Wishing and Hoping

Well, she’d already faced two awkward conversations this evening. Time for number three.

Straightening her shoulders, she headed for his living room.

Seated on a white brocade sofa, with his arms stretched across its back and his boots on the coffee table, Drew looked disreputable and self-assured and so handsome that Tia had a sudden case of second thoughts. They might not be right for each other as a real husband and wife, but would sleeping together for the next eight months really be that bad?

“Your mother is suspicious,” Drew said, “because our story is weak. Not only do we have to come up with a more detailed story than what we told your parents, but we should also have a prenup.”

Tia’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. “You don’t have to protect your money from me!”

“How do you know I wasn’t trying to protect your money from me?”

Taken aback by that possibility, she thought about it, then remembered she didn’t have any money to protect. She’d only been working two years. Not enough time to accumulate a nest egg. Any money she had saved had gone into the down payment for her house.

“I don’t have any money.”

“Okay, then we’re back to protecting mine. But for a few seconds there, when you thought you might have money, you have to admit you wanted a prenup, too.”

This was why she wouldn’t sleep with him. He was nothing like the guy of her childhood fantasies. He wasn’t a sweet, considerate, smitten Prince Charming. He was a grouch who perpetually watched out for himself. “You’re insane.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t care what you think of me.” He pushed himself off the sofa and poured two fingers of Scotch. “Can I get you something? Soda? Iced tea? Glass of milk?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but she wasn’t. This morning she had been a happy-go-lucky employee at an advertising firm. She had a job secure enough that she was ready, even happy, to become a mom. In her generosity of spirit and fairness of heart, she’d decided to tell her baby’s father he was about to be a dad. She’d agreed to marry him to protect her father from the potential stress that telling the real story might generate. Now, her father was okay, but she was stuck spending too much time with a man who always looked on the dark side of things. She wished she had realized Drew wasn’t the nice guy she had created in her fantasies before she’d made love with him, but she’d been so caught up in her childhood crush that she’d let herself believe he was the man in her dreams.

He wasn’t. She didn’t know exactly who he was, but he most certainly wasn’t Prince Charming.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

He peered at her over his Scotch glass. His gaze went from her short cap of dark hair, along her face, down her shoulders, pausing at her breasts, and then tumbled to her toes. For a few seconds he appeared to be considering his answer. Finally, he smiled and said, “I don’t remember asking.”

Embarrassment shot through her, but she ignored it. She didn’t believe for one second that he didn’t want to sleep with her. Still, she wasn’t arguing with good fortune.

“Let’s just say that was another one of those things we had to get out of the way.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

He strolled back to the white sofa and settled again on the plump cushion. “Let’s get back to the prenup.”

“I don’t have any money. I don’t want yours. I think your lawyer should be able to handle that.”

“You don’t want your lawyer to draw it up?”

“I don’t have a lawyer.”

“Then we’ll use mine. But you should get one to look it over before you sign it.”

“Why? Planning to cheat me?”

“No, just teaching you to watch your back. Marriage is as much a business proposition as anything else. It pays not to forget that.”

She would have had a snappy comeback, but as he spoke the room began to spin. She swayed slightly and groped for the back of a nearby club chair with cognac-colored pillows that matched the silk printed drapes.

Before she had a solid hold, Drew was at her side. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But it’s been a long day.” Really long. All she had wanted was to do the right thing. For her trouble, she was stuck with a lunatic arguing about prenups. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then we’ll talk in the morning. We have the whole house to ourselves for at least two weeks because my housekeeper is taking care of her sister in Minneapolis after surgery. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

Tia shifted out from under his hold. “Great. I’ll get my overnight bag from my car, then you can show me where to sleep.”

“I’ll get your overnight bag,” Drew said as he caught her by the shoulders, turned her around and led her into the foyer. He pointed up the steps. “Pick any room you want. Just don’t take the room at the end of the hall. That’s mine. I’d give it to you if you insist, but since Mrs. Hernandez has been gone, it’s a mess. The others are all clean. Take one of them.” With that, he turned and walked out the front door.

Tia climbed the steps. At the top she gazed down the long, quiet corridor of the second floor of his brand-new house and counted six bedroom doors. She would have taken the first, but curiosity got the better of her and she sneaked down the hall, peeking into each room, gasping every time she opened a door because all six were beautifully appointed. Probably professionally decorated.

And she suddenly realized why Drew wanted a prenup. In the same way that she’d grown up in the past six years, he’d become wealthy. Maybe even the object of women pursuing him for his money. And she’d shown up on his doorstep waving the oldest trick in the book. A pregnancy. After a case of mistaken identity.

Wow. No wonder Drew wanted a prenup. For all practical intents and purposes, it looked as if she’d tricked him.

“Do you have any rope?”

Drew glanced up from reading the morning paper. When he saw Tia standing in his kitchen doorway, he steeled himself against the slam of desire that hit him like a tsunami. He didn’t mind that she had the waistband of her too-big sweatpants bunched in her fist. What got to him was the enticing strip of belly flesh exposed because she had her white T-shirt tied at her midriff. It reminded him that he knew how soft she was. He knew how sweet she smelled. He knew just how good they had been together before he’d figured out she was Ben’s daughter.

Which was exactly why she was totally off-limits. She was Ben’s daughter. Not somebody he’d normally seduce. Not somebody he would sleep with again. Not only that, but their situation hadn’t really been settled. If she wouldn’t sign a prenup, he couldn’t marry her.

When she’d conveniently become sick before they could finish their discussion about the prenup, it had finally sunk into Drew’s thick skull that it was pretty darned odd that Tia had had absolutely no hesitation about making love the day they’d met at the party in Pittsburgh. They didn’t really know each other as adults, so Drew knew there was no emotional bond between them. Which meant the most logical conclusion to be drawn for why she’d fall into the arms of a man she hardly knew was that she had wanted something.

He didn’t have a clue what it was, but he did know that though he was duty-bound to raise his child and protect Ben, there was no way in hell he was losing half this farm. If she thought she was going to hoodwink him out of money, she was sadly mistaken. In fact, he’d decided not to push the issue of the prenup until he had a better handle on what game she was playing.

Gripping her too-big bottoms, Tia ambled to the table. “The first two weeks I was pregnant, I threw up every day and I lost ten pounds. Now all of my baggy clothes are way too baggy.”

“There’s plenty of rope for those pants in the stable,” he said, and turned his attention back to his newspaper. “If we were staying for breakfast I’d get you a bale. Since we’re going out, you might as well shower and put on something that fits.”

“We’re going out?”

“We need to be seen in public before your mother calls the preacher to arrange the ceremony or the local caterer to order two roasters of chicken for a buffet supper, and word of our marriage gets out.”

“You’re right.”

“So go change and I’ll see you at the truck.”

Though Tia cringed at the mention of his truck, much to Drew’s relief, she didn’t argue. She left the kitchen and twenty minutes later, dressed in comfortable-looking capri pants and a crisp white blouse, she joined him by his black truck where he was talking over the day’s chores with two hands.

“Jim, Pete,” he said when Tia joined them. He slid his arm across her shoulders. “You remember Tia Capriotti, Ben’s daughter.”

Jim grinned. Pete took off his hat.

“Sure.”