The Stud

by Barbara Delinsky

  Spencer shifted her hand from the small space between them to his thigh. He studied her fingers, which were absurdly pale and slender between his long, tanned ones.

  "I won't run away, " she said quietly.

  He shot her a solemn look that was binding, given the silver of his eyes. "I wasn't sure of that. You've been doing your best to avoid me all afternoon. "

  "All afternoon?" She tugged a strand of hair away from her mouth. "You haven't been here but half of it. "

  "Thank the good Lord for that, " he muttered. He released another button—the third—on his shirt, filled his lungs with the tangy salt air and blew it out along, it seemed to Jenna, with a bit of his tension. His voice was as deep as ever but less tight. "I have trouble enough with my parents alone. With two hundred of their friends, I'm in pain. "

  "This from a man who once stood bound to a stake waiting to be boiled for dinner by a bunch of cannibals?"

  "You've been reading too much, " he grumbled.

  "I like your books. "

  "So does Hollywood. Green Gold has been optioned for another Indiana Jones type of thing. "

  "That's great!"

  "I'm not so sure. It takes away from my credibility. Treasure hunting is serious stuff. "

  "Yes, " Jenna said with due graveness. "I can tell that from your books. "

  He looked at her.

  "I can, " she insisted.

  "Mmm. " Neither taking a breath nor looking away, he said, "Caroline told me you wanted to talk. "

  Jenna's heart fell. She hadn't wanted Caroline to say anything. She had wanted to pick the time herself, and this wasn't it. If Spencer had felt strangled at the party, this definitely wasn't it She wanted him to be feeling loose and open to suggestion when she hit him with her request.

  "It can wait, " she said lightly.

  "Caroline said it was important. Twice she told me that. "

  "She shouldn't have. "

  "It's not important?"

  "It is, but there's no urgency to it. We should probably be going back to the party, anyway. "

  "I don't want to go back to the party. "

  "But it's your parents' fiftieth anniversary. That's a precious milestone. "

  "Uh-huh, and I invited them to celebrate with me in the Keys, but they refused. "

  "Because they're party people. They wanted everyone with them. " Her curiosity got the best of her. "What are you doing in the Keys?" With his hair blowing in the breeze, his shirt agape to mid-chest and the scar slashing his jaw, she imagined him a pirate.

  "Waiting for a court to decide whether I have the exploration rights to a site where a Spanish galleon sank in the eighteenth century. "

  Her eyes widened. "You've found the galleon?"

  He nodded. "One of my divers, the first one to spot the wreck, took off and formed his own salvage crew and is claiming that the rights to explore it are his. Neither of us can touch it until the court acts, and the court is pathetically slow. Another six weeks and we'll be into the hurricane season. No one will be doing any exploring then until late fall. "

  She gathered her windblown hair in her free hand. "Is there gold on the boat?"

  "If the boat turns out to be the one I think and if my research is correct, there is. There should also be a wealth of artifacts aboard. "

  "Perfectly preserved?" she asked. She was always in awe of the fact that things could emerge from the ocean floor intact after hundreds of years. There seemed something incredibly peaceful about that, which was ironic given the tumult of a shipwreck.

  "Some things will be preserved. Others may have to be restored. "

  "Is this your next book?"

  "If the court rules in my favor. If not, I'm out one adventure. "

  "You'll find another. You always do. How do you manage it?"

  "I have friends in strange places. They tip me off. "

  "You network, " she said with a smile at the term, which she never would have thought to apply to treasure hunting before.

  "I suppose. " He flattened her hand on his thigh and imprisoned it there. "What did you want to ask me?"

  "Later. " She could feel the heat and hardness of muscle, and tried to extract her hand, but he refused to let go.

  "I may not be here later. "

  "Oh, Spencer. You told Caroline you'd stay through tomorrow. " Again she tried to pull her hand free of his touch, this time as a gesture matching her complaint, but he held it fast.

  "That was before I came. "

  "You've only been here two hours. "

  "And already I'm choking. "

  "Oh, dear, " Jenna said before she could help herself, because if he felt like he was choking, the last thing she could do was to jump into a discussion as sensitive as the one she had in mind.

  "You'd better take the chance while you have it, " he warned.

  "Why not when the party's done? Things will be quieter then. "

  He looked around. "Things are quiet now. "

  She let her free hand fall to her lap. The wind promptly dove into her hair, creating a veil of haphazard waves to protect her from his gaze. The next thing she knew, Spencer was gathering the long curls behind one ear and securing them with what felt suspiciously like his necktie. Left with nothing to hide behind, she looked up at him. His eyes were com-pellingly blue and heart-stoppingly direct. "Go ahead, " he said, and captured her hand again. "I'm waiting. "

  Jenna's heart skipped a beat. The time isn't right. The setting isn't right. He'll think I'm crazy. He'll say no.

  But his eyes wouldn't let up. They held her in a grip so firm that try as she might, she couldn't look away. His voice didn't help. It was deep and rich, part command, part dare. "Tell me now, Jenna. What is it you want?"

  "A baby!" she cried. "I want a baby!"

  Chapter 2

  Jenna hadn't intended to blurt it out that way, but once she'd heard the words, she knew there was no turning back. She couldn't hem and haw. She couldn't show doubt. If she was to win Spencer's cooperation, she had to make her case well.

  To that end, she straightened her back, leveled her voice and said with calmness and just a touch of pride, "I want a baby. I've been wanting one for a while, but suddenly I'm thirty-five, and time's running out. The problem, obviously, is that I don't have a husband—and I don't want one, " she hastened to add, lest Spencer think she wanted him for that. "I'm single by choice. I wouldn't dream of marrying just for the sake of having a baby. That could be disastrous all the way around. "

  Spencer was looking puzzled, something she'd never seen before. She would have laughed at the incongruity of the expression on his face if the situation wasn't so serious. Slipping her hand from beneath his, she tucked it into her lap, cleared her throat and went on.

  "I've been thinking about this for a long time. I've looked at it from every angle. I've gone through all the possibilities—"

  Spencer broke in, sounding as confused as he looked and oddly helpless. "You want me to help you find a baby? I know that adopting foreign kids is in, but Lord, Jenna, that's not my thing. Sure, I'm abroad all the time, but there aren't many babies in the places I hang out"

  "That's not what I want. "

  He frowned. "Then what is?"

  She had practiced the speech so many times that she knew it by heart Granted, Spencer's interruptions might shift around the order of things, but she was determined to get it all out. "Adoption is terrific for people who can't have children of their own, but I can. I'm perfectly healthy. I've been seeing a doctor who says I shouldn't have trouble conceiving. "

  "Is he volunteering to help you?"

  "Yes, " she said, thinking in medical terms until Spencer's faint leer stopped her short. "Not in that sense. He's willing to help me with artificial insemination, which, as I see it, is a viable solution to the problem. "

  "Artificial insemination?"

  "You know, where—"

  "I know what it is. I just can't believe you want to go in for it In fact, I can't bel
ieve you have this problem at all. There must be scads of men out there who'd marry you in a minute. "

  "Yes, " she acknowledged, holding her chin firm.

  "But?"

  "I said it before. To marry just to have a baby is absurd. I'd marry for love, but since love hasn't bit me in the face—"

  "Don't you date?"

  "Some. "

  "And you've never felt compatible enough with any of those guys to talk about having a child together?"

  "None of them fitted the bill for what I want in the father of my child. "

  "Are we talking stellar genes here?"

  "Stellar?" She averted her eyes from his. "I suppose. I'd be a fool not to be talking that. What woman wouldn't want the father of her child to be brilliant and handsome and healthy and tall and athletic—"

  "I get the point, " Spencer cut in dryly.

  "Mmm. " She took a breath and regrouped. Looking over the sound, which was more soothing than meeting Spencer's probing eyes, she said, "I want the best for my baby. Kids nowadays have enough to face without having to worry about inborn deficiencies. I've looked into using a sperm bank. "

  "A sperm bank. "

  She kept her gaze on the water. "In theory, I could find a donor with all or most of the traits I want for my child. "

  "A sperm bank, " Spencer repeated in a drone that brought her head around.

  "I know you think the idea is ludicrous. Caroline said you might, but the fact is that it's done all the time. There's an increasing number of women in my position, wanting babies but for one reason or another not having a father for the child. That's one of the purposes of sperm banks. That's why artificial insemination has evolved into a science from an art. "

  He looked as though he wanted to laugh but was controlling the urge. "Artificial insemination is fine. So are sperm banks, but I still can't imagine why you'd want to use either. Come to think of it, I can't imagine why you weren't married years ago. You're pretty and smart and rich. "

  "Right, " she drawled, "I'm rich, which means that some men would marry me just for that. I've had men tell me they loved me, when what they really meant was that they loved what I owned. "

  "They don't all mean that. Some of them must be sincere. You're a nice person, Jenna. You're easy on the eyes and on the mind. If I stayed put long enough, I could fall in love with you myself. "

  She took his comment lightly, as it had been offered. "But you won't stay put long enough, which is why you're just right. "

  His face went blank. For an instant, the only sounds were the water on the rocks, the bell buoy's jingle and the cry of a gull. Then he said, "Back up. You lost me. "

  Embarrassed that she had let the punch line slip before she should have, Jenna complained, "That's because you keep interrupting me. Will you let me take this step by step, Spencer? Let me say my thing?"

  "Okay. " He straightened. "Say your thing. " He seemed suddenly so much taller sitting beside her, that she felt foolish and insecure and presumptuous. She was sure Spencer wouldn't do what she wanted. He had his own life. If he wanted to father a child, he would have already found a way to do it He was resourceful.

  Resourcefulness. Another trait she admired. Another trait she would wish for in a child of hers.

  Taking courage from that thought, she went on. "I'm perfectly comfortable with the idea of artificial insemination. Some woman inseminate themselves—"

  "How?"

  "With a syringe. Please let me go on?"

  "Go on. "

  "I've decided to work with a doctor because the chances of success are greater. The problem is that I'm not comfortable with the idea of going to a sperm bank. I don't trust numbers on lists, and I don't care how many safeguards there are, I'd still worry that I'd get the wrong donor. Either that, or that the donor would have lied and wouldn't have half the qualities he claimed. "

  "Are you looking for an Einstein?"

  "Spencer, please. "

  "Sorry. Go on. "

  "I'm looking for the best I can get, but there are some things a sperm bank won't tell you. They'll screen for sexually transmitted diseases, but they have no way of knowing whether one is contracted between the time of screening and the donation. They'll screen for physical traits and genetic abnormalities, but not personality traits. They won't tell you what the donor's parents or grandparents or siblings are like, and I think that's important information. Besides, sperm is usually frozen for storage in a bank, but a certain percentage of it is lost in the process. For that reason, fresh sperm is better. "

  Spencer was studying her in a way that would have made her squirm if she hadn't been determined to look confident. She had a feeling he sensed where she was leading. He was quick—another thing she liked about him. So she hurried on.

  "I want artificial insemination, but I don't want to go to a sperm bank. The only option that's left is to find someone I know to donate his sperm, but most of the men I know are totally unsuited to the cause. Some of them would want to get married, and I don't want to do that. Some of them would want to take part in the raising of the child, and I don't want that, either. Some of them would sue for visitation rights, but when I think of my child going off with strange grandparents, I shudder. I can't think of any man around here whose family I respect enough to feel comfortable with that. Except you. "

  Spencer stared at her. After a minute, he said, "Go on. "

  "I want your sperm. "

  He stared harder. "You're kidding. "

  She shook her head. "I'm dead serious, " she said with a fragment of breath. She was holding the rest, waiting for his full reaction.

  "You want my sperm. " It was more an echo than a question. She was sure she heard disbelief, which was better than dismay or revulsion. "How, uh, did you plan on obtaining my sperm?"

  More than any other part of her speech, she had thought this part out the most carefully. She didn't want to offend a man who was as blatantly virile as Spencer Smith. Sounding as clinical as possible, she said, "My doctor has a standard procedure for this. I'd be tracking my basal body temperature to determine the exact time of ovulation. When that time comes, you'd go to his office, be given a clean container and the privacy of your own room. When you were done, you'd give him the sample and leave. "

  "I'd—" He made a gesture with his hand that was simultaneously obscene and accurate.

  She refused to blush. "That's right. "

  His expression darkened. "I'd go into my own little room, lock my own little door, dream my own little dream and—"

  "It wouldn't be so bad, Spencer. "

  "It'd be awful!"

  "Men give sperm samples all the time. Remember The Right Stuff?"

  "This isn't the movies. It's real life. "

  "And it's done all the time in real life. Sperm donors do it. So do men who are having fertility tests. "

  "So do perverts and gays and guys who can't find a woman, but I don't fit into any of those slots. " He paused. When he turned his blue eyes on her this time, she felt the current down to her toes. "Why me, Jenna?"

  She took a steadying breath. This was the easy part, and not only because he had to like what she said. But she believed every word, which meant that she could put her heart and soul into the argument. Turning sideways on the dock to face him more fully, she said, "Because you're right physically. You're tall and good-looking. You're intelligent and coordinated and healthy. You have all the traits I'd look for in a donor from a sperm bank, only with you I'd know the unknowns, too. I know your parents and love them. I know your sister and love her. I know that there aren't any genetic defects running through your family. I know that you have a temper but that you're perfectly sane and reasonable, and even if I don't agree with the way you deal with your parents, I admire your determination and consistency, and when it comes to a sense of adventure, you have it over everyone else hands down—" She stopped only because she'd run out of breath. As soon as she filled her lungs again, she rushed on.

  "Do
n't you see, Spencer? Everything else is right, too. I don't want a husband—you don't want to get married. I don't want a man around—and you're never here. You don't want to play father—and I don't want to share my child. We're both rich, so neither of us would take advantage of the other. Think about it. This could solve your problem, too. "

  "What problem?"

  "Your parents. They're dying for another grandchild, a child of yours this time. " She knew the elder Smiths well. "Don't tell me they didn't mention it in the short time you've spent with them today. " The look on his face was as good as a confession. She pressed her advantage. "They drive you nuts pushing for marriage and kids, but you don't want either. You don't want to be tied down. This way you could have your cake and eat it, too. You could have the child, which would please your parents and get them off your back, and you wouldn't have to give up a drop of your freedom. "

  Spencer stared at her for another minute before pushing a hand through his hair. A moment later, the wind mussed it again. A moment after that, he got to his feet.

  "Where are you going?" she cried. There was more she wanted to say. She scrambled to her feet. "I have to move. "

  Determinedly she moved right along with him. "You haven't said no. Are you considering it?"

  "I'm trying to decide whether I should. " He strode back along the dock with a loafer in each hand. "It's bizarre, what you're asking. "

  "Not bizarre. Just unusual. "

  "There's many a man who'd think you were crazy. "

  "But you don't, because you know me—" she launched into the next part or her argument "—and that's a plus for you. Yes, I know that you don't want to have a child, and yes, I know that if you did, you'd be perfectly capable of choosing its mother yourself, but I'd be a better mother than most, Spencer. You wouldn't go wrong from the physical standpoint I have good hair, good skin, a good build. "

  "You're too short. "

  "Five-four isn't too short. "

  "It's nearly a full foot shorter than me. "