Bargaining for King's Baby

by Maureen Child

Surprised, Gina laughed. “Excuse me? This from the woman who not five minutes ago was telling me to get married and start having babies?”

  “Not with him,” Teresa said. “Adam King is the one man I do not want for you.”

  Unfortunate.

  Since Adam King was the only man Gina wanted.

  Two

  Adam knocked on the front door, waited impatiently and then jerked to attention when a shorter, older man opened it and smiled out at him.

  “Adam,” Sal Torino said, stepping back and waving him inside. “Right on time, as always.”

  “Sal. Thanks for seeing me.” Adam stepped into the house and glanced around. It had been a long time since he was last here, but he noticed that the place hadn’t changed much.

  The entryway was wide and lit from above by a skylight that spilled sunshine in a wash of gold across the gleaming pine floors. The hall leading to the back of the house was covered in framed family photos of smiling kids and proud parents. The high, arched doorway that led into the living room where Sal gestured for Adam to follow had been unchanged, as well. The walls were still a soft, warm yellow, the furniture was oversize and comfortable, and a stone hearth, cold now, held a copper urn filled with fresh flowers. Sal took a seat on the sofa and reached for a coffeepot sitting on a tray atop a wide, scarred pine table.

  While Sal poured coffee Adam didn’t want, he wandered the room and stopped at the curved bay window. The glass gleamed in the morning light and provided a sweeping view of the neatly trimmed lawn ringed by ancient oak trees. Adam hardly noticed, though. His mind was already focused on the task at hand: How he would convince Sal to sell him the land he needed.

  “So, what brings Adam King to my house first thing in the morning?”

  Adam turned around to look at his neighbor. Sal stood about five foot eight, had thick black hair streaked with gray, skin as weathered and tanned as old leather and sharp brown eyes.

  He walked over to take the coffee cup Sal offered him and then had a sip just to be polite. Sitting down opposite the other man, Adam cupped the heavy mug between his palms and said, “I want to talk to you about that twenty-acre parcel in your north pasture, Sal.”

  The older man’s face split in an understanding smile as he leaned back into the sofa cushions. “Ah.”

  It wasn’t good business to let your opponent know how badly you wanted something. But Sal Torino was no dummy. The King family had made offers for that land several times over the last couple of decades and Sal had always turned them down flat. So, he already knew how important this was to Adam. No point in trying to pretend otherwise.

  “I want that land, Sal, and I’m willing to make you a deal that’ll give you a hell of a profit on it.”

  Shaking his head Sal took a gulp of coffee, swallowed and sighed. “Adam…”

  “Hear me out.” Adam leaned forward, set his coffee cup down on the tray and sat back again, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “You don’t use that piece of land for grazing or pasture. It’s just sitting there.”

  Sal smiled and shook his head again. Fine. He was stubborn. Adam could appreciate that. He bit down on the impatience scratching at his insides and forced a congenial tone to his voice. “Think about this, Sal. I’m willing to make you another substantial offer for the property.”

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  Now we play the game. Adam wished this were all somehow easier. Sal knew damn well about Adam’s quest to make the King ranch whole again, but clearly he was going to have to spell it all out.

  “It’s the last piece of the original King family holdings,” Adam said tightly. “Which you already know.”

  Sal smiled again and Adam thought the older man sort of looked like a benevolent elf. Too bad he didn’t look like an elf who wanted to sell. “So let’s get down to business here. You don’t need the land. I want the land. Simple as that. So what do you say?”

  “Adam,” Sal started, pausing for another sip of coffee, “I don’t like selling land. What’s mine is mine. You know that. You feel the same way I do.”

  “Yes, and that parcel is mine, Sal. Or it should be. It started out King land. It should be King land again.”

  “But it isn’t.”

  Adam quietly seethed with frustration.

  “I don’t need your money.” Sal sat forward, set his coffee cup down and then stood up to wander the room. “You know that, and yet, you come to me anyway, thinking to sway me with an argument for profit margins.”

  “Making a profit’s not a sin, Sal,” Adam countered.

  “Money is not the only thing a man thinks about, though.”

  Sal stopped at the hearth, leaned one arm on the heavily carved mantel and looked down at Adam.

  Adam wasn’t used to being the one on the defensive in a negotiation. And looking up at Sal from the comfort of a too-soft chair made him feel at a disadvantage, so he stood up, too. Shoving both hands into the pockets of his jeans, he watched the older man and wondered what Sal was up to.

  “I hear an implied ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Adam said. “So why don’t you just tell me what you’ve got in mind and we can decide if we’re going to be able to make a deal.”

  “Ah,” Sal said. “So impatient. You should learn to enjoy life more, Adam. It’s not good to build a life solely on business.”

  “Works for me.”

  Adam wasn’t interested in listening to advice. He didn’t want to hear about “enjoying” life. All he wanted was that last piece of land.

  “There was a time when you didn’t feel that way,” Sal mused and the smile slipped off his features even as his dark eyes went soft and sympathetic.

  Adam stiffened perceptibly. The worst part of living in a small town was having everyone for miles around knowing your personal business. Sal, he knew, was trying to be nice, so he kept a lid on the simmering knot of something ugly inside him. People thought they knew him. Thought they could understand what he was feeling, thinking. But they were wrong.

  He wasn’t interested in sympathy any more than he was looking for advice. He didn’t need anyone’s pity. Adam’s life was just as he wanted it.

  Except for owning that damned piece of land.

  “Look, Sal,” Adam said slowly, quietly, “I’m not here to talk about my life. I’m here to make a deal. So if you don’t mind…”

  Sal clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You are a single-minded man, Adam. And while I admire that, it can also make one’s life harder than it has to be.”

  “Let me worry about my life, okay?” That sizzle of impatience he’d felt earlier had begun to bubble and froth in the pit of his stomach. “What do you say, Sal? Are we going to be able to come to an agreement?”

  Sal braced his feet wide apart, folded his arms across his chest and tipped his head to one side, studying Adam as if looking for something in particular. After a long moment or two, he said, “We might be able to strike a deal. Though the terms I have in mind are somewhat different than you were expecting.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Simple,” Sal said with a shrug. “You want the land. I want something in return. And it’s not your money.”

  “Then what?”

  The older man nodded, walked back to the sofa and sat down again, getting comfortable. When he was settled, he looked up at Adam and said, “You know my Gina.”

  “Yeah…” Suspicion rattled through Adam.

  “I want to see her happy,” Sal said.

  “I’m sure you do.” And what the hell did Gina have to do with any of this?

  “I want to see her married. Settled. With a family.”

  Everything in Adam went still and cold. He suddenly became hyperaware. He heard the ticking of the clock that hung over the fireplace. He heard a fly bumping against the bay window. He took a long, slow, deep breath and dragged in the enticing aroma of spaghetti sauce bubbling in the kitchen. Adam’s skin felt too tight and every nerve ending in his body was stan
ding straight up.

  He took another breath, shook his head and stared at Sal, hardly able to believe what he’d just heard—realization at what Sal could be insinuating hitting him like a ton of bricks. But the older man was staring at him through steady, determined eyes, allowing Adam time to absorb what he’d said. But how could he possibly believe the old man was serious?

  Adam had faced tough negotiators before and come out on top, though. Today would be no different.

  “I don’t see what Gina getting married has to do with me or this conversation.”

  “Don’t you?” Sal smiled. “You’re a man alone, Adam. Gina is alone, as well…”

  This was not going the way he’d planned.

  Gina?

  Married?

  To him?

  No way. He looked into Sal’s eyes and saw that the older man was absolutely sincere. No matter how whacked it sounded. Adam ground his back teeth together and took a couple of long, hopefully calming, breaths. Didn’t help.

  “Let me be clear,” Sal said, shifting to rest one arm along the back of the sofa, like a man completely at ease with himself and his surroundings. “I offer you a deal, Adam. Marry my Gina. Make her happy. Give her one or two babies. And I give you the land.”

  Babies?

  Fury erupted within and turned Adam’s vision red at the edges. His lungs labored for air. His brain was covered in a mist of temper that made thinking nearly impossible. Which was probably for the best. Because if he took the time to actually consider what Sal was saying, who the hell knew what he might say?

  He couldn’t even remember being that angry before. Adam wasn’t manipulated—he was the one who did the manipulating. He was the one who was a shark in negotiations. He didn’t get surprised. He didn’t feel at a loss. He was never at a loss for words, damn it.

  And looking at Sal now, he could see the old guy was really enjoying him being confounded, which only made Adam more furious.

  “Forget it,” Adam said, the words hardly more than a hiss of sound. Unable to stand still, he stalked over to the bay window, glared at the outside world for a second or two, then spun back around to face the man still seated on the couch. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Sal? Are you delusional? People don’t bargain their daughters for gain anymore. This isn’t the middle ages, you know.”

  Slowly the older man stood up, narrowed his eyes on Adam and pointed his index finger, stabbing at the air with it. “This is not for my gain,” Sal pointed out. “This is for your gain. You think I would accept any man for my Gina? You think I value her so lowly that I do this without thinking? Without considering?”

  “I think you’re nuts.”

  Sal snorted a laugh that had no humor in it. “You want the land so badly? Do this one thing and it’s yours.”

  “Unbelievable.” This was crazy. Plain and simple. He’d always liked Sal Torino, too. Who knew the old guy was off his rocker?

  “Why does this seem so unreasonable to you?” Sal demanded, coming around the sofa to stand beside Adam at the window. Sunlight speared in through the leaded glass panes, dotting the two men and the wood floor with diamond-shaped splotches of gold. “Is it crazy for a father to look to his daughter’s happiness? To the happiness of the son of a man I called friend? You’re a good man, Adam. But you’ve been alone too long. Lost too much.”

  “Sal—” His tone filled with warning.

  “Fine.” He held up both hands. “We won’t speak of the past, but of the future.” Sal turned his head, looked out the window and stared into the distance. Nodding his head, he said, “My Gina needs more in her life than her beloved horses. You need more in your life than your ranch. Is it so crazy to think the two of you could build something together?”

  Adam just stared at him. “You want your daughter to marry a man who doesn’t love her?”

  He shrugged. “Love can grow.”

  “Not for me.”

  “Never say never, Adam.” Sal slid a glance at him. “A life is long and not meant to be lived alone.”

  Life wasn’t always long and Adam had discovered that it was better lived alone. He had no one’s interests but his own to look after. He lived the way he wanted and made no excuses or apologies for it. And he had no intention of changing any part of his life.

  Irritation spiked inside him. He did want that damned land. It had become a Holy Grail of sorts for him. The last square to place in the King family quilt of holdings. He could almost taste the satisfaction of finishing the task he’d set for himself. But now…looked like he’d be tasting failure instead and that knowledge notched his irritation a little higher.

  “Thanks, Sal. But I’m not interested.” In any of it. He wanted the land, but he wasn’t willing to marry again. He’d tried that once. And even before the crashing end, it hadn’t worked out for him or for his wife. He just wasn’t built to be a husband.

  “Think about it,” Sal said and pointed out the window.

  Adam glanced in the direction indicated and saw Gina and her mother out in the pasture. While he stood there, Teresa walked off, leaving her daughter alone in the field, surrounded by small, sturdy horses.

  Sunlight dropped down on Gina like a cloud of light. Her long, dark hair whipped around her shoulders and when she tipped her head back to laugh, she made such an intriguing picture Adam gritted his teeth even harder.

  “My Gina’s a wonderful woman. You could do worse.”

  Adam tore his gaze from the woman in the meadow, shook his head and looked at the older man beside him. “You can let this idea of yours go, Sal. So why don’t you do some realistic thinking and come up with a price for the land that we can both live with?”

  This whole situation had gotten way out of hand and Adam felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Looking at Sal, you’d never guess he was crazy as a loon. But clearly he was. Who the hell bartered their children these days?

  Giving reasonable one last shot, Adam asked, “What the hell do you think Gina would say if she could hear you?”

  Sal shrugged and smiled a little. “She doesn’t have to know.”

  “You live dangerously, Sal.”

  The older man snorted. “I know what’s good for my children. And, I know what’s good for you. This is the best bargain you could ever make, Adam. So you are the one who should think carefully before you decide.”

  “Decision’s already made,” Adam assured him. “I’m not marrying Gina or anybody else for that matter. But if you change your mind and want to actually talk business, you give me a call.”

  Adam had to get out of there. His blood was buzzing in his veins and he felt like his skin was on fire. Damned old man, throwing something like this at him out of the blue. Turning for the foyer, Adam crossed the room in a few long strides and yanked open the front door just as Teresa Torino was stepping inside. She jolted.

  “Adam.”

  “Teresa.” He gave her a nod, shot another incredulous look at Sal, then walked outside, closing the door behind him.

  Instantly he felt as if he could breathe again. The sharp, clear air carried the scent of horses and the far-off sea. A cool wind brushed past him and almost without thinking about it, Adam turned his head and thoughtfully looked at the meadow where Gina Torino was communing with her horses.

  Even from a distance, he felt the tug of an attraction he hadn’t felt in too long to count. The last time he’d seen Gina, it had been at his wife and son’s funeral. He’d been too numb that day to notice and since then, he’d mostly spent his time working the ranch.

  And rather than heading for his car, he surprised himself by heading toward the fenced meadow.

  Gina watched Adam approach and told her hormones to take a nap. Apparently, though, they weren’t listening. Nope, instead of lying down and keeping quiet, her hormones were instead tap dancing on every one of her nerve endings. Heck, she was surprised she wasn’t actually vibrating.

  “Oh, Shadow,” she whispered, stroking the mare’s velvety nec
k, “I am such an idiot.”

  “Morning, Gina.”

  She braced herself, turned to face him and with one look into Adam’s dark eyes, Gina knew she could never be “braced” enough. Why was it this one man absolutely lit up her insides like a fireworks display on the Fourth of July? Why did it have to be Adam King her heart yearned for?

  “Hello, Adam,” she said and silently congratulated herself on keeping her voice so nice and steady. “You’re out early this morning.”

  “Yeah.” His features twisted briefly, then he made an obvious effort to ease them before saying, “Had a meeting with your father.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing,” he said so quickly that Gina knew something was definitely going on. And knowing her father as she did, it could be anything.

  Still, it was clear Adam wouldn’t be talking about whatever it was, so she’d save her curiosity for later. When she could pry it out of her father. For now, it was all she could do to keep from gibbering like an idiot. Adam walked closer, leaned his forearms on the top rung of the fence and squinted into the morning light. And wouldn’t you know it, the wind shifted directions, just so it could tease her by drifting the scent of him toward her.

  Nothing so prosaic as aftershave, though. Nope, the only scent she picked up was soap and man. Which only made it harder to draw a breath. Oh, yeah. This was going really well.

  “Looks like you’ve had a new addition to your herd,” he said with a nod at the foal.

  Instantly Gina grinned and looked at the sturdy baby nuzzling his mother. “He arrived last night. Well, the middle of the night, really. I was up until nearly four this morning—hence my close resemblance to Frankenstein’s Bride.”

  God, idiot. Make sure you point out to the man how haggard and hideous you look. First time you’ve seen him since his family’s funeral and you have to look like the wrath of God? Just fabulous.

  “You look great,” he said and almost sounded grudging about it.

  “Yeah. I’m sure.” Gina laughed, gave Shadow one more caress, then climbed through the fence. She knew right away that she should have just taken a short walk and opened the gate. She was too tired and strung a little too tightly to gracefully maneuver slipping between the rungs of the fence.