Billionaire's Baby Chase

by Valerie Parv

  “Easy on the brakes. You don’t want to lock up the wheels,” James said quietly. “Remember your own words—you can do this.”

  At his quiet assurance she felt her confidence lift. Easing her foot off the clutch, she slid the car into low-second gear. This time the back wheels held traction and they made it to the foot of the steep hill without any more problems.

  With a good helping of grit and determination and James’s quiet encouragement when the going got rough, she managed the rest of the journey without jolting them around too much. Relief washed through her as the lights of the homestead came into view. She had never seen a more welcome sight in her life.

  “The car phone might work now that we’re out of the shadow of the ranges,” James suggested. “I’ll let Grace know we’re coming home early but that everything’s all right.”

  It wasn’t all right, but she let it pass and he contacted the homestead on the speaker phone. Over James’s protests she insisted he have Grace contact James’s local doctor who lived on a neighboring property. With luck he would be at home and not at his surgery in Cooranbong, a good forty minutes’ drive away.

  It was the first lucky break of the day. The doctor, Howard Leigh, was not only at home, Grace reported when they arrived at the homestead, but he was indulging his hobby of astronomy, using a powerful telescope set up in a paddock close to the boundary of White Stars. His wife had been able to contact him by mobile phone.

  Zoe gave a sigh of relief. “Then Dr. Leigh can get here soon?”

  Grace nodded and James moved restlessly. “It’s a waste of his time when there’s nothing he can do.”

  “We’ll see,” Zoe said equably but fear wrapped a relentless fist around her heart and squeezed tightly. She felt faint. James might be the enemy as far as she was concerned, but he was also Genie’s father. If anything happened to him…

  The realization that her concern wasn’t entirely because of Genie sent a rush of heat along her veins. The warmth moved up her body to her face and she was glad that James had left her alone while he got ready for the doctor’s visit. Today, when he took her in his arms in the wilderness, the strength of her reaction had alarmed her. With very little encouragement he would have become her lover.

  Yet no matter how dizzyingly enticing she found the idea—and she could no longer deny it to herself, she did find him more enticing than any man she had ever met—he had no interest in her beyond her involvement with Genie. And he had already shown his determination to sever that particular tie. Letting herself get involved with him would be downright crazy.

  All the same she found it uncommonly hard to focus on anything while the doctor was with James. True to his word Howard Leigh had arrived promptly. Although without the traditional medical bag, he would have been hard to identify as a doctor. He wore baggy jeans and a sloppy, grass-stained sweater and his hair stood up in spikes.

  When he saw Zoe standing in the doorway, he regarded her with interest. “I was expecting Grace to let me in. She didn’t warn me that James was…entertaining,” he observed with a slight wink.

  “He isn’t…entertaining.” She echoed the doctor’s tone, pregnant pause and all. Let him wonder about her relationship to the family.

  The doctor grinned. “Pity, he should be. I’ll be sure to tell him so.”

  Before she could respond the doctor strode along the hall toward James’s room, evidently well familiar with the layout of the house. It was left to Zoe to wonder what rumors had been spreading around the district about her presence at White Stars, as well as why she should care what anyone thought.

  Or why the doctor’s choice of words should resonate in her mind. Pity.

  She was on her third cup of coffee, halfheartedly picking at a sandwich in lieu of the dinner they had managed to miss, when the doctor emerged. He refused her offer of coffee. “No, thanks. I’m on comet-watch tonight. Got to get back to it.”

  “It was good of you to interrupt your free evening,” she said automatically. “How is James?”

  Dr. Leigh frowned. “Not good, but then it’s hardly surprising. You did the right thing getting him back here and calling me.”

  “What is it? What’s the matter with him?”

  The doctor appeared to weigh his options. “You seem to care a great deal about James for someone he isn’t entertaining,” he said after a long pause. “But I can’t break patient confidentiality. If James wants you to know what’s wrong with him, he’ll have to tell you himself. I’ve given him something for the headache so he should get a good night’s rest.”

  What about her night’s rest, she wanted to ask. She was more worried about what the doctor hadn’t said, than what he had. But he would reveal no more and finally left to resume his stargazing.

  Grace had already returned to her own house and Genie was fast asleep in her own bed, having hardly stirred when Zoe carried her from the car to her room. So there was nothing for Zoe to do except tidy the kitchen, shower and go to bed herself and hope she could manage a few hours’ sleep.

  She awoke with a start and lay, heart pounding, wondering what had disturbed her. The house was silent and she didn’t need to look at her watch to see that the first fingers of dawn were barely streaking across the sky. She sat upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for her dressing gown. Had Genie called out, the sound penetrating Zoe’s exhausted sleep?

  It seemed not. When Zoe looked in, she found the child asleep on her back, her chestnut curls spilling across the pillow. One arm was flung over her head and the other tightly clutched Big Ted.

  Zoe tiptoed in and pulled the covers up to Genie’s chest, her mouth softening into a smile. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing her finger and touching it lightly to the child’s forehead. When she didn’t stir, Zoe tiptoed out again, closing the door behind her, her heart swelling with anguish. How was she going to endure a life without such moments? It was almost more than she could bear to contemplate.

  She debated returning to bed but knew she was unlikely to go back to sleep, so she settled for going to the kitchen to make herself a hot drink. People stirred early in the country, so she wouldn’t be the only one awake for long.

  She wasn’t the only one awake now, she saw when she took her drink outside to the terrace. A light shone in what she identified as James’s office above the stables complex. Dr. Leigh had prescribed rest. He wouldn’t be pleased to find his patient up and working at this hour of the morning.

  Unless he was still in pain and hadn’t wanted to disturb anyone else, she thought fearfully. James must have been the one who awakened her when he went outside, she thought, pausing to wonder when she had become so sensitive to his movements.

  Before she had the thought fully hatched, she set her cup down and walked across to the stables, which were deeply shadowed and quiet. Only the soft whickering of the horses as she passed their stalls marked her presence. Either James didn’t hear, or he assumed it was one of the staff because he didn’t come down to investigate.

  She found him staring out the window at the ribbons of red and gold streaking the dawn sky. He turned slightly when she pushed the door open. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Feel free. There’s coffee in the percolator if you’d like some.” He didn’t sound surprised to see her.

  Her first cup was still on the terrace, so she poured coffee for herself and carried it to where he stood at the window. “Couldn’t sleep? Me, neither.”

  He gave a dismissive shrug. “I needed to do some thinking while everything’s quiet. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  In all honesty she didn’t know, so she shook her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

  He gave a harsh laugh, which held little in the way of humor. “Not you, too. I got enough of a lecture from Howard Leigh last night about the folly of going off to Blue Gum Camp.”

  She took a sip of coffee as tension spiraled through her and settled in a tight knot in her stomach. “Why did you g
o if you aren’t well?”

  “Because I thought it might be for the last time.”

  His matter-of-fact statement cut to the core of her fears. Something must be seriously wrong to make him think this way. “Something is wrong with you. What is it, James?”

  He turned a disturbingly direct look on her. “Howard Leigh didn’t tell you?”

  “He said I should ask you. So I’m asking.” She took a deep breath. “I realize it’s none of my business, but you are Genie’s father.” And I do care about you, she added but kept this last to herself. She had a feeling he wouldn’t want to hear it.

  She was right. “Feeling sorry for me, Zoe?” His tone was coldly ironic as if it was the last thing he expected from her.

  “How can I until you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, apprehension gripping her so tightly it was hard to breathe suddenly.

  He dragged in a deep breath and turned to face her. “Very well. I have a bullet in me that stands a good chance of killing me.”

  The room started to spin around her and she reached for the nearest support, which happened to be James himself. His arm circled her automatically, his strength buoying her up until she regained her balance enough to step away from him even though instinct urged her closer. She felt as if his announcement had scythed the foundations from under her. “A bullet? But how? Why?”

  The tension lines in his face relaxed into a ghost of a smile. “Worried about me? This is a first.”

  She clenched her hands around the coffee cup. “What do you expect when you come out with such an outrageous statement. If this is your idea of a joke…”

  The slight smile vanished. “It’s no joke. Lord knows, I wish it was. Almost two years ago when I was working in the Middle East I got in the way of a terrorist who objected to foreigners working in his country, no matter how important the contribution being made.”

  She knew her face was as white as her coffee cup. “He shot you?”

  James nodded tautly. “The bullet lodged in my neck near the spine. After the initial wound healed, I had no pain or other symptoms so the doctors decided the bullet was best left where it was, considering surgery to be more risky.”

  “And now?”

  “A few weeks ago the bullet moved. Now the medicos tell me it’s pressing against a vital nerve in my spine, causing numbness and tingling in my arm and these blinding headaches, which I’m told will only get worse.”

  A sense of helplessness overtook her. So much for her suspicion that business or a mistress had kept him away from his family. The truth was far worse than anything she had suspected. Her heart went out to him, but she also sensed that pity was the last thing he would want. “There must be something the doctors can do.”

  He nodded. “Bill Margolin is an old friend who also happens to be a Macquarie Street specialist. He can’t wait to get me onto the operating table.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Fearful though the prospect of surgery might be, she couldn’t imagine a man like James letting fear stand in his way. “It’s Genie, isn’t it?”

  His hands balled into fists until he relaxed them with a visible effort. “After Bill told me what was ahead of me, I had the investigators step up their efforts to find her, so if the worst happened I would at least see her secure as my heir. I was all set to schedule the surgery when the investigators told me they’d located her. Then when I met her again, she was so damned sweet I wanted to spend every minute I could with her.”

  How he must have hated Zoe for accusing him of coming between her and Genie, she thought on a wave of remorse. In his shoes she probably would have behaved exactly the same. Anger at the unfairness of the situation rose in her, as well as a shattering sense of loss, some of which was on her own account, she was forced to recognize. Having tasted the power of his arms and the sweetness of his kiss, she didn’t want to think about a world without James Langford in it. Even if they had no future together, he should have a future apart from her. She felt her eyes begin to blur.

  He saw her reaction and brushed her lashes with the back of one finger. “Tears, Zoe? I’m not dead yet, you know.”

  “It would take a lot more than a terrorist’s bullet,” she retorted, taking refuge in annoyance. Her tears were at the thought of Genie gaining a father only to risk losing him again, that was all. If she told herself often enough, she might even start believing it.

  He seemed satisfied. “I used to think so, too, until it happened. But Bill tells me the surgery has only two possible outcomes—I’ll make it or I won’t. He was kind enough not to quote me the odds, but I gather they aren’t in my favor.”

  “What are you going to do?” She tried to match his matter-of-fact approach and knew she failed miserably.

  He stilled, weighing the question. She got the impression he’d been weighing it for some time. Then he seemed to reach a decision. “In a way it depends on you.”

  Surprise brought her head up as fresh apprehension quivered through her. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to marry me.”

  It was the last thing she had expected and shock bubbled through her, turning her legs to jelly. This time she stayed upright under her own power, determined not to let him see that he had stunned her to her core. “You’re proposing marriage now, of all times?”

  “Especially now. As my wife you would inherit everything I have. With you to care for her and my fortune to provide for you both, Genevieve’s future would be secure, no matter what happens on the operating table.”

  It was a breathtaking notion in more ways than one. Hearing herself described as his wife almost made her miss the last part of his proposal. As the full import caught up with her she drew a strangled breath. “That would be some prenuptial agreement—a marriage certificate and a will all in one.”

  “Quite possibly.”

  It was almost beyond her to deal with his proposal on any level. What he suggested wasn’t marriage as she understood it. Marriage involved love and caring, intimacy he had no intentions of offering. It was a measure of his desperation that he was offering marriage at all. She was well aware that it was for Genie’s sake, not her own.

  She struggled to speak around the lump clogging her throat. “There must be another way to solve this without creating a…a…widow in advance?”

  His mouth twisted into a wry imitation of a smile. “I may surprise you and survive the operation.”

  The lump increased in size but she refused to swallow. “What happens then?”

  “Since the marriage would be purely for Genevieve’s protection, it will end once it’s no longer necessary. You’ll have an agreement to that effect before I go into surgery. One month after the operation, if I survive, the marriage will be annulled, although I won’t object if you want to keep in touch with Genevieve. You’ll have your freedom and enough money from me to ensure you won’t want for anything ever again.”

  How could he think she would accept money from him, especially under such circumstances? It hadn’t escaped her that for an annulment to be possible, the marriage would have to be in name only. Given how they felt about each other it was the only sensible course, yet the violent denial that exploded through her caught her unawares and her heart raced in erratic counterpoint.

  “Can’t you leave everything to Genie without marrying me?” she managed to ask.

  His eyes shone derisively. “She’s too young to be the target of every fortune hunter in my immediate family. I want her guardianship to be beyond any doubt.”

  Dimly she remembered her friend, Julie, mentioning that he was estranged from his family. “Yet you’re willing to entrust me with everything,” she said pointedly, finding the thought of how much he was willing to trust her curiously exhilarating.

  His gaze locked with hers. “Since you came to White Stars, I’ve seen how much my daughter means to you. Unlike the rest of my family, you would put her welfare ahead of your own.”

  It was precisely what he was asking o
f her, she thought. Marrying him was a step she had never contemplated, wasn’t sure she could contemplate now. It was one thing to marry a man you loved beyond all others. Quite another to agree to a marriage whose end was written before the vows themselves.

  More disturbing still was the danger to her peace of mind. James affected her more than any man she had ever known, stoking fires deep within her, which he clearly had no interest in quenching. Could she consider becoming his wife knowing there was no future for them, whatever the outcome of the operation? It was hard enough to contemplate that she might be his widow before she ever was his wife. If he lived—and despite everything, she wished it with all her heart—she would also have outlived her usefulness.

  Indecision tore at her. Tears she had refused to shed for herself clustered behind her eyes, for him. There was really only one consideration that mattered—he was Genie’s father, facing the worst crisis anyone could have to face. For Genie’s sake she knew what her answer must be. “Yes, I’ll marry you, James.”

  His hand shot out and a crooked finger caught a single tear as it slid down her cheek. “I hope these are not for me, Zoe. They would only complicate things.”

  Stopped in her tracks, she frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You mustn’t make the mistake of caring about me. Only the thought that you’re doing this for Genevieve will make it work.” He smiled tiredly, the humor failing to reach his eyes. “You may think me heartless, but I’m not so unfeeling as to want to leave behind a grieving widow.”

  “Then it’s as well we both know where we stand,” she said flatly. It made a bizarre kind of sense as long as she avoided examining her own feelings too closely. “How soon do you want the wedding to take place?”

  “As soon as it can be arranged. Both Bill Margolin and Howard Leigh have made it clear I can’t put the operation off much longer. If we hold the ceremony on Friday afternoon and have a weekend honeymoon, I can check into the hospital next week.”

  Less than a week away? She suppressed the panic, which raced through her at the prospect. “Very well.”