The Baby Bargain

by Dallas Schulze

  "The little girl that was with them when we first saw them? She's yours?"

  "Technically." There were traces of pain in the casual confirmation. "But by every important measure she's Michael's."

  No wonder he wanted this child so desperately. Kelly's hand unconsciously sought the slight bulge of her stomach. No wonder he'd reacted so violently when she had asked him for money for an abortion. He'd already lost a child.

  Later it might surprise her to realize that her first thought was for the pain he'd felt, the pain he still felt. Later she'd wonder that her heart had seemed to crack a little over his hurt. Later she'd be able to see that this didn't really affect her own situation.

  But right now all she wanted was to ease the taut lines that bracketed his mouth. She wanted to go back in time and change things, make his hurt go away.

  "That must have been terrible for you." She put her hand up, touching the hard line of his cheek. The light touch made him start. His eyes, which had been focused inward on things only he could see, were suddenly seeing her.

  Seeing the compassion in her eyes, he felt something break loose inside him, some long-held wall he'd put up to block the pain. Putting his arms around her seemed the most natural thing in the world. He held her to him, her cheek pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt.

  They stayed like that for a moment, saying nothing, holding each other. It might have ended at that, a moment's comfort, nothing more. But when Kelly started to draw back, she turned her head slightly and found her mouth a whisper away from Dan's.

  Her heart seemed to stop beating. He was so close. Too close, her head whispered. Not close enough, her heart replied. She had to move away. No, she wasn't close enough.

  Their eyes met, so near his eyes seemed almost silver instead of blue. He seemed to be asking something, a question she couldn't begin to answer. Her fingers flexed against his chest— drawing him closer or pushing him away—she didn't know.

  But when he closed the tiny distance between them, her mouth was soft and ready for him. Her lashes drifted down, shutting out everything but the feel of Dan's lips on hers.

  This was a kiss like no other they had shared. Emotions already stretched tight were suddenly all spinning into focus on this one kiss. There was no tentative exploration either wanted or needed.

  Kelly's mouth opened for his as a flower opening to the sun. He tasted of bourbon, a smoky taste that was strangely erotic.

  Her scent filled his head until he could think of nothing but the need that had been burning in his gut for days. Weeks. A fire that hadn't gone out since the first night he had touched her. His fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress, sliding it downward with a soft rasp.

  Kelly gasped at the first touch of his hands against her bare skin. She pulled her head back, her eyes meeting his. In his was passion and reassurance. If she chose, he'd stop. She could

  only imagine what he read in her eyes. A confused tangle of emotion and thought.

  His palm flattened against her spine, his fingers moving restlessly against her back. She could feel the need that hummed in him, making his body taut and hard against hers.

  He wanted her. No one else had ever wanted her. No one in her life had ever needed her. No one but Dan. And she wanted and needed him. If that was a sin, then she'd answer for it later. For now, she didn't want to think of anything but how good it felt to be held in his arms.

  He must have read her answer in her eyes. The look that flashed into his eyes made Kelly's bones melt. He bent to catch her behind the knees, scooping her up in his arms in a movement that stole what little breath she had left

  The bedroom was warm and dark. The curtains were open, letting moonlight spill into the room, creating silvery patterns of light and shadow. Dan set Kelly down next to the bed, cupping her face in his hands, holding her for the possession of his mouth.

  Slowly his palms slid down to her shoulders, taking the dress with them as they stroked down her arms. It fell to lie around her feet in an ivory pool. Her bra straps lay across her upper arms but only for a moment. Dan found the back closing and slipped the hooks loose and the bra joined the dress on the floor.

  Kelly shuddered as his hands came up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing across the sensitive peaks. He held her like that, his mouth exploring the delicate line of her throat, his hands teasing her nipples into hardness, until Kelly thought she would surely die of pleasure. And then his tongue swirled lazily across her breast to curl around one swollen nipple and she knew she was going to die.

  Clothing seemed to melt away like wisps of fog, until nothing lay between them but the white-gold moonlight. Dan eased her back onto the bed but didn't immediately follow her down. He only looked at her as if wanting to imprint every inch of her on his memory.

  Kelly's hands came up to cover the gentle swell of her belly, suddenly shy.

  "No, don't/' Dan's hands caught hers, drawing them away as he knelt next to the bed. His palms flattened over the swell that cradled his child. Still so slight that he could cover it with his two hands.

  "I look fat," Kelly whispered.

  "You look beautiful," he corrected. "So beautiful."

  Kelly knew that it wasn't true, but he made her feel beautiful. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her—she could truly believe she was beautiful.

  He made love to her as if they had all the time in the world, touching and teasing, coaxing a response she was helpless to prevent. Only when she was breathless with wanting, her nails digging into his arms in a plea she couldn't put into words, did he rise above her, his thighs slipping between hers.

  Kelly felt the hard pressure of his desire against that most intimate part of her and she quivered with sudden uncertainty, remembering the last time, the pain, the confusion.

  Dan felt her hesitation and he stopped. His body screamed with the need to join with hers but he didn't move, watching her in the moonlight, waiting for her decision.

  Kelly was torn between the warm liquid weight that throbbed in the pit of her stomach—the part of her that knew this was right, that nothing could ever be so right again. And a deeply feminine fear.

  But this was Dan, who had promised he'd never hurt her. And she believed him. With all her heart she believed him. Her hands relaxed on his shoulders, her body softening beneath him, giving him her trust without words.

  Dan's head lowered, his mouth settling over hers as he flexed his hips, completing their union ever so slowly. He could taste Kelly's uncertainty changing to dawning pleasure as her body stretched to accommodate his. Beads of sweat marked his forehead when they were at last fully joined.

  He waited, his muscles knotted with effort, giving Kelly time to adjust to this new sensation, determined that she would know the full potential of her woman's body. When her hips arched

  upward in an unconscious demand, he began to move, gently at first, letting her set the pace.

  It wasn't long before she was trembling beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tension coiled tighter within her. His mouth caught hers, drinking in her sounds of wonder as the pleasure intensified.

  Kelly could only cling to him, the only solid thing in the universe. With each movement, each thrust of his hips, she was drawn closer and closer to something she could only barely perceive.

  And then suddenly it exploded inside her, pleasure so intense she nearly fainted. She held onto Dan as wave after wave of ecstasy shivered over her, each greater than the last, bringing her higher and higher until she was dizzy with the intensity of it.

  Dan felt her body turn to liquid in his arms, felt the unmistakable tightening of her around him, caught the startled gasp that broke from her. With a groan, he released the iron control he'd been holding over his own needs.

  Kelly felt him tremble above her and she was filled with a sense of purely feminine wonder and power that this man should tremble because of her.

  It was a long time before Dan rolled to the side, dr
awing her close even as she murmured in protest at his leaving. She felt as if she had just battled a mighty storm and won. Now she lay exhausted on the battleground, wanting nothing more than sleep. She was sated and fulfilled in a way she'd never known before.

  They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

  It was still early when Kelly woke. Sunshine spilled into the room, painting cheerful patterns across the floor before falling over the foot of the bed. She couldn't ever remember feeling quite so warm and cozy, she thought, blinking sleepily at the dust motes that danced in the stream of light.

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to face the new day, wanting only to hold onto the vague but wonderful dreams that were fading from her mind. But the dreams wouldn't come back and

  the day wasn't going to go away. She couldn't pretend that she didn't know where she was or who was with her.

  Dan was curled along her back, his chest pressed to her back, his legs drawn up beneath hers, wrapping her in his warmth. His arm lay over her side, one hand spread over the mound of her stomach, as if holding their child—his child, she corrected herself, feeling the last mists of sleep melting away.

  He mumbled in his sleep as she eased out of the bed but he didn't wake. It struck her that she had snuck out of bed the last time they'd made love, too. There was a difference this time. This time she wasn't running away like a frightened little girl. There was nowhere to run even if she'd wanted to go.

  She slipped on the robe that lay draped over the chair, belting it securely around her middle. Moving to the window, she looked out at the park. It was deserted this early on Sunday morning, but later in the day there would be plenty of people enjoying the sunshine and cool grass. Children, families, people who had commitments to one another.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Behind her, Dan stirred, the sheets rustling as he turned over.

  Last night had been a mistake.

  Kelly had to force herself to think the words. The most incredible, wonderful experience of her life had been a mistake. For the first time in her life she'd felt beautiful, wanted, even loved, and it couldn't happen again.

  She'd broken every promise she had made to herself to keep some distance between herself and Dan. She could no longer pretend to keep any emotional distance from the child she carried. Giving up this child was going to be like ripping away a piece of her soul. But she could do it because she knew it was the best thing for the baby.

  She should have kept some distance from Dan. She could have saved a little piece of herself, kept just a little of the hurt away. Instead, she'd gone and made the biggest mistake of her life. Oh, not sleeping with him. That had only compounded an even bigger mistake.

  She had fallen in love with him.

  She closed her eyes against the sting of tears she refused to let fall. Okay, so she'd fallen in love with him. That didn't mean she had to walk headlong into more pain.

  Opening her eyes, she blinked rapidly to dry her lashes. It wasn't too late to pull back, to protect herself, save some part of herself from hurt.

  "Good morning." Dan's voice was husky with sleep, his arms still bed warmed as they stole around her, drawing her back against his hard body. He bent to kiss the side of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "You're up early."

  He turned her in his arms, his mouth closing over hers in a kiss that was both greeting and invitation. For a moment, Kelly allowed herself to melt against him, her mouth soft under his.

  "Come back to bed," he whispered, his teeth nibbling at her lower lip.

  "No." The word was weak at first but it was stronger when she repeated it. "No."

  She pushed away, sidestepping around him, keeping her eyes turned from his magnificent naked body.

  "No? Okay. I'm not going to push."

  Kelly almost left it there, taking the easy way out. She could deal with it later. But it wasn't going to get any easier. She squared her shoulders, trying to look as if just the sight of him didn't turn her knees to jelly.

  "I mean 'no' permanently." He had been reaching for the slacks he'd discarded the night before but her words made him turn, the slacks dangling from one hand, his brows arched.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean last night was a mistake," she said. Her voice held enough conviction to make him see that she was serious.

  "A mistake? Why?"

  "It's nothing you did," she said hastily, wishing he would put some clothes on. "I shouldn't have let it happen. It was a mistake."

  "You keep saying that but you don't say why." To her relief, he stepped into the pants. It would be easier to talk with him at least partially dressed.

  "It wasn't part of our deal."

  "Damn the deal/' Dan said, showing irritation for the first time. "We'll make a new deal."

  "Not with sex as part of it," she said steadily. "I shouldn't have slept with you last night."

  "Why not? It isn't like we don't know each other and like each other. At least, I thought we had developed a certain understanding between the two of us. Was I wrong?"

  "It was a mistake," she repeated, hanging onto her control by the skin of her teeth.

  "Would you stop saying that! Dammit, you didn't think it was a mistake last night when you were in my arms."

  She turned her back to him, feeling her convictions wavering. She had to protect herself. And she couldn't do that if she remained his lover. She would begin to hope for too much, leave herself open for too much pain.

  "It was a mistake. I won't do it again."

  "Why the hell not!" He stared at her, exasperated. "It's not like it's the first time."

  The words seemed to fall like stones into a quiet pool, their impact rippling endlessly outward. Kelly looked at him, her eyes showing the shock of their impact That he could so callously refer to that first night, as though it had been a casual encounter. Which, of course, she supposed it had been, at least for him.

  "Kelly..."

  She turned as if he hadn't spoken, her back rigid as she walked away.

  "Kelly, wait." When she didn't react, Dan stepped forward, catching her arm and drawing her to a stop.

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that"

  "Let go of me." Her voice was cool, completely expressionless.

  "We need to talk."

  "I don't feel like talking right now," she said politely, pulling her arm away. "If you'll excuse me."

  He let her go, staying where he was until he heard the bathroom door close behind her and then the distinctly separate sound of the lock clicking into place.

  "Idiot." He muttered to himself. "Open mouth—insert foot all the way to the thigh." He stripped off last night's slacks, grabbing jeans and a shirt and tugging them on with vicious force.

  He had hurt her. The last thing on earth he'd wanted to do. Hadn't he promised he would never hurt her? Of course, he'd been specifically referring to physical hurts, but that didn't mean he had the right to inflict emotional injuries.

  After last night all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms. Last night her response had been everything he'd ever dreamed of, everything a man could possibly ask for. He had awakened this morning, sure that they'd reached a new understanding. They could define just what that understanding was later. But there was no doubt that things had changed between them.

  Obviously they had but not in the way he'd thought. He knew last night had been as satisfying for her as it had been for him. She didn't have the experience to know just how extraordinary it had been, but he'd felt her shivering in his arms, felt her reach a shuddering completion.

  Dammit! She'd enjoyed their lovemaking and she'd fallen asleep in his arms as if she belonged there. There had been a feeling of lightness about it, a feeling that this was where they were meant to be.

  Her attitude this morning had been completely unexpected. It had thrown him as off balance as if he'd walked off a step that wasn't there. He hadn't been prepared
to hear her say that what they'd shared had been a mistake. Even so, that was no excuse for what he'd said.

  Dressed, he hesitated, wondering if he should try to talk to her. But she hadn't looked as if she was in any mood to talk, at least not to him. Maybe if he gave her a chance to forget what an idiot he'd been...

  Angry with himself and the world in general, he stalked out of the apartment.

  Kelly sagged against the bathroom door when she heard the front door shut behind him. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or sorry that he hadn't tried to talk to her again. Now at least she didn't have to worry about what to say to him.

  Letting herself out of the bathroom, she walked back into the bedroom, feeling tears well up when she saw the tousled bed. She blinked them back furiously. Crying wasn't going to change anything.

  Her first impulse was to pack a bag and leave. She didn't want to be here when Dan came home. She didn't want to have to see him again. She could just run away. She'd find some way to take care of herself.

  And the baby?

  Sinking down on the edge of the bed, Kelly set one hand on her stomach. A wave of despair washed over her. Things hadn't changed all that much, after all. She might have nicer clothes but she still didn't have anywhere to go. True, she had a driver's license and the little compact car Dan had bought from his friend Lee so that she'd have something to drive.

  She could take the car and a few of the clothes. There was nearly a thousand doDars in the checking account Dan had opened for her. It sounded like a fortune. Surely it was enough to get her a start on a new life.

  But a thousand dollars wasn't going to last very long. And then she'd be alone and without money, without a way to earn a decent living. Wasn't that why she'd come to Dan in the first place? Because she didn't want that for her baby?

  Dan. He'd already lost a child. Could she take this one away from him? He hadn't meant to hurt her. Given time to think, she knew that. It wasn't his fault she'd been foolish enough to fall in love with him. It wasn't his fault that the longer she carried this child, the more it was a part of her, the more impossible it began to seem that she could ever give it away, even to him.