The Oilman s Baby Bargain

by Michelle Celmer

  “I’m fine.” She reached over and flushed the commode, but it was obvious that she’d been sick.

  “No, you’re not.” He grabbed a washcloth from the towel bar and soaked it with cool water from the tap. He wrung out the excess and handed it to her. She wiped her face with it, feeling the nausea beginning to pass. She would be completely fine in an hour or so.

  He reached over to feel her forehead, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t have a fever. I’m okay.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Must be something I ate,” she lied, and she could see he wasn’t buying it.

  “I know something is wrong. You’ve hardly eaten anything all week, you’ve lost weight, and every morning you look pale and exhausted. I want the truth.”

  He knew. She could see it on his face that he’d already figured it out for himself. Or at least suspected. She had the feeling that her saying the words was a formality at this point.

  Maybe this was a good thing. The longer she put it off, the harder it was going to be, right? The more it would sound like a lie. And he didn’t look upset, exactly. More concerned than angry, so maybe it would be okay.

  She took a deep breath, blew it out, and finally said the words she had been holding on the tip of her tongue for more than a week. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  She could not have prepared herself for the look of dumbfounded shock on his face. Whatever he might have thought was wrong with her, pregnancy had clearly never crossed his mind. And if his reaction was any indication, everything would not be okay.

  “You didn’t think to mention this before?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, but she could see that he was ready to explode. And could she blame him? He’d said it himself, he didn’t want to bring a child into this. Had she really thought a week of fantastic sex was going to make him change his mind? Make him fall madly in love with her?

  She felt as if she might be sick again.

  “I only found out for sure a few days before we left,” she said, knowing it was a pathetic excuse. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

  “That’s what this has all been about, hasn’t it?”

  “All what?”

  “The cooking and the cleaning. The sex. Did you think you could manipulate me?”

  Her heart sank. What was she going to tell him? No? Lie to him again? She had done that, just not in the way he thought. Not so sneaky and underhanded. “It wasn’t like that, I swear. I wanted you to see that I could be a good wife.”

  He looked so disgusted with her, so…violated. “I didn’t marry you so I could have a wife. I only did it for your father’s support.”

  And that was her life in a nutshell. She was only as useful as her political connections. No words could have cut deeper or stung more.

  “Does Lance know?” he asked.

  Lance? Why would he think that she would go running to his brother? “No, of course not.”

  “And he never can,” Mitch said.

  His words took her aback. What the hell was that supposed to mean? How could he not find out, eventually? Did Mitch expect her to give the baby up, or even worse, terminate? Was he that cold and heartless, or so arrogant that he believed the choice was his alone?

  What did his brother have to do with this, anyway? This was between her and Mitch. “Who cares if Lance does find out? What’s he going to do about it?”

  The veins at his temple pulsed. “You can’t mess with people’s emotions that way, Lexi. He and Kate are happy. Something like this could tear their marriage apart. I refuse to let that happen.”

  How could she and Mitch having a child ruin Lance’s marriage? This didn’t make any sense. “What are you asking me to do, Mitch?”

  “We’ll raise the baby as mine,” he said.

  Then it dawned on her. Their odd and confusing conversation suddenly made sense. He thought it was Lance’s child. Lance, who she had barely kissed, much less slept with. It had never even occurred to Mitch that the baby was his.

  Did he honestly believe that she would jump from Mitch’s bed right into his brother’s? Did he really have such a low opinion of her?

  Obviously, he did. This past week, all the time they had shared, it meant nothing to him. He was using her for a good time, because he apparently believed that was all she was good for.

  Her stomach lurched and she had to fight to keep from vomiting again. How had she gotten into this mess? Married to a man who considered her a garden-variety slut, one who jumped from one brother to the next as casually as she changed shoes. Even if she did try to tell him the truth, she doubted he would listen, or believe her. Or care.

  She had been hoping they might have a real marriage. Not just hoping, but longing for it. She desperately wanted someone to really see her. To love her. But it was clear that Mitch would never be that man. He could never respect or love her, and all the pretending, all the seducing in the world would never change that. It would never alter the preconceived notion he had of her.

  First rejected by her father, then by her husband. As long as she lived, she would never trust any man ever again.

  Using the wall for support, she pulled herself to her feet. She swayed unsteadily for a second, then straightened her spine and faced Mitch. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, brushing past him, but he grabbed her by her upper arm to stop her.

  “From now on, I would appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself.”

  She lifted her chin and met his eyes, so he wouldn’t see how humiliated and cheap he’d just made her feel. “The truth is, you were hardly worth the effort. Looks like I married the wrong brother.”

  She could see that her arrow had hit its mark, but for some reason it only made her feel worse.

  She yanked her arm free and stalked from the room. She was stuck with a man who was arrogant, coldhearted and just plain mean.

  On the bright side, she could spend the rest of her life making him as miserable as she was.

  Mitch watched Lexi strut from the room, feeling more betrayed and disillusioned than he ever had in his life. He’d honestly believed that they had connected, that the dynamics of their relationship had shifted. He’d let himself consider that their marriage might be more than a business deal. But it had all been an act. She had used him.

  How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let his guard down when all along he knew the kind of woman that she was? Because he had been thinking with something other than his brain, that’s how.

  Alexis Cavanaugh was a spoiled, heartless viper and that would never change.

  At least now he knew why she had so readily agreed to marry him, and he was thankful that she had. Lance and Kate were happy and he refused to let Lexi’s selfishness—her lack of concern for anyone but herself—ruin that. For all he knew, she might have conceived on purpose. Maybe she felt she needed a bargaining chip, a way to guarantee her marriage to Lance, but he had broken the engagement and married Kate. Mitch could only imagine what Lexi’s next move would have been had he not offered to marry her, instead. Blackmail, maybe? Extortion?

  He wondered what the senator would think if he knew what his daughter had been up to. Of course, for all he knew, she learned this sort of behavior from him. But Mitch couldn’t let himself forget the old man’s threat. If you hurt my daughter, I’ll ruin you. He didn’t have a choice but to make this work. For the company’s sake.

  She was his wife, God help him, and he was going to raise his brother’s child the way he would his own, with the best of everything. He had never imagined being a father, especially at his age, but he didn’t seem to have much choice. He had no reservations about running a multimillion-dollar company, but the responsibility of shaping a child’s life terrified him. Probably because his own father had done such a bang-up job with him and Lance.

  When Lexi grew bored and left them, which he had little doubt she would eventually do, he would reject everything he h
ad learned from his own father and be the best single parent possible. He owed the kid that much. Someday, when the time was right, he would tell Lance and the child the truth, but until then, no one but he and Lexi would know.

  That wasn’t even the worst part. To keep up the ruse, so Lance didn’t suspect the truth, Mitch and Lexi had no choice but to make their marriage look like a real one.

  Eight

  T he trip home was the longest and most miserable in Lexi’s life. It was raining as they boarded the ferry to the mainland and the ride was a choppy one, launching her already questionable stomach into turmoil. The first leg of their flight was delayed due to weather and they missed their connecting flight. They were stuck in the London airport for six hours waiting for the next available departure, and when they finally took off for Texas, the flight was so turbulent she spent most of it in the bathroom in a scene straight out of The Exorcist.

  The entire time, Mitch didn’t say a single word to her.

  When they reached Houston, she was so relieved she felt like dropping to her knees and kissing the ground. She just wanted to go home and crawl into her own bed. But as they were climbing into the limo, Mitch reminded her that all of her things had been moved into his townhouse and that was her home now. On the bright side, he didn’t seem any happier about it than she was. Her misery wasn’t as hard to swallow when she knew he was right there with her.

  Located on a golf course in what was by far the most affluent neighborhood in Maverick County, Mitch’s townhouse was anything but small. The front door opened into a foyer and spacious living area. It smelled of furniture polish and faintly of Mitch’s aftershave. The decor, to her surprise, was very homey and welcoming. Not what she would expect from a house occupied exclusively by a man.

  There was a formal dining room and enormous kitchen with every modern device known to man. On the countertop sat a huge bouquet of flowers, two champagne glasses and a bottle of sparkling fruit juice chilling on ice. Beside it was a note penned in Tara’s handwriting that read, Congratulations and welcome home!

  At Mitch’s questioning look, she said, “It’s from Tara, my assistant.”

  He gestured to the nonalcoholic drink. “I guess it’s safe to say she knows you’re pregnant.”

  “She’s my best friend. I tell her everything.” Well, almost everything.

  “That’s sad,” he said.

  “What? That I tell her everything?”

  “No, that you have to pay someone to be your best friend.”

  How did he always manage to hit the rawest nerve? But she refused to let him know that he’d hurt her feelings. She lifted her nose at him and said, “That’s a little hypocritical coming from a man who had to buy his wife.”

  She braced herself for a sarcastic comeback, but instead, the hint of a smile tipped up the corner of his mouth, catching her off guard.

  “Your room is on the second floor,” he said. He backtracked through the house to where he left her bag by the stairs. He grabbed it and started up, and she followed him.

  “Dry cleaning is picked up and dropped off Mondays and Thursdays. It will be your responsibility to see that it’s left on the porch.”

  “Fine.”

  “I have a cleaning service in Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

  “What about a cook?”

  “I’m not home enough to warrant it. I usually eat out or order in. But if you want to hire someone, I won’t object. And of course when we move, we’ll need a full-time staff.” He led her to the first room on the left. As far as she could see, there were three other bedrooms.

  It was a typical spare bedroom, with gender-neutral furnishings and decor, but Tara had placed several of her things from her bedroom at her father’s estate around the room. Photos and keepsakes mostly, as well as her books.

  She peered into the walk-in closet and saw that Tara had also arranged all of her clothes and shoes, and in the bathroom she found her makeup and toiletries.

  Mitch stood in the doorway watching her. “Is it satisfactory?”

  It was more than adequate, but she said, “I suppose, if this is the best you can do.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, the master suite is larger, but then, you would have to share it with me.”

  Like that would ever happen. “Where is your room?”

  “Why? Are you planning another midnight visit?”

  “Actually, I need to know so I can avoid it.”

  He flashed another wry grin. “End of the hall on the right. The third floor is the den and my office. I would appreciate it if you didn’t go up there.”

  Which meant that would be the first place she investigated.

  “Just up the road is the community center. There’s an exercise room and tennis courts. There’s also a pool, although I’ll warn you that bathing suits are not optional. Unless you want to get yourself arrested.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll only walk around naked inside the house.”

  He didn’t look as though he believed her, which would make actually doing it all the more fun.

  “I’ll need a space for Tara to work.”

  “She can have the room across the hall. I’ll call my real estate agent so we can start house hunting.”

  She still didn’t see the need for anything bigger than this, but he was the one paying the bills, so who was she to argue? “I’d like to unpack and change, and I have a few phone calls to make,” she told him.

  “Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move. At her questioning look he added, “Oh, did you want me to leave?”

  “Please.”

  “I should probably check in with my girlfriend, anyway. Let her know I arrived home safely.”

  She wondered if he really did have a girlfriend, then figured he probably just said he did to annoy her. If he cheated on her and her father found out, Mitch could kiss his support goodbye. She smiled sweetly and said, “You mean the girlfriend who needs occasional reinflation?”

  He smirked. “I’ll be unpacking if you need me,” he said as he left, closing the door behind him.

  She sat on the bed and looked around. She would have to thank Tara for setting up her room. It made her feel a lot less like an interloper.

  She turned on her cell phone and found she had half a dozen messages from her father and two from Tara. Since she wasn’t quite ready to face her father yet, she called Tara first. They hadn’t spoken since before the kitchen disaster—she’d been too embarrassed to admit how she had botched Tara’s seemingly simple instructions.

  She dialed and Tara answered on the first ring. “Welcome home! Did you see your surprise?”

  “I did, thanks. And thank you for arranging all of my personal things.”

  “I’d love to take credit, but that was your husband’s idea.”

  It was weird enough when she thought of Mitch as her husband, but to hear someone else say it felt like the final nail in her coffin. “That must have been before he decided he hates my guts.”

  “Oh, my gosh! What happened? I thought things were going really well.”

  “They were. He didn’t even seem to care that I completely botched breakfast, flooded the kitchen, and nearly burned the house down making dinner. And the sex? Amazing. Everything was great, right up until the second I told him I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, no, Lex. Was he really that upset?”

  “I don’t think it was the baby so much as the fact that he thinks it’s Lance’s.”

  “He what!?” she shrieked, obviously outraged. “You told him the truth, right?”

  “There didn’t seem to be much point. I doubt he would have believed me. He apparently thinks he knows the kind of person I am. I figure, why shatter his illusion?”

  “Oh, Lex, I’m so sorry.”

  “I guess the worst part was that I thought for the first time in my life, someone really saw me, you know? I thought he cared.” Lexi was mortified to realize that she was welling up. Enough of this. She had to pull herse
lf together.

  “Maybe if you told him the truth—”

  “There’s no point now. I can never trust him again.”

  “You’re going to have to tell him eventually.”

  Yes, but for now, she would make him suffer a bit. Make him as miserable as she was. “Could we talk about something else?”

  “Sure, Lex,” she said, sounding hurt. Why did it feel as though whatever Lexi said or did, it was never right?

  They talked briefly about setting up a temporary office for Tara in the townhouse, and then she called her father.

  In lieu of hello, he snapped, “Why didn’t you call? You should have been home hours ago.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Hi, Dad, nice to talk to you, too.” But she had never had the courage to speak to him that way. One wrong move and he might shut her out completely. Stop calling altogether.

  “Our flight was delayed due to bad weather,” she said. “We just got home.”

  “Well, I was concerned.”

  Just not concerned enough about her to come to her wedding, or call her while she was in Greece.

  “Would a call have been too much trouble?” he asked sharply.

  She could have asked him the same thing, but of course she didn’t. “No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

  That took the edge off his tone. “How was your vacation?”

  “Greece was wonderful.” It was the company she could do without. Although she couldn’t deny that they’d had several very good days.

  “You, Mitch and I will be meeting for dinner tomorrow evening at the Cattleman’s Club,” he said. Demanded, really.

  “I’ll have to ask Mitch if he’s available.”

  “If he wants my support, he will be. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. I’m flying in from D.C.”

  He was flying all that way just to have dinner? She wondered what she and Mitch had done to deserve that. “We’ll be there.”

  They disconnected and she set her phone down. She should probably give Mitch the good news.

  She changed into a T-shirt and cotton capri pants, then went looking for Mitch. She started to walk toward his bedroom, then changed her mind and decided this would be the perfect time to snoop upstairs. She tiptoed quietly so he wouldn’t hear her, and what she saw as she reached the top took her breath away. The entire floor was one large, open room. At one end was Mitch’s office, which consisted of a slightly cluttered desk, file cabinet and bookshelves lining one wall. Across the room was a media center with a huge flat-screen television and a whole cabinet full of electronic equipment. Not to mention a wet bar. Everything was dark polished wood with comfortable-looking chocolate-brown leather furniture. One hundred percent male.