The Baby Contract (The Billionaire Bachelor Series) (10 page)

She hadn’t divulged her plans involving Liam to her dad or brother, nor did she have any idea how to approach them if she did conceive. A headache settled into her temples, the aftereffects of a wine and tension combination. Combined with the altitude, she might have a killer headache in a few hours. Liam had tuned to a radio station playing a business related talk show. Abby wished for quiet instead.

The first glimpse of the cabin took her breath away. Glass windows dominated the front, tinted and reflecting the surrounding land and blue skies. Natural timber made up the log home. Not a simple hunter’s retreat, it looked to be a resort. Liam hit a button and the garage door lifted. He pulled inside, cut the engine, and hopped out. Abby followed, walking to the back of the vehicle. He already had his bags, and hers. When she reached for her things he shook his head and walked to the door leading inside the home. She wasn’t quite sure how to take his gentlemanly-type behavior. She hugged her purse and trailed behind him.

They stepped into a huge, gourmet kitchen filled with polished, stainless steel appliances and dark gray marble countertops. Copper pots and pans hung suspended over an island. A natural stone fireplace dominated the living area, soft-looking brown leather furniture sat before it. The whole open floor plan was a showplace of simplistic décor and design. Simple, but masterfully decorated—money had gone into the style. Her own second-hand store furnishings fleeted through her mind’s eye, and she lifted her chin. Though the cabin was expansive and expensive, she’d take her quaint bungalow any day.

“I had the place stocked with food,” Liam mentioned in passing. His cellphone buzzed, and he set their bags down and dug in his pants pocket. “You can take your things to the first bedroom on the right.” He answered the call and walked toward a table, his briefcase and laptop tucked under one arm.

She gathered her stuff and walked to the bedroom he’d indicated. The fireplace had been duplicated in the room, and opposite it sat a massive bed. Built from logs and complimenting the home, its fluffy white comforter looked inviting. After spending a sleepless night, she wanted to curl up on the mattress and test if it was as soft as it looked.

Instead, she chose a couple of drawers and unpacked the clothing items she’d brought. She paused when she withdrew a pink silk nightie, an impulsive decision. Sheer and mid-thigh length, it was the naughtiest thing she owned. Nothing about the week would involve romance, and she felt stupid for bringing it along. She tucked it into the drawer with her more conventional cotton bras and briefs. With that done, she moved to the french doors leading out onto a patio. She opened them and breathed in the crisp, smog-free mountain air. The sun shone bright, the cloud cover having dispersed during their drive. She lifted her face, enjoying its comforting warmth.

An eerie wail echoed in the distance. It took several heart-stopping seconds to recognize it as a bull elk bugling for a mate. A haunting sound of love, an operetta for any interested females within earshot. She grinned. Austin didn’t have much wildlife outside of its famed bats, and she appreciated the nature surrounding her. Even if there were bears, she planned a short hike as soon as she could get away.

When the cool air got too much for her cardigan, she walked back inside and closed the doors. The fireplace held logs and she wondered if she could light a fire. A crackling fire would be nice in the evenings.

Liam walked into the room with his bags. She watched as he dropped them by the chest of drawers where she’d unpacked, before walking over to the bed. He sat down and pulled off a shoe.

Abby’s face heated. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was the room I was supposed to go to.”

He leaned down, pulling off the other shoe. “You’re in the right place.”

She frowned. “I thought I’d be in the guest room.”

He sat up. The smile she’d viewed while in his SUV, the dazzling one which had knocked her for a loop, appeared. Viewing it in the intimacy of a bedroom doubled its impact.

“I don’t see any reason to have separate rooms, Miss Haden. Not really practical for what we’re here for.”

His eyes caught the sunlight cast through the french doors, making them shine with a devilish glint. She fell speechless, and turned back to the glass, hoping to hide her flustered face. She heard him rise and walk to the chest of drawers. A drawer opened, and several seconds passed before she heard his masculine purr. Curious, she turned and he held up her pink nightie, looking it over. Her stomach dropped to her feet.

“Nice,” he said. “I imagine you’ll look incredible in this. And equally incredible coming out of it.”

When he looked her way, his gaze pinned her to the spot even though instinct told her to flee from her mortification. He let the nightie drop into the drawer. He walked over to her, stopping too close, invading her craved personal space. His cologne enveloped her, stealing her breath. No, not his cologne, it was his bearing that held all the power in the moment—tall, strong, virile male, the epitome of confidence and testosterone. She stared at his mouth, his lips slightly full, softer looking than she expected, inviting wandering ideas of how his kiss would feel. If he’d be gentle, or if he would just
take
her with that mouth. Take her over and over and over…

She swallowed and realized she’d been holding her breath.
He’ll be efficient.
She repeated the mantra in her mind as if it’d help ground her. Imagining him as a wild and wanton lover was entirely too much to handle.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, but his fingertips didn’t quite meet her skin. Needle pricks of desire tingled beneath his near-touch. Enough to make her nipples bud and her pussy tighten. The room started a slow spin and she pressed against the cold glass behind her, needing its support. Liam’s tongue darted out, stroking over his top lip. She imagined it doing the same thing over her clit.

“Tell me, Abigail,” he began. He braced his hands against the window on each side of her. Beneath the deep rumble of his voice hid an erotic promise she couldn’t even begin to fathom. “What kind of woman are you?”

Abby searched her scrambled brain for an answer and came up empty. She squeezed her eyes shut, but blocking him out was impossible. “Mr. Whitmore,” she managed. She cleared her throat and opened her eyes, focusing on his tiepin. “I don’t understand.”

He made a low, growling sound in his throat. “Mr. Whitmore? Not that the formality couldn’t be kinky during the right times, but I’d prefer if you’d call me Liam.”

Abby blinked, trying to regain her equilibrium. “Okay, uh, Liam, I don’t understand the question.”

He pushed away from her and retook his seat on the bed. She felt both relieved and unbearably disappointed.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked.

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she got out a
no
.

“Good, I’m not sure if I’m prepared to deflower a woman this week. Are you a lesbian?”

Taken aback, she could only shake her head at the second. Did she put out lesbian vibes? Had she become that uncoordinated around men?

“I ask because you look terrified right now,” Liam replied to her unasked questions. “In order to make a baby, I’m going to have to touch you at some point. Preferably at many points this week, the more sex we have, the better the odds.”

He undid his tie and loosened the top three buttons of his shirt. Then he removed his cufflinks, rolling his sleeves to his elbows, exposing the sexiest forearms she’d ever seen.
Sexy forearms, really?
Her hormones had gone off the deep end.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve never had this kind of sex before,” she stated, trying to keep her voice level and unaffected by sexy forearms. “Casual sex, that is. I don’t know you, Liam.”

“What do you need to know?”

The sexual tension eased, though its remaining threads still tugged her off kilter. How could she learn about the man in just a few days? It usually took weeks for her to become comfortable with someone. She sought for some avenue into his personal life.

“Do you bring women here often?” In her head it’d seemed casual, but once out in the open it sounded almost accusatory. She winced, though he didn’t appear fazed by her bluntness.

“You’re the first. I don’t make it up here that often.”

For some reason his answer pleased her.

“I have a few things to catch up on then I’ll fix us a meal. What do you like to eat?”

She figured she’d be fending for herself as far as meals went. “I’m not picky. Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”

“Steak and salad it is. I’m not much of a cook. There’s a library down the hall. My mother collected quite a few books over the years. You’re welcome to check them out while we’re here.” He rose and left her alone.

She turned her attention back out the window, but not finding the distraction she needed, decided to try the library.

Chapter 11

Liam couldn’t keep his attention on work. Images of the negligee he’d discovered stashed in the drawer teased his imagination. Its pink tone would complement Abigail’s coloring. The sheer fabric would reveal hints of the places he most wanted to explore. Areas he wanted to discover with eyes, fingers, and tongue.

He licked his lips. When was the last time he’d savored a woman’s taste? Felt the spasm of orgasm in his mouth? He considered the question.
Too damned long.
A painful ache had settled in his groin and he reached down, adjusting his hard-on for the fifth time. They were there for sex, but he felt hesitant.

Abigail needed to relax in his presence; the last thing he wanted was a woman not fully willing in the moment. He wasn’t sure why she seemed so wary around him. Perhaps inexperience? Or as she’d more or less stated, she needed commitment first? Liam had never encountered a woman who required a relationship for sex. Though he couldn’t imagine a woman with her looks would want for bed partners. Knowing he wasn’t one in a string of men she’d had left him oddly pleased.

Abigail had disappeared into the library. He’d walked by the room and caught sight of her curled into a chair, reading one of the old volumes his mother loved. It pleased him she liked to read. Active and intelligent minds liked books. Especially the classics held in the library.

Liam punched at the keys on his laptop until he finally gave up the effort to concentrate. He walked to the fridge, dug out a couple of T-bones, some vegetables, and got to work on a late lunch. Even the task of cooking couldn’t maintain his focus. Liam didn’t want to push the evening, but more than anything he wanted Abigail naked. She’d dressed in a fitted knit top and hip-hugging jeans, nothing one could consider revealing. He’d guessed her to be lean, but she had a good amount of womanly curves. Her breasts would fit perfectly in his palms.

He swallowed, staring down at the sizzling steaks on the rangetop, but not seeing them.

“Smells good. Do you need help?”

He blinked and looked over his shoulder. Abigail stood in the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. Body language that read
Keep Out
.

A rush of pleasure washed through him when she smiled. “You can throw together the salads.” He nodded to the fixings on the countertop. “Salad dressing is still in the fridge.”

Abigail walked over, took the lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots, and started chopping. He watched her from the corner of his eye. Her hands were nimble and quick, and he imagined how they’d feel on his body. Stroking, fondling, gripping…

“The library is amazing,” she said, breaking into the developing fantasy. “Caroline has some first editions that should be in a museum, not a bookshelf.”

Liam cleared his throat, keeping his hips angled away to hide his erection. “I mentioned that once. Mom says ‘a book’s meant to be read, not to be studied through glass.’”

Her smile returned, sending another rush of pleasure through his system. God he felt like a teenager on a first date.

“I can see her point,” Abigail said. “But I was afraid to touch that first edition
To Kill A Mockingbird
. It’s my favorite book.”

“It’s my mother’s favorite too. It’s autographed by the author.”

Abigail’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”

Liam shook his head. “My father found it at auction. It was a gift to my mother on their wedding day.”

“That’s romantic.”

Liam lifted his shoulder. Talking about his parents’ relationship made him uncomfortable.

They fell into silence. The sound of the knife slicing through the lettuce filled the room, the only sound to compete with the hum of the refrigerator and frying steaks. Doing such domestic chores left him feeling cozy. Liam wasn’t used to such feelings and didn’t know how to assimilate them. Instead of considering it, he decided to focus on his plan for the night.

They had no time to waste, the more they had sex the more chances Abigail would conceive. But this sterile approach didn’t sit well with him. Though he’d had meaningless flings in his life, with Abigail things seemed different. She might want a kid or the money more—he didn’t know which—but one thing he did know, she wouldn’t take sex lightly. Leaving him in a delicate spot. On one hand, their intimacy had to remain casual, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to hurt her.

With the steaks and salad ready, they walked over to the dining table. Abigail nibbled on her food, looking lost in thought and peering everywhere but his direction. Liam tried to pull her into light discussion, but her brief, one-word answers didn’t invite much conversation. The idea she dreaded having sex with him was a blow to his ego. If she didn’t respond to his touch, no doubt this venture would fail. He couldn’t have sex with a woman who didn’t want him, regardless of what lay on the line. He chewed a bite of steak, considering his options. An idea formed. He looked out the window. The nighttime skies would be clear.

“There’s a lake not too far from here,” he began. “It’s beautiful at night.”

Her skittish gaze finally settled on his face.