by Holly Hart
“Is there any reason we shouldn’t?”
She rolls my words over in her mind. “I thought you’d want, I don’t know, tests.”
I shrug. “What’s the point? You’ve already proven you’re fertile. That’s the only thing I care about. Remember – you don’t have to do this, Sheila. It’s a choice.”
“But, what about—” she stammers.
“The sooner we start, the sooner you’ll fulfill the terms of the contract,” I point out, perfectly reasonably – to me anyway. The parole board might not see it the same way – but a little cash in the right palms should grease that door as well. “So what do you say?”
Sheila’s shoulders sag. “Okay,” she squeaks. “I’m ready.”
She crosses the short distance to the cot and lays down on it. She removes her panties and reaches her hand up under her skirt, preparing herself for me.
Grinning, I shuck my prison-issue pants before joining her on the cot. I shove her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, taking a moment to admire the sight of her hand between her thighs, before I nudge it away, making room for me.
I enter her in one long thrust, realizing as I slide into her pussy that it’s been six long years since I’ve had anything but my own fist around my cock.
The heat drives me mad and I lose all control of myself, slamming into her repeatedly, the force of my blows nearly driving her off the end of the cot. Her arms wind around my shoulders, hanging on as I continue to thrust.
A few seconds later, I spill my seed into her and collapse. I bury my face in the crook of her neck as I wait for my blood pressure to lower. We lie like that for several seconds, saying nothing. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.
A knock sounds on the door. “Mr. Conway?” The voice belongs to the guard I bribed to let us use this particular cell. “Time’s up.”
Sheila squirms out from beneath me. She moves to the tiny bathroom portion of the cell and uses some toilet paper to clean herself up, angling her body away from me as she does so.
Moving at a more leisurely pace. I tug the prison pants back on and fasten them.
A second knock sounds, summoning me. I move toward the door, but pause before opening it, glancing over my shoulder, watching as she steps back into her panties. "I guess I'll be seeing you this time tomorrow for a repeat performance.”
Sheila’s eyes widen, and she stumbles. “Tomorrow? Shouldn’t we wait? This might have been enough. I can take a test, have a doctor run one. Then we can …”
I shake my head and grin. “No, Sheila, I don’t want to wait for any test results. I’m just getting warmed up.”
60
Jeremy
“Thanks, Conrad. I appreciate you explaining the situation to me.” I disconnect the call and throw my cell phone onto the desk.
“Well?” Ben says. “What did your dad’s lawyer say?”
“Pretty much the same thing Harvey said, just with more legal mumbo jumbo. Right now, Evan and I have an equal interest in the company, which would make things challenging if he weren’t in prison right now, and the remaining share has been set aside for my father’s first grandkid, who has to be born within the bounds of wedlock. The will says it, just like that. Wedlock.”
“Why in the world did your father set things up like that?”
“He had his reasons.” Ben’s a close friend, but I’m not willing to share them. Hearing Conrad discuss what my father was thinking in his final weeks stung. I rub my right hand across the front of my chest, trying to ease some of the hurt that is lodged there.
A soft knock is the only warning before the door to my office swings open. This time it’s my PA, Janet, who walks across the threshold.
She pushes the door shut and angles a pointed gaze at me. “Well, now, you’ve gone and landed yourself into a fine pickle, haven’t you? Just how do you plan on fixing it?”
Ben and I blink at her. “How do you know about what happened?”
Janet rolls her eyes before crossing the room. She jabs at my desktop landline phone with a plum colored fingernail. “See this little red light right here? It means the intercom is on. When that happens I hear every word that is said in this office.”
Shit. Now that she’s pointed it out, it’s hard to believe I didn’t notice that the intercom was on this entire time. “Damn it,” I swear. “I must have bumped the button when I moved the phone.”
“Obviously,” Janet says in her trademark no-nonsense voice. She crosses her arms and floats a brow. “And since you didn’t bother shutting it off, I heard nearly every single word that was said in this office, which means you don’t have to explain it to me. So, I repeat, what do you intend to do to get yourself, and much more importantly, this company out of this particular mess?”
I drag a hand through my hair. My mind races, sorting through my various options. I’ve worked too hard to repair all the damage my brother did during the few short years he was the head of Caldwell Industries to sit back and watch him do it all over again.
“Even if Harvey is right and Evan is released early, it’s going to take time to adjust to the real world again and even longer to find a woman interested enough in him to ignore the fact that he’s an ex-con,” Ben says.
Janet snorts. “Evan Caldwell is a first-class twat, but he’s also a great looking man who can be a real charmer when he wants to be. It’s only after he has what he wants that he shows his true colors. Plus, he’s rich. You mark my words, he’ll have four or five women cozied up to him and ready to give him an heir as soon as their bodies can manage the feat within a week of getting out of prison. Probably sooner.”
“Plus,” I add, “he already has a plan. I know he does; I just don’t know what it is.”
“Okay.” Ben crosses his arms over his massive chest. “So he won’t have trouble finding a broodmare.”
“God, I wish my dad hadn’t insisted that the baby had to be born within wedlock. If he hadn’t, I could hire a surrogate and have a baby before the start of the next year.”
Something about my words causes Janet to start. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say anything.
Ben continues to try to help. “Well, that’s not an option. But all those things Janet said about Evan, they pertain to you too. You must know some pretty, fertile young woman on the line who’s ready to pledge her life and her firstborn to you.”
I rest my head in my hands. “I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this,” I groan. Janet clears her throat, making it perfectly clear what she thinks of my protests.
“Okay, Okay,” I mutter, lifting my head and shooting my PA an arch look.
“I’ve been so busy with this place since Evan’s arrest that I’ve barely had time to think about a woman, much less get to know one that isn’t an employee. My last date—” I use my fingers to make air quotes around the word “—was the model, Avery Voight. I took her out for dinner after she did those promotional pictures for me.”
“Don’t suppose she’d be interested in being your baby mama,” Ben asks.
I shake my head. “Doubtful.” There is a chance I could convince Avery to marry me, that it’d be fun, but she is very committed to her career – and babies and modeling don’t tend to go well together. “And I refuse to consider an employee.”
“Okay,” Ben says. “But what about before Evan got arrested? I know you dated back in those days.”
He’s right. While I’ve never been a playboy like Evan, with a different woman on my arm every night, the fact that I’m worth a fortune, look good, and also happen to be surrounded by cute, cuddly animals most of the time means I’ve never exactly lacked for female companionship.
“I guess I could look up some of those women, see if they’re still single and might be interested, but it’s been so long since I’ve moved in those circles. I’m not even sure I’d remember most of their names.”
“Time to dig out your little black book and start dialing,” Ben presses.
“I’ve never had a little bla
ck book,” I tell him.
Janet twists her hands together. “I think I have a possible solution.”
“You do?” Of all the things Janet could have said, this was the last thing I expected.
Just as surprised as I am, Ben snaps around to stare at her with wide eyes. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about yourself.”
Janet snorts slightly and rolls her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? I’m over fifty years old; my baby making days are long behind me.”
It takes all my effort to remain calm and not let out a loud sigh of relief. Janet’s a fantastic secretary and I consider her a dear friend, but the thought of marrying her, of having a baby with her—my brain refuses to even process the concept.
“So, what’s your solution then?” Ben presses.
Janet meets my eyes. “My niece.”
“What about her?” I ask.
“She’s a sweet kid, well, woman, I guess. She’s just a few years younger than you. Her family has never had much money, but they’re good people. Her dad, he’s really sick and his insurance refuses to cover the treatment. They’re desperately doing everything they can to earn the money to pay for the treatments themselves, but it isn’t easy. One of the things my niece is already talking about doing is becoming a surrogate.”
It takes a moment for her words to sink in.
“So, you’re telling me … she’s ready to have a baby, and just walk away from it?”
“Yes,” Janet says, “and no.”
“Well, that’s nice and clear,” Ben, who has always been the kind of guy who prefers things to be nicely black and white, grumbles.
“She’s prepared to become a surrogate, and knows that it means severing all connection with the child once it’s born, which worries her. She’s not sure she’s strong enough, emotionally, to do that. Like you, she’s between a rock and a hard place.”
I mull over the information, wishing I had more time to consider my options. “Do you really think she’d be willing to marry me? And to have my child?” It’s a lot to ask a woman who doesn’t have any idea who I am.
Janet shrugs. “The only way to know for sure is to ask her.”
“I suppose you’re right. If you’ll get me her number, I’ll call her later today.” That will give me time to prepare a script for what is bound to be one of the strangest and most awkward phone calls of my life.
“Or you could meet her right now,” Janet says.
“What?”
“She had a meeting here this morning.” Janet looks at her watch, a pretty gold Rolex I gave her last year as part of her Christmas bonus. “She and I are supposed to meet before she takes off so I can find out how it goes. You might as well come with me and meet her.”
Ben and I exchange glances. “Does this sound completely crazy to you?” I ask.
“Sure does,” he confirms, “but the way I see it, you don’t have much to lose. And if Janet’s niece is really as desperate for money as Janet says-.”
“What do you mean ‘if’, Benjamin Dern?” Janet snaps. Indignant fire flashes in her eyes, burning so fiercely the former SEAL actually shrinks away from her. “When have you ever heard me exaggerate about anything?”
“Never, ma’am.” Ben holds up his hands, palms outward. “But isn’t it possible that your niece is being overdramatic, or flat-out overstating the situation, hoping to gain a little sympathy from you?”
“I highly doubt it,” Janet says. “My niece is a good girl.”
“Janet, I’m sure you think so, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone has been blindsided by a relative.”
Janet puffs out her chest and draws herself up to her full height. Recognizing the signs that a huge fight is about to break out, I quickly hurry to put as much space between them as I can.
“Janet, take me to your niece.” I stand up. “Ben, I want you to find out if there’s any truth to what Harvey said about Evan being released from prison early. If he is, the missing two percent of the company is just one of the things we need to worry about. There’s no way he’s going to just stand by and let me run things, and as an equal shareholder, he has a legal right to be involved. I’m making it your responsibility to find out what can be done to stop him before he even steps into this building.”
“Deal,” Ben agrees.
Janet and I use the stairs rather than the elevator to make the short trip down one floor. Janet does it because she’s a fitness nut and uses the stairs whenever possible. I do it because it’s faster than waiting for the elevator to arrive, and I don’t know why, but every single instinct tells me that time is of the essence.
“What’s your niece like?” I have to hustle to keep up with Janet.
She shrugs. “Hard working, probably a little too serious, but her life hasn’t exactly been easy so that’s kind of understandable.” Janet shoots me a sideways glance. “Everyone in the family says she’s a lot like me.”
That’s not what I wanted to hear. Janet makes my professional life easy and I do consider her a good friend, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with someone just like her … I’ll admit it, it’s a terrifying prospect.
We reach the forty-ninth floor. I hold the door open for Janet and then follow her as she makes her way to the small employee break room where her niece is waiting for her.
“Is your niece here for a job interview?”
“Yes and no,” Janet says.
I roll my eyes. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“She’s a florist. She owns a shop not too far from here. You’ve probably passed it a million times and never noticed. I arranged for her to meet with Anne Bradley, who does all the party planning and stuff like that.”
“I know who Anne is,” I interject.
“The hope was that if Anne likes my niece’s arrangements, she’ll go to her for the various floral arrangements this business needs. The extra business would really help my niece out right now.”
Janet pulls the door to the break room open before I can beat her to it.
I step into the medium-sized room that is decorated in pale blue and off white. My eyes automatically go to the large table in the middle of the room, where the loan occupant is sitting. She’s scrolling through her phone, but I barely notice that. I’m too busy taking in a familiar, cheap pea green suit and long red ponytail. It’s the woman who unknowingly played a starring role in my unexpected elevator fantasy.
Janet pushes into the room and walks toward the table. A wide, warm smile spans her face. She’s oblivious to the fact that I’m frozen in place.
“Jeremy, this is my niece, Caitlin Appelet.” Janet places a hand on her niece’s lean shoulder. “Caitlin, this is my boss, Jeremy Caldwell. He wants to marry you.”
61
Caitlin
As a sci-fi junkie, I have watched a lot of movies and read about a thousand books with plots that deal with alternate universes where everything is all topsy-turvy, but I never expected to feel like I was dropped directly into one.
I tip my head back and stare up at my aunt Janet. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you just say?”
My aunt’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “I said, this is Jeremy Caldwell, my boss.” She carefully annunciates each word. “He’d like to marry you.”
She’s gone completely bonkers. I never would have thought my level-headed, always logical aunt, the one person who’s brought stability into my life, would ever be anything but realistic, but clearly I was wrong. Insanity is the only possible explanation for why she’s suddenly babbling on about someone wanting to marry me.
I slide my gaze over to her boss and the bottom falls out of my stomach.
Shit.
It’s the guy in the elevator. The one who stared at me with eyes so hot, I was surprised his gaze didn’t leave scorch rings in my ugly jacket. From the moment I stepped into the elevator I was more intensely aware of him than I’ve been of any other person I’ve ever encountered. I w
as grateful when the elevator finally stopped and I was able to escape his presence.
I assumed it would be the one and only time our paths would ever cross.
I never imagined that a little over half an hour later, I’d be trapped in another small space with him and an aunt who’s gone off the deep end.
He looks different now than he did in the elevator. Oh, superficially he’s the same. A charcoal gray suit that probably cost more than my car’s current value emphasizes his long, lean build. His dark, wavy hair is still perfectly in place, and his face is still George Clooney handsome, but the easy, relaxed vibe he had in the elevator is gone. He’s stiffer than before and faint lines of strain radiate from the corners of his eyes and mouth.
I don’t know what he’s gone through in the short time since we parted ways, but whatever it was, it took a toll.
Jeremy. Freaking. Caldwell.
I struggle to wrap my brain around this information. When our paths first crossed, I thought he was a mid or upper level executive. Someone who was probably out of my league, but not by so much that I wouldn’t have engaged in some harmless flirting had I not been so nervous about meeting with Anne Bradley.
I had no idea I was sharing the elevator with the one and only Jeremy Caldwell, the single most important businessman in Colorado. And one of the most sought after and mysterious bachelors in Denver.
I swallow and struggle to find my voice. “I’m sorry about my aunt. I have no idea what’s gotten into her.”
His mouth folds into a smile that, had I been standing, would have turned my knees into jelly. Damn! I’ve always had a hard time resisting a man with a nice smile, a trait I’ve paid dearly for on more than one occasion. If there’s one life lesson I’ve had drilled into me, it’s that a nice smile doesn’t always mean that the person the smile belongs to has a heart of gold.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Jeremy moves closer and extends his hand across the table, leaving me no choice but to offer my own.
