Sabrina it was time to make changes. She wasn’t going to live forever.

The sun beat down on the back of her head, and despite an occasional breeze, she was hot. The sea air smelled sweet and she wished she were on the beach. Maybe holding hands with her faceless dream man. The one who always showed up in her fantasies but never in real life.

She wanted every detail of this interview to be perfect. Hopefully, the reporter would be so impressed by her, that he would make his editor understand why it was so important she have a child. She must make up for the ground she’d lost by being late. The magazine hadn’t paid for anything yet—this interview would be the deciding factor.

Once their lattes arrived, Reese removed a narrow pad from his back pocket. “Tell me about your decision to have a child by yourself.”

He removed his sunglasses, and she found herself staring into eyes the color of the darkest night. They had to be brown, she thought, but they were so dark they seemed black. The lines of his face showed signs of hard living and time in the sun. She’d always been attracted to outdoorsy men. Reese Howard was rugged and drop-dead gorgeous—and he’d been eyeing her when she’d walked up to him.

“I’m lonely,” she said at last, thinking of this past solitary Christmas. All of her friends spent the time with family, and though Kayla had insisted she’d be welcome with her family, Sabrina simply couldn’t spend the holiday with her friend.

It would have demonstrated to Kayla and the world what Sabrina didn’t have. It was then that she’d made her decision to have a child. The idea had been in her mind for months, but sitting in front of the gaily decorated Christmas tree by herself had focused her resolution.

He didn’t write that down. He set a ratty-looking pen on the table and leaned forward, bracing his weight on his folded arms. The breeze kicked up again and ruffled the hair that brushed the back of his collar. He needed a haircut, she thought.

“Lonely how?” he asked, his voice raspy. The kind of voice her faceless dream lover had. The sexy tone made her shiver inside her coat and she rubbed her arms to dispel the sensation.

She began to feel more at ease and practically forgot that this wasn’t a casual meeting between friends, but a business interview. He made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. What she had to say was important to him, she realized. “I have no family. Everyone at work has a family, some are close-knit, some complain about family members, and I have no one.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked out over the bay. Sailboats, wind surfers and water skiers peppered the water. “Are you an orphan?”

“Not really. But my parents died a few years ago.” She let the memory of her dad play through her mind. He’d often smelled sweetly of pipe tobacco, and his embrace had always engulfed her, making her feel cherished and safe in a way she hadn’t in a long time. And she missed her mom’s smile and warm understanding. She wanted one last hug from them, but knew, of course, she could never have it.

She longed to be a little person’s security blanket. The one thing that made a child feel safe in the middle of the night when scary monsters came to call. And later in life, when the teenage social scene left heartbreak, she wanted to soothe the hurt. She wanted to feel as if she was making a difference in someone’s life the way her parents had in hers. But more important, she wanted to share the joy of living with someone else. With family.

“I’m sorry,” he said. And she saw in his eyes that he really was. For an instant their gazes met and she felt that same current charge through her. Something shocking and unexpected, like a stream of warm water in the cool Pacific Ocean.

“Thanks. I still miss them,” she said. Tears burned the backs of her eyes but didn’t fall. She blinked several times and looked away.

“My dad is gone, too,” he said.

“What about your mom?” she asked, though it wasn’t her interview.

“She died giving birth to me,” he said in a way that didn’t encourage further questions.

She glanced back at him and was compelled to touch him. Taking his hand in hers, she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. He stared at her for a long minute before finally turning away.

Sabrina looked down at their hands, startled again by his size. His hands were tanned where hers were pale. His skin callused where hers was smooth. His touch comforting where her life had been lacking for so long.

She pulled her hand from his slowly, reluctant to stop touching him. Shoving her hands in her lap, she forced herself to be more businesslike. No matter how comfortable she felt with him, he wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t her soul mate no matter how much his deep eyes made him seem so. He wasn’t anything more to her than a stranger.

“Why is having a child on your own terms so important to you?” he asked.

Sabrina looked out at the sea and gathered her thoughts. She knew why she wanted a baby, but she’d never put it into words. It was more a feeling of something that was missing.

“I’m not sure I’ll say this right, but it’s like there’s this big part of me missing. My arms ache to hold a baby—not my friends’ or co-workers’, but my own.”

She glanced up to see if he understood what she was trying to say. It was impossible to tell from his expression. Her feelings about the baby were tied closely to the woman she’d dreamed of being when she was eighteen and about to be married.

She remembered standing in a church filled with family and friends and staring down the aisle at the man she thought would love her forever. The man she thought would father all four of the children she dreamed of having.

Now she once again felt like a woman on the cusp of change. But this time she was in control—and finally on the edge of having her dream come true. All she had to do was convince the man sitting across from her to grant this wish.

She reached for her latte, then took a deep swallow. She felt as if she’d regained the ground she’d lost by her tardiness.

“One last question and we’ll wrap this up,” he said, giving her a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Why don’t you want a man in your life?”




Two


Reese watched Sabrina choke on her coffee. Of course, he shouldn’t have asked the question at all. He felt like a killer whale bearing down on a sea lion. It was the type of probing question his editor Jeff had warned him to be careful of asking when interviewing her.

Her aqua-blue eyes reflected her hurt and she blinked several times. He acknowledged that he wouldn’t have asked in such a blunt way if she had been thirty-something, matronly and unappealing. While they’d sat in the sun-warmed sidewalk café, the bond between them had seemed to strengthen. As if their lives had been leading up to this moment and this meeting.

Electric shocks jumped between them each time they touched. And Reese felt off balance, as if a quake rolled through him, waking him from a slumber he hadn’t realized he’d been in. A slumber that had allowed him safety in relationships and safety in living because he’d kept part of himself detached.

He resented that she’d made him “feel,” because he’d done a good job of hiding his emotions, but this woman with her knockout figure, perky nose and aura of sadness touched him. He reassured himself he’d have to be a monster not to sympathize with her, but recognizing didn’t help. His life worked for him because he didn’t allow his emotions to rule him and he’d gotten used to being alone. There was a self-imposed barrier he always kept in place between himself and others.

“I want a family,” she said softly, as if confessing an important secret.

He pictured Sabrina with her own family. A complete family, not the one she was planning to have, but a fictionalized version with a stand-up guy for a husband and two kids. One on the husband’s shoulders, the other in her arms. Unexpectedly, he felt jealous that he wasn’t the stand-up guy with her.

“Isn’t there usually a mother and a father in a family?” he asked. He knew he was being a jerk. He should let her be. Give her space and peace. Don’t question her anymore.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you want a husband?” he asked bluntly. He couldn’t stop the questions from coming.

“I tried that once and it didn’t work.”

“Why not try again?”

“Why do you care?” she countered.

All right, lady, show me you have a backbone. “I think the readers will want to know.”

She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d expect to choose to be artificially inseminated. She looked like a lady who’d be more comfortable being married first and then bearing a child. Despite her professional clothing, there was something soft and sweet about Sabrina MacFadden.

“Well, your readers will have to be satisfied with the answers I’ve given you.”

“Ms. MacFadden, for the amount of money my magazine is spending we expect to delve deep into the heart of you,” he said.

“The heart?” she said, fiddling nervously with the heart-shaped charm on her necklace.

Her motions drew his gaze to her smooth, slim neck. He wondered if her skin would be as soft there as on her hand. Probably softer, he acknowledged. Would her floral perfume smell be stronger there? What would she taste like? He shifted back on his seat and stretched his legs to relieve the pressure in his crotch.

Damn.

He leaned forward, ignoring his reaction as best he could. “Yes, the heart.”

She sighed, picked up her sunglasses and slid them on. The large lenses hid half her face but didn’t conceal her as he sensed she wished they did.

“I have bad luck with men.”

How could she? She was the kind of woman most men lusted after. He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She was hedging—he knew it.

“I’m thirty,” she said.

This time there was a hopeful note in her voice, as if maybe he’d buy her answer and let her off the hook. No way. Any woman who caused this kind of internal havoc with him was going to have to suffer the same.

“Thirty is not too old to do it the old-fashioned way. How about the truth?” Something about this woman compelled him to delve deeper and deeper. To find out all of her secrets. To peel away the shells she used to protect herself and find her heart.

“I like to be in control. I hate having some man telling me what to do and where to go. And all my married friends don’t have that freedom. Plus the men I’m attracted to aren’t interested in being fathers.”

So, she wasn’t ditzy and she had spunk. Each layer he was revealing drew him deeper into her mystery. She was funny, gorgeous and successful, if her classic car was any indication—she didn’t need to be inseminated. But she’d made that choice.

He’d started his career as an investigative reporter because he loved solving puzzles and finding the commonality in the most juxtapositioned facts. He liked following a thought to its complicated conclusion and discovering the hidden desires that motivated people. These instincts had served him well while he’d worked the inner-city beat, and for the first time in his job as a life-styles writer he was hungry again, ready to delve, and dig, and expose.

He wanted to take her apart and find out how she ticked. Take away the pieces that were for show, the pieces that kept the world away, and find the true Sabrina MacFadden.

The thought propelled him to his feet. He didn’t get involved with “good” women. Sure, he dated, but it was the usual bar-scene-one-night-stand type of woman. Women who wanted a family didn’t appeal to him. He was a bachelor and planned on playing the field until he was too old to enjoy sex. Hopefully, into his eighties.

She stood as well. He tossed some bills on the table to cover the check. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her curls swayed in the wind, and he watched as she gathered the thick mass in one hand.

He wanted her. It was sudden but had been building all afternoon. He wanted to peel away her professional suit and lay her bare on the wood deck of his boat. Nothing but the elements around her. Nothing but him and her, the sun and sea.

But he couldn’t have her. Not now, not ever. More than professional ethics played into his decision. More than civilization and the rules of dating and courtship. More than he wanted to admit.

He couldn’t have her because she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t accept the boundaries he put on relationships. And he knew with gut-deep certainty that she’d push him until she had the response she wanted. Soft words and demonstrations of affection.

“Okay, the magazine will take care of getting the paperwork going and I’ll see you next week after your consultation,” he said.

“Want to meet here again?”

“Sure,” he said. He had to get away before he suggested they go home together. Suggested he father a child for her. Suggested they get to the real heart of the matter. Uncover the reason this successful woman peered at him with such vulnerability—and why he wanted to cradle her in his arms and protect her.

“I’ll be on time,” she said, and walked away.

He watched her hips sway with each step, and despite his uncomfortable arousal, he felt alive in a way that he hadn’t in years.

The doctor’s office was cold and sterile, even though Monet prints decorated the walls. Nerves and anxious tension settled over her, making her stomach roil. Today was just a preliminary examination, but on her next visit she’d be inseminated. God, she was excited and scared. She was so close to her dream come true.

It was impossible to feel comfortable when you were perched on the edge of a padded table in a paper robe. She glanced around the room, and her gaze fell on the cutaway diagram of a woman’s internal organs. Ugh, she didn’t need to see what was in there, as long as they worked the way they should.

Lately she’d had doubts about the process, about whether this decision was the right one, especially after meeting Reese Howard a week ago. Never before had she felt an instant attraction to a man. In fact, she’d believed lust at first sight was a myth.

But something about Reese’s midnight eyes had cut straight to her soul. He’d seen past the excuses she’d given everyone else about wanting a baby and forced her to reveal…the heart.

He’d demanded it and she’d given it willingly. He was a dangerous man—for her. He asked for things that she’d always wanted to give, answers no one else had been willing to hear. Talking with him had been a joy, really a joy. To share herself and not see that glazed-over look in his eyes had shown her that there was more to men than she’d believed.

Stop thinking about him!

She gazed at a poster of the growth stages of a fetus. Sabrina studied the drawings and her fears started to evaporate. Soon she’d cradle life in her womb. Soon she’d be a part of history, not the written-down kind that was told and retold, but the living kind. The part that survived in spite of politics and social trends. The honest part of life that continued no matter what.

Her doctor entered and after a quick exam told her to change and come into his office. She knew why. There was a lot of insurance paperwork to be done. She dressed quickly and wondered if Reese would be waiting for her. Of course, she knew they’d already planned to meet across the street, but would he show up?

She’d dreamed about him last night, and it had been years since any “real” man had played a part in her dreams. Hollywood heartthrobs had drifted in and out of her dreamscape, but never a man she knew. Reese Howard hadn’t drifted quietly through her imagination. He’d forced his way in and taken over completely.

She met Dr. Hyde in his office and filled out the final paperwork. He talked to her again about the process and allayed a few of her fears about what information he’d be giving the magazine. Her medical history was her own, and there was information she didn’t want to share. Past mistakes that would bring into question her current decision.

She left his office and hurried across the street. Though it was summer, a cool breeze filled the air, and she tugged her lightweight sweater closer to her body. Quelling the excitement pulsing through her veins, she reminded herself that Reese Howard wouldn’t be in her life if she hadn’t decided to go to a sperm bank.

He was waiting at the same patio table where they’d sat last time. He wore an aviator-style leather jacket and faded jeans.

“Late again,” he said.

Smiling ruefully, she nodded. Punctuality was her cross to bear. She never made it anywhere on time no matter how hard she tried. She’d even set her watch fifteen minutes early for a few months, but that hadn’t helped. So she’d stopped wearing one altogether.

He stood and pulled out her chair. The smells of the wind and the sea clung to him. She wanted to somehow get closer to him. To sit on his lap and tell him all her fears and secrets, which she couldn’t do.

Because he was going to record her secrets and then tell them to the world. You agreed to this, she reminded herself. Taking a deep breath, she willed away the nervous butterflies, the doubts pounding her like the endless cycle of the waves against the shore, eroding slowly what nature had created at the beginning of time.

Was she fit to be a mother?

He sat with his back to the bay this time, and his sunglasses lay on the table next to his notepad. He didn’t look like a reporter, she thought.

“Sorry about being late, again. But Dr. Hyde needed me to fill out a few extra forms this visit.”

“For insurance.”

“Yes,” she said. A waiter approached and Sabrina ordered herbal tea before Reese could order for her. He lifted one eyebrow in question, but she ignored him. The waiter left and she toyed with the ring her parents had given her on her twenty-fifth birthday. A pretty emerald heart set in white gold.

“You seem a little pale,” he said.

Damn, she’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Must be from ordering for myself. All the pressure.”

His mouth crinkled, and she thought he’d laugh but he didn’t. “Next time I’ll order for you.”

She’d always enjoyed banter, and now she’d found a safe partner to do it with. And the escape she’d been seeking from her own doubts. “That’s okay, I think I better start getting used to it. After all, I’m almost thirty.”

He paused, leaned across the table and gestured for her to come closer. She did.

“It might be too late to teach an old dog a new trick,” he said softly.

“Who are you calling an old dog?” she demanded.

He laughed out loud this time, and she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Laughter actually changed this man’s visage from almost uncivilized to enchanting.

He shrugged. “No one. It’s a saying.”

“Not a nice one,” she said. But she wasn’t offended. He’d made her forget her worries for a few minutes. It wasn’t her hopes for a baby that woke her up nights in a sweat, but her past. The agreement she’d made with the magazine that sometimes she wished she hadn’t.

“So…” He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his well-developed chest and waited.

“So?”

“Why are you pale? Having second thoughts?”

She should have known he’d come back to the heart of the matter. He wasn’t the type to give up. Why couldn’t he be? This interview process would be so much better if she’d been able to control the reporter. If he’d been the kind of guy she could distract with her legs or a bit of cleavage. Okay, that wasn’t the best way to operate, but it worked. Men usually were easily distracted by her looks, but not this guy.

His gaze probed hers, and irrationally she thought he might have read her thoughts. Might have ascertained that she’d been thinking of lying. Don’t lie, she thought. Honesty is always better, even when it’s painful.

“Second and third and fourth thoughts,” she said.

“And?”

“It always comes back to wanting a baby more than anything else.”

“Anything?”

She felt his gaze slip over her body and her nerve endings tingled. No, there were other things she wanted. But the baby was the safest thing to discuss with him.

“Yes,” she said, and the word sounded weak to her ears.

“More than a man in your life?”

“Yes,” she said a little stronger.

“More than—”

“Yes, I want a baby—a family—more than anything else in this world.”

“Very well. Then stop having doubts.”

“It’s not that easy,” she said.

His eyes shuttered. “I know.”

Sabrina stared at him. She’d taken him at face value and never wondered if anything kept him up at night, if demons crept out from his past and haunted him. But she saw now that they did.

The happy gurgle of a child’s laugh drew her attention. A mother and baby walking past the café had stopped. The mother bent double to her child, tied his shoe and tickled the precious, fat little leg. A wave of envy swept through her. She wanted to be that woman so badly her heart felt like it skipped a beat.

Tears stung her eyes before she could cover her face with her hands. She no longer saw the small child in the stroller, but the unborn child she’d miscarried at nineteen. A baby whom she’d wanted badly, but through her own carelessness had lost.

She started to cry in earnest. Reese placed his hands on her shoulders and kneaded deeply, trying in vain to relax her. She had to get away. To escape from the pressure she’d invited by agreeing to these interviews. She’d thought she’d gotten past her guilt and the anger and fear. Obviously she hadn’t.

Reese tugged her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her and rocked gently. Why was he doing everything she’d always dreamed a man could do? Why was he fulfilling her fantasies of Mr. Right when she knew he wasn’t even close to being that mythical man?

“Don’t worry. Fears are natural in first-time mothers. You’ll be a great mom.”

His words made her feel worse. How could she be? Yet it was what she wanted. It was her secret dream. The one that made her save her money and sit home nights instead of going out with her friends. The one that made her work two jobs and hoard her money like a miser. The one that had shaped who she was so completely that without it she was afraid she wouldn’t exist.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“My secretary had the same reactions when she first learned she was pregnant.”

“How did she deal with it?”

“That’s where a man comes in handy. Her husband distracted her.”

“How?” she asked. Reese Howard was a nice man, she thought.

“Well, let’s just say she wouldn’t give me all the details.”

“Oh.” She hated the out-of-control feelings coursing through her.

“I have an idea. Why don’t we take my boat out on the bay and forget about this story for the afternoon.”

It sounded like paradise. And his arms around her felt forbidden. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. Pretend we’re friends.”

She didn’t want to pretend. She wanted a real friendship with Reese, but knew that could never happen. He had a job to do and she was the job. “I don’t have any male friends.”

“You do now.”

A sense of rightness assailed her. For the first time since her parents’ deaths she didn’t feel alone.




Three


Reese knew there were certain things in life that couldn’t be measured. The hours he spent on the Time Lapse were one of those things. His thirty-foot sailing yacht was his baby. His car was older and needed a paint job. His house was nice and had a great view of the bay, but he could afford better. His boat was in mint condition. There was no nicer sailing vessel in the marina. He spared no expense when it came to the Time Lapse.

The time he spent on the boat worked to counteract the stress of working fourteen-hour days—simply thinking about the boat soothed him. Now that he had left Los Angeles for Sausalito, he spent as much time in the marina and on his yacht as he could spare.

He didn’t know what had upset Sabrina. He only knew that he wanted to soothe her. He wanted to bring her closer to him, to bridge the gap she’d put between them when she’d seen the mother and child. He wanted to take her to some place private to explore her depths, and not just for his articles.

He motored out of the marina and headed for the bay. From her seat on the deck Sabrina watched him. Though her large designer glasses covered her eyes, he felt her gaze on him as he steered the boat. When they passed the last buoy and entered the bay, he throttled down and lifted the sails.

The work was hot and the sun burned through the layers of cotton and denim. He wanted to strip naked, to be at one with the elements, but he wasn’t alone. And he didn’t think the lady would appreciate an elemental male basking in his testosterone.

He removed his shirt and tossed it under his seat. He heard her breath catch and cursed silently. He’d forgotten about the old scars. Not totally forgotten, of course, they were a constant reminder of the past. It was simply that being at sea had lulled him. He pulled his shirt back out and put it on.

He motioned for Sabrina to join him. She moved slowly, as if unsure. Reese couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been at home on the water. He crossed to her and guided her to the steering wheel.

“Reese—”

“Ever been on a boat before?” he asked, cutting her off. He wasn’t answering any personal questions. This was his interview. And it was just an interview, he reminded himself again. She wasn’t a woman he could seduce into his bed, no matter how badly he wanted her there. And he wanted her in his bed very badly.

“No,” she said.

Her hair whipped in the wind like living silk. If he leaned closer it would surround him. For a minute he was tempted to do just that.

But reality stopped him. Getting her to relax was one thing, indulging his senses another. Especially since once he lowered his guard she’d jump on him with a slew of questions. Women always did. No woman had ever stayed with him for the long haul. Starting with the death of his mother hours after his birth.

He squinted into the sun and forced his thoughts into the present, back to the lady standing so close to him he could feel the heat from her body.

“Are you relaxing yet?” he asked, leading her further away from the questions he sensed on her tongue.

She shrugged. “I’d be more relaxed if you’d stop interrupting me.”

He’d forgotten how spunky she could be. His tonic was working. It had never occurred to her to argue at the café, but here on the ocean she’d found her backbone.

“I know. But there are some things I don’t discuss.”

“You can leave your shirt off. I was surprised but not bothered.”

He was tempted to remove his shirt but knew he wouldn’t. Some shames ran too deep and those scars were one of his. In his mind they were as fresh as the day he’d received them.

Looking at Sabrina now, he thought she might feel concern, too. If he removed his shirt and she asked questions in her soft feminine voice, he’d be lured into answering them. And he didn’t want to sully the innocence in her eyes by revealing the ugly truth of his past.

“Want to learn how to steer?” he asked.

She sighed. He thought for a moment she wasn’t going to let him change the subject, but he could be dog stubborn when he had to.

“Sure.”

She pivoted to face the wheel and he stepped up behind her. She had a nice backside. Fully curved and feminine. He wanted to place his hands on her hips and pull her back against his body. But he knew that was foolish. And Reese Howard wasn’t a fool.

He placed her hands on the wheel and explained the rudiments of sailing to her. Then he relaxed behind her. The wind and sun played over his skin as he stepped toward her. An attractive woman in his arms, the sea beneath his bare feet, the sun all around him. Another fantasy come to life, thanks to this woman.

“This is great,” she said after a few minutes.

He smiled to himself. Finally, the tension eased out of his spine.

After thirty minutes she surrendered the wheel and he piloted them slowly back to the marina. Sabrina hovered next to him while he steered and docked the boat.

She perched nervously on the pilot’s chair and removed her sunglasses. She played with the stems. He wondered what was going on in her pretty head.

“I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic,” she said.

Weary but game, he asked, “As if you were going to sink?”

She laughed and he felt better for having amused her. She’d come a long way from the crying woman he’d brought to his sailboat. “No—as if I’m ‘king of the world’.”

Reese understood completely. There was something about being out in the elements. On the part of the earth that wasn’t readily habitable by man and surviving. He loved his boat, had wanted to live on it forever, but none of the women in his life had ever wanted to.

“Is that how you feel?”

“Sometimes,” he said.

“Why do you guard every answer?”

“Why do you ask probing questions?”

“I’m telling you the intimate details of my life.”

“In return for compensation.”

She looked out over the bay. The sun was setting and the breeze was cooler now. She shivered a little, but he suspected it wasn’t from the wind. “I feel cheap.”

Stay back, he warned himself. Stay away from her. Don’t touch.

Yet he moved toward her, anyway. Rubbing her arms with his hands and felt her fragility beneath his grip. He could crush her. How would she ever be able to protect the child she wanted?

“There is nothing cheap about you.”

“I’m selling myself for a child.”

“You’re not. You’re sharing yourself with the world for a chance at your dream come true.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, mouth trembling—and he couldn’t stop himself. He bent to her, touching her lips lightly with his own. She tasted even better than he’d thought she would. He plunged his fingers into her hair and tilted her head for better access, then took her mouth completely.

Reese blocked out the sun and the sea and the painful memories she’d dredged up. His mouth on hers was sweeter than her first taste of champagne at sixteen and more forbidden. But she longed for more.

His tongue thrust past her lips and teeth and probed the depths of her mouth. Sabrina had never in her life been so thoroughly kissed. She held tightly to his shoulders, covered by his shirt.

She remembered his back and those faded scars. His flesh not movie-star perfect but well-defined—real. Much like the man, a man with facets to be explored. She wanted to touch his skin. To caress each imperfection because it made him seem more human.

Sliding her hands down his back, she slipped them under his shirt. He was warmer than she’d have guessed. So warm. The little notch at the small of his back invited her touch and she fingered him gently. Letting her touch expand slowly, she sought out and soothed each brutalized piece of skin. Each part of his back that had been hurt seemingly long ago. She wondered how he’d been injured.

She knew he didn’t want to discuss his past. She would have to have been an idiot not to notice the way he kept the conversation away from himself and solely on her, despite his promises that they’d be friends this afternoon and forget about the article. He couldn’t forget. It was his job, she reminded herself.

While his mouth moved on hers, she knew it was more than a job to him. Desire pumped through her body. Her blood pooled at her center and her skin felt so sensitized, the slightest touch from Reese sent shock waves through her.

He pulled her closer. At last, she thought. He held her body flush to his and she reveled in it. In the firm, muscled flesh that cradled her softer curves. He was man and she was woman, and on this boat in this time they were the only two in the world.

It had been a long time since Sabrina had stood breast to chest with a man while he kissed her senseless. Too long. She wanted more.

He nibbled little kisses from her mouth to her neck and bit her gently there. Sabrina let herself go. Let herself experience Reese Howard as she’d longed to from the very first moment she saw him.

Weaving her fingers into his hair, she held him to her neck. Felt his own fingers slide under her shirt, then slowly up the front of her body. Feathering a caress along her midriff, then higher, fondling her breasts through the thin layer of her bra. The functional plain white cotton bra that she’d be embarrassed for him to see.

Oh, God, his touch felt so right, so perfect. She wanted more, she needed more. She needed it now.

She leaned into him, and his touch intensified. She slid her hands around to his chest. Rubbing his hard stomach and following the trail of hair that narrowed down his body, disappearing beneath his waistband.

She felt his arousal press the juncture of her thighs and rubbed her body against his. Luxuriating in being woman to his man. In being the elemental answer to his quest. In being the fulfillment of his base needs.

The boat rocked, jarring them apart. Reese grabbed her shoulders to steady her. But Sabrina didn’t want him to let go. Her blood was pounding so hard she felt like her heart would leap from her breast.

“That went further than I’d planned,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face and through his hair.

She couldn’t focus. She could only stare at his mouth. His full, sensual mouth, which she wanted back on her own. Now, she thought.

“It did?” she asked. Her voice was low and raspy, sounding weird to her own ears.

He nodded.

Sabrina thought maybe he was playing with her but realized that their situation was delicate. He could only make the first move for so long. He could only be the aggressor for so long before she’d have to make a decision.

“I…”

“It’s okay. I know it went too far.”

He gathered up her things and led her to the side of the boat. Sabrina stared at the lonely empty slip next to his—a vacant space waiting to be filled. She thought about her life. About her cold, lonely apartment with its sparse furniture. She remembered her childhood home. The pictures and antique furniture. The Irish linens her mother had collected and her father’s classic cars. Her family had had more than the emptiness that plagued her. Her parents had shared intimacy, a life, everything.

And this was her last chance.

After she had the child, she wouldn’t be able to have a man in her life. Wouldn’t be able to make love to a man, sleep with him through the night and wake up to make love again. She’d been celibate a long, long time and that choice had been a smart one.

A girl doesn’t forget having to make a tough decision at a young age or the circumstances that led to that decision. But she was a woman now. With a woman’s needs and a woman’s desires.

She looked into Reese’s eyes. Into his darker-than-midnight eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. Into his dark gaze that peeled away layers she’d never let anyone reveal—and she made her decision. Tonight she would be woman to his man.

“Reese?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t think our embrace went far enough.”

In response, he pulled her back into his arms, and Sabrina rested there, hearing his strong heartbeat under her cheek and feeling his strength around her. This was the right decision, she thought. Please, let this be a smart decision.

Sabrina’s apartment looked much like the woman herself, sophisticated and understated. Yet like Sabrina it also held the air of emptiness. A certain sense of expectancy wafted through the open doors. The rooms, which were functional but not lived-in, made his heart ache, even though he’d vowed no woman would ever breach the stone wall behind which he hid his emotions. And he questioned what he was doing here.

The silence felt as heavy as the secrets between them. He had his. They involved more than the scars she’d seen on his back. He knew she had her own secrets, too.

It was evident from the way she’d reacted to the mother and child earlier this afternoon. But those things didn’t matter right now. She closed the door quietly behind her. Her wind-blown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her blouse was rumpled from where he’d had his hands under it earlier, and her long legs were encased in jeans. Blood pooled at the center of his body and his arousal strained against his denim jeans.

He hadn’t felt this randy since he’d been a teenage boy experiencing women for the first time. He’d played the game, he reminded himself. He was a lady’s man. None of that mattered when faced with Sabrina. Her fresh innocence drew him in ways more experienced women hadn’t.

He wanted her in a way that he’d forgotten wanting could be. Sharp, intense and tinged with emotion. He ignored the emotion and focused on the pulse pounding through his body. Demanding he take her to bed. Demanding he mate with her in a primal way. Demanding he move now.

Her pants molded to her perfect thighs and shapely calves. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses but her eyes were clear. Though she wouldn’t change her mind, he needed her to say the words aloud.

“Are you sure you want to make love with me?” he asked for his conscience.

“Yes,” she said with no hesitation.

His body screamed, Yeah, baby, let’s go for it, but his mind cautioned him to warn her. She meant more to him than a causal romp. She was the kind of woman who deserved a devoted guy and a wedding. He wasn’t that man.

In the back of his mind was the thought that this wasn’t the wisest decision. He had to preserve a little distance between himself and Sabrina if he was going to write a decent article. But Sabrina smiled at him from under her lashes in a way that made him want to fall to his knees and crawl to her. She wasn’t like the women in his past. She was his dream woman come to life, and he knew he was going to have her.





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