Happy Holidays - The Pregnancy Negotiation Part 15

"Good."

"At least for a couple of days," she added. "Until I'm no longer ovulating."

"We'll see about that." Then he sprinted up the stairs, taking all of his c.o.c.ky a.s.surance with him.

Mallory recognized once more that knowledge was power, but sometimes it left a person totally powerless. She felt as if she were traveling a hundred miles an hour down the interstate, speeding toward falling in love with Whit Manning.

And she wasn't sure she could locate the brakes.

Nine.

"M rs. McMillan's here to see you."

Confused, Mallory glanced up to see Roz standing in her office door. "I thought she was still out of town." Roz closed the door behind her. "Seems she got word of her husband's intent to pursue custody, so she came back from her trip early."

What a wonderful way to start a Monday morning, but at least she'd had one wild, wonderful weekend. Mallory glanced at the clock suspended on the wall across the room. "Can you have her come back? I have to be in court for the Wilkinsons' divorce in thirty minutes."

"That's been postponed. I just got the call. According to his attorney, they're considering reconciling."

"Really? The last time they were in the same room together, I thought they might come to blows."

"My guess is that they went home and duked it out in bed."

Why was everyone so obsessed with s.e.x? Like Mallory had room to talk. For a good part of the night, she'd been obsessing about it. A good part of the morning, too. Needless to say, Whit had kept her thoughts and body churning. But she didn't have time to consider that now. Mallory might be determined to make a child, but Anna McMillan was trying to keep her child, a much more pressing issue at the moment. "Go ahead and send her in."

"Will do. She has the baby with her."

Mallory could understand why Anna McMillan wouldn't want to part with her child, even for a minute. Anna loved her little boy, and that was very apparent when she walked into the office, the sandy-haired toddler sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

Mallory gestured toward the sofa for her client to be seated. Once Anna had settled in, the baby's head resting in her lap, Mallory pulled up a chair and smiled. "He's a beautiful little boy."

Anna smoothed a trembling hand over the boy's head. "He's the most important thing in the world to me. That's why I'm here."

Mallory slid her reading gla.s.ses to the top of her head and folded her hands atop her desk. "Roz tells me you've learned about your husband's intentions."

"Yes. He called me and told me himself, and it's ridiculous. He hasn't bonded with Robbie at all. I don't think he's ever changed a diaper. I don't understand why he's doing this." She swiped a hand across her cheek, now dampened by tears. "I take that back, I do know why. He's making me pay for divorcing him."

"That very well could be the case," Mallory said. "The good news is, most judges still rule in favor of the mother, unless there is some cause to believe that a mother is unfit."

"Richard will say I am. He'll use the circ.u.mstances behind our initial meeting to try and prove that."

Mallory's concerns increased. "What do you mean?"

She s.h.i.+fted slightly. "I was working in a cabaret club, waiting tables while I was in college. I didn't take off my clothes or anything like that, just served drinks to the patrons. Richard was a regular there and one night he struck up a conversation. We started dating after that and I quit about three weeks later, at his request. By that time, we were already talking about getting married."

Under normal circ.u.mstances, Mallory wouldn't be too concerned about this aspect of a client's past. But Richard McMillan had money and a vendetta. "Is there anything else you can think of that he might try to use against you?"

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised if he fabricated something."

Neither would Mallory. "Is there anything we can use against him? Maybe another woman?"

"At first I didn't think so. He used to come home early in the evening and he called me every day from work, sometimes four or five times a day. I had to let him know where I was at all times. But then I sometimes wondered if maybe he wanted to keep track of my whereabouts so I didn't catch him with someone else. After I became pregnant with Robbie, he never touched me. If he was having s.e.x, it wasn' t with me."

Mallory suspected Anna's conjecture could be correct. "And he didn't want you to get pregnant, correct?"

The little boy stirred and Anna patted his back. "At first, he told me it was okay even though he wasn't all that enthusiastic. After I found out I was pregnant, he said he never wanted a baby in the first place."

Mallory was suddenly reminded of Whit's mother. "I'm going to fight this, Anna. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you have custody of Robbie. In fact, I would like to hire a private investigator."

"If you think that's going to help." Anna stared off into s.p.a.ce for a moment before she spoke again. "You know, Richard wasn't always like this. When we met, he was charming and funny and s.e.xy. I knew he was a little controlling, but I had no idea how bad it would be. I guess sometimes you don't know someone as well as you think you do. And if I'd known how he would react to the baby, then I would never have..." Her words trailed off as she again looked lovingly upon her child. "I take that back. I don' t regret having Robbie. He's all I have now. That's why I can't lose him."

Mallory's heart went out to the young mother as she felt her pain as acutely as if it were her own. Despite her own failed marriage to Jerry, if she hadn't lost the baby she would still have welcomed it in her life. "I 'm going to work hard to make sure that doesn't happen. In the meantime, call me if you think of anything else we might be able to use against him. I'd like to have some extra insurance when dealing with a man like your husband."

"A wealthy man," Anna said. "Richard is all about money. If I thought that by agreeing to let him have his money he'd back off, then I'd do it."

"You shouldn't have to do that. You've lived with him for ten years and you deserve what's coming to you in accordance with the prenuptial agreement. Have you found a job yet?"

She shrugged. "The job market is terrible and I don't have any real skills or a degree since I quit college. But I'll wait tables again if have to."

"Hopefully something will turn up soon." Before the trial, Mallory wanted to say, yet decided that was best left unsaid at the moment. "We'll also ask for child support as well as payment of your legal fees."

Anna came to her feet and again s.h.i.+fted the baby to her shoulder. "I just want my child, Ms. O'Brien. That's all I want."

Mallory walked Anna to the front door, gave her more a.s.surances and then returned to her office with a heavy heart. She had a bad feeling about this case even though under normal circ.u.mstances Anna would stand an excellent chance of keeping her son. Yet so much depended on several factors, particularly the judge charged with deciding Robbie's fate. Several were conservative and still believed a mother belonged with a child. But a few believed strongly in a father's rights, too. And Anna's unemployment as well as her past could come into play. Mallory would definitely need to be prepared for all instances.

Aside from the divorce itself, several things Anna had said played out in Mallory's mind, creating concerns on a very personal level.

When we met, he was charming and funny and s.e.xy.... He told me it was okay even though he wasn't all that enthusiastic. After I found out I was pregnant, he said he never wanted a baby in the first place.

Ridiculous that she would compare Richard McMillan to Whit. Besides, she wasn't married to Whit so divorce wasn't an issue. And as far as custody went, deep down she knew Whit would never try to take their baby away. They would remain friends to the end. That much she knew. Or at least she hoped she knew.

I guess sometimes you don't know someone as well as you think you do....

That had been all too true with Jerry, and she couldn't make the same mistake again with Whit. Time to reconsider, before she ended up neck-deep in emotional quicksand.

After tossing his keys onto the dash of the truck, Whit grabbed his to-go cup of coffee, left the truck and strode up the walk to his pet project. The roof, windows and brick had been added, the insulation and drywall completed, plumbing and electricity roughed out. Painting was in process, inside and out, and it was only a matter of time before the finis.h.i.+ng touches would begin.

Yeah, it was definitely a house now, he thought as he stepped inside the towering foyer. And today it provided the perfect place to escape.

Taking a seat on the raised rock hearth in the den, Whit sipped at his coffee and recalled the past few days. The whole conception plan had unleashed something wild between him and Mallory. They couldn't seem to get enough of each other. On Friday evening, Mallory had met him at the door as soon as he'd arrived home from work. They'd never made it past the foyer before they were undressing each other, culminating in mind-blowing lovemaking on the sofa with some of their clothes still intact.

On Sat.u.r.day night, they'd taken a 2:00 a.m. swim in the deserted rooftop pool, but water play had turned into foreplay and he'd discovered that Mallory had an incredible mouth, and she knew how to use it. That had turned into discarded swimsuits and utilizing the towel-covered pool deck for another hot session.

And on Sunday, Whit had looked up from the paper to see Mallory coming down the stairs wearing only a s.h.i.+rt-his s.h.i.+rt-and he'd decided then and there he would carry her to bed and make love to her, a place they had yet to explore. But they'd ended up tangled together on the first landing. He still sported a few bruises on his back and even a few scratches from Mallory's nails, but every wound had been well worth it. So had the moments following their lovemaking when they'd held each other, talking about their upcoming week, debating Bruno vs. Betsy or not talking at all.

Then, on Monday, the lovemaking between them had stopped completely. Granted, they'd both been busy with work, but he couldn't deny he still wanted her with every breath he drew. Yet he hadn't pressed the issue even though for the past few nights, he'd considered crawling into her bed and making love to her all night. But not only had she claimed she was no longer ovulating, therefore lovemaking was no longer necessary, she'd begun to keep him at a distance, erecting an emotional wall as solid as the one Whit had designed for the house. As solid as the one he'd built around his own emotions. And he didn't know what to do about it at all. As much as he hated not touching her, he hated their sudden lack of communication even more.

But instead of dealing with it, he'd spent the past few days at the house, pouring his frustration into hammering nails into the outdoor deck, and nights at the office in preparation for a trip to Boston tomorrow. Five days of schmoozing in order to firm up a deal for a multi-million-dollar project, and that meant more time away from Mallory, something he hated more than business politics. But at least he would have time to decide how he was going to handle the situation at home.

He had a lot to do and limited time to do it. As soon as he returned from his trip, he planned to bring Mallory here and unveil the surprise. He also planned to tell his dad about his strategy for the future, even if his future with Mallory still seemed up in the air.

One thing did he did know, he valued her friends.h.i.+p, but he didn't think he could be only her friend. And even though that terrified the h.e.l.l out of him, it was high time to face it. And he would, beginning tonight.

"Where have you been for the past few nights?"

Whit tossed his keys on the coffee table, dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed onto the sofa across from the chair where Mallory was seated. "I told you. Preparing for the big project in Boston."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You're not wearing your normal work clothes."

"I changed after normal business hours so I'd be more comfortable."

"I see."

From her tone, Whit wasn't sure she did see. "What's going on, O'Brien?"

She turned her attention back to some kind of brief she was reading. "Nothing. Sorry I asked. What you do at night is none of my business."

Up came the wall again. Whit was determined to break it down. "I've been at work, Mallory. Trying to earn a living. If you think I've been anywhere else, you're dead wrong. You know me better than that."

"Do I?" She pulled off her gla.s.ses and gripped them in her hand. "Look, Whit, I still realize we both agreed that we're only trying to have a baby. If you want to date other women, that's okay. I understand. I don't want you to change your routine for me. I just wish you'd be honest about it, though."

Whit bolted out of the chair from the force of his anger. "My routine? Have you seen me going out since we started this? Or going out since you've been living here, for that matter?"

"No, but I don't want you to feel you have to stop your life because of me." She put her gla.s.ses back into place and thumbed through the doc.u.ments. "I did some laundry. The basket's on the bed. You probably need to start packing since you have an early flight."

Whit didn't care about the d.a.m.n flight. He didn't care for her att.i.tude either. He rose and strode to the sofa to stand before her. He wanted to convince her that he didn't want anyone else. He wanted her undivided attention. He wanted her. G.o.d, did he want her. "I can pack later. Right now I can think of something else I'd rather be doing with you. I want to make love to you, this time in a bed."

She didn't bother to look at him. "I'd rather finish my work so I don't fall asleep tomorrow morning during my deposition. Besides, that won't be necessary until next month, provided I'm not pregnant."

"Necessary?" She sounded like she was addressing a client, not a lover. "You're lying, O'Brien. To me and to yourself."

That got her attention. "Lying about what?"

Whit braced his palms on the arms of the chair and leaned toward her. "You want me as much as I want you. You want it so bad you can taste it. It doesn't have anything to do with making a baby. What's going on between us has gone beyond that. You know it when I'm holding you, and when I'm inside of you. And it's scaring the h.e.l.l out of you, isn't it?"

"I'm not scared of you, Whit, and I'm not one of your goodtime girls. I'm not going to just stop what I'm doing to have s.e.x with you just because you know how to say and do all the right things. s.e.x isn't everything."

He couldn't get a handle on her mood, but he knew when to play his hand and when to fold. Time to fold and to get away.

Pus.h.i.+ng back from the chair, he said, "You're right. s.e.x isn't everything. I learned that a long time ago."

s.n.a.t.c.hing his keys from the table, he strode to the door, propelled by an old habit of his that wasn't ready to die.

"Where are you going?" Mallory called.

Without turning around, he said, "Out," then slammed the door behind him. He took the stairs two at a time and shoved out of the exit onto the deserted street. He walked the block at a fast pace, his mind whirling with concerns and a few regrets. He shouldn't have walked out on her like that, but he was plagued by exhaustion and some fairly serious emotional overload. He needed some time to think, not only tonight, but while he was away for the next few days.

When he reached the corner of the block, Whit pushed through the doors at the late-night bar, one of his favorite watering holes and a good place to regroup. The crowd was minimal for a Friday night in Houston, mostly couples filling the round, wooden tables. Beyond that, Whit didn't pay much mind to the patrons. Right now he just wanted to be left alone to have a beer.

Taking a seat on a stool, he slapped his palm on the bar and said, "Give me my usual, Cal."

The bartender and owner of the establishment turned from the TV and smiled. "Where've you been lately, Whit? I thought maybe you'd moved out of the neighborhood."

"Nope. I've been busy." Busy making love with his roommate in order to make a baby. Busy falling for his roommate in the process.

Cal grabbed a mug and filled it full of Whit's favorite brew and then slid it in front of him. "First one's on the house."

"Thanks." Whit took a long draw then tried to focus on the news, but he couldn't begin to concentrate. After a few minutes had pa.s.sed, Cal set another beer in front of Whit. "I'm not even halfway through with this one," he told the bartender.

Cal grinned. "Compliments of the ladies in the corner."

Whit glanced behind him to see two women seated near the window, one knockout blonde, one voluptuous brunette. They rolled their fingers into a wave and laughed. Whit nodded his thanks then went back to staring at the TV.

"You're not going to join them?" Cal asked, his tone full of surprise.

At another time, in another place in his life, Whit probably would consider it. But not now. Not tonight. Mallory was right, s.e.x wasn't everything, especially if you weren't making love with someone you truly cared about. "Nope. I'm gonna sit here and drink my beer."

Cal leaned his elbows on the bar and studied Whit. "Are you sick?"

In a way he was. Lovesick, an illness he'd successfully avoided until now. "Just not in the mood."

"Then you must have come down with some kind of disease." Cal inclined his head and narrowed his eyes. "You know, you look like you've lost your best girl."

And that was Whit's problem in a nutsh.e.l.l. He feared that if something didn't give, he just might lose Mallory.

Alone in her bed, Mallory tried desperately to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come as she continued to admonish herself for being such a jerk to Whit. Even now, she had no idea what had gotten into her. Why she had sounded so possessive and insecure the minute he'd hit the door.

Because she had been jealous. Jealous to think that maybe he'd grown tired of her and found someone else. Why wouldn't he? She'd basically cut off all intimacy a few days before and not because she'd really wanted to. She'd done it for emotional protection. Past experience seemed bent on revisiting her when it came to Whit and other women. Past experience was no excuse for her behavior. She'd totally overreacted, and that wasn't like her at all. Of course, nothing involving Whit had been within her realm of normality. And, in reality, she had no real claim on him at all. No reason to believe that more existed between them than their attempts at making a baby. But Mallory acknowledged she wanted more. Much more, and that caused her to cry because she didn't think she could have it. Hormones, she'd decided. Crazy, out-of-control hormones. Which meant one of two things. She was either nearing her period or pregnant. And unless she got her head on straight, she could be facing both prospects alone.

She punched her pillow and turned toward the wall, trying to clear her mind. Then she heard the bedroom door creak open and every muscle in her body tensed. Knowing Whit was standing there, she pretended to sleep. If she acknowledged his presence, then she was in danger of walking right back into his arms or finally inviting him into her bed. She couldn't afford that now. Not while she was feeling so susceptible and confused.

The mattress bent behind her and she realized he wasn't going to go away. He confirmed that when he said, "Mallory, we have to talk."

She didn't dare turn over, otherwise all her remaining strength would vanish. "I'm tired, Whit."

"And I'm not your idiot ex-husband."

"I know that."

"I'm committed to having this baby with you."

But that could be as far as his commitment went, and that was a problem, even though Mallory had known that was a possibility from the moment she'd asked him to father her child. "Maybe this was all a mistake."