Teddy Bear Heir (2 page)

"First of all, I want you to know this is not about money."

She nodded her head, reaching for another piece of bread. Cameron's parents had left him an obscene amount of money in their will. Though his fortune didn't rival his grandfather's, he'd invested it wisely and never had to worry about financial matters for the rest of his life.

"I understand."

"I just don't want to see the company that Jules has put his heart and soul into go completely down the drain."

She nodded her head.

"He's obsessed with this irrational idea. He leaves me absolutely no choice but to make this decision."

Cameron had already explained to her what he was going to do but she forced herself to ask the next question anyway.

"Isn't there...someone? Someone you're seeing, who might...want to do this particular deal with you?"

"No one I'd trust."

She watched him as he took another sip of wine. He was a brilliant, complicated man and she thought of what an utter waste it was that no woman would ever truly share his life.

"I'll need this document as soon as possible. I intend to use social media to find a suitable woman and fill this position as soon as possible.”

She bit her lip. "Won't that...humiliate Julian, just a little?"

"Oh, I have no intention of letting anyone know he's behind it. I'm going to simply say the time has come for me to marry and I'm taking applications." He took another sip of his wine. "Jules will get the point."

"I'm sure he will."

Their main dishes arrived and there was a short silence while they began their dinner. The food was exquisite, the restaurant had a lovely, restful atmosphere, but Michaela felt like she had a hundred pound weight in her stomach. She forced herself to eat several forkfuls of the pasta she'd ordered.

"How are you feeling toward your grandfather?" she finally asked. She knew she was trespassing, knew Cameron Black considered himself to be above simple emotions. But she still, with her woman's heart, wanted to try.

"He's guilty."

"Why?"

"Oh, he still feels guilty for leaving me alone with my parents all that time. Not that there was anything wrong with them. They simply liked to have a good time."

A good time, she thought, that hadn't included their little boy. She'd gone to the library and searched through back issues of the
San Francisco Examiner 
until she'd found what she was looking for.

The black and white picture had been quite revealing. Cameron had been all of five years old, clutching his grandfather's hand as he'd watched his parents' funeral. They'd been killed instantly when their private plane had gone down en route to Monaco.

He'd been left alone most of the time before his parents died, with a succession of very efficient nannies. But his grandfather had loved him, brought him back to his enormous estate on Nob Hill. He'd filled his room with toys and given his grandson everything he could want.

Cameron's childhood had been inextricably entwined with Teddy's Toys. The public had delighted in seeing the little boy taking his daily walk around the city with his grandfather. Julian Black had been the kind of man who always had candy in his coat pockets or a small stuffed toy up his sleeve.

"And that's why he wants a great-grandchild?"

Cameron sighed, then looked straight at her. And Michaela thought she would never grow tired of studying him, his dark hair, well-defined cheekbones and strong jaw. His eyes were a brilliant dark blue, and so very, very shrewd. And guarded.

"I do realize that family is important. I simply wish I had a younger sister or brother to take up the slack so I could be left alone."

She took another bite of pasta before she realized the look in his eyes had changed.

"What about you, Mike? Would you change your mind about me and ever consider an arrangement like this?"

"What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Would you consider having my child?"

* * *

He wasn't sure what had triggered it but all at once she crumpled. Her blue eyes filled with tears and she looked carefully down at her almost untouched plate.

"Mike?" he said softly, suddenly unsure of himself.

No answer, but a tear escaped from one of her eyes, then another. She reached up and wiped them away and it seemed to him that she was angry with herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice so low and shaky he had to lean forward to hear her.

"Mike," he said, then took her hand and held it, offering reassurance. She had no idea how she affected him and that was why he'd struggled to keep their relationship on a strictly business level. The way she affected his senses and the fact that she deserved more than he would ever be capable of giving her held him back.

He was, in his own way, an honorable man.

"Mike?"

She took a deep, wavering breath. "I'm sorry. What you said just... brought back memories. I was married before—"

He hadn't known that.

"And we... I mean, I couldn't have children. He wanted them quite badly. Children of his own. He wouldn't consider adoption, so we divorced."

The bastard.
His reaction to the thought of any man hurting her was so strong it caught him off guard. He tightened his hold on her hand. With his other, he reached into his suit pocket and handed her a clean white handkerchief.

"If you don't want to do this contract, I'll understand."

"No. It's all right. Sometimes it just... catches me off guard."

"How long ago did it happen?"

"Almost five years, since... when I found out I couldn't."

He patted her hand awkwardly, then let go of it while she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. It was a crime, the way fate masterminded one's life. Here he had no desire for offspring, and the whole choice was being foisted on him by Jules's ultimatum. And, Michaela, sitting across from him, soft and warm and feminine,
excellent
  mother material, couldn't have children of her own.

Life was a funny business.

He let her take her time composing herself, and didn't comment when the waiter took away her almost untouched plate. They ordered coffee and tiramisu and sat in silence.

"I can have the contract to your office in three days."

"That would be excellent."

He watched as she took a careful sip of coffee, then looked at him and met his eyes.

"I'm flattered you asked me," she said.

"I was dead serious."

Her eyes were still bright with unshed tears. It touched him the way she blinked than back.

"You're going to make a beautiful baby," she whispered.

He smiled at her. "You're sure I couldn't interest you in a trial run? What I have in mind for you doesn't have much to do with having babies."

She smiled back, then slowly shook her head.

"I'm out of your league, Cameron. And I think I'm wise enough to know it."

"I could be quite good to you."

She shook her head again and he watched as her shoulder-length, dark auburn hair swung from side to side. It was straight and smooth and shiny, picking up the low lighting and reflecting it back. He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it, to see it spread out on a pillow beneath her head...

"I know you would be. But I need more than that."

He leaned back in his chair and studied her. "You and Jules and all that talk about love. It's too bad he's not a little younger, or you older. You would suit each other admirably.''

"I care for your grandfather a great deal." He watched as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and wondered why she was nervous. "He helped me tremendously last year when my father passed away."

"He always goes that extra mile." He hadn't known about that, either. He'd been in Germany for much of the year, checking out new sources of toys for the company.

They finished their meal and left the restaurant. Cameron's car was waiting out front, the driver nonchalantly reading a copy of
The
National Star.
When he saw his boss, he jumped to attention and pulled the sleek black car toward the curb.

Cameron helped Michaela into the car and gave the driver her address.

* * *

She sat in her bedroom’s bay window for most of the night, looking up at the stars and wondering what her father would have said to her had she told him about this particular problem.

Oh, Pop, what am I going to do?

Michael Larkin had been a policeman and the best father a little girl could ever want. Fiona Larkin had died in childbirth but Michael had never made his daughter feel like she was to blame.

It had been the two of them against the world for as long as she could remember. He'd been behind her every whim. Taking her to the local fire station when she'd professed a desire, at the age of five, to be a fireman. Scraping up the money for the ballet lessons she'd loved and coming to every single recital, even though she'd known she was a terrible dancer.

Making her feel loved in a way no one else ever had.

Cheering her on through law school. At her graduation, so proud he was almost bursting with it.

Throwing a party when she passed the bar exam and inviting almost everyone she'd ever known growing up.

Helping her through a divorce that had destroyed her self-confidence as a woman and made her feel as if a piece of her soul had been ripped from her body. By her side, on her side. Always. Fighting for her, caring for her. Loving her.

He'd always been there, until he'd passed away in his sleep almost a year ago. His heart, the doctor had said. He'd always had too much, she thought. And afterwards, as life went on in the house she'd grown up in that suddenly seemed so empty without his presence, she'd realized what it meant to be truly alone.

He'd left her the rambling old Victorian house, his cats, no outstanding bills, and enough money so she didn't have to worry about financial matters if she was careful.

She missed him every single day of her life.

As Michaela gazed up at the stars, she realized her father had left her a powerful legacy. He'd taught her what it was to love and be loved. She wasn't afraid of an intimate relationship with a man. She wanted a marriage, a partnership that encompassed true intimacy and love on every level.

That was why she'd cut Cameron off from the beginning.

Now, the way she felt inside at the thought of him marrying and having a child, she wasn't so sure she'd done the right thing.

Okay, Pop, what would you do?

She thought she saw one of the stars twinkle brightly in the night sky. Funny, how you could be as blasé about an afterlife as you wanted, but when someone you loved died it was comforting to think of a Heaven. She hoped her father was up there making people laugh and playing the classical music he loved full blast.

She knew what she had to do. She had to draw up a contract and make sure it met Cameron's specifications. She would have to meet this particular woman, as Cameron would probably bring her to the office to sign the contract and have it witnessed.

She'd have to think of her in his bed, in his arms, making love, having his child... Living a life that, even with that cold-blooded contract, seemed so much more full of passion than her own did, stretched out in front of her. Endless, lonely days.

It wasn't her style to feel sorry for herself but the facts spoke for themselves. She was honest with the men she dated. Up-front. When things became serious and she thought she could trust them, she told them she could never have a child.

Two men since her husband had left, both gazing at her with a horrible sort of pity in their eyes. Both experiences had been acutely painful. Neither had taken her into his arms and reassured her, told her that it was all right, it was her they loved and not what her body was supposed to effortlessly be able to do.

At least Cameron was more honest about it. Upfront. He wanted what he wanted and was willing to go the legal mile to get it. You couldn't fault him for having a devious bone in his body.

Gomez, her father's cat, jumped up on her lap. He leaned into her, purring, and she rubbed the top of his head. Morticia lay on the carpet watching her. The two black and white cats missed Michael Larkin as much as she did.

Though she'd changed a few things in the Victorian, there were three things that remained sacred. Her father's cats, his garden, and his piano.

Both cat's loud purring filled the still night air. Michaela pushed her hair out of her eyes and went back to scratching Gomez beneath his chin.

Maybe you should've taken Cameron up on his offer. Maybe, just to feel... something.

Her heart picked up speed at the thought of making love with Cameron. For despite his deceptively laid-back style, she had a feeling he'd be nothing but masculine passion and fire once he had a woman in his arms.

One of the deepest regrets of her life was that she couldn't be that woman.

* * *

One of the deepest regrets of his life was that she couldn't be that woman.

Cameron stood by one of the large windows in his bedroom, a glass of wine in his hand. And wondered at his inability to feel.

Oh, it didn't take a genius to figure out why he was the way he was, why he reacted to things the way he did. He'd never been in therapy, as his personality was deeply private. He knew that since he'd been a child he hadn't trusted in the basic goodness of life. It was so much easier to carve one's way through life making sure you had absolutely nothing to lose.

Empires could be rebuilt. Companies could be brought out of the red. Business was so easy because as passionate as he was about his work there was a part of him that was never touched by it.

He wasn't a man who gave himself over to anything.

Ever.

But love... What was love, anyway? In all of his life he'd seen it cause nothing but pain. Joy as well, of course, but to his mind there was no amount of earthly ecstasy and happiness that made up for the emotional upheaval love could produce.