Her Indecent Proposal (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Collection)

by Angelo, Judy

  "If you think it’s necessary I won’t stop you,” he said, “but I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m happy to wait and see what happens.”

  He said the words but she didn’t believe him. She refused to believe him. She knew he wanted this as badly as she did.

  And so, early the following Monday she left for Boston to meet with a consultant to discuss her case. Sloane had offered to accompany her but she’d refused his offer. There were some battles that she just had to fight on her own.

  At the clinic they discussed her options then ran a series of routine tests – blood, urine, cervical smears – then gave her an appointment for the following week to do more intensive checks. It was a week after that second round of tests that she found out – to her dismay – that she had an endometrial growth that might prevent her from ever getting pregnant.

  Her heart crashed against the rocks of despair. Was she never to get her deepest wish? And how could she tell Sloane?

  Melanie told Sloane that same night when she got home but it was hard. It was hard when she saw the disappointment flit across his face but it was even harder when he put his arm around her and told her it was okay.

  He was faking it. He had to be. He was just as devastated as she was.

  But she had one last card up her sleeve. Her final option for getting pregnant. “I want to try artificial insemination,” she told him. “Whatever it takes, I want to have your baby.”

  Instead of jumping at her idea, he looked at her calmly and spoke in a quiet voice. “I know you’re stressed out right now, Mel, but let’s not jump to a decision just yet. We have time-”

  “No, we don't.” She pulled out of his arms and glared up at him. “Don’t you see I’m getting older by the minute? Can’t you see it’s almost too late?” Her voice rose with each word, till she was almost shrieking. “We can’t wait. We have to move now.” She ended on a hiccup and the tears began to flow and when he pulled her back into his arms she clung to him like she needed his strength or else she would fall.

  “Hush. It’s okay, honey,” he soothed as he stroked her back. “We’ll do it and it will be okay. You can let it all out. It’s okay.”

  And Melanie could not speak. She could only cry, clinging to her husband as the sobs racked her body.

  Because she knew if this didn’t work, it would all be over.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Melanie, happy birthday to you.”

  Melanie’s heart was in her throat as she walked into her office suite and saw a host her employees – from her executive assistant to her managers to the intern who had joined at the beginning of summer – gathered there, wide smiles on their faces.

  She almost cried. They’d gone to the trouble of throwing her a surprise birthday party and it had been exactly that – a huge surprise.

  Tamara had called her immediately after her site tour of her brand new studio to tell her that she was needed back in office right away. It was an emergency, she’d said, but it was so confidential that she couldn’t discuss it on the phone. Heart thumping, wondering what could be so urgent and so private, Melanie hurried back as instructed and headed straight to her office. Now that she thought back, the place had seemed deserted as she rushed through but she’d been too preoccupied to worry about it.

  And now she knew why. The schemers.

  She sniffed as she smiled back at them, her heart filled with gratitude that they cared enough to make all this effort. And she sniffed, too, because she was suddenly overcome with another emotion, the bitter disappointment of knowing that she’d hit this major milestone with no bambino in sight.

  “How old are you now?” they began to sing, and she raised her hand.

  “Now that, I’m not going to reveal,” she said with a laugh. “Now excuse me while I wring Tamara's neck for scaring me half to death. I thought the place was on fire.” She walked over and hugged her assistant then she went around and greeted each of her well-wishers individually, teasing them with threats of more assignments as payback for having deceived her.

  All in all, it was a fun and happy get-together…at least for them. They’d each brought food from home so there was an impressive array of dishes – barbecued chicken, beef stir fry, cornbread, coleslaw, potato salad and macaroni and cheese pie. Everything was delicious. When it was time for dessert they wheeled in a tray on which sat a huge slab cake. It read, “Happy thirty-fifth, boss!”

  So they’d known all along. And the number staring up at her was like a knife to the heart – for her, the dreaded start of her middle years and the beginning of the end, where babies were concerned. But she was in the company of her employees so, depressed or not, she had to play cheerful.

  She was the one who squealed loudest when they blindfolded her and had her smack a piñata and when the celebrations ended an hour later she was still smiling as they all filed out and headed back to their own offices and workstations.

  It was only then that Melanie gave in to her true feelings. Feeling drained, she slumped into her chair and dropped her chin on her palm.

  It was her thirty-fifth birthday, she would be celebrating her first wedding anniversary in one week, and all she wanted to do was bawl.

  ***

  “Melanie, are you okay, honey?” Sloane’s voice echoed through the phone line but his concern was very clear. “I tried calling you earlier but my calls didn’t go through. How was your birthday?”

  ‘Was’ was right. It was almost nine o’clock at night so the birthday was almost gone. Only three hours left for it to be part of her past. “It was all right,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably.

  “Did you get the flowers I sent you?”

  “I did. They’re…beautiful.” That part was the truth. They’d arrived at her office early that morning and she’d taken them home with her. She was staring at them right now as they sat on top of the chest of drawers, a kaleidoscope of startlingly brilliant colors against the almond-white of the room. “Thank you.”

  “I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you but there was no way I could miss this conference.” His tone was apologetic. “I’m the keynote speaker.”

  “I know and I wouldn’t have you miss it just to be here on my birthday. There’ll be other birthdays.” She meant what she said. To be totally honest, she was glad Sloane wasn’t at home to see her mope. His presence would have been an additional strain on her because, even now, she would have to be faking cheerfulness so he wouldn’t feel bad for her. Being alone, at least she could sulk in peace.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “As soon as I get back we’ll plan a getaway. Do you want to do the Caribbean again? We could try St. Kitts. I hear the diving's great in Basseterre.”

  “Yeah, that sounds great. We can talk about it when you get back.” That didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic as she’d hoped but, depressed as she was, it was the best she could do.

  There was a pause on the phone line and when Sloane finally spoke his voice sounded strained. “Melanie, are you sure you’re all right? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she said, forcing into her tone as much liveliness as she could muster. “I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.” She gave a satisfied sigh. It was fake, of course, and only for Sloane’s benefit. “So how’s London, anyway? Did you get a chance to check out the city?”

  “London is London,” he said drily. “It's like my second home. Wonderful city, but after you’ve been here a few dozen times you basically know the place so well you stop getting excited . I'm more like an expat than a visitor. Quite a bit of rain here, though, and kind of chilly for August."

  “Aaw, that’s too bad,” she sympathized. “When you get back I promise I’ll warm you up real good. In fact,” she said, letting a naughty inflection slip into her voice, “just think about me and you in a variety of brand new positions. That should warm you up
while you’re standing in front of your audience.”

  That made him laugh. “Bad girl. Now that you’ve planted the picture in my mind you know I won’t be able to think of anything else.”

  “That’s the whole idea.” This time she was laughing along with him and her mirth was real.

  Sadly, by the time Sloane hung up and she’d lain back down among the pillows, the sadness returned. Within minutes silent tears were sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away. She just lay there, staring through the tears at the now blurry ball of color on top of the chest of drawers.

  But when the horrible lump in her throat climbed up and up until she could no longer hold it in she turned her face into the pillows, clutched them to her, and sobbed out her grief and pain.

  Nothing had worked. Not sex, not the vitamins and stress pills the doctor had prescribed, not the artificial insemination. She'd done intrauterine insemination, twice, with zero success. Now she felt like there was no more hope.

  And on top of her despair was the overwhelming feeling of guilt. She’d promised Sloane a baby, demanded it of him, and he’d put his trust in her and married her. And she’d failed.

  It just wasn’t fair. She’d wanted this so bad and worked so hard, to no avail. But mostly, she came to realize, it wasn’t fair to Sloane.

  Under these circumstances there was only one thing to do. She was going to give Sloane a chance at life, a chance to find someone who could give him the family he deserved.

  Before Sloane got back from London, she was going to leave.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Honey, I’m home.” Sloane had a smile on his face as he flicked on the light in the foyer and dumped his suitcase and briefcase on the floor. The flight from London had been long and dreary – that, after a delay of over two hours due to bad weather – but he was finally home.

  “Melanie, where are you?” he called out as he headed for the stairs. It was late but not that late. He hadn’t expected her to be in bed before ten. Then again, she’d probably had a long day at the office and decided to turn in early. When he’d called earlier that day she’d sounded distant, almost as if she didn’t have time to talk. He hadn’t pressed, knowing he’d probably caught her in the middle of a business meeting but now that he was home he was eager to see her, hold her, make mad love to her.

  And he had every intention of holding her to her promise. Making love in all kinds of new and crazy positions? As tired as he was, he was still willing and ready to try them all.

  He bounded up the stairs then strode toward the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he could see that there was no light inside. Strange. Melanie usually left the bedside lamp on until he got home.

  Gently, he opened the door wider and was on his way toward the bed when what he saw in the shadowy room made him freeze. The bed was still made up and there was no-one in it.

  Where the hell was Melanie?

  Immediately, he turned and walked back to the door where he flicked on the light. And that was when he saw the plain white sheet of paper lying in the middle of the bed.

  A sudden feeling of dread fell over him in a thick, grey cloud – something was seriously wrong. He went over to the bed and picked up the paper.

  “Dear Sloane, I’ve made a very painful decision but one which is for the best,” it said. “Our relationship is just not working and it’s time for me to move on. This is hard for me to say, especially since we’ve been through so much together, but it’s better to say it now rather than continue to live a lie. I can’t be with you anymore. I’ve found someone else…”

  What the fig?

  There was more but Sloane couldn’t read another word. He felt like the earth was shifting under his feet. Another man? Impossible.

  And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it really was impossible. Melanie couldn’t have someone else in her life. Where the hell would she have found the time?

  Between her hectic schedule, running Parker Broadcasting and her constant trips to Boston in her desperate effort to conceive, there was no way she could have fit an affair in between all that. There was definitely another story, the real story, and he was going to find out what it was.

  Sloane picked up the phone by the bed and dialed Melanie’s cell phone number. No answer. He slammed the receiver back down.

  Logically, she must have gone back to the house she owned in Westmount, her home before she’d gotten married. She hadn’t sold it and he knew the caretaker was still there. That was where he would start. If she didn’t want to talk to him on the phone then she’d have to talk to him face to face.

  After his flight from Europe Sloane was dead tired but there was no way he was going to let this wait until morning. He jumped into his Benz and hit the highway at top speed, never easing up until he screeched into the dimly lit driveway of Melanie’s old home. He hopped out of the car and ran up the steps to ring the doorbell. As the chimes echoed in the house he waited, shifting from one foot to the other, his insides wound so tight it was like they’d snap at any moment.

  A whole minute passed and no-one came to the door. He rang the doorbell again and thirty seconds later he was pressing it again. And after that he pressed the button over and over and over, filling the house with incessant chimes until finally a light came on in the hallway and the door opened to reveal Melanie, her eyes looking big and bruised, her mouth defiant.

  “Didn’t you see my note?” She folded her arms and planted her body in the doorway. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to take you home.”

  She straightened her back and glared at him. “Didn’t you read what I wrote? There’s no more ‘us’, Sloane. And I’m already home, right where I belong.”

  “You belong with me,” he growled. “Now let me come in so we can talk about this like adults.”

  She sucked in her breath. “What part of ‘we’re over’ don’t you understand? There’s no use talking. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Melanie, you either get in the car now or let me in so we can talk.”

  “I’m done talking.” As she said the words she was stepping back and pushing the door closed in his face.

  Sloane was not having it. There was no way he was leaving there without his wife. He jammed his foot in the entrance just in time to stop the door from slamming shut then he planted a hand on the heavy mahogany and pushed.

  Melanie stumbled back with a gasp of anger. “You can’t do this,” she snarled. “I don’t want to talk.”

  “You’re talking,” he growled and before she could sprint away he clasped her upper arm and steered her into the living room. “Now sit and talk.”

  She sat but she did not talk. She sat there glaring up at him, her mouth set in a mutinous pout.

  Sloane remained standing, arms folded, staring down at her. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to. The quicker you start talking, the quicker we can get this over with.”

  She just sat there, her lips tight, and even when he still stood there watching her she would not speak. It took about three minutes of this stand-off before an agonized sigh finally escaped her lips. “I don’t want to fight, Sloane. I just want to end this.”

  Her words sliced into him. How the hell had they gone from a happy marriage to this? “Why?”

  “Because…” She dropped her eyes and twisted her hands in her lap. “Because I’ve found someone else.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I want the truth.”

  Melanie’s body jerked and her eyes flew to his. She was obviously startled by his outburst but he didn’t give a damn. He was done with this game.

  “I want out…” she said, her voice trailing off.

  “Why?” he asked again. “What did I do to make you want to leave?”

  She shook her head as she stared up at him, her eyes big and bright with unshed tears. “Nothing. It’s all me. I’m just no good.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Confuse
d and frustrated, Sloane shoved his hands deep inside his pocket and expelled his breath. “What’s going on in that head of yours? And why would you make up a story about some fake man in your life? Are you so desperate to get away from me?”

  “I wanted a clean break,” she said, her voice tearful. “I thought that would do it. If I told you the real reason you might try to make me stay.” She shook her head. “But I can’t, Sloane. It’s not fair to you.”

  Sloane dropped down onto the couch beside her. “What is this real reason? Tell me.”

  She swallowed then drew in a deep breath. “I…can’t have your baby. I’ll never be able to give you an heir.” She sucked in her breath on a sob. “Don’t you see? It’s not fair to you. You need a future. I can’t give you that but someone else can.”

  “Melanie, Melanie, Melanie. What am I going to do with you?” Sloane shook his head. “Don’t you understand? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He reached out and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Baby or no baby, I want you in my life. I love you, Melanie. Don’t leave me. Please.”

  Melanie blinked and her eyes grew wide. “You…love me?”

  “Yes,” he said, releasing her chin. Now that he had her full attention he just wanted her to know the truth. His truth. “I love you more than anything. More than your dream of having a baby.” He reached down to take her hand in his. “When I asked you to marry me it was you I wanted, not your promise of a baby. I married you for you.”

  “But…you hardly even knew me.”

  Sloane looked down at their clasped hands as his mind wandered back to that day. It was true. He hadn’t really known Melanie at all. “It’s weird,” he said, his speech slow even as he tried to process things himself, “but from the day I saw you back in high school I never forgot you. When you took over your father’s business I saw you in the press from time to time but, even then, you were a distant dream. But when you walked into my office that day, I felt it.” His hands tightened around hers and he looked at her, searching her eyes, trying to make her understand. “I didn’t understand it myself but I knew it was fate. Our destiny. It was the sign I’d been waiting for all my life.”