In Bed With...Collection

He frowned. ‘Got to take care of yourself during pregnancy,’ he said bruskly. ‘My first wife—Bryce’s mother—had a hard time of it. Kidney problems. Shouldn’t have had a child at all. Died when Bryce was only a toddler.’

The brusk tone carried shades of old pain, instantly cooling Sunny’s fighting instincts and stirring her sympathy. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I really want to have a baby, so you can be sure I’ll take every care when I do fall pregnant, Mr. Templar.’

‘Yes, well, no time to waste,’ he said gruffly. ‘Bryce isn’t getting any younger. He’s thirty-four, you know. Should have started a family years ago.’

‘A bit difficult when I only met Sunny this week,’ Bryce drawled, his eyes mocking his father’s contention. ‘And you can hardly accuse me of wasting time once I met the right woman.’

His gaze shifted to Sunny and she basked in the warmth of it, feeling more and more that she truly was right for him, and he was right for her. A hasty marriage it might be, but she certainly didn’t repent her decision…yet.

‘Got an answer for everything,’ Will Templar grumbled. ‘Sunny, you’re hogging those dips. While I’m happy to see you have a healthy appetite, I like them, too.’

‘Would you like me to spread some on the chips for you?’ Sunny immediately offered.

‘I can help myself if you’ll kindly pass them up.’

‘Not thinking of yourself as an invalid anymore?’ Bryce archly commented as Sunny obliged.

‘I can handle a bit of finger food.’ He glowered at Bryce. ‘I see you’re feeling on top of things, just because you got married.’

‘I generally am on top of things, Dad. I work at it. Which is why you made me CEO, remember?’

‘Well, don’t be getting too cocky about it…counting chickens before they hatch. Damian called me yesterday.’

‘Nice for you that he keeps in touch.’ Bryce slanted a wry smile at Sunny. ‘Damian is my half-brother. Dad’s son by his third wife.’

‘A very caring son, too,’ Will Templar declared, pausing to give the statement weight, and eyeing Bryce with a very definite glint of challenge. ‘Told me his wife’s pregnant.’

Bryce nodded affably. ‘I must call and congratulate them.’

‘Giving me a grandchild before you do.’

Sunny sensed the threat behind the words and instantly felt uneasy. Was Will Templar playing one son off against another, with the position of CEO as the prize? If so, there was a factor in his marriage decision that Bryce hadn’t told her about. She looked sharply at him but discerned no rise of tension in his demeanour.

He smiled, maintaining an affable front. ‘I’m glad you’ll be getting in some practice as a grandfather before Sunny and I have a child. In fact, maybe we should wait a while, simply enjoy having each other before Sunny gets pregnant. I believe a baby needs to be welcomed and loved for itself…’ His lips were still curved into a smile but his eyes hardened to green flint as he softly added, ‘…not used as a pawn.’

Suddenly the air between father and son was so thick with threat and counter-threat, it could have been cut with a knife.

Sunny knew intuitively Bryce would not back off. And she didn’t want him to. What he’d stated was what she believed, as well, although she didn’t really want to wait. Not long, anyway. All the same, she understood that pleasing his father was one thing, being dictated to was quite another. Bryce would not be the man he was if he tamely succumbed to his father’s string-pulling.

She was startled when Will Templar abruptly switched his focus to her. ‘Do you want to wait a while, Sunny?’ he demanded rather than asked.

‘I think husband and wife should be in total agreement on when they have a baby and it’s no one else’s business but theirs,’ she said slowly, keeping her wits alert to the undercurrents. ‘I’m sure Bryce would consider what I want, every bit as much as I would consider what he wants.’

Will Templar leaned forward, boring in. ‘Do you realise I still have the power to strip Bryce of his position in the company?’

Sunny felt her spine bristling. Her eyes locked onto the older man’s and fought fire with fire. ‘I didn’t marry Bryce for his position, Mr. Templar.’

‘What did you marry him for?’

‘I fancied him rotten and I thought he’d make a great father for the children I want.’

‘You fancied him rotten?’

Either he was unfamiliar with the term or she’d knocked him off his power perch. Sunny decided to play her hand to the hilt.

‘Mmm…’ She gave Bryce a smouldering look. ‘He has a way of inspiring the most terrible lust in me.’

He smouldered right back. ‘The inspiration goes both ways.’

‘Enough!’ Will Templar snapped. ‘You don’t have to prove you’re besotted with each other at my table!’

Bryce shrugged. ‘Actually, we don’t have to prove anything, Dad. We just came to visit.’

‘Fine visit this is…not even opening the bottle of champagne.’

‘I’ll be happy to open it,’ Bryce said, lifting the bottle out of the ice bucket. ‘Ready for a glass now, Sunny?’

‘Yes. Thank you. These dips really are delicious.’

‘Are you always so direct?’ his father demanded of her.

Sunny frowned quizzically at him. ‘Weren’t you being direct with me, Mr. Templar?’

He looked somewhat disgruntled. ‘Just testing your mettle.’

‘Did I pass the test?’

He snorted. ‘It’s plain you and Bryce are two of a kind.’

‘Is that good or bad?’ Sunny queried.

For the first time she saw a flash of respect in his eyes. ‘You can call me Will.’

‘Thank you.’ She smiled warmly. ‘I take that as a real compliment.’

‘So you should.’ He visibly thawed. ‘Just see that boy of mine starts fathering real soon. Can’t wait forever for a grandchild, you know.’

From which Sunny deduced it was Bryce’s child he most wanted to see, not Damian’s.

That thought stayed with her long after the lunch visit was over and Will Templar had conveyed his rather crotchety blessing on the marriage and expressed his pointed hope that their honeymoon would be productive.

The chauffeur transported them to the L’Auberge Inn which was nestled along the bank of a pretty, tree-lined creek and surrounded by towering red cliffs. It had a European-style lodge, supplying luxurious amenities for resident guests, and the secluded cottage Bryce had booked for the night was very romantically furnished in a rich, French provincial style.

‘May I say how delighted I am that you fancy me rotten,’ Bryce tossed at her the moment they were alone.

She laughed and repeated her smouldering look. ‘Your father clearly does not see you through the eyes of a woman.’

‘I’m only interested in your eyes, Sunny,’ he said seriously, enfolding her in his embrace. ‘You handled my father brilliantly, but…can I believe every word you said?’