Lynne Graham- Contract Baby

by Contract Baby (lit)

  ‘If I’m really honest, I wanted to meet you and talk to you right from the moment you signed the contract,’ Raul drawled tautly, interrupting her seething thoughts. ‘Why, for heaven’s sake?’

  ‘I knew my child would want to know what you were really like.’

  A cold chill of repulsion trickled down Polly’s spine. So impersonal, so practical, so utterly unfeeling a motivation. ‘After your mother died, I was aware that you were in considerable distress,’ Raul continued levelly. ‘You needed support…who else was there to provide that support? If you hadn’t discovered that I was the baby’s father, you wouldn’t have been so upset And isn’t it time you told me how you did penetrate that secret?’

  In her mind’s eye, Polly pictured Soledad and all the numerous members of her equally dependent family being flung off the ancestral ranch the older woman had described in Venezuela. She gulped. ‘You gave yourself away. Your behaviour…well, it made me suspicious. I worked the truth out for myself,’ she bed stiltedly.

  ‘You’re a liar…Soledad told you,’ Raul traded without skipping a beat, shrewd dark eyes grimly amused by her startled reaction. ‘A major oversight on my part. Two women stuck all those weeks in the same house? The bar­riers came down and you became friendly—’

  ‘Soledad would never have betrayed you if you hadn’t come into my life without admitting who you were!’ Polly interrupted defensively. ‘She couldn’t cope with being forced to pretend that she didn’t know you.’

  ‘I was at fault there,’ Raul acknowledged openly, hon­estly, taking her by surprise. ‘I’m aware of that now. Vermont was a mistake…it personalised what should have remained impersonal and compromised my sense of hon­our.’

  A mistake? A gracious admission of fault, an apology underwritten. Gulping back a spurt of angry revealing words, Polly swallowed hard. He was so smooth, so rea­sonable and controlled. She wanted to scratch her nails down the starkly handsome planes of those high cheek­bones to make him feel for even one second something of what she had suffered!

  ‘So, now that you know how I found out, are Soledad and her family still working for you?’ Polly enquired stiffly.

  Raul dealt her a wry smile. ‘Her family is, but Soledad has moved to Caracas to look after her grandchildren while her daughter’s at work.’

  A light knock at the door announced the entry of a maid, bearing Polly’s afternoon tea. Raul asked for black coffee, it not occurring to him for one moment that as a visitor he might not be entitled to refreshment. Blushing furiously, the maid literally rushed to satisfy his request

  Cradling the coffee elegantly in one lean hand, Raul sank down lithely into the armchair opposite her. ‘Are you com­fortable here?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘But obviously it’s a challenge to fill the empty hours. I’ll get a video recorder sent in, some tapes, books…I know what you like,’ Raul asserted with complete confidence. ‘I should’ve thought of it before.’

  ‘I’m not happy with what this place must be costing you,’ Polly told him in a sudden rush. ‘Especially as I am not going to honour that contract.’

  Raul scanned her anxious blue eyes. A slight smile mo­mentarily curved his wide, sensual mouth. ‘You need some time and space to consider that decision. Right now, I have no intention of putting pressure on you—’

  ‘Just having you in the same room is pressure,’ Polly countered uncomfortably. ‘Having you pay my bills makes it even worse.’

  ‘Whatever happens, I’m still the father of your baby. That makes you my responsibility.’

  ‘The softly, softly, catchee monkey routine won’t work with me… I’m so fed up with people telling me that I don’t know what I want, or that I don’t know what I’m doing.’ Polly raised her small head high and valiantly clashed with brilliant black eyes as sharp as paint. ‘The truth is that I’ve grown up a lot in the last few months…’

  Raul held up a fluid and silencing hand in a gesture that came so naturally to him that she instinctively closed her lips. ‘In swift succession over the past year or so you have lost the three people you cared about most in this world. Your father, your mother and your godmother. That is bound to be affecting your judgement and your view of the future. All I want to do is give you another possible view.’

  Setting aside his empty coffee cup, he rose gracefully upright again. Polly watched him nervously, the tip of her tongue stealing out to moisten the dry curve of her lower Up.

  Raul’s attention dropped to the soft, generous pink curve of her mouth and lingered, and she felt the oddest buzzing current in the air, her slight frame automatically tensing in reaction. Raul stiffened, the dark rise of blood emphasising the slashing line of his hard cheekbones. Swinging on his heel, he strode over to the window and pushed it wider.

  ‘It’s stuffy in here… As I was saying, an alternative view of the future,’ he continued flatly. ‘You can’t possibly want to marry that little jerk Henry Grey—‘Taken aback, Polly sat up straighter. ‘How do you know?’

  His chiselled profile clenched into aggressive lines. ‘He’s just being greedy…he wouldn’t look twice at a woman ex­pecting another man’s child unless she was an heiress!’

  Polly flinched at that revealing assertion. ‘So you found out about my godmother’s will…’

  ‘Naturally…’ Raul skimmed an assured glance in her direction. ‘And the good news is that you don’t have to marry Henry to inherit that money and make a new start. You’re only twenty-one; you have your whole life in front of you. Why clog it up with Henry? He’s a pompous bore. I’m prepared to give you that million pounds to dump him!’

  In sheer shock, Polly’s lips fell open. She began to rise off the sofa. ‘I b-beg your pardon?’ she stammered shakily, convinced he couldn’t possibly have said what she thought he had said.

  Raul swung fluidly round to face her again. ‘You heard me. Forget that stupid will, and for the present forget the baby too…just ditch that loser!’

  Her blue eyes opened very wide. She gaped at him, and then she took a step forward, fierce anger leaping up inside her. ‘How dare you try to bribe me into doing what you want me to do? How dare you do that?’

  Raul’s cool facade cracked to reveal the cold anger be­neath. He sent her a sizzling look of derision. ‘Caramba! Surely you’d prefer to stay rich and single when Henry’s the only option on offer?’

  Without an instant of hesitation, Polly snatched up the water jug by the bed with a feverish hand and slung the contents at him. ‘That’s what I think of your filthy offer! I’m not for sale this time and I never will be again!’

  Soaked by that sizeable flood, and astonished by bom her attack and that outburst, Raul stood there dripping and downright incredulous. As his lean fingers raked his wet hair off his brow, his dark eyes flamed to a savage gold­en blaze.‘I’m not sorry,’ Polly admitted starkly.

  Raul slung her a searing look of scantily leashed fury. ‘Por Dios…l am leaving before I say or do something I might regret!’ he bit out rawly.

  The door snapped shut in his imperious wake. Polly snatched in a slow steadying breath and realised that even her hands were shaking. She had never met with a temper that hot before.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A video recorder arrived, complete with a whole collection of tapes, and was installed in Polly’s room by lunchtime the following day.

  As a gesture, it was calculated to make her feel guilty. That evening, Polly sat in floods of tears just picking through titles like The Quiet Man and Pretty Woman and Sabrina. All escapist romantic movies, picked by a male who knew her tastes far too well for comfort. She grabbed up another tissue in despair.

  Raul Zaforteza unleashed a temper she hadn’t known she had. He filled her to overflowing with violent, resentful and distressingly confused emotions. She hated him, she told herself fiercely. He was tearing her apart. She hated him even more when she felt herself react to the humiliating pull of his magnetic sexual attraction.

&n
bsp; Worse, Raul understood her so much better than she understood him. In Vermont, she had trustingly revealed too many private thoughts and feelings, while he had been coolly evaluating her, like a scientist studying something curious under a microscope. Why? He had answered that straight off the top of his head and without hesitation.

  So that he could answer her child’s questions about her in the future.

  Polly shivered at the memory of that admission, chilled to the marrow and hurt beyond belief. It wasn’t possible to get more detached than that from another human being. But how many times had Raul already emphasised that there was nothing but that hateful surrogate contract between them? And why was she still torturing herself with that reality? He had coolly, contemptuously offered her a million pounds to dump Henry and stay single. And why had he done that? Simply because he felt threatened by the idea of her marrying. Why hadn’t she grasped that fact sooner? If she married, Raul would be forced, whether he liked it or not, to stand back while another man raised his child. So why hadn’t she told him she wasn’t planning to marry Henry?

  Polly was honest with herself on that point. She hadn’t seen why she should tell him the truth. What business was it of his? And she had been prepared to hide behind a pre­tend engagement to Henry, a face-saving pretence that sug­gested her life had moved on since Vermont. Only Raul had destroyed that pretence. Acquainted as he was with the intricacies of her godmother’s will, he had realised that that inheritance was the only reason Henry was willing to marry her. It mortified Polly that Raul should have guessed even that. In his presence, she was beginning to feel as if she was being speedily stripped of every defence.

  But then what did she know about men? It was laughable to be so close to the birth of her own child and still be so ignorant But her father had been a strict, puritanical man, whose rules and restrictions had made it impossible for her to enjoy a normal social life. It had even been difficult to hang onto female friends with a father who invariably of­fended them by criticising their clothing or their behaviour.

  She had had a crush on a boy in her teens, but he had quickly lost interest when her father refused to allow her to go out with him. When she had started the university degree course that she’d never got to finish, she had lived so close to the campus she had had to continue living at home. She had kept house for her father, assisted in his many church activities and, when his stationery business began to fail, helped with his office work.

  She had sneaked out to the occasional party. Driven with guilt at having lied to get out, she had endured a few over-enthusiastic clinches, wondering what all the fuss was about while she pushed away groping, over-familiar hands, un­able to comprehend why any sane female would want to respond to such crude demands.

  She had met another boy while studying. Like his prede­cessors, he had been unwilling to come to the house and meet her father just to get permission to take her out at night. At first he had thought it was a bit of laugh to see her only during the day. Then one lunchtime he had taken her back to his flat and tried to get her to go to bed with him. She had said no. He had ditched her there and then, called her ‘a pathetic, boring little virgin’ and soon replaced her with a more available girl who didn’t expect love and commitment in return for sex.

  It had taken Raul Zaforteza to teach Polly what she had never felt before.. .a deep, dark craving for physical contact as tormenting to endure as a desperate thirst…

  Polly was restless that evening. Aware that she wasn’t asleep, one of the nurses brought her in a cup of tea at ten, and thoughtfully lent her a magazine to read.

  As always, during the night, her door was kept ajar to allow the staff to check easily and quietly on her. So when, out of the corner of her eye, Polly saw the door open wider, she turned with a smile for the nurse she was expecting to see and then froze in surprise when she saw Raul instead. Visiting time finished at nine, and it was now after eleven.

  ‘How did you get in?’ Polly asked in a startled whisper.

  Raul leant lithely back against the door until it snapped softly shut. In a black dinner jacket and narrow black trou­sers, a bow tie at his throat, he exuded sophisticated cool. ‘Talked my way past the security guard and chatted up the night sister.’

  Strolling forward, he set a tub of ice cream in front of her. ‘Peppermint—your favourite…my peace offering,’ he murmured with a lazy smile.

  That charismatic smile hit Polly like a shot of adrenalin in her veins. Every trace of drowsiness evaporated. Her heart jumped, her mouth ran dry and burning colour started to creep up her throat He lifted the teaspoon from the cup and saucer on the bed-table she had pushed away and set­tled it down helpfully on top of the tub.

  ‘Eat it before it melts,’ he advised, settling down on the end of the bed in an indolent sprawl.

  It shook her that Raul should recall that peppermint was her favorite flavour. It shook her even more that he should take the trouble to call in with ice cream at this hour of the night when he had obviously been out somewhere.

  With a not quite steady hand, Polly removed the lid on the tub. ‘Henry bed,’ she confided abruptly. ‘We’re not engaged. I’m not going to marry him.’

  In the intimate pool of light shed by the Anglepoise lamp by the bed, a wolfish grin slashed Raul’s darkly handsome features. Polly was so mesmerised by it, she dug her tea­spoon into empty air instead of the tub and only discovered the ice cream by touch.

  ‘You could do a lot better than him, cielita,’ he re­sponded softly.

  Polly’s natural sense of fairness prompted her to add, ‘Henry isn’t that bad. He was honest. It wasn’t like he pretended to fancy me or anything like that…’

  Slumberous dark eyes semi-screened by lush ebony lashes, Raul emitted a low-pitched laugh that sent an odd little tremor down her sensitive spine. ‘Henry has no taste.’

  The silence that fell seemed to hum in her eardrums.

  Feeling that languorous heaviness in her breasts, the surge of physical awareness she dreaded, Polly shifted un­easily and leapt straight back into speech. ‘Why did you decide to hire a surrogate?’ she asked baldly. ‘It doesn’t make sense to me.’

  His strong face tensed. ‘I wanted to have a child while I was still young enough to play with a child…’

  ‘And the right woman just didn’t come along?’ Polly assumed as the silence stretched.

  ‘Perhaps I should say that I like women but I like my freedom better. Let’s leave it at that,’ Raul suggested smoothly.

  ‘I’m so sorry I signed that contract.’ Troubled eyes blue as violets rested on him, her heart-shaped face strained. ‘I don’t know how I thought I could actually go through with it…but at the time I suppose I couldn’t think of anything but how sick my mother was.’

  ‘I should never have picked you. The psychologist said that he wasn’t convinced you understood how hard it would be to surrender your child—’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘He said you were too intense, too idealistic.’

  Polly frowned. ‘So why was I chosen?’

  Raul lifted a broad shoulder in a slight fatalistic shrug that was very Latin. ‘I liked you. I didn’t want to have a baby with a woman I couldn’t even like.’

  ‘I was a really bad choice,’ Polly muttered ruefully. ‘Now I wish you’d listened to the psychologist.’

  Raul vented a rather grim laugh. ‘I never listen to what I don’t want to hear. People who work for me know that, and they like to please me. That’s why you were fed lies to persuade you into signing the contract. A very junior lawyer got smart and set you up. He didn’t tell his boss what he’d done until after you’d signed. He expected an accolade for his ingenuity but instead he got fired.’

  ‘Did he?’ Polly showed her surprise.

  ‘St…’ Raul’s mouth tightened. ‘But my lawyer saw no reason to tell me what had happened. He had no idea that either of us would ever be in a position to find out.’

  Polly ate the ice
cream, lashes lowering as she savoured each cool, delicious spoonful. The seconds ticked by. Raul watched her. She was aware of his intent scrutiny, curiously satisfied by the attention, but extremely nervous of it too, as if she was a mouse with a hawk circling overhead. It was so quiet, so very quiet at that hour of the night, no distant buzzing bells, no quick-moving feet in the corridor outside. And then Polly stiffened, a muffled little sound of dis­comfort escaping her as the baby chose that moment to give her an athletic kick.

  Raul leant forward. lQue… what is it?’ he demanded anx­iously.

  ‘The baby. It’s always liveliest at night.’ She met the question in his eyes and flushed, reaching a sudden deci­sion. Setting down the ice cream, she pushed the bedding back the few necessary inches, knowing that she was per­fectly decently covered in her cotton nightie but still feeling horrendously shy.

  Raul drew closer and rested his palm very lightly on her stomach. As he felt the movement beneath his fingers, a look of wonder filled his dark, shimmering gaze and he smiled with sudden quick brilliance. ‘That’s amazing,’ he breathed. ‘Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?’

  ‘Mr Bevan offered to tell me but I didn’t want to know,’ Polly admitted unevenly, deeply unsettled by that instant of intimate sharing but undeniably touched by his fascination. ‘I like surprises better.’

  Raul slowly removed his palm and tugged the sheet back into place. His hands weren’t quite steady. Noting that, she wondered why. She could still feel the cool touch of his hand like a burning imprint on her own flesh. He was so close she could hardly breathe, her own awareness of him so pronounced it was impossible to fight. At best, she knew she could only hope to conceal her reaction, but though she was desperate to think of something to say to distract him her mind was suddenly a blank.

  ‘You can be incredibly sweet…’ Raul remarked, half un­der his breath.