No Ring Required: Millionaire's Calculated Baby Bid

Sybil nodded. “He’s expecting you.”

After the woman walked away, Mary gripped the knob and pushed the door open. For a good thirty seconds after entering the large room, Mary thought she’d just stepped into kid’s fantasyland, Chucky Cheese. But since she didn’t smell pizza or see a large, furry gray animal with whiskers, she knew she must be in Ethan’s game room.

The room was a perfect square, with one wall devoted to windows that faced the backyard and lake. It was as if the room was meant to have a screen or drape down the center as a divider, as the right side was completely devoted to every arcade game imaginable. Being a fan of arcades from way back, Mary recognized skeet ball right away and smiled wistfully. There was also basketball, air hockey, pound the squirrel, racecar games and many more she saw but wasn’t familiar with. Then there was the left side of the room, which couldn’t have been more different. It was an office, with a very modern desk and furnishings in charcoal gray and chrome, and in the middle of it sat Ethan, reading the newspaper.

She had an urge to turn around and leave before he saw her, but instead she walked into the room and parked herself beside the foosball table. “Quite a setup you got here.”

Still hidden behind the New York Times, Ethan muttered a terse, “These are all the things I couldn’t afford when I was a kid. I wanted to have them now.”

Mary Kelley was no genius, but she sure understood his meaning: he’d had nothing growing up and was hoping to give this to his child. The child he’d thought was coming. The child he’d blackmailed a woman into creating with him.

She got it, and she felt Sybil’s pain, and she, too, rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he have been in his library beside the bar drinking like any normal pissed-off male?

She fiddled with the handles on the foosball table. “Do you play?”

“I rarely play games,” he said, still masked by the Times.

Neither did she, and she was having quite enough of this one. “Listen, you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah.” The paper came down with a snap, and Mary saw his face for the first time since they’d stood outside the doctor’s office and she’d told him the truth. As he stood and walked over to her, he looked like a determined, really angry devil, his black hair slightly spiky and his blue eyes fierce with a need to hurt. He stood close, stared into her eyes and said in a punishing voice, “I have never felt such disgust with anyone in my life.”

It was a strange thing—in that moment, spurred on by those words, Mary’s nerves suddenly lifted and she was no longer afraid of what he was going to do about her and her father. The only thing she felt in the moment was the need to strike back. “I know that feeling. I had it about a month ago. But we were standing in your office, not your playroom.”

His eyes blazed. “What you did was beyond low.”

“You’re right.”

“And you have nothing to say.”

“Just this. Need I remind you that you basically forced me into—”

“I never forced you to do anything,” he interrupted darkly. “It was your choice—”

“Choice?” she repeated. Was he kidding? “What choice did I have? Tell me that?”

“You could have walked away.”

“And left my dad to…what? Go to jail. Never.” She glared at him. “But you don’t understand that kind of devotion, do you? You’ve never loved anyone that much—so damn much that you’d make a great sacrifice for them.”

His gaze slipped to her belly.

She shook her head, not about to pity him. “No, Mr. Curtis. That wasn’t a sacrifice. That was a need to be met, a blue-blooded medal to hang around your neck to make you finally feel worthy.” His nostrils flared, and he looked dangerously close to exploding, but Mary wouldn’t back down. “At least the child would’ve belonged to the old-money club, right? And maybe you, too, by association? No, it doesn’t work that way.” She was yelling now, frustrated at him, at herself. “They don’t care about association, they only care about blood. Can you get that through your thick skull?”

When she stopped ranting, they both stood there, face-to-face, breathing heavily. His eyes had lost some of their heat and she wondered if she’d finally gotten through to him. But he didn’t answer her, not that she expected him to. He had too much pride. Instead, he did as all highly successful business persons do—he went for the jugular.

“You’re wondering if I’m going to file charges against your father now, aren’t you?” he said evenly, his tone cool.

Mary wasn’t about to deny it. “Of course.”

“I’m not.”

Shock slammed into her and she actually stuttered. “Wh-why?”

With a casual shrug, he left her and wandered over to the air hockey table where he picked up a paddle and examined it. “I’ve decided to close that chapter.”

Mary couldn’t contain her relief. Her father didn’t have to worry about court or jail ever again. She wasn’t about to thank Ethan, but she could feel the tension drain from her body and she sagged against the foosball table.

“But I do want something from you.”

Ethan’s words sent a shock of alarm through her tired limbs. “What?”

“Mackinac Island.”

Oh, no. The trip to the beautiful Michigan island. She was supposed to have planned a party there, served as hostess, but how could that ever happen now? “You want me to recommend someone to take my place, right?” she asked hopefully.

“No.”

“You can’t be seriously considering—”

He slammed the paddle down and glared at her. “Believe me when I say I would rather bring a python with me on this trip. But your reputation has preceeded you, and I need that party to go off without a problem.”

No way. She couldn’t. There was too much between them. She shook her head. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing,” she assured him, straightening up, forcing her legs to hold her weight and not buckle.

His voice dropped and his lips thinned dangerously. “Don’t think I wouldn’t reconsider opening that paternal book again if I have to.”

She shook her head, knowing she was cornered. “You’re really good at blackmail.”

He lifted one sardonic eyebrow. “I’ll protect my business any way I have to.”

“Clearly.”

“Just as you would, Mary. Mine is administrative business and yours would be personal business.”

The idea that they were in any way alike made Mary’s blood jump in her veins, but she knew when her choices were few. “This will be our final business endeavor together.”

He nodded. “After the last guest has left my party, Ms. Kelley, you and I can pretend that we’ve never met each other. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

Eight (#ulink_ae0213e9-86fe-5cfb-b93f-9b7123893b24)

The airport was packed, but Mary maneuvered her way through the crowds with the fierce determination of a woman going to war. According to the itinerary Ethan’s secretary had sent over yesterday morning, the plan was to fly to Chicago, then to Pellston Airport in Michigan, then take a cab to the Mackinac Island ferry. After their declarations of mutual disgust for each other, Mary was more than a little shocked that she and Ethan would be traveling together. She could’ve easily caught her own flight and met him at the hotel, but he’d insisted they make the trip together.

After checking in and making it through security without a body search, Mary headed over to the gate to wait for Ethan. She winced as she slid her carryon bag off her shoulder and onto one of the hard plastic chairs.