The Cowboy's Baby: A BWWM Billionaire Cowboy Pregnancy Romance (9 page)

Before she could stride away from the paddock, the rancher caught her arm briefly, gently. “You’re sure you’re alright?” He knew the last thing he needed at this juncture was to touch her, but he couldn’t resist one last lingering second.

“I’m fine.” Her smile was forced this time, making him feel like the scum of the earth. “And the baby’s fine too.” Her final statement served to remind him why he’d brought her to the ranch in the first place; and truthfully, it wasn’t to take advantage of Alyssa’s absence and ravish Esme’s utterly delectable body.

No, it was to watch over the health of the child within her body – which Daniel was beginning to realize might be more vastly complicated than he’d first assumed.

***

Chapter Five: Developments

Coming here might have been a mistake.

Esme struggled with the notion as she ran her fingers over the tiny swell of her abdomen, soaking in the luxury of a hot bath.

Even though weeks had passed since her and Daniel’s “accidental” kiss during her first and only riding lesson, there wasn’t a day that passed that Esme didn’t struggle with her hormones and her own mind – both of which seemed to be growing increasingly rampant as her pregnancy progressed.

She could lie to herself – it wasn’t as if she wasn’t enjoying the luxury of Daniel’s estate. There was a temperature controlled swimming pool in which she could take a dip whenever she liked. She was able to walk the expansive grounds, through herds of cattle and horses, whenever she pleased, and get a taste of the outdoors in ways unavailable to her in the city. There were a thousand channels for her to watch on TV and even an indoor gym for her to take advantage of in her spare time.

But therein lie the problem: Esme had entirely too much spare time – and spending it trying to remain far from the reach of Daniel Hartsford was extremely hard.

She could still remember the way his mouth felt against hers – the way the polite, almost painstakingly careful man had pulled her flush against him, his erection pressing into her belly as he’d plundered her mouth with his own.

It had been one of the most exhilarating moments of her entire life. Quite frankly, Esme hadn’t known that kissing a man could be like that – hot, turgid and painfully arousing, almost as effective as a far more carnal form of foreplay.

So now, she had to deal with knowing exactly how Daniel tasted, knowing that his bedroom was only one floor above hers. There were nights she woke up covered in sweat, slick and aching between her legs as she cursed the ridiculous heights her hormones had been driven to.

He felt guilty.

She’d known it the moment she’d seen his expression in the wake of their kiss. Though he might worry that Alyssa might never come back, he knew there was a chance – and that kissing his surrogate on the property where Alyssa had once been with him was more than a little dangerous.

At the thought of the baby’s mother, Esme scowled. If she did come back, she’d better come back ready to take responsibility for her child. She hadn’t really appeared to take things seriously in the clinic and the fact that she’d walked out on Daniel so soon after conception spoke volumes of how important she considered the matter.

Tracing damp fingers over the minute bulge of her abdomen, Esme sighed. If she’d have known that being a surrogate would involve so much drama, she might have thought twice before signing up. As it was, she’d been so high strung that she had barely been into Daniel’s expansive, heavenly kitchen.

Perhaps that was the problem.

Since she wasn’t working anymore, her mind was idle – and when her mind was idle, there was little more for her to do than dwell over the devastating billionaire whose roof she was currently under. Stretching languishingly, the dark-haired woman hauled herself from the bathtub to dry off before slipping into her cotton nightgown.

While she could still fit the garment for now, soon it would be far too small for her. The young woman’s lips curved as she contemplated the fact. She would see what she could do to hurry it along and burn off some of her nervous energy.

After twisting her damp hair onto a knot at the top of her head, Esme made her way carefully downstairs towards the kitchen. As she always did since the incident with her and Daniel, she peered into the open living space at the bottom of the stairs before she took the last few steps. Daniel, she knew, usually retired to his room early if he wasn’t in his office and today was no exception. The entire first floor of the house was utterly deserted, and not for the first time, Esme found herself wondering where on earth the staff were that kept the house clean.

There was no way he went around tidying up himself, and she’d never seen a single maid. They must be like well-trained ninjas. When Esme padded, barefoot, into the expansive, gleaming kitchen, however, all thoughts of maids and hidden staff vanished.

Though she’d been in the room several times since she’d arrived in the house, she’d never had the time to stop and truly admire it. Dark marble floors, what seemed like endless lines of mahogany cabinetry, state of the art-stainless steel appliances – from the immense double fridge to the six burner stove – and every possible gadget you could possibly think of. Coupled with a floor space of roughly seven hundred fifty square feet and you literally had her dream kitchen.

For a moment, she simply stood in the center of it all, savoring the sheer size and utility of the place. Then, a grin splitting her face, she made a beeline for the pantry, set on appeasing the hungry life growing within her.

Though the kitchen wasn’t as familiar to her as her own, Esme soon found everything she needed. It was almost as if a chef already resided there, so organized was the pantry. Within an hour, she’d made a sizeable mess, singing softly to herself as she prepared dishes from the top of her head – whatever caught her fancy. It seemed like it had been ages since she’d been allowed creative freedom in a kitchen – and never one of this size.

She knew she was making entirely too much food for one person, but Esme hardly cared. When she cooked, time, place, and quantity cased to access. All the tension bled from her as she sampled, added ingredients and sautéed, stirred and baked to her heart’s content. She reveled in the quality of the ingredients in Daniel’s kitchen – pure Colombian dark chocolate, Madagascar vanilla, Anchoa chiles from Argentina…

A low sound of appreciation escaped her as she sampled the chocolate chili sauce she’d created to go on her rare filet mignon before she sidled over to continue pan-frying some lightly seasoned baby potatoes. Then, she quickly sautéed the spinach she was working on before checking on her white chocolate soufflé.

She pinched off a corner of her beef to savor before her stomach rumbled, making her laugh softly. It seemed like the little one was just as hungry as she was. Honestly, it seemed like since she’d been pregnant, she had to eat every two hours or so. She wondered, off hand, if Daniel had the same appetite as his son or daughter. The man was immense. He had to put away as much as a small horse – especially if he worked on the ranch as much as she suspected.

“Esme?”

Jumping, the young woman whirled, torn from her thoughts as the very subject of them appeared before her. Quickly, she turned down the heat on her spinach before she burned it, straightening with her hands held before her like a criminal caught in the act.

Daniel stood in the main entryway of the kitchen, ten feet away, clad in a pair of dark sweat pants and a white t-shirt that exposed the rippling muscles of his arms. He appeared to be freshly showered, his damp hair slicked back from his face. His short beard was carefully groomed, his feet bare, and Esme swallowed thickly as her libido immediately kicked into overdrive. Heat shot to pool between her legs as she momentarily forgot everything she was currently cooking.

Christ. Did he have a right to be so good-looking?

The man had to be over a decade older than her and still he haunted her dreams like some teenage heartthrob. She was a grown woman, wasn’t she? Nothing said she couldn’t resist his ridiculous allure, right?

The man lifted his nose into the air, sniffing lightly before his lips curved in divine appreciation. “What
is
that smell?”

Esme shuddered, knowing that any attempt to reign in her libido would be a lost cause. “It’s…um…filet mignon.” She ventured tentatively, with sautéed spinach and baby potatoes.” At that moment, the double oven beeped, announcing it was time to check her soufflés. Quickly, she turned from the man, feeling his eyes on her back as she rushed across the kitchen to extract her precious package from the heat of the oven.

They were utterly gorgeous – the perfect light brown color with bubbling beige centers from which white chocolate ganache would ooze from them when they were penetrated. Esme’s mouth watered at the very sight of them as she very gently set them on the counter to cool.

“
You
made all this?”

The young woman turned back to Daniel to see him hovering over the beef resting on the cutting board. When his eyes met hers and locked, her stomach did a little somersault that had nothing to do with her pregnancy. She nodded quickly. “Is it really so surprising.?”

Please don’t let him be one of those guys who thought women shouldn’t be chefs. She’d fought enough men with those attitudes to last her a lifetime.

“When you said you worked in a restaurant, I assumed…” He trailed off, his expression turning sheepish. “I apologize. I just smelled your cooking from upstairs and I couldn’t help but come down. I’m starving. I…hope I’m not intruding.”

For a moment, the silence hung between them as Esme contemplated whether or not she could handle being in the same room with him when she so vividly remembered the burn of his mouth against her own. Slowly, she shook her head. “You’re not intruding.” It might have been the bravest thing she’d ever said, considering that she felt like she might jump the man at any moment and offend his sensibilities. “Go ahead and grab a plate. No, actually…” Taking a chance, she padded across the kitchen to push him gently out of the way. “Let me make you one. There’s just sauces and a bit of fresh ground pepper…it’s better this way…” She cast a cursory glance in his direction, trying to ignore the warmth of his body against hers. “Is that ok?”

“Perfectly fine.” The gigantic man gazed down at her as if he were seeing her in a new light, and Esme tried to quell the pride welling in her breast. How long had it been since she’d cooked for someone besides her mother? Years, really. Unless you counted restaurants stealing her recipes, that was.

She made each of them a plate with her rare filet mignon, the perfectly fried potatoes and the spinach, before pouring them each glasses of a merlot she’d come upon in the small wine section of the pantry. It would go perfectly with their meal, and her doctor had assured her that a tiny nip every once in a while wouldn’t hurt the baby.

It was slightly strange sitting at the table with Daniel for the first time, but the sense of surrealism was more than compensated for by the look of bliss on the man’s face upon his first bite of steak. Daniel’s eyes slid closed as his mouth shut around the fork and his expression was so much like what Esme imagined he might look mid-thrust that she squirmed slightly in her chair.

She had to force herself to take a bite of her own meal; relaxation came when her body sagged in her chair at the taste of the chili chocolate sauce and the delicate flavor of the beef. It wasn’t as if Daniel hadn’t been feeding her but this…this was absolute bliss.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Daniel’s eyes burned into her with a new interest that made her grin. If there was one thing she was confident about – one thing about which she could talk for hours on end – it was her love for cooking. In her enthusiasm, it was easy to forget that she and Daniel were supposed to be fighting their attraction for one another.

“A bit of culinary school, a bit of my own personal flair, a bit of my mother’s influence…a whole lot of different things thrown into one pot, really. You like it?”

“Understatement of the decade.” Daniel took another bite of steak, a low groan of pleasure escaping him. “This is better than I’ve had in some three star Michelin restaurants.”

Esme beamed with pleasure. “Really?”

“Without a doubt.” The man tucked into his meal with gusto. It took him under twenty minutes to finish everything on his plate – and Esme had piled it pretty high with a sizeable cut of filet mignon and plenty of veggies. “Is there more of this?”

Esme stared at him, awed, for a moment, by his mountainous appetite before she remembered to answer. “There’s plenty. I made a ton.”

“This is amazing, Esme. Really.” Rising from the table, Daniel went for another helping and Esme couldn’t help but gaze after the pert line of his behind. She then proceeded to watch him devour two more helpings of the food she’d prepared. Even she, who was eating for two, couldn’t have contemplated eating so much. When Daniel was finally done, leaning back in his chair to place his hands contentedly over his stomach, she was repressing laughter.

“When was the last time you had a home cooked meal, Daniel?”

He appeared to consider a long moment before he answered. “I can’t rightly recall. I don’t cook and Alyssa…she was certainly never into anything in the kitchen.” The man’s face fell for a moment and Esme’s stomach twisted. Without a doubt, the man was remembering his absent lover, which meant it was time for her to beat a hasty retreat.