Lynne Graham- Contract Baby Read online

  Her intent gaze roamed over him, lingering helplessly on the glossy luxuriance of his black hair, the hard, clean line of his high cheekbones and the dark roughening of his jawline that suggested a need to shave twice a day. Reaching the wide, passionate curve of his mouth, she wondered as she had wondered so often before what he tasted like. Then, wildly flustered by that disturbing thought, her eyes lifted, full of confusion, and the dark golden lure of his gaze en­trapped and held her in thrall.

  ‘And incredibly tempting,’ Raul confided huskily as he brought his sensual mouth very slowly down on hers.

  She could have pulled back with ease; he gave her every opportunity. But at the first touch of his lips on hers she dissolved into a hot, melting pool of acquiescence. With a muffled groan, he closed his hand into the tumbling fall of her hair to steady himself and let his tongue stab deep into the tender interior of her mouth. And the whole tenor of the kiss changed.

  Excitement so intense it burned flamed instantly through her, bringing her alive with a sudden shocking vitality that made her screamingly aware of every inch of her own hum­ming body. And as soon as it began she ached for more, lacing desperate fingers into the silky thickness of his hair, palms sliding down then to curve over to his cheekbones. Only at some dim, distant, uncaring level was she conscious of the buzzing, irritating sound somewhere close by.

  Raul released her with a stifled expletive in Spanish and sprang off the bed. With dazed eyes, Polly watched him pull out a mobile phone. And in the deep silence she heard the high-pitched vibration of a woman’s voice before he put the phone to his ear.

  ‘Dios…I’ll be down in a moment,’ Raul murmured curtly, and, switching the phone off, he dug it back into his pocket.

  ‘I’m sorry but I have to go. I have someone waiting in the car.’ He raked restive fingers through his now thor­oughly tousled black hair, glittering golden eyes screened from her searching scrutiny, mouth compressed into a fe­rocious line. ‘I’ll see you soon. Buenos noches.’

  The instant he left the room, Polly thrust back the bed­ding and scrambled awkwardly out of bed. She flew over to the window which overlooked the front entrance and pulled back the curtain. She saw the limo…and she saw the beautiful blonde in her sleek, short crimson dress pacing beside it Then she watched the blonde arrange herself in a studied pose against the side of the luxury car so that she looked like a glamorous model at an automobile show.

  Polly rushed back across the room to douse the lamp and men returned to the window. Raul emerged from the clinic. The blonde threw herself exuberantly into his arms. Polly’s nerveless fingers dropped from the curtain. She reeled back against the cold wall and closed her arms round her trem­bling body, feeling sick and dizzy and utterly disgusted with herself.

  Oh, dear heaven, why hadn’t she slapped his face for him? Why, oh, why had she allowed him to kiss her? Feeling horribly humiliated and raw, she got back into bed with none of the adrenalin-charged speed with which she had vacated it Tonight Raul had been out with his latest blonde. Now they were either moving on to some nightclub or heading for a far more intimate setting. She could barely credit that Raul had called in to see her in the middle of a date with another woman, as relaxed and unhurried as if he’d had all the time in the world to spend with her.

  Polly felt murderous. She could still see the ice cream tub glimmering in the darkness. Gosh, weren’t you a push­over? a sarcastic little inner voice gibed. Easily impressed, pitifully vulnerable. Her defences hadn’t stood a chance with Raul in a more approachable mood And he hadn’t even kissed her because he was attracted to her—oh, no. Nothing so simple and nothing less flattering than the true explanation she suspected.

  He had felt the baby move. That had been a disturbingly intimate and emotional experience for them both. For the first time they had crossed the barriers of that contract and actually shared something that related to the baby. And Raul was a very physical male who had, in the heat of the moment, reacted in an inappropriately physical way. The constraint of his abrupt departure had revealed his unease with that development. She was convinced he wouldn’t ever let anything like that happen between them again.

  Yet for so long Polly had ached for Raul to kiss her, and that passionate kiss had outmatched her every naive expec­tation. Without ever touching her, Raul had taught her to crave him like a dangerous drug. Now she despised herself and felt all the shame of her own wantonly eager response. She did hate him now, she told herself vehemently. Technically she might still be a virgin, but she wasn’t such an idiot that she didn’t know that sexual feelings could both tempt and confuse. Her response had had nothing to do with love or intelligence.

  She had stopped loving Raul the same day that she’d discovered how he had been deceiving her in Vermont. But the complexity of their current relationship was plunging her into increasing turmoil. For what relationship did they have? She wasn’t his lover but she was expecting his baby, and she couldn’t even claim that they were friends, could she…?

  A magnificent floral arrangement arrived from Raul the next day. Polly asked the maid to pass it on to one of the other patients. She didn’t want to be reminded of Raul every time she looked across the room.

  He phoned in the afternoon. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Turning somersaults,’ Polly said brittly. ‘Leafing through my frantically crammed social diary to see what I’ll be doing today. Do I really need to stay here much longer?’

  ‘Rod thinks so,’ Raul reminded her. ‘Look, I’ll be away on business for the next week. I wanted to leave a contact number with you so that you can get in touch if you need to.’

  ‘I can’t imagine there being any need when I’m sur­rounded by medical staff and being waited on hand and foot.’

  ‘OK. I’ll phone you—‘Polly breathed in deep. ‘Would you mind if I asked you not to?’

  ‘I don’t like having this type of conversation on the phone. It’s a very female method of warfare,’ Raul drawled grimly.

  ‘I was just asking for a little space,’ Polly countered tightly. ‘In the circumstances, I don’t think that’s unrea­sonable. You may be the father of my child, but we don’t have a personal relationship.’

  ‘I’ll see you when I get back from Paris, Polly.’

  The line went dead. But Polly continued to grip the re­ceiver frantically tight. She didn’t want to see him; she didn’t want to hear from him. Her eyes smarted. But the tears were nothing to do with him. Late on in pregnancy women were often more emotional and tearful, she re­minded herself staunchly.

  Mid-morning, late in the following week, Polly had just put on a loose red jersey dress with a V-neckline and short sleeves when Raul arrived to visit her. Hearing the knock on the door of her room, she emerged from the bathroom, still struggling to brush her long hair. She fell still in an awkward pose when she realised who it was.

  Her heart skipped a complete beat. Raul was wearing a navy pinstriped business suit so sharply tailored it fitted his magnificent physique like a glove. Worn with a dark blue shirt and red silk tie, it made him look sensationally attrac­tive and dynamic. Her throat closed over. It felt like a hun­dred years since she had last seen him. She wanted to move closer, had to forcefully still her feet where she stood.

  Raul strolled forward and casually reached up to pluck the brush from her loosened hold. Gently turning her round by her shoulders, he teased loose the tangle she had been fighting with before returning the brush to her hand. ‘I owe you an apology for my behaviour on my last visit,’ he mur­mured with conviction.

  Polly tensed. There was a mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She could see his reflection, the cool gravity of his expression, the dark brilliance of his assessing gaze.

  Colour stained Polly’s cheeks but she managed to laugh. ‘For goodness’ sake,’ she said with determined lightness, ‘there’s no need for an apology. It was just a kiss…no big deal!’

  Something bright flared in his dark eyes and then they were
veiled, his sensual mouth curling slightly. ‘Bueno. I wondered if you would like to have lunch out today?’

  In surprise, Polly swivelled round, all constraint put to flight by that unexpected but very welcome suggestion that she might return to the outside world for a few hours. ‘I’d love to!’

  In the foyer they ran into Janice Grey.

  ‘Oh, dear, were you coming to visit me?’ Polly muttered with a dismay made all the more pungent by a guilty sense of relief. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m afraid we’re going out for lunch.’

  ‘That does surprise me.’ Janice raised an enquiring brow. ‘I understood you were here to rest’

  ‘I’m under the strictest instructions to see that she doesn’t overtire herself, Mrs Grey,’ Raul interposed with a coolly pleasant smile. ‘I’m also grateful to have the oppor­tunity to thank you for all the support you have given Polly in recent weeks.’

  The middle-aged blonde gave him a thin smile and turned to Polly. ‘Henry said that you weren’t coming back to stay with us.’ She then shot Raul an arch look that didn’t conceal her hostility. ‘Do I hear wedding bells in the air?’

  Polly paled, and then hot, mortified colour flooded her cheeks. The silence simmered.

  Raul stepped calmly into the breach. ‘I’m sure Polly will keep you in touch with events, Mrs Grey.

  ‘A tough cookie,’ Raul remarked of the older woman as he settled Polly into the limousine a few minutes later. ‘I’m relieved that you didn’t choose to confide in her about ourlegal agreement. But why the hell did you look so uncom­fortable?’

  Polly thought of those crazy weeks in Vermont, when she had foolishly allowed herself to be wildly, recklessly in love with Raul. Her imagination had known no limits when every moment she could she’d tried to forget the fact that she was pregnant. Those stupid girlish daydreams about marrying Raul were now a severe embarrassment to recall. She had to think fast to come up with another ex­planation for her discomfiture.

  ‘Janice was kind to me…but she’d never have offered me a room if she hadn’t known about my inheritance. She couldn’t understand why I wasn’t prepared to marry Henry for the sake of that money. She thought I was being very foolish and shortsighted.’

  ‘You don’t need to make a choice like that now. In any case, gatita…you’re far too young to be thinking about marriage.’

  An awkward little silence fell. Polly was very tense. She was already scolding herself for having reacted to Raul’s invitation as if his only aim was to give her a pleasant outing. Raul did nothing without good reason. Over lunch, Raul was undoubtedly planning to open a serious discus­sion about their baby’s future. The subject could not be avoided any longer, and this time she would try to be as calm and rational as possible.

  ‘Waiting to hear what you’re going to say makes me very nervous,’ she nonetheless heard herself confide abruptly. ‘I may be pregnant, but I’m not likely to pop off at the first piece of bad news. Do you think you could just tell me right now up front whether or not you’re planning to take me to court after the baby’s born?’

  Raul sent her a shimmering glance, his mouth curling. ‘Much good it would do me if I did have such plans. Although it seems very wrong to me, in this country I have no legal rights as the father of your child.’ ‘Honestly?’ Polly surveyed him through very wide and surprised blue eyes. ‘But what about the contract?’

  ‘Forget the contract. It might as well not exist now. Do you seriously think that I would even want to take such a personal and private matter into a courtroom?’

  ‘I never thought of that,’ Polly admitted, suddenly feel­ing quite weak with the strength of her relief. ‘I just had nightmares about being extradited to the USA.’

  An involuntary smile briefly curved Raul’s lips. ‘Force wouldn’t work in a situation like this.’

  Did he think that persuasion would? Polly worried about that idea. She knew that her own convictions ran so deep and strong he had no hope of changing her mind; she was determined to keep her baby. But she was burdened by the increasingly guilty awareness that that wasn’t very fair to Raul, and that some way, somehow, they had to find a compromise that would be bearable for them both.

  Yet where could they possibly find that compromise? Raul had chosen surrogacy because he wanted a child, but not a child he had to share in a conventional relationship. Raul had opted for a detached, businesslike arrangement without strings. But no matter what happened now he had no hope of acquiring sole custody of his own child. How could she not feel guilty about that?

  Raul took her back to a luxury apartment in Mayfair. Polly felt intimidated by the grandeur of her surroundings. A light and exquisitely cooked lunch was served by a quiet and unobtrusive manservant. Throughout the meal, Raul chatted about his business trip to Paris. He was very enter­taining, a sophisticated and amusing raconteur. But, while she laughed and smiled in response, all she could really think about was how easily he had fooled her with that charismatic polish in Vermont.

  It meant nothing. It just meant he had terrific social skills. She had learned to read Raul well enough to recognise that essential detachment just beneath the surface, not to men­tion his smooth ability to avoid giving personal information. All those visits in Vermont and what had she picked up about him? That he had no close family alive, that he was a businessman who travelled a lot, and that he had been born in Venezuela. Precious little.

  Raul ran hooded dark eyes over her abstracted face. ‘I feel like you’re not with me.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m tired,’ she said uncomfortably. Instantly Raul thrust back his chair and rose lithely up­right. ‘Then you should lie down in one of the guest rooms for a while.’

  ‘No…we need to talk,’ Polly acknowledged tautly. ‘I want to get that over with.’

  Leaving the table, she settled down into a comfortable armchair. The coffee was served. Raul paced restively over to the window and then gazed across the room at her. ‘Don’t look so anxious…it makes me feel like a bully,’ he admitted grimly.

  Polly clutched her cup. ‘You’re not that,’ she acknowl­edged fairly. ‘You’ve been very patient and more under­standing than I could ever have expected.’

  Raul spread lean brown hands with an eloquence that never failed to engage her attention. ‘I have a possible so­lution to this situation. Please hear me out,’ he urged. Tense as a bowstring, Polly sat very still. ‘The biggest difference between us is that I planned to be a parent from the very outset of our association,’ Raul delineated with measured clarity. ‘But you did not. When you became pregnant you did not expect to take on per­manent responsibility for that child.’ Polly nodded in wary, reluctant agreement. ‘I think you’re too young to handle becoming a single parent. I understand that you have become attached to the baby, and that you are naturally very concerned about its future well-being. But if you choose to keep the baby you will have to sacrifice the freedom that most young women of your age take for granted.’ Polly gave him a stubborn look. ‘I know that. I’m not stupid. And I’m hardly likely to miss what I’ve never had—’

  ‘But you could have that freedom now. You should be making plans to return to university to complete your de­gree,’ Raul told her steadily. ‘If you let me take my child back to Venezuela, I will allow you access visits, regular reports, photographs. I will agree to any reasonable request. My child will know you as his mother but you will not be the primary carer.’

  Raul had taken her very much by surprise. Polly hadn’t expected such a willingness to compromise from a male to whom she sensed ‘compromise’ was an unfamiliar word. On his terms, she guessed it was a very generous offer. He was offering to share their child to some extent, and that was a lot more than she had anticipated.

  ‘I believe every child deserves two parents,’ she re­sponded awkwardly. ‘Two parents on the spot.’

  ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘I was brought up by my father, and there wasn’t a day I didn’t long for my mother.’
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  ‘This child may be a boy.’

  ‘I don’t think that makes any difference. Because of my own experiences, I couldn’t face being parted from my child. Whatever it takes, I need to be there for my baby and do the very best I can to be a good mother.’ Polly was very tense as she struggled to verbalise her own deepest feelings. ‘And, yes, it is a very great pity that I didn’t work that out before I signed that contract…but my only excuse is that I honestly didn’t even begin to understand how I would feel once I was actually pregnant’

  “That’s in the past now. We need to concentrate on the present.’ With that rather deflating assurance, Raul flung back his darkly handsome head, his dark eyes formidable in their penetration. ‘If you really mean what you say when you protest that you intend to be the very best mother you can be…then you must move to Venezuela.’

  ‘Venezuela?’ Polly exclaimed, wildly disconcerted athaving that stunning suggestion flung at her in cool chal­lenge.

  i will set you up in a house there. You will have every comfort and convenience, and your child as well.’

  Polly blinked, still attempting to absorb a staggering proposition that entailed moving to the other side of the world. ‘I couldn’t—’

  ‘Por Dios… ask yourself if you are being fair. If the child needs his mother, then he also needs his father. And that child will inherit everything I possess.’ Raul spelt out that reminder with imperious pride and impatience.

  ‘Money isn’t everything, Raul—’

  ‘Don’t be facile. I’m talking about a way of life that you have not the slightest conception of,’ Raul returned very drily, watching her flush. ‘At least be practical, Polly. My child needs to know that Venezuelan heritage, the language, the people, the culture. If you won’t come to Venezuela, what am I to do? With the claims on my time, I can’t possibly visit the UK often enough to form a close rela­tionship with my child.’

  Polly tried to picture living in Venezuela, with Raul pick­ing up all her bills, walking in and out of her life with one blonde babe girlfriend after another and eventually taking a wife. No matter how he might feel now, she was con­vinced that he would succumb to matrimony sooner or later. In such a situation she would always be an outsider, an interloper, neither family nor friend, and a lot of people would simply assume that she was his discarded mistress. She knew she would never be able to cope with such a dependent, humiliating existence on the fringe of Raul’s world. She needed to get on with her own life. It was time to be honest about that reality.