Teddy Bear Heir (4 page)

The articles online had brought every wacko out of the woodwork and they'd all descended on corporate headquarters today.

Or it seemed that way.

"Send in the next one," he called out the door. Mrs. Monahan was running the interview sessions like a drill sergeant. Five minutes per person, no exceptions.

Cameron was grateful. In most cases he didn't need more than five seconds.

He dreaded to see who was going to come through his office door next. And, he reminded himself, these were the best of the applicants, the ones Mrs. Monahan had screened and spent days to find.

Some of them looked nothing like their pictures.

"No, wait! Miss, you're not next in line—"

He could hear Mrs. Monahan's exasperated voice just outside the door, then it flew open and a woman rushed in. She was easily two hundred and fifty pounds, dressed in a brilliantly colored, tropical print muumuu, and had skin the color of deep, rich, bittersweet chocolate.

"You’re Cam the Man?"

"I am."

"I'm Sapphire," she said, sitting down on the couch that graced one wall of the office. "And I'm here to tell you that I
like
your style."

* * *

It was one of the longest days of his life.

He almost gave up. But he wouldn't give Jules the satisfaction.

Then she walked through the door.

Nancy Kilpatrick wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind but she was young, healthy, and cute in her own way.

The perfect brood mare.

What she lacked in the intellectual department she more than made up for in charm.

"I think I'm late," she muttered as she backed into the office. She was juggling a bag of groceries and a coffee in one hand, a pile of textbooks in the other.

"Who are you?" he asked from his horizontal position on the couch. His eyes were closed and he had the beginnings of a migraine.

"Nancy. I had an appointment at six."

"It's seven-thirty."

"I know. I mean, I got on the BART, and I think I must have taken the wrong exit. My sense of direction's lousy but I just moved to the city and I—"

He sat up and narrowed his eyes. She'd set her groceries and textbooks down on his desk, had taken the lid off her coffee cup and was attempting to take tiny sips of the hot liquid.

She was of average height, busty and blond. Her eyes were blue and she had freckles across her pert little nose. She looked like one of the milkmaids in a National Dairy Council Ad.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Healthy?"

"As a horse."

"Your mother have trouble giving birth?"

"I'm one of twelve."

"You like babies?"

"I
adore
  them."

"You're hired." He lay back down on the couch, then muttered, "Get Mrs. Monahan in here with the contract and tell me if there's anything about the agreement that bothers you."

"What?"

He opened one eye and looked at her, exhaustion etched in every line of his elegant face.

"Do you want the job or not?"

Her pretty face lit up with excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Perfectly."

"I can't believe it!"

"Do you mind taking a medical exam?"

"Wow, just like Princess Diana!"

There would certainly be no shortage of stimulation at the dinner table. Though Cameron sensed Nancy wasn't exactly an intellectual giant, she had a vibrancy and an open, sunny disposition that forced him to smile.

"I trust I'll be a little less insensitive than Prince Charles."

"Oh, no, I mean—" A brilliant blush ran up her neck and washed her translucent skin with bright color. "When I saw your picture in the paper, I thought... I mean... you're a pretty sexy guy."

He was sitting up now, watching her.

"So I've been told."

"Chief?" Mrs. Monahan raced into the office. "Did you call me?"

"Yes. I'd like a copy of the contract."

"Oh, that reminds me. Miss Larkin was here and she delivered an addendum—"

"Let me see it."

Nancy was watching their interplay, blowing on her coffee all the while, trying to cool it.

He glanced at her books as Mrs. Monahan rushed out of the room.

"What are you studying?"

"Psychology and human sexuality."

He smiled and resisted the obvious retort.

"There's something I was kind of wondering about," she said hesitantly.

"Tell me."

"Remember how you said whoever did this would get free rein with your charge cards?"

His smile faltered.

"Yes?"

"Could I..." She took a deep breath then let the words out in a rush. "Could I simply have some money to pay my tuition until the end of the semester? Instead of clothes, I mean?"

The smile returned to his face.

"If you give me a child, I'll pay for your entire undergraduate degree and your master's, as well."

She let out the breath she was holding as Mrs. Monahan came back into the room, contract in hand. Cameron smiled down at Nancy, relieved.

He'd found the mother of his child.

* * *

Michaela was out in the garden when she heard her cell phone rang.

Gomez and Morticia were with her, playing with the leaves on the fledgling tomato plants. There was a corner of the backyard that got quite a bit of sunlight and Michael Larkin had planted a garden there every year. Now that it was spring, Michaela continued the tradition.

She wiped her dirty hands on the seat of her old pants then raced for the back stairs and the kitchen. She'd come home a little early this evening, needing the time digging in the dirt to come to grips with her feelings. Cameron might marry another woman but it would eventually make him happy. As happy as he could be.

She'd needed to come home and garden and feel close to her father. She'd needed to regain her strength.

She picked up her phone and was totally unprepared for the voice on the other end. Or what it told her.

"I've found her."

She closed her eyes, feeling her heart pick up speed. It started to pound, sickeningly fast, as feminine envy shook her to the tips of her toes.

"I'm happy for you, Cameron."

They were some of the hardest words she'd ever had to say.

"About this addendum—"

Quickly she sought refuge in her cool, unemotional, professional demeanor.

"What do you think?"

"It's an excellent suggestion. Could you incorporate it into the contract immediately? Nancy and I can be by your office tomorrow, late afternoon, so the papers can be signed."

Nancy.
  Somehow the fact that she had a name made things even worse.

"If it would be more convenient for the two of you, I can meet you at your home. It might be...more private that way." She'd been aware of the media circus from the start and also knew Cameron was an intensely private man.

But she also had an ulterior motive. If she didn't have them come to the office to sign the contract, her colleagues wouldn't have a chance to suspect how this was affecting her.

Coleman, Watts and Burrell was a highly competitive law firm and extremely old-fashioned. The competition between the various legal departments was cutthroat and she didn't want anyone there to know more about her private feelings than was absolutely necessary.

"That’s quite thoughtful of you. We'll be staying at the Four Seasons Clift—"

"I know where it is. What time would you like me to be there?"

"Around ten. Is that too late? It's actually more convenient for Nancy this way. She can come to the hotel later because of school and a medical exam, and several other things she has to take care of."

School.
She must be young.

"That would be fine," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

She hung up the phone and stared at her dirty hands. Then, not caring about the grime, she put her face in her hands and slowly slid down the kitchen wall.

* * *

The Four Seasons Clift was one of the city's landmark hotels with a reputation for incredible personal service. Michaela arrived at around nine-thirty, absolutely exhausted. She hadn't slept at all the night before, tossing and turning and wondering if she should've gone ahead and said yes to Cameron's sexual offer.

She'd barely been able to keep her mind on her work. Visions of Nancy had danced through her head, each more exquisite than the last. She had to be stunning to have caught Cameron's eye. And brilliant. Young.

No cellulite on those thighs.

And a feminine body that functioned with exquisite precision, capable of giving Cameron the child he needed.

Nancy was everything she was not and it hurt on such a primal, deeply emotional level that Michaela had blocked a good deal of the pain out of her mind.

He'd registered under an assumed name to avoid the press but had given it to her over the phone late that afternoon. Once it had been confirmed that she was an expected guest, Michaela was shown to a bank of elevators that would take her to Cameron's suite.

He welcomed her inside, drink in hand. It surprised her that he was slightly nervous. She would've thought, with his sophisticated and sensually adventurous lifestyle, he wouldn't have a worry in the world.

It touched her, seeing him this way. And she didn't want to be touched.

"You've brought the documents?"

She patted her briefcase.

"I cannot thank you enough for being so discreet."

She took the two contract out of her briefcase and put them on the desk in the main room, arranging them neatly – anything not to have to look at his face.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She didn't drink, usually. Now, looking around the elegantly decorated black-and-white suite, she knew she'd have to have something to get through this nightmarish night.

It wasn't every day you got to see your dreams die right before your eyes.

"What are you having?" she asked quietly.

"Scotch."

"I'll have the same."

He seemed surprised and she wanted to say to him,
Don't be.
One thing Mike Larkin had taught his daughter was how to hold her liquor. She was Irish through and through and enjoyed a drink now and then.

This one she needed, to make the evening bearable.

They sat side by side on the couch after he handed her the Scotch. She took a small sip, welcoming the fiery warmth that spread down her tight throat and into her belly.

She wanted to feel something. Anything. And she began watching the clock, hoping Nancy would arrive soon and she'd be able to leave.

She wasn't looking forward to meeting her. Michaela was ashamed of the envy that still filled her. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit she desired Cameron as she had no other man. It was emotionally devastating to think of him making love to another woman.

She took another sip, wondering if she would ever see Cameron again after tonight. It would be different with his being a married man. A father. Cameron Black might have led a wild life but she knew the contract. Once he married he'd promised, as one of the conditions, to remain faithful.

It was a ruthless document. The woman involved had to agree to a medical examination to make sure all her feminine reproductive parts were in excellent working order. Then she had to agree to wait for an actual, confirmed pregnancy before the marriage would take place.

In exchange, she would be wealthy beyond her wildest dreams.

In exchange, she had to agree to stay home and take care of the child that would be created from this union. The baby.

Cameron's baby.

She set the glass down on the table in front of the couch and pinched the bridge of her nose gently with her fingers. Her breath stung and for one horrified moment she thought she might cry.

What would he say to her if she turned to him and agreed to spend a night in his bed? After all, he wasn't married yet

She rejected the idea as soon as she thought of it. That had been the whole point of her not getting involved with Cameron Black. For in giving that part of herself to him, another part of her soul would die when he left her and moved on to another conquest.

She'd had enough of having her soul ripped apart, thank you very much.

"She's late," Cameron said quietly as he refilled her glass.

"I can leave the contracts here," she offered, amazed at how steady her voice sounded. "You could call the concierge up to witness her signature."

"Stay for a minute."

His voice was so sensual, so dark and smooth. She wondered what it would sound like in the dark, urging a woman on, whispering erotic words, touching her naked skin with pure, sensual sound...

"The doctor called me this afternoon," Cameron said quietly. "Nancy passed the exam."

She closed her eyes, unable to hide her pain, and heard his soft curse.

"God, I'm sorry, Mike. I'm just a stupid, bloody, insensitive bastard. I don't know what made me say that."

She forced a smile. "No, it’s all right. I've put that all...behind me now." She reached for her glass and took another sip, bigger this time.

She'd go home, call in sick tomorrow morning, and languish in a bubble bath, maybe work in the garden.

Later she might curl up on the sofa and listen to music. And wonder what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

"Would you mind if I went down to the bar?" Cameron asked her suddenly.

She glanced over at the bottle of Scotch. It was almost empty.

He
was
  nervous.

She envied Nancy, having this sort of effect on Cameron. And she remembered the day she'd found out she'd never have a child of her own. She'd doubted, at that moment, that any man would want her. As a wife, lover, longtime companion. Culture could play all sorts of games with male and female roles, but some instincts were too deeply embedded.

She was flawed and men could smell it with the keen instincts of an animal.

"Not at all."

This was it. Time to say goodbye. She might see him once in a while when she did legal work for his company. But it wouldn't be the same. Marriage changed everything and she had no doubt this Nancy was probably fertile as a turtle.