The Baby Bonus

Regan gritted her teeth at his use of the pet name he’d saddled her with years ago. Trying to instill ice in her voice she asked, “What do you want, Cole?”

His eyes darkened, gleamed a liquid silver, sparking memories of the nights she’d lain naked in his arms. He arched a brow. “Should I consider that an invitation?”

Color flashed up Regan’s cheeks, and she cursed her fair skin when she saw his lips twist into a smile. “Hardly,” she replied. Oh God, it simply wasn’t fair. At thirty-three, Cole was even more handsome now than he’d been at twenty-one. His hair was shorter, but just as thick and still as dark as midnight. There were faint lines etched at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there twelve years ago, lines that made him look harder, colder, she thought. But his eyes were still that same incredible shade of gray capable of going from frost to molten silver in an instant. His long lean body didn’t sport any extra pounds that she could detect, and she’d lay odds that the muscles beneath his designer shirt and suit were still as hard as steel. Unable to stop herself, she stared at his mouth—the mouth that had kissed her with such hunger, had tasted every inch of her body, had whispered promises of love.

“You still blush like a schoolgirl, princess,” he told her. “How is that possible?”

Flustered, Regan stood. “I don’t have time for games, Cole. I have a business to run. So why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

His mouth hardened a moment, but instead of answering, he perched himself on the edge of her table and picked up the ring she’d been working on. “Far be it from me to waste your valuable time. After all,” he said, looking from the ring to her, “I know firsthand what a high priority you place on business. That’s why I’m here. To discuss business.”

The word business hit Regan like a slap. Immediately she recalled the gorgeous redhead who had accompanied him to the fundraiser at the city’s aquarium last year. Regan’s business, her primary business, was designing one-of-a-kind rings for Exclusives. Her throat grew tight. He couldn’t possibly expect her to design a ring for his lover, she told herself. Not even Cole would be that cruel.

Unless he felt he had a reason to be cruel. And, in Cole’s eyes, he believed he had a reason. He thought she had betrayed him. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t. He’d never believed her when she’d come to him later and tried to explain the reasons she’d had their marriage annulled, that she’d done it to save him. The result had been the same. She’d hurt him, had ripped his pride to shreds at a time when pride was all he’d had. What better payback than to commission her to design his future wife’s wedding ring? Regan stared at the ring in Cole’s hand and recalled the day he’d placed a thin gold band on her finger and promised to love her always. Always had only lasted ten days. Pain sliced through Regan, razor-sharp, at the memory. Deserving or not and no matter how badly she could use the sale and publicity, she refused to subject herself to that kind of misery. “As I said, I’m very busy. I’ll get my assistant to help you.”

“Like hell you will!” Quick as a snap he was off the table and in her face. “I’m not dealing with any assistant on something this important. I’m dealing with you, princess. And only you.”

Staggered by his sudden shift from cool control to white-hot fury, Regan took a step back. Emotions tumbled through her at breakneck speed, and she recalled the other two times she’d seen Cole in the grips of a temper like this—the day she’d told him she wanted an annulment and the day she’d told him she’d lost their baby. She drew in a calming breath. “I’d like you to leave.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “What’s the matter, princess? Changed your mind again? It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?”

Regan frowned, confused as much by Cole’s remarks as by his hostility. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and, to tell you the truth, I don’t really care. I just want you to go.”

“Not a chance.”

Regan’s pulse danced uneasily at the steely determination in his voice. “Then you leave me no choice but to call the police and have you removed,” she said with more conviction than she felt. She started toward the phone, when suddenly Slugger decided he hadn’t finished playing games for the day. Her stomach dipped. A wave of nausea rolled through her. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, and tried to move past Cole before she lost what was left of her lunch in front of him.

Cole blocked her path. “I don’t think so. Not until we talk.”

“Get out of my way,” she commanded, fighting back the nausea climbing up her throat. “I mean it, Cole. Get out of my way, or you’re going to be sorry.”

“Sorrier than you were twelve years ago when you realized what a mistake you made by marrying a poor bastard? Oh, I forgot, my being a bastard isn’t quite so bad now that I have money, is it?”

For a moment the dots in front of her eyes cleared, as the full measure of his bitterness hit her. Regan blinked back the tears of anger and hurt stinging her eyes. “Go to hell.”

“No thanks, sweetheart, I’ve already been there once because of you. And I have no intention of going back. In fact, now that you’re pregnant, I—”

The shock of his words hit Regan like a punch, and on its heels came another wave of nausea. She clamped one hand over her mouth and used the other to shove past him. Cole caught her shoulder, pulled her around to face him. Then it was too late. She upchucked all over his expensive black shoes.

Stunned, Cole stood frozen for several seconds. As he battled through the anger that had gripped him at Regan’s dismissal, he registered her paper-white pallor, the beads of sweat dotting her brow.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, a horrified expression on her face, before she broke free and fled.

“Regan, wait,” Cole shouted, charging after her. He skidded to a halt when the bathroom door swung shut, barely missing his nose. He pounded on the door with his fist. “Regan!”

“Go away!”

Concerned, he twisted the doorknob, found the thing locked. “Open the door, Regan.”

“Go away!”

Not a chance. Liz hadn’t told him that she was sick. Regan never got sick—at least not that he could remember. Even during her short pregnancy years ago, she hadn’t suffered so much as an hour of morning sickness. She hadn’t been sick a single day—until the miscarriage.

Suddenly the idea that Regan and his baby could be in any danger had the blood chilling in his veins. Damn! He should never have baited her the way he had, recalling the way the color had drained from her cheeks when he’d lashed out at her. He washed a hand down his face, shamed by his actions. Worse, he was scared. If something happened to her or the baby, it would be his fault. His insides suddenly churning, Cole raised his fist but forced himself to tap on the door, gently this time. “Princess? Are you all right?”

When she didn’t answer, Cole knocked again. Guilt and worry played havoc in his mind as he envisioned Regan lying on the bathroom floor helpless, maybe in pain. “Princess, can you hear me?” he asked, growing more anxious by the second. “Unlock the door. Let me in so I can help you.”

When she still failed to respond, the knot of fear in his stomach balled into a fist. Cole tried the doorknob again, gave it a menacing twist. Then he heard it—that terrible wretching sound of someone being sick. On the heels of that came a soft moan and then the sound of running water. He shoved at the door, contemplated kicking the thing in. “Are you all right?” he demanded, nerves making his voice sharp, his temper short. “Dammit, Regan, answer me.”

“I’m all right.”

But she didn’t sound all right. She sounded as weak as a newborn kitten. Sucking in a calming breath, Cole attempted to rein in the jumble of emotions racing through him. “Open the door, princess,” he coaxed, deliberately gentling his voice even though inside he felt raw, violent. “I know you’re sick. Please…open the door. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” she tossed back with more spirit than he’d expected. “I just want you to leave.”

Too bad, Cole thought, gritting his teeth. No way did he plan to leave—not until he was sure that she was okay. And the baby, he amended. After all, the baby was the reason he was here in the first place. Raking a hand through his hair, Cole sighed. According to Money magazine he was a smart man, a virtual business genius. So how the devil had he gotten himself into this mess? How the devil had he let himself get tangled up with Regan St. Claire again?

The answer was simple—Liz, his oldest and dearest friend, the woman who had taken a street-smart, angry punk under her wing and given him a chance to be something more. He owed her more than he could ever repay in one lifetime. But hell, this time Regan’s aunt Liz had gone too far.

And whose fault is that?

His, Cole admitted. Because he had only himself to blame for getting into this fix in the first place. After all, he knew how clever Liz was, and he also knew how much the woman loved her niece. Liz had known exactly which buttons to push to convince him to be Regan’s sperm donor. And idiot that he was, he’d fallen right into the trap….

“Forget it, Liz. If Regan needs a sperm donor, you’ll have to find someone else. Maybe one of those uptowners with the mile-long pedigrees.”

“Fine,” Liz agreed easily.

Too easily, he thought. The woman was as sharp as a tack and never gave up that easily. Narrowing his gaze, he looked at her, knowing instinctively she was up to something. “I mean it, Liz.”

“I said okay, didn’t I?”

“But?”

“But what?” she asked innocently.

Cole sighed. “Whatever it is you’ve got up your sleeve isn’t going to work.”

“You make me sound like a scheming manipulative woman.”

“That’s because sometimes you are, but I love you anyway.”

She sniffed, tipped up her nose.

“Why don’t you just spit out whatever it is you’re up to?”

“I’m disappointed in you, Cole Thornton. I never thought you’d let pigheaded pride stand in the way and stop you from having the one thing you’ve always wanted.”

Cole laughed. “If you think I’m still pining after Regan, you’ve been standing too close to the ether, doc. Getting tangled up with your niece once was enough for me. Believe me, I have no desire to repeat that mistake.” Certainly not when he still bore the scars from their short-lived union.