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Claiming His Bought Bride

Page 2

by Rachel Bailey


  Despite Travis’s mistreatment of Damon as a child, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy.

  And sympathy for Damon, faced with losing the only family he had left, albeit an estranged and loathed family member. Impulsively she reached out and laid her hand on his forearm, stroking the material covering his golden-brown skin.

  “Damon, I’m sorry.”

  He made a dismissive sound and clamped down on her hand with his free one—not allowing her sympathy, but not permitting her to break the contact, either. “Actually, there’s good news come from this. He’s prepared to revise his will.”

  Lily blinked several times. “He’ll give you your father’s company back?” Was that why Damon was at this party tonight?

  A glint appeared in his eye. “That was my price.”

  She hesitated, holding off congratulating him on achieving his longtime ambition until she’d heard the cost.

  “It seems Travis has become sentimental. He wants to leave a legacy to his family.” Damon’s scornful smile clearly showed his opinion of his uncle’s change of heart.

  Lily frowned in confusion. “He’s leaving you everything?”

  “No, he’s still determined I’ll never touch a penny of his money. But he offered to leave his entire portfolio of assets and cash to my child. He said my child will be rich.” Damon’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “He failed to take into account that any child of mine would be rich without his generous offer.” He moved away, restless, tension radiating from him in waves she could almost feel, but the emotion was tightly leashed.

  Any child of his? He was seriously thinking about children? She’d hoped that, despite his incredibly busy life, he’d want to play some role in their baby’s upbringing—though not a role that could allow him to repeat the cycle of the Blakely’s cold, emotionally harsh parenting style. Perhaps something more like a big brother. She’d assumed he wouldn’t want more than that—he’d told her more than once he didn’t want children.

  He stopped before a portrait of a Victorian woman surrounded by children dressed as small adults, gazing at the figures as if they held secret wisdom.

  “Your child?” Instinctively her hand went to her belly as she watched his broad, tense back. And then another thought struck—had she missed a vital piece of Damon’s history where he already had a child?

  He turned in a cold, almost casual way and faced her again, this time with several feet distance between them. “If I conceive a child before he dies.”

  Lily nodded, with a streak of intense, perverse joy that Damon had no other children before the one she carried.

  No. She gritted her teeth. She had to stop letting possessive thoughts like these sneak through her defenses. They were counterproductive to her goals. She needed to tell him her news, ask his cooperation and keep both her baby and heart protected in the process.

  Stray possessive thoughts could play no part in her future relationship with him. She needed her wits about her. She was prepared to provide for this baby if Damon rejected fatherhood or denied paternity; she earned a good wage as assistant curator at the gallery. But she’d hoped with all her heart he’d want to make sure his child had every advantage. It seemed from his comments he would.

  Rich was another story though. She didn’t want Damon’s fortune. The Blakely family was a stellar example of how excessive wealth corrupted morals.

  Her hand found the silver heart pendant at her throat. “What did you tell him?”

  He looked at her, down his long, proud nose. “I said no.”

  The vision of the two Blakely lions squaring off earlier in the night was strangely compelling. “So that’s when he offered you your father’s company?”

  “He dangled BlakeCorp as a bribe and then threw in a touch of blackmail. Told me he’d leave all his worldly goods to his cousin’s son, Mark, if I refused. And Mark would break it up and sell everything to the highest bidder—as long as that bidder wasn’t me, as per my dear uncle’s directions.”

  Lily had met Mark once at a family dinner. He had the Blakely ruthless, money-hungry gaze and it had chilled her from across the table. “So how will you produce this baby?”

  Curiosity made her ask. She knew she should tell him now about her pregnancy, but first she desperately wanted to know what plan he’d devised.

  “Ah, good question. And it’s not just any baby. He wants a legitimate heir.” Damon lifted a sardonic brow.

  She drew in one long breath. “You’ll marry?”

  “Which is where you come in.” Suddenly he was close again, so close she could feel the heat from his body, smell the rich red wine on his breath. “I want to marry you.” He clasped both her hands and smiled in a good imitation of reasonableness.

  Lily’s head swam and her throat felt thick. His complete disinterest in having children in the past had allowed a hope he’d let her raise their baby on her own. But things had changed.

  The room around her began a slow spin. If she told him now about her pregnancy, nothing would stop his pursuit of her. He’d made a decision that he wanted a child. Her child. For the sake of BlakeCorp, not because of love or commitment.

  Damon always got what he wanted.

  She bit down on the rising panic—everything had veered out of control within short minutes. Her simple plan of doing the right thing and telling him about the baby, asking him for financial support, and looking for a mutually agreeable role he could play in the child’s life was now a complicated tangle.

  “Lily?” He lifted her chin with a finger. “If you marry me, you and your gran would both be taken care of beyond your wildest dreams.”

  Still she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but this will work very well for us.” He leaned in to feather a kiss along her jawline.

  Damon was a man others regarded as beyond powerful, but she’d known from the start that his greatest power was his ability to enthrall. To mesmerize her with negligible effort. The knowledge, however, was little protection. She felt herself falling…. His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her throat, leaving a decadently moist trail.

  “There were things left—” he paused and nipped her earlobe “—unfinished between us last time. I’m not fond of unfinished business, Lily.”

  She swallowed hard. “You mean I left you and you hate losing.”

  She felt his mouth curve into a smile against her skin. “We were good together before,” he said between smooth kisses along her throat. “A marriage between us could work.”

  Would it? Her knees felt boneless from the ministrations he was paying her neck. It was obvious sexual compatibility would never be a problem. But now she couldn’t play make a decent go of it or just try it. Breaking up over him letting her down that last day might seem an overreaction to some, but that had merely been the last straw for their relationship. She remembered the disillusionment when he dropped her home on her birthday, halfway through a romantic dinner, because work had called. Another time, he’d become so immersed in a stock market fluctuation, he’d totally forgotten to meet her. It was a day she’d really needed him—the tenth anniversary of her parents’ deaths. Both times he’d promised to make it up to her, and she supposed he had, but she’d learned Damon wasn’t a person she could rely on to be there when she needed him most. And her obligation now was first and foremost to the tiny life dependent on her.

  Her own mother had put her husband’s needs ahead of her child’s. As a professional gambler, Lily’s father had needed to travel, mostly in poverty, and Lily had been dragged from place to place, craving stability, routine, reliability. Until the age of twelve, when she’d moved in with her grandmother, she’d known none.

  This baby’s needs came before hers or Damon’s.

  She needed to find a way to make this new development work for her.

  “If I were to agree,” she croaked out through her dry throat. She swallowed, willing her voice to work. “I have some conditions of
my own.”

  His eyes widened slightly but he nodded. “Tell me.”

  “I’d marry you if it meant Gran would be taken care of.” Lily stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. She’d walk over broken glass for that sweet woman.

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.” His mouth curved.

  “But bringing a baby into the equation is a different matter entirely.” She took a deep breath and stepped farther away, outside his aura. “I’d want to bring this baby up on my own. One thing I learned from living with my parents and then Gran is it’s not the number of people in the family that matters, it’s the capacity to love, and prioritize each other. To be emotionally reliable for each other.” Gran would be there for her now, too, and that was all she needed.

  She braced herself to explain, to tell him the truth. As their baby’s father, he deserved it, and she needed him to understand. “I’d never cut you off from your own child, but you have to know already that your version of commitment isn’t what a child needs. Your priorities…” She trailed off, not sure how to word it without causing offence. Not sure how to tell him she didn’t want the cycle of the Blakely men’s frozen hearts thrust upon her innocent baby.

  Uncertain, she clasped her hands together in front of her belly. “We would work out beforehand what role you’d want to play. Visitation rights that don’t interfere too much with your work.”

  Damon thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. “Visitation rights?” The look in his eyes said he had no intention of being that far removed from his child, but she pressed on.

  “I also want to be financially stable enough to know that my child will always have a home and things he or she needs. You’ll make an account for the baby, in my name. I need to be secure.” Her own wage was enough if push came to shove, but this was a way to ensure her baby would never go without.

  He nodded, eyes calculating as she spoke. “Go on.”

  “And lastly, I want a contract ensuring these conditions are met.” She raised her chin, hoping he didn’t argue this point because it was an absolute bluff—she was in too far to walk away. Her baby’s needs were paramount.

  “You don’t trust me, Lily?” A rare emotion passed across his face, but she wasn’t sure it was hurt. Far more likely he was mocking her.

  “I’ll marry you and have the baby you need, Damon, but I’ll raise it on my own with money from both of us. Sign a contract to that effect or you’ll have to find someone else.”

  He rocked back on his heels, a smile playing around his mouth. “You drive a hard bargain. Good for you.” The smile that had threatened finally broke free and this time it reached his eyes. “These are precisely the qualities I want in the mother of my child.”

  He stepped forward but she moved sideways, evading him. She was shaking inside and, knowing the negotiations were at a critical point, needed all the distance from his masculine solidness she could manage. “You haven’t answered. Will you sign a contract with my conditions?”

  He reached for her, playing to her weakness, but she again evaded and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Damon?”

  His gaze rested on hers, intense and unwavering. “My child will grow up where he should—in my house with his mother and father.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. Once Damon made up his mind, he was unwavering…and she had so little bargaining room. Her mind raced so fast she began to feel light-headed. She needed to find a way to give herself some emotional space in this arrangement.

  But there was only one option, and she sent up a quick prayer that he agreed, because she couldn’t back out of this deal now. “I’ll concede to living in your home, but only on the condition that we have separate bedrooms. On opposite sides of the house.”

  One side of his mouth quirked. “Are you sure that’s what you really want, Lily?”

  Her body screamed no, even as her mind continued to fine-tune her position. “This will be a paper marriage—we’ll live separate lives under one roof. I won’t share your bed, Damon. Now or ever.”

  He chuckled with genuine amusement. “Ah, sweetheart, you’re forgetting the child we need to make.” He cast her a look that in the past would have made her come to him. “I’m looking forward to that part immensely.”

  Lily finally allowed herself to return the smile. She knew he’d try to change the parameters, turn the situation to his benefit, but at least if she could get him to sign a contract, she had a leg to stand on.

  If only she felt as confident about resisting the invitation to his bed.

  “As it happens, that won’t be a problem,” she said, laying her hands over her waist. “I’m already pregnant with your baby.”

  Two

  D amon called up all his famed reserves of self-control to avoid swaying on his feet.

  She was pregnant?

  His head swam as if he’d been sucker punched. He supposed he had been. In all the preplanning and strategizing, he’d not once factored in this possibility. It had just never occurred to him that she already nurtured his baby inside her body.

  His gaze fixed on her stomach, searching for answers. He found none, just her flawless pale fingers stretched across the narrow expanse of her waist.

  Heart beating slower than usual with shock, mind trying to make sense of the new information, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. She stood very still; a serene mask covered her features. How could she be so calm after delivering news this momentous?

  Then it came—the crack in Lily’s veneer. She pulled one side of her full bottom lip between her straight white teeth and bit delicately down. He’d lost count of the number of people he’d played in his line of work, the number of meetings where he’d wrested control from unwilling board members. The key was always to wait until that small sign of unease appeared—to be able to recognize it—then to act without mercy.

  Yet he remained unmoving, emotions frozen.

  She was carrying his child?

  Then, as if time caught up with crashing reality, his body came back to life. Heart pumped hard, mind cleared, adrenaline flowed.

  He had a child. That baby in her womb belonged to him. He’d never considered children in his future, not until his uncle’s ultimatum, but now that the reality presented itself, he knew he’d never let that child go.

  Lily’s condition of separate bedrooms be damned. He hadn’t been prepared to sign his name to that idea even before her announcement, but now there was no way in hell he’d let her create distance between them. The baby and the woman carrying it were his and would stay that way no matter what he needed to do to ensure it.

  He glanced over at her. She was exquisite with her forest-green eyes, her alabaster skin, her silver-blond hair glimmering under the soft light. He desired her like no other. Even since first meeting her at a gallery fund-raiser, she’d gotten under his skin. And now she’d be forever tied to him.

  Unwilling to show her any of his innermost reactions, he spoke with little inflection to his words. “You played that card close to your chest, sweetheart.”

  “Not—” she cleared her throat “—not really. I suspected…thought I knew…but only had it confirmed by a doctor today. It’s why I came here tonight. To find you and tell you.” Her hands remained across her belly, almost protectively.

  “So you were pregnant when you left me.” His voice was flat, almost accusing, even to his own ears.

  She grimaced. “I didn’t know I was.”

  He raised a brow. The outcome was the same. And he had another question while they were on the topic. “Tell me honestly, Lily, why did you leave?”

  With shaking hands, she pushed a strand of hair behind an ear. “Is there any purpose in dredging this up now?”

  Maybe not, but the question had bothered him—pride had kept him from pursuing an answer. But now she was here in the flesh, he needed an answer. “We’re getting married. I think a short analysis on the breakdown of our past relationship has relevance.”

  She lift
ed her chin, but ruined the effect by biting down again on her full bottom lip. “Because I was too low a priority in your life.”

  That again! He’d prioritized her above almost everything, higher than a woman had ever been, and she still wanted more?

  Needing to move, to use some of the adrenaline hurtling through his veins, he strolled with controlled movements to look into a glass cage enclosing an ancient clay urn. Several museums had offered exorbitant amounts of money to buy the artifact, and yet here it’d stayed. Trapped by Travis in this mausoleum, the way Damon himself had been for many years.

  Nothing mattered more to him than reclaiming his heritage. He’d been made to feel like a poor, pathetic relation, when his father’s business savvy was the only reason Travis wasn’t still working as a junior assistant somewhere. It was time to restore rightful order to the world.

  He swiveled to face Lily, the only woman who’d ever sparked dreams that didn’t include BlakeCorp. The innate sensuality in the way she moved; her mouth, made for such sweetness and such sin; her heart, so untainted by the blackness that consumed his.

  But everything had changed. And he needed to be very clear about his priorities. This woman was the key to BlakeCorp…and his baby.

  “We’ll marry as soon as I can arrange it.” He stepped forward and grasped her upper arms, ignoring his body’s insistent response to her. His blood had heated the moment he saw her in the ballroom, and now his groin screamed for attention.

  He heard her breath catch at the touch but she tried to smother it, to deny his power over her, simply nodding her answer.

  He let his voice drop to the seductive timbre she always responded to. “No point hiding your reaction to me, Lily.”

  Her eyes narrowed in contradiction but her chest moved in rapid, shallow breaths.

  A smile of victory threatened, but he only let one corner of his mouth curve up. “Don’t worry, there will be time for that. A lifetime of opportunities.”

  Gasping, Lily stepped back, rubbing her palms over the skin he had held. “No, Damon. I agreed to marry you. I agreed to have your baby, which it so happens I’m already carrying. But I did not agree to share your bed. It won’t be that type of marriage.”

 

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