“It is one of the pleasures left to old men, to tease young waitresses.”
“A very French way of looking at things,” she said, glancing back towards him. Her tone didn’t suggest that she was outright offended.
“No, the French way is to say you should take it as a compliment.”
She snorted. “That’s just excusing bad behaviour.”
He smiled. “Admiring women is never bad behaviour.” He was teasing her now. He probably shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist it.
“As says every stalker in the world. Is that a compliment, too?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Driving a man to distraction with passion?” he said with a shrug. “Actually, I had a stalker once,” he admitted. It hadn’t been something he’d taken too seriously, but he could see from a woman’s perspective, it would be distressing. “But old men, they are not stalking—pinching a beautiful derrière is all they have to remind them of times gone by, when they were capable of doing much more with beautiful woman. Myself, I wish I’d drop dead before the day comes when I couldn’t please a woman.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she said with another snort. “And you shouldn’t be encouraging it. For once, I would like to get through the day without having my backside pinched. Do you know, this is only a conversation that is had in Europe? Nowhere else would you get away with the liberties you take here.”
“Just the way we like it. We appreciate our women.” She broke out in a laugh, before stifling her response to his statement. He knew he was being facetious, but on another level, he wasn’t. He liked that all colour hadn’t been stripped out of how men dealt with women; stripped back to nothingness by the requirements of the political correctness police. This was a Mediterranean country, and there was more colour here in general, as far as he was concerned.
“This is where you live?” he asked when they arrived at the small, bunker-looking building she’d guided him to. It was a completely functional structure with no charm whatsoever. He wondered for a moment whether she’d agreed to be a surrogate out of sheer financial desperation, but then he remembered her tale about her infertile brother, and he had believed her at the time, he recalled. He was pretty good at spotting liars and he hadn’t gotten that feeling from her.
“Home, sweet home,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.” She got out of the car, giving him a fair view of her pert backside as she did. He refused to notice.
“It is nothing compared to what you are doing for us.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, standing with her wrist leaning on the car door.
“I suppose we will know in a few weeks if it was successful,” she said awkwardly. She made motions to leave.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said as she closed the door. She nodded through the window and turned, striding up the stairs with bouncing jumps to her grim-looking house. She was so young, he thought when she turned her key and stepped into her house. He wondered for a moment about what he’d done today and the implications of it all. On some level, it seemed like pure madness.
Chapter 6
Sam stared at the little stick. It had all been so simple. She’d gone in, the doctor had messed around for a moment, and now she was pregnant. It didn’t really sink in. She didn’t feel any different, nor did she look any different. It was only this tiny little stick that said her world had drastically changed. Putting the stick down on the sink, she wasn’t sure whether she should be pleased. This wasn’t definite though, she’d been told; she needed to go to the doctor and do a proper test.
Feeling a rush of excitement again, she had to go for a quick walk around the village to dissipate some of the energy. She could quit her job now; focus on other things, and she could get a new flat, somewhere more suited to her—maybe somewhere with a better view than the concrete wall, or even a little country house with land and an orchard.
Her mum had to be told, which immediately deflated her energy. She wished she could tell her in an email and not be available when her mum actually received the news. Although for right now, Sam felt it was nice that this was something only she knew. Well, she’d sit on it for a few days, then go and see Dr Halmonde.
*
Sebastian was on-site when he got the call from the doctor. The sun was beating down on him and his project team were standing around. He took the news and refused to let it sink in, at least until the meeting was over, when he retreated to his stifling hot car. Turning the engine on, he let the air conditioner cool the space. The girl was pregnant. He let the amazement and panic run through him. This wasn’t something that could be undone. He’d never done anything that couldn’t be undone before and it was exhilarating and terrifying. There was also something disturbingly erotic about the idea. He couldn’t explain it, but there was. Not the girl directly, more along the lines of him having achieved something as a man. It was a juvenile and unexpected sentiment, but it had a heady appeal. He wished Shanna was in town; he wanted to work her body more desperately than ever.
Pulling out his mobile, he called her number. Getting a sexy, but tasteful shot of her on the screen—one of those where she stares at you intensely. He liked those shots; they always made him smile.
“Darling,” she answered.
“The girl is pregnant.”
“That is fantastic,” Shanna said. There was obvious excitement in her voice, but it wasn’t quite right.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, just a bad day—tough industry. You know. But this news is so exciting.”
“We have to celebrate. When are you back?”
“I’m sorry, darling, but I’m committed until Friday.”
“Of course,” he said, but he was disappointed and annoyed. Her independence was one of the things he loved about her, and the fact that she had her own life and career, but equally, this was a big deal and he felt that somehow it should take precedence. For a moment he wondered if she was punishing him for something; she would on occasion do so in a very passive-aggressive manner, refusing to tell him what was wrong and what had made her angry. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
Throwing the phone down on the seat, he felt a jumble of emotions. This was a momentous day. He was going to be a father. Not really a day he’d anticipated. He hadn’t really considered children until Shanna had brought it up. And now, he was going to be a father. He tried to think of the implications of what it would mean and he didn’t really have much to go on other than his own father, a man who had been older when he’d had his first child, and of another generation—old-fashioned even for his contemporaries. He’d been distant and disapproving, even before Sebastian had given him something to disapprove of. Sebastian had rebelled quite extensively and it had become habit. His father had died before they’d ever really reconciled—not that Sebastian expected there would have been much reconciliation to be had. His father had lived in his country estate in England—a house and a man from a different era. They would never have been friends; they were too different for that to ever happen.
Putting his car in gear, he drove away from the site. He hadn’t thought of his father for a long time. He also had to tell his mother, which he would have to do in person. She didn’t believe in such news being told any other way. It wasn’t a task he relished, but it had to be done. His mother would be pleased, but not in the ways they’d gone about this—and probably who he did it with, but he suspected she’d given up her high hopes in that regard. He was never going to be with one of the horsey good family girls she approved of.
Honestly, he couldn’t imagine how his parents had ever managed to go through the process of making a baby—it seemed like behaviour out of both their characters. Well, they’d only managed it once and he was fairly certain they’d never tried again. He wouldn’t profess to understand either of his parents or their generation. These older aristocratic types were their own breed—they really were.
He drove faster than he should, not quite knowing what to do wit
h all the tension. If Shanna were here, he’d know exactly what to do with it. It was in these times when his loyalty was tested, but he gritted his teeth and tried not to think of the multitudes of women who would be at his doorstep at the merest of hints. That wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be.
*
Sam happened to walk past a real estate agent on her walk through town. She didn’t normally stop there, because it was just depressing. Beausoleil wasn’t the cheapest town in southern France. The people who lived here earned well in Monaco—not enough to live in Monaco, but their cash did make for expensive prices here.
An apartment grabbed her straight away. It was cute, sunny and up on the third floor of an apartment building at the edge of town, overlooking an orange grove. Everything about it was lovely and it was out of her normal price range, but she could afford it now. She couldn’t help but grin as she read through the description. It was perfect, exactly what she’d been hoping for.
She had the lease signed and a key in her hand that afternoon. A week earlier she had informed her boss at the Yacht Club that she wasn’t going to be around for much longer and they had managed to snare a pretty Aussie girl from the nearby backpackers. Sam felt like she was moving on in the world—done with the backpacker jobs and on to the next thing. She was going to be a tourist at leisure, then later she would return home and consider her career. These next eight months would be her time to do exactly what she wanted, before moving on and leaving Europe and her early twenties behind.
Sitting down on her new balcony, she put her feet up on the metal barrier bars. A warm spring breeze blew in from across the land still green from the cooler winter. She could even smell the orange flowers—maybe that was just her imagination, but she felt happy. This was her apartment, hers alone and it wasn’t some sty. It was a lovely little apartment and she could decorate it any way she wanted—not including beer bottles and trampled cigarettes. She was going to cook at her leisure, she decided—beyond a hurried toast and beans. Awesome.
But first, she needed to bite the bullet. Her mother had a gift for reducing her to an awkward and bumbling teenager, even though she was a grown woman, a university graduate and now well-travelled. Irrespectively, she still managed to bring all those feelings back with her disapproval.
Picking up her phone, she scrolled through to the text screen.
Hey Mum, in a new apartment. Living on my own. It’s awesome.
She held out the phone and took a picture of the view, sending it with the text. A ping returned after a minute.
Looks lovely. What happened to Carli?
Took a job on a cruise ship.
That sounds exciting.
Sam felt her nervousness as her fingers hovered over the phone.
I’ve also decided to do something new. I have decided to help this couple, who are struggling like Dean did.
Her fingers were shaking as she hit the little send button. There was silence. The minute stretched, then another. Sam jumped when her phone started ringing.
“Hey Mum,” she said cheerily.
“What exactly?”
“Oh yes, I’ve decided to help this couple—they’re very sweet—to have a baby.”
“Are you nannying?”
“No, not exactly. I am going to carry their baby.” She heard her mother draw breath. “I know that sounds awkward, but it’s actually a really good idea. I’ll live here for another eight months, just hang out, travel and explore, and then I’ll come home.”
“Eight months?” She could hear that tone in her mother’s voice, the one that said she wasn’t just in a little trouble; she was in a lot of trouble—she knew that tone.
“Uh huh,” she said, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. “Gorgeous couple. I know it is unconventional, but if felt right for me. I want to do this.”
She could hear her mother’s sigh. “Sam, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea, Mum. They pay my expenses; I get to profoundly help someone and spend my time here not working my arse off in some sleazy bar.”
“I thought the Yacht Club was a nice bar.” She could hear the suspicion in her mother’s voice.
“One of the nicest, relatively. But it’s a bar, Mum, and I get very little time to actually see any of Europe.”
“Sam, there are risks.”
“There are always risks, but I have the best doctor in Monaco, and I am profoundly fertile as it turns out, and it’s a good lesson to learn while someone else leaves with the baby.”
“Sam—“
“Believe me, Mum, I’ve thought a lot about this. It wasn’t an impulse decision; I’ve decided very carefully and I wanted to do something for someone after watching Dean and all the sorrow he went through. This is a good thing, Mum, a kind thing.” She knew she scored a point there. Her mum sighed again. “And then I’ll come home after.” Sam knew that was a clincher.
“Are you already pregnant?”
“Yes—doesn’t feel like it though. I don’t feel any different.”
“Oh you imbecile,” her Mum said, and Sam knew the crisis was over. She could hear the softening of her mother’s voice.
Chapter 7
“That’s the baby’s head,” the nurse said, pointing at sharp movements across the screen. It took a moment for Sam to see it.
“Oh, that is so precious,” Shanna said as she sat next to the examination bed in the ultrasound room.
“Everything looks good. Good heartbeat. Can’t quite tell the sex though. Baby is a bit shy.” More sharp movements as the device scrolled across her belly. “But we have all the measurements. “Would you like a photo?”
“No, it’s ok,” Shanna said. “It just looks like squiggles anyway.” She rose from the chair, to her full height, which seemed to tower over the nurse. Her gold bangles jangled as she soothed her hair. “Let’s go to lunch.”
Both Shanna and the nurse left the room to let Sam dress, who felt a bit dazed seeing the baby. It made it all so real. There was a little person growing inside her. It had a heartbeat. She couldn’t feel it yet, but she did feel some changes in her stomach, but she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination. There were certainly changes in the smells she could tolerate, and there were some she’d never noticed before that she couldn’t stand now. She also couldn’t stand the taste of diet coke anymore either.
A car was waiting outside for them as Sam followed Shanna out. Sam could get used to this—no parking and a driver waiting on bated breath. The coolness inside the car was welcome after the blast of summer heat outside.
“I think I’m lucky in that I’ll be a whale during winter. It would probably be much worse than during the summer.”
Shanna turned her perfect green eyes to her and smiled, brightening up her expression. It was hard not to look at Shanna; her beauty drew your attention. Her bone structure was out of this world and her caramel-coloured skin shone almost with a pearl-like quality. Sam felt completely frumpy sitting next to her, but that was just the way she was. There was no comparison, because they were just different species.
They had lunch at one of the restaurants Sam could never afford, even with her generous expenses. Shanna ordered them two salads, which Sam accepted with a smile, knowing she was going to have to eat again after, but she guessed one didn’t look like Shanna by eating.
They actually had very little to talk about, making it an uncomfortable lunch with awkward silences. Shanna finally started talking when Sam asked about the autumn fashion trends, which she only had a casual interest in herself, but it seemed a topic that Shanna was comfortable with. Sam wondered what she and Sebastian Luc talked about, whether fashion was the main topic of conversation between them. She couldn’t quite imagine.
The lunch ended and they agreed that they would have lunch again in a few weeks to discuss some of the end of term plans. Sam smiled and waved as the car stopped at a house up in the hills, and Shanna got out. Shanna was nice, but they weren’t going to
be friends. They had absolutely nothing in common. As the car took off again, Sam looked forward to returning to the normalcy of Beausoleil, instead of the mad Monaco world that belonged to the likes of Shanna and Sebastian.
*
Sitting on the couch in front of the million-dollar view, Sebastian felt nervous tension in his legs. Shanna was pacing around the house; she had been ever since she’d arrived back from New York—in a foul mood from the moment she’d arrived and throughout the entire time she was here.
“What’s wrong?” he asked yet again, but she ignored him. She wasn’t being passive-aggressive either; she just didn’t want to talk.
“I am spending too much time here,” she finally said.
“What? You hardly spend any time here.” He was astonished. She’d actually spent less time here than was normal and she was getting impossible to reach on the phone, too, of late.
Standing up, he walked to stand behind her, running his hands down her arms. She growled and stepped away. And she wouldn’t let him comfort her either. He hated her foul moods. Normally she was just being manipulative, but this was a proper awful mood. “You have to spend time here,” he said. “We’re having a baby.”
“Dolce and Gabana didn’t ask me to walk for them this year. Complete silence. We’ve been friends for years and they just ignored me,” she finally said.
“I’m sorry.”
“And once something like that gets out, it will spread.”
“You’re gorgeous. They were just going for a different look.” He was trying to encourage her, but he knew the brutal truth—she was being side-lined, and in the fashion industry, that happened through silence. He knew the importance of being relevant and she’d worked really hard to remain while others were rudely and quickly pushed out. She’d done the work to be friends with the designers, to become an icon in the industry.
“Don’t patronise me,” she said sharply. “It’s because I’m spending too much time here. I am not there, being seen in the right places. Of course it is going to slip out of my hands if I let it. If I send out the messages that I am ready to retire, it will happen.”
A Material Gift (D'Arth Series Book 2) Page 4
