Nothing Personal
Page 2

Quickly she looked for an emergency of some sort that would untangle her foot from her errant mouth. Even a small trash fire would do. Nothing. “Um, I assume we’ll be having it?”
He nodded, his wicked smile blowing away the darkness in his eyes, revealing the passion she’d always suspected lurked underneath. Only it had never been directed at her. Until now.
“Yes, Faith, we’ll have to have sex to make a baby. Starting tonight.”
A tingle began at her throat and moved steadily downward, touching every female part of her. For the first time in her life she was aware of herself as a woman and flushed with sudden heat. Her mind went into sexual overdrive, imagining the two of them twined together under satin sheets, sharing intimate whispers and caresses until…
Oh, no, this would never do. She couldn’t possibly make love with him. She needed time. Time to steel her heart against falling in love.
“That won’t work for me.”
He flashed her a devastating grin. “Kind of hard to fulfill the terms of the agreement without the sex part.”
“I could be inseminated,” she blurted, then cringed. She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the thought. So clinical. But, still—sex with Ryan McKay?
“No, we can’t. Have you forgotten? Grandfather specified that conception could occur only by natural means, unless medically indicated.”
“Right. I forgot. Anyway, I’m not ready for that to happen…tonight.”
Would she ever be ready?
“This isn’t your typical situation, Faith. There are no rules about how long we have to be together. We’re not going to date for several months and do things the traditional way.”
“I know, but—”
“It’s strictly business, with sex thrown in the mix. And sex is nothing more than biology, anyway.”
The smoky heat of his gaze traveling over her body felt as tangible as if he’d actually touched her. She was grateful for the heavy suit of wool armor she wore, effectively masking the instant hardening of her nipples.
Her body had picked a fine time to come to sexual life. “I need some time, Ryan. I’m not accustomed to…to…”
“Not accustomed to having sex?” His eyes held a teasing gleam.
“That’s not what I meant at all.” How could she have let this subject come up?
“You have had sex before, haven’t you?”
She shot back without thinking. “Of course I have. Lots of times!”
“Faith.” He raised stern brows, daring her to lie. A pointless tactic on his part. She was never good at it anyway.
“Yes?” She contemplated her hands, clasped tightly together in her lap.
“Don’t avoid the subject. Have you had sex before?”
She couldn’t answer. It was too embarrassing.
“You’re a virgin.”
Could the day get any worse? How much more humiliation could she suffer? She nodded, mortified that he’d figured it out without her admission.
“Good God, Faith, why?”
“I was waiting.”
“For what? The next millennium?”
For what, indeed. For a man, obviously. She’d never even had a serious boyfriend. She’d tried the dating thing a few times, but failed miserably.
And now, hearing it from Ryan, she felt more than a little ridiculous.
A twenty-six-year-old virgin. About to marry a man who had probably bedded more women than she cared to know about.
“I was waiting for love. For the right man. I don’t know. I was just waiting.” She stood and walked to the window, the lights of Las Vegas mocking her. They were towering glitz and glamour, offering up every delicious sin available to anyone who wanted it. She was short, plain and undesirable, with absolutely nothing of value to offer.
He stepped behind her, his breath blowing against her neck. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing. Refreshing, actually.”
“It’s pathetic.” She felt miserable, not endearing. Something so personal, so intimate, and of all the people in the world to find out about it, it had to be Ryan.
He touched her shoulders lightly, and sparks flew. A shock, a tingle and then heat.
“It’s not pathetic. Turn around and look at me.”
She couldn’t. He forced her by gently turning her shoulders. She lifted her lashes, expecting to see the ridicule in his eyes, but found only compassion. And interest.
“I think you need to consider this proposal more seriously.” He looked at his watch for the millionth time in the past hour. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
He was giving her an out. She could decline the offer and still keep her job.
But in five years she’d never let Ryan McKay down. And she wasn’t going to let a silly thing like her virginity stand in the way. Besides, wasn’t it about time she had a life? Granted, this wasn’t quite what she had in mind, but it beat sitting in her apartment reading books every night.
So he didn’t love her. So what? Did she have a better offer sitting on the table at the moment? Any prospects? Hardly. And this was her chance to gain a little experience—check that—knowing what she knew about Ryan, a lot of experience, in the sex department. She had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. As long as she remembered that this was a business deal only. As long as she remembered to guard her heart.
“There’s nothing further to consider, Mr. McKay. As you stated, this is strictly business. Let’s go back to the contract, shall we?”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded quickly before she changed her mind. At Ryan’s suggestion, they moved to the table in the center of the expansive living area and spread the contract over the large glass top.
She recited the terms she already knew all too well. They sounded completely different when she related them to herself. “We have to stay married for one year, and during that time we must sleep together in the same bedroom.” She forced herself to block out the images of his hands, his mouth, his body.
“Correct.”
“And I have to become pregnant within that year.”
“Right. If no pregnancy occurs, we have to spend another year together and undergo fertility testing until you conceive. And if you can’t by then, we divorce, you get a settlement, and this whole search-for-a-bride circus starts all over again for me.”
He’d stated the terms so impersonally, yet Faith knew how much this whole charade bothered him. More than once over the past year he’d ranted to her about his manipulating grandfather. If he’d wanted a wife, he’d told her, he’d have damn well gone out and found one himself.
“I’m just going to have to hope you can bear children,” he added.
Faith shrugged. “Obviously, I have no idea. And you have to be able to…um …”
“Provide the fertilizer?” He offered a wry smile. “I’d already looked into that as a possible loophole. If I were sterile, this entire deal would be off.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, I have plenty of strong swimmers in me.”
Faith chose to ignore the implications of that statement and focused instead on the contract. “Who will monitor our marriage?”
Ryan’s eyes darkened with his frown. “My cousin, James, who stands to inherit the business if I fail, as well as grandfather’s attorney, Stan Fredericks. They’ll be shadowing us like a couple of PI’s in a bad Bogart movie. Watching our every move, making sure we sleep in the same room, insuring we’re always together.”
Wonderful. It would be like living with a camera in her face for the next year. “And if you travel, I have to go with you.”
“That’s right. As will James and Stan. And don’t forget, we have to appear before the board every month to report on the state of our marriage.”
“Yes, I remember that part.” She handed the paper back to him. “And the child we create. You want no part of it.”
He nodded. “I don’t want a child, nor do I need a family. This whole ordeal is because my grandfather had some misguided notion while on his deathbed that he needed to redeem himself. And so he thought he could show me the love he never had by forcing me into a marriage I don’t want, and require me to have a child I have no intention of raising.”
Ryan shrugged and turned to the window. He was so tired of playing this ridiculous game. And now he’d had to draw Faith into it.
She was the only one who understood and accepted him. Who had no expectations of him. Unlike his grandfather.
As if Quentin McKay had even known what love was. His grandfather had never shown even a glimpse of it to the frightened eight-year-old boy whose father had died and whose mother decided she’d rather play socialite than parent.
He’d witnessed the loveless marriage of both his parents and his grandparents, and never wanted to personally experience it himself. Now his grandfather was forcing him to do the same thing—marry for anything but love. This was Quentin McKay’s way of making amends?
“I’m sorry.” Faith’s soft voice brought him back to reality. He turned toward her and offered a smile. She’d always made him feel better.
Marriage to Faith for a year would be easy. Despite the dowdy outfits and huge glasses she wore, and the way she tried to hide her sable hair in those horrid buns, she was attractive.
Not beautiful like Erica, but then again Erica was so remote she was practically untouchable. If she hadn’t been so hungry for the settlement money she’d have never entertained the notion of marrying him. It wasn’t like she’d agreed to the marriage out of any caring or love for him.
But Faith? She would do it because she was loyal to him. Dedicated, and with a shy quality that Ryan found foreign in his usual social circle.
She oozed desirability in a way that had nothing to do with expensive clothes, artfully applied makeup or pedigree.
Faith was genuine, honest and caring. And a natural beauty. The thought of making love to her ran through his mind. And not simply for the act of procreation. He could already imagine unlocking the secrets she tried so hard to hide away.
He’d caught glimpses of them. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. The way her eyes lit up when he entered a room. Her willingness to do anything to help him with the business. The way her voice softened when she spoke to him.
“Are you certain you’re willing to sign away rights to our child?”
The harsh reality of her question shook him out of his fantasies of making love to her. What would he do with a child? Treat it the way he’d been treated? He’d never put a child through what he’d been through.
What had he been thinking asking Erica to marry him? What kind of mother would she have made? The same kind of father he’d make, no doubt. That was the problem with this deal. He hadn’t been thinking straight—not since he’d been read the terms of his grandfather’s will.
Ryan had already accepted the fact that he didn’t have the capacity to love. He’d had no loving role models. No, he wasn’t cut out to be a father. He felt a twinge, something unfamiliar as he looked at Faith and imagined that pixie smile on a tiny boy. His boy. Theirs.
Quickly and coldly he banished the image from his mind and addressed Faith’s question. She, at least, would be a good mother to the child they created. That eased his conscience somewhat.
“I’ll sign away rights and you’ll get a handsome settlement, full support and expenses for the rest of the child’s life. You’ll be well taken care of financially, Faith. You and your child.”
Faith studied him, his voice so cold and detached. He couldn’t even refer to the baby they’d make as their child or his child. Even in this, she’d be alone. Like she’d always been. Unwanted, unloved. With a child whose father didn’t love or want it. Could she do that?
Then again, this child would have a mother who did love and want it.
That’s where things would be different. She’d give her child all the love she’d never received from her own mother. And twice that amount to equal its missing father.
“There’s also the money,” he continued. “Don’t forget about the five million dollar settlement you’ll receive when the marriage ends. You and your child will never want for anything.”
“Money isn’t relevant. I have everything I need right now.” The things she’d craved, had always desired, had very little to do with money.
So why was she contemplating doing this? To help Ryan, of course.
She’d do anything for him, and always had. That was her job, wasn’t it?
Face it. Her job was her life. She was pathetic.
“It all sounds fine, Mr. McKay.”
“I think it’s time you called me Ryan.”
“All right. Ryan.” How strange, after all these years, to call him by his first name.
“Then it’s settled.”
“Umm, there’s just one more thing.”
He waited.
The sex thing still nagged at her. She was hesitant to broach the subject, but the mere thought of it caused nausea to rise up in her throat. She had to bring it up. “Before we continue, we need to discuss the sex part.”
“What about the sex part?”
How was she going to approach this? She’d never asked Ryan McKay for anything the entire time she’d worked for him. And now she was going to mess with his intentions for this agreement.
“Sex is something I don’t take lightly. It means something to me. A sharing of feelings, of deep emotion.”