More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh: More Than a Millionaire / The Untamed Sheikh

She tossed the document back at him. He made no effort to catch it. The pages fluttered to the desk. “I don’t care about your terms. Go back to your surrogate.”

“And forget I’ve already fathered one child?”

“Yes. You have no emotional investment here and no financial obligation. You can have another baby much easier than I can. I will carry this child for nine months. Your contribution only took seconds.”

“You’re only eight weeks pregnant. You haven’t had time to bond.”

Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it closed. “Spoken like a man who doesn’t have a clue. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She’d begun bonding from the first moment she’d noticed her taste buds had gone crazy—just days after conception and even before the positive pregnancy test. She remembered the exact moment she’d realized she was pregnant with Patrick’s baby.

According to him it wasn’t Patrick’s baby.

He might be wrong. Please, please let him be wrong.

“I’m sorry. I’m not going to believe your story without proof.”

“You have it.” He indicated the letter by dipping his chin.

“This is not enough.” She’d go through the clinic’s records personally, if need be. And if that didn’t work…there was always DNA testing. How soon could that be done? And was it safe for the baby? She jotted down the questions to ask her doctor.

Her visitor’s jawline hardened. “You’re only twenty-eight. You have time to have other children.”

Unlikely, since her heart was already taken. “You’re not exactly ancient.”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“Women have a shorter window of opportunity for reproducing than men. You can keep fathering children for another fifty years.”

His lips thinned in irritation. “I want a child now, and I’m not walking away and leaving the door open for you to sue me for child support.”

The jerk’s personality did not improve with exposure. Usually she could find something to like about even the most difficult person. Not so here. Other than his physical packaging which was prime.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that any problem could be solved with patience, politeness and perseverance. Her three P’s never let her down.

“I would never do that, Mr. Patrick. I don’t want or expect anything from you.”

His eyebrows lowered. “You expect me to take the word of a stranger?”

She was too busy reeling over the possibility that she might be carrying a stranger’s baby to care what he thought.

“I’m not interested in your money, and I’m willing to have my attorney draft a document stating that fact and relieving you of all responsibility.”

“That would be useless. You’d have eighteen years to change your mind.”

She wanted to smack him. “Mr. Patrick, I couldn’t give you this child even if I wanted to—which I don’t.”

She pressed her fingertips to her stomach and gathered the words that had become her mantra since she’d committed to this plan. “This baby is not mine. I’m carrying it for my sister and brother-in-law.”

Who might not want the baby if it wasn’t Patrick’s.

Oh my God.

Panic tightened her chest. A cold sweat seeped through her pores. What was she going to do? She certainly wasn’t handing her baby to this knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who acted as if giving up her child would be as easy as giving a panhandler the change from her pocket.

“You’re acting as a surrogate for someone else?”

His clipped words interrupted her chaotic thoughts. “Yes. Patrick Ryan is my brother-in-law.”

“How much is he paying you?”

Appalled, she reared back. “Nothing. This is a gift.”

“I’m offering a hundred thousand, plus expenses. You’re going to give up the kid. Why not to me? You can have his kid next year.”

His cavalier attitude winded her. “I’m not a broodmare.”

She’d geared herself up to do this once. She didn’t think she could handle giving a baby away a second time.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“No, thank you. I gave my word.” For once she wanted to come through for Beth instead of having Beth make all the sacrifices for her. She owed her sister a huge debt.

And she wanted to give Patrick something Beth couldn’t.

Not nice, Nicole.

“Tell her you changed your mind. If the egg is yours, then the child is in no way hers or her husband’s.”

She flinched and wished he’d quit reminding her of that.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. If the baby wasn’t Patrick’s then it was hers.

Hers and the Neanderthal’s.

“I signed a contract,” she said more to herself than to him. So where did that leave her? Was the contract even valid if the baby wasn’t Patrick’s?

“Contracts can be broken.”

She needed to talk to her lawyer before tackling the legalities. “You don’t understand. I will be this child’s aunt. I’ll see it almost every day. I’ll get to watch him or her grow up and be a part of its life. I’ll still be family.”

She hated the anxiety sharpening her voice. The idea had sounded so much better before her pregnancy had been confirmed. “Go back to your surrogate.”

“You’re carrying my firstborn and firstborn Patricks have taken over the family firm for three generations.”

“What if my child doesn’t want to be an architect?”

One dark eyebrow hiked. “Why wouldn’t he?”