Let's Have A Baby!

“Let’s Get This Straight, Jessica Stephens, Right Here, Right Now,” Letter to Reader Title Page CHRISTY LOCKHART Acknowledgments Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Epilogue Copyright

“Let’s Get This Straight, Jessica Stephens, Right Here, Right Now,”

Kurt said. “If I ever become a father, I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Skin to naked skin. There won’t be any contracts, or doctors, or agreements.” His voice dropped a hostile octave. “If I ever have a baby, it will be the result of lovemaking, soft and sweet, hard and fast, but lovemaking, by every definition of the word.”

She paled.

“I’d be married, Jessie, and my wife would have my complete and total commitment. There would be no payment, except an emotional one. And that cost would be high. I’d demand everything she had to offer.”

Dear Reader,

April brings showers, and this month Silhouette Desire wants to shower you with six new, passionate love stories!

Cait London’s popular Blaylock family returns in our April MAN OF THE MONTH title, Blaylock’s Bride. Honorable Roman Blaylock grapples with a secret that puts him in a conflict between confiding in the woman he loves and fulfilling a last wish.

The provocative series FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE BRIDES continues with Leanne Banks’s The Secretary and the Millionaire, when a wealthy CEO turns to his assistant for help in caring for his little girl.

Beverly Barton’s next tale in her 3 BABIES FOR 3 BROTHERS miniseries, His Woman, His Child, shows a rugged heartbreaker transformed by the heroine’s pregnancy. Powerful sheikhs abound in Sheikh’s Ransom, the Desire debut title of Alexandra Sellers’s dramatic new series, SONS OF THE DESSERT. A marine gets a second chance at love in Colonel Daddy, continuing

Maureen Child’s popular series BACHELOR BATTALION. And in Christy Lockhart’s Let’s Have a Baby!, our BACHELORS AND BABIES selection, the hero must dissuade the heroine from going to a sperm bank and convince her to let him father her child—the old-fashioned way!

Allow Silhouette Desire to give you the ultimate indulgence—all six of these fabulous April romance books!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Let’s Have a Baby!

Christy Lockhart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTY LOCKHART

married her real-life hero, Jared, who proved to her that dreams really do come true. They live in Colorado with their two children, Raymond and Whitney.

Christy remembers always wanting to be a writer. She even talked her elementary school librarian into “publishing” her books. She notes always preferring romances because they’re about that special moment when dreams are possible and the future is a gift to unfold.

You can write to Christy at P.O. Box 448, Eastlake, CO 80614.

With thanks, as always,

to Pamela Johnson and Lisa Craig

for invaluable input and insight.

Also dedicated to Ray and Alice Pacheco, the best

in-laws a woman could be blessed with. Thanks for

helping me figure out what love is all about....

Prologue

Columbine Crossing Courier

“Around the Town” by Miss Starr

Could our very own bookkeeper, Jessica Stephens, be knitting baby booties after work hours?

Rumor has it that Jessica was seen at the general store purchasing pink and blue yarn, knitting needles and several patterns for baby clothing. To Miss Starr’s knowledge, Jessica has no nieces or nephews, and that can only mean one thing....

I wonder who’s the lucky father? This may be Columbine Crossing’s best kept secret, besides Miss Star’s identity!

I’ll be back next week, faithful readers. Your intrepid reporter promises to bring you the name of the baby’s father.

For now, this is all the news you can use.

Miss Starr surreptitiously glanced around the post office, making sure she was alone before clipping her article from the Courier. She never kept the originals, so no one would discover who was Miss Starr’s real-life counterpart.

After patting the neat bun at her nape, she slid the newsprint into a folder, then locked it in the filing cabinet.

Mercy. Jessica Stephens? Possibly pregnant? Who would have believed it? It amazed Miss Starr that Jessica had been able to keep the bloom of true love hidden for this long.

Miss Starr frowned, wondering who the father might be. It certainly was a mystery! Her frown faded, replaced by a grin. There was little that gave her more pleasure than solving a good mystery...especially where love was concerned.

After all, having been born on Valentine’s Day some sixty years ago—she never said just how many years—she was the small mountain town’s self-appointed Cupid. Not only that, but now that Miss Starr had a newspaper column, she had an obligation to keep the town’s residents informed.

And she took her responsibilities seriously, indeed.

Moving in front of the post office’s large window, she glanced down the street toward the church.

In her opinion, it had been far too long since the bells rang out for a wedding—almost two years if her memory was correct...which it most certainly was.

The town’s welcome sign wavered in the cold, early spring wind gusting from the tip of Eagle’s Peak, some 14,000 feet high. The sign listed the town’s population at 972 people. If Jessie were indeed pregnant, the sign would need to be changed to 973.

Nothing could make Miss Starr happier.

One

“You want me to what?“ Shock and disbelief propelled Kurt Majors to his feet.

Jessie Stephens winced, then licked her lower lip.

Jaw clenched, he stared at her, unable to believe he’d heard right.

After a shaky exhalation, Jessie bravely looked at him. “I realize this comes as a surprise to you—”

“Surprise?” he interrupted, shock now turning to anger. “Lady, surprise doesn’t come close.”

“Please, just hear me out.”

He raised his hand to stop her, but she ignored him, tipping back her chin to unflinchingly meet his gaze.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, Kurt. I know it seems sudden, but I promise you, I’ve looked at all the angles and considered all the options. This isn’t a spur of the moment decision.”

Jessie blinked several times, then hurried on. “You’re the perfect man to father my child.”

“The answer’s no, Jessie.”

“Kurt, you once told me that if I needed anything, anything, you’d be there for me, no questions asked.”

“For God’s sake, Jessie, the offer didn’t include getting you pregnant.”

She twirled her thumbs together. From years of knowing her, he recognized the nervousness in the gesture. After long moments, she looked at him again, pleading eyes connecting with the hardness of his stare.

A lesser man might have folded right then.

After stilling her motions, she spoke quietly, “I believed you were a man of your word.”

A pulse ticked in his temple. “Are you questioning my integrity?”

Wisely she took a step backward and shook her head vehemently. “No. Never.”

The fire crackled, punctuating the quiet. Jessie jumped.

“Won’t work, Jessie. I’m not into manipulation. You should know better.”

“I’m making a mess of this.” Obviously trying to gather her thoughts, she stalled for time, pushing dark blond bangs back from her forehead. “I don’t want you to think this is all about me, that I’m expecting you to do this for free.”

She’d lost her mind.

He’d always admired her bravery and the way she thought things through. That was, until right now.

The ticking in his temple became an all-out throb.

“I’m willing to do your books for the next five years at no charge if you’ll do me this one favor.”

“You’re going to pay me to get you pregnant?”

Silence thundered and tension sparked.

“I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly.”

Keeping time with the fury flashing through him, Kurt drummed his fingers on the mantel in an ominous staccato. Then, as tension tightened to a snapping point, he stopped. “How would you put it, Jessie?”

She spoke slowly, as if measuring her words. “I see it more like we’re helping each other, you know, mutual benefit.”

“Stud service for bookkeeping.” He pounded his fist on the mantel. “Nice ring to it.”

She retreated farther, until her back connected with the windowsill. The width of the ranch house’s large living room separated them, and it wasn’t enough space.

Her fingers were laced, and her knuckles had whitened. “That’s not how it is.”

He debated whether or not he should throw her out. Before he reached a decision, she plowed ahead once more, her tenacity matched only by her insanity.

“This is a smart business arrangement for you,” she insisted, her words wavering.

Tears thickened her voice. He watched her choke them back as he’d seen her do so many times in childhood.

“You’ve been paying me to do the ranch’s books for a couple of years. We both know that in order for you to grow and meet your projections, you need to hire at least one more hand. I make enough money from my other customers, so I can afford to do yours free. If you don’t have to pay me, you’ll have extra money to achieve your goals.”

“You’ve got it all figured out,” he all but snarled.

“This is perfect. Don’t you see, Kurt?”

“No, I don’t.” He started drumming his fingers again. She’d been right about one thing. She had thought through all the angles. Didn’t matter. Wrong was wrong. Nothing would make him change the moral beliefs encoded in his DNA. “Dress it up any way you want, Jessie. Disguise it and try and make it more palatable. All you want from me is stud service.”

“Okay, Kurt. If that’s what you want to call it.”

His eyes narrowed. She actually thought she could convince him to reduce the act of lovemaking to a business decision, as if bringing a baby into the world was a commodity to be bought and sold, balanced on some ledger.

Damn her and her determination.

Jessie, the girl he’d looked out for, the teen he’d protected, the woman he did volunteer work with, wanted to take their years of friendship and working together and smash them, making them something cheap and tawdry, something she could get from any man.

“Will you do it?” Her whisper was soft, hopeful. “For me?”

Fury licked at his insides, the same way the fire licked at the log it greedily consumed in the grate. “Assuming I was foolish enough to agree to this lunacy, Jessie, how did you plan on us going about the act? Inviting me over for coffee and sex?”

Color rushed into her face, then drained, leaving her pale.

“Were you planning to slip into something comfortable and asking me to join you in the bedroom? How about a glass of wine first, to settle your nerves? No, probably not. That might not be good for the baby.”

“Kurt—”

She’d pushed him beyond reason. Demolishing the distance between them, he locked his hands around her shoulders. He captured her gaze and refused to let it go.

“Were you going to undress me or was I going to have to take off my own clothes? And how about you, Jessie? As part of the bargain would I at least get to watch you strip?” His gaze flicked to the top button on her blouse. “Or maybe you’d figured I’d get to take your clothes off. After all, I should get some enjoyment out of it, shouldn’t I?”

He moved one of his hands to the place where a pulse wildly beat in her throat. Then, with his finger, he circled the button he’d looked at. “Time is money, everything is money, isn’t it, Jessie?”

“Kurt, you’re being ridiculous,” she said breathlessly. For a moment, her gaze hypnotically rested on his hand.

“So maybe you were just going to be naked when I arrived so we could get on with the show.”

He unfastened the button and allowed the silk shirt to slip apart. Intention clear, he placed his fingertip in the opening. “Is this what you want? Tell me, Jess. You’ve supposedly thought everything through. Clue me in.”

The rush of their heartbeats roared over the fireplace.

“Kurt, don’t do this.”

“Stud service comes with expectations. Would you like a wham-bam-thank-you, ma’am, or shall we take it slower, a seduction, say? Where will we do it? In the bedroom? Or we can make it easy and just use the living room.”

He cut a purposeful glance over his shoulder. “Better yet, we could drop down and go for it right there on the couch. How ’bout it, Jessie? You want the top or do you prefer the bottom?”

Tears swam at the corners of her eyes. “This isn’t like you. You’re being crude.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Jessie? My sperm? Nothing else matters. Since you’ve worked out all the details of my payment, you’ll probably have a contract you want me to sign.

“Oh, and dates. I’ll expect a calendar with your most fertile days circled, that way we can schedule our sexual rendezvous. Or we could just go at it for an entire month. I wrap up most of my ranch work around dusk. I could come for dinner and stay as long as it took.”

Her outrageous proposal had struck at the heart of his principles. Men were meant to be lovers, providers, helpmates, spouses, protectors...fathers.

They weren’t supposed to be disposable, interchangeable donors.

To have her throw his ideals and beliefs in his face rankled. She saw him as a means to her ends. She’d stung his pride, oh yeah, but so much more. She’d taken everything he prided and defiled it.

Jessie still had a thing or two to learn about life.

Before he taught them to her, here and now, he moved his hand, curving it around her shoulder again. “What happens if you don’t get pregnant right away? Will you want to keep sleeping together? How long shall we give it? Two months? Three? Six?”

“You’ve misunderstood this whole thing.” A furious blush painted her cheeks. “We, er, wouldn’t need to actually, you know...”

Jessie’s voice trailed off as his brows drew together sharply.

“Go on.” If you dare.

Kurt wondered if Jessie realized how tenuous his hold on his temper truly was. The ends were fraying, threatening to unravel, or worse, snap completely.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t. Nor did he loosen his grip.

She averted her gaze.

“Look at me, Jessie. You’re asking me to get you pregnant. Face those realities, if nothing else.”

Her lips were parted slightly and he noticed the tip of her tongue. Pink and moist.

Jeez.

Why the hell was he noticing little things about her now? That was the last thing he wanted to do. She’d insulted him, trespassed on the grounds of their friendship, tried to buy his services.

He shouldn’t be noticing her as a desirable woman.

But he was noticing just that...the sight of her perfectly shaped lips, the softness of her skin, the feel of her in his arms, the fact that she smelled as fresh as a stroll through a rain-washed meadow.

Dark blond hair teased her face and shoulders. Absently he wondered how the strands would feel against his chest. Silky and sexy?

Unconsciously his hold tightened. Stifling a gasp, she dragged her lower lip between her teeth. Kurt forced his fingers to relax.

Never before in his life had he touched a woman in anger, not even when Belinda betrayed him. With a few, well-placed words, Jessie had changed all that, goading him into something he hadn’t known he was capable of.

She finally followed his instructions, looking up at him. Her wide eyes and luminous gaze asked for something unspoken. Understanding, compassion maybe. In that moment, he was capable of granting neither.

“There’s a clinic in Denver,” she said quietly.

When he didn’t respond, she cleared her throat. “I can get pregnant without...”

“Yes?” He barely managed the word.

“There’s this procedure that you can do in the doctor’s office... You could go one day and I can go there another...” Color suddenly swamped her face again, obliterating even the traces of her makeup. “I’m saying that we wouldn’t actually have to make love or anything.”

“Wouldn’t have to...” He trailed off and reality sliced through him, as if he’d plowed headlong into barbed wire. “You want me to do it in a cup?”

She put her hands in supplicate against his chest. “Kurt, wait, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Insulted barely began to define it. Blood thundered through him, demanding action. “You don’t want a man, a marriage, or even a relationship. You don’t want me. All you want is my donation? At a clinic? In a cup?”

She winced.

Fury threatened to devour everything and everyone in his path. “Let’s get this straight, Jessica Stephens, right here, right now. The answer’s no. Not just no, but hell, no.

“If I ever become a father, I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Skin to naked skin.

“There won’t be any contracts, or doctors, or agreements.” His voice dropped by a hostile octave. “If I ever have a baby, it will be the result of lovemaking, soft and sweet, hard and fast, but lovemaking, by every definition of the word.”

She paled.

“I’d be married, Jessie, and my wife would have my complete and total commitment. There would be no payment, except an emotional one. And that cost would be high. I’d demand everything she had to offer

“We’d take off each other’s clothes, and when my finger touched her here...” He illustrated, opening a second button on Jessie’s blouse.

She drew in her breath sharply and he continued, “Yeah, just like that, she’d react like that, and more. She’d reach for my belt buckle and we would tumble onto the bed together.”

His callused finger grazed the skin right above the clasp that joined her bra. Her eyes widened.

“I’d bring her to a climax, listen to her call out my name.” Rather than diminish, his anger continued to simmer. “Any baby of mine will be conceived when I’m buried deep inside my wife. There will be mutual love and passion, and it will create life.

“It’ll be more than just sex, and a hell of a lot more than what you want.”

Silence crackled.

“You asked the wrong man.”

With that, he released her and watched her shoulders slump. He hardened his heart against the tears clinging to her eyelashes.

“Kurt...” She swiped at the tears. “I understand what you’re saying.” Her words were rushed and unsure. “If the only way you’d agree is if we did it, you know, the old-fashioned way, then I guess we could.”

Just what he wanted. A martyr in his bed.

“You didn’t understand a word I said,” he snapped. Kurt grabbed at his self-control. He strode to the far side of the room, where the fire feasted on a log. “Forget it, Jessie.”

She lowered her head and hid her expression.

“If you thought I could do this, Jessie, you don’t know me.”

Humiliation flooded over her. “No.” Jessie mentally cursed her voice for cracking and betraying her inner emotions. “I guess I don’t.”

Her fingers shook as she refastened the buttons he’d opened. Her skin burned where he’d touched her, making the mortification complete. She could barely breathe, let alone speak. Words rough and scratchy, she fumbled over an apology.

Since he was on the other side of the room, Jessie seized the opportunity to flee, rushing from his study, then yanking open the front door and dragging it shut behind her.

The tears that had threatened to spill for the past fifteen minutes now curtained her eyes.

She’d always known no man would ever want her.

Sam, her ex-fiancé, had reinforced that knowledge, a hundred times.

How could she have been foolish enough to believe Kurt was any different? Even though they wouldn’t have actually had to sleep together, no man would willingly get her pregnant.

She ran toward her car, praying she could outdistance the pain of his rejection.

“Jessie! Wait!”

She didn’t.

As long as she lived, she’d never be able to face Kurt again. Even worse was the knowledge that she’d destroyed their friendship.

The first of the tears chased down her cheeks and the cold Colorado night air froze them to her skin. She struggled to slide the key into the ignition only to have the set slip from her grip and tumble to the floorboard.

Frustration drowning all other emotions, she slapped her hand against the steering wheel.

Nothing had gone right since she arrived at Kurt’s.

Stupid, stupid.

She shouldn’t have done this, should have just stuck with her original plan.

Wasting precious moments, she switched on the interior light to search for the keys. Just as Kurt reached for the car door, determination written on his rigid features, she managed to turn the ignition.

Blinking desperately to clear her blurry vision, she put the car in gear and floored the accelerator.

In the rearview mirror she saw Kurt, reflected by the porch light. Then he slammed his fist into his open palm as Jessie sped away. His brows were set in a scowl and his jaw hardened.

She barely slowed down before turning onto the gravel road leading back to town and home.

Ten minutes later, she rushed into the house, clicking the dead bolt securely into place before her shoulders collapsed against the door.

Kurt hadn’t followed her.

Even though she’d checked the mirror a dozen times, she hadn’t seen a single set of lights on the inky mountain road.

She was alone, just as she wanted.

A lump clogged Jessie’s throat, and she wondered if she would ever stop lying to herself.

She’d never wanted to be alone. Her entire life, she’d wanted to love and be loved. But not even her own mother cared enough to keep her. Nor had the series of foster parents. She’d spent night after night praying that someone would adopt her, keep her, make her feel as though she were part of a family instead of facing the world all alone.

And every night, she’d turned off the light, thinking that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, things would be different.

Jessie told herself that Kurt’s rejection didn’t surprise her, that she’d expected he’d refuse. So, why then, did she hurt so much?

Trying to bury the pain of tonight’s confrontation, she shoved away from the door. Her suitcase sat in the foyer, still packed. Now, more than ever, she wished she’d just left well enough alone and had never given in to the temptation of approaching Kurt.

Yet, every night since she made the appointment a few weeks ago, she’d dreamed of knowing the baby’s father instead of just receiving an anonymous donation.

As she trailed her fingertips across the suitcase’s zipper, she realized that every time in her life that she had dared to dream, she had been hurt.

It wouldn’t ever happen again, she vowed. She was done fantasizing. With his cold words, Kurt had reinforced the danger of believing.

This time, she vowed, she’d learned the lesson and learned it well. It was safer to stick to facts and reality. Maybe life would be less painful that way.

Soon, she would have the baby she’d always wanted, holding it, cuddling and snuggling. For the first time in her life, she would know and give unconditional love.

Protectively she placed her palm across her abdomen.

Nothing and no one would stand in her way.

With resolution, she squared her shoulders and crossed into the bedroom. But the instant she unfastened the top button of her shirt, memories flooded her.

It had been so long since she’d been touched. The feel of Kurt’s work-roughened skin against her smooth skin had sent shivers of something she didn’t dare name skating down her spine to settle near her womb.

For a moment, if she closed her eyes and imagined, she might believe that he’d actually wanted to touch her....

But he hadn’t.

He’d simply been trying to drive home his angry point. As she’d learned, wanting and being wanted were for other women.

Jessie finished undressing and pulled on a flannel nightdress. Last week, at the women’s clothing store in town, she’d passed satin and lace teddies on the way to the dressing room. She’d stopped, looking longingly at the material while wondering how it might feel against her skin.

Since it didn’t really matter anyway, she’d settled for flannel. No one would see her in lingerie. Besides, a long gown was warmer, especially when there was no one to share the bed with.

After combing her hair its customary one hundred strokes, she turned off the lights and slipped beneath cold blankets, curling into a ball, seeking protection from the rejection still searing her heart.

Seconds later, the insistent thud of a fist on her front door made her sit upright.

“Open up, Jessie!”

Kurt.

She dragged a pillow against her chest and hugged it tight. Maybe if she ignored him...

“I’ll get Sheriff McCall, say we’ve got an emergency.”

He wouldn’t.

“I will, Jessie. Try me.”

Her heart pounded.

“Neighbors just turned on their porch light.”

Jessie groaned. Maybe when she went to Denver in the morning, she wouldn’t come back.

“No, Mrs. Johnson, Jessie’s not answering. I’m starting to worry. Yes, her car’s here.”

Silence hung as cold as a newborn snow.

“Sure...thanks. I’ll wait here for the sheriff.”

“Wait!” Galvanized by the threat, Jessie tossed back the covers and pillow, then ran toward the front door. She’d never be able to show her face in Columbine Crossing again if anyone else witnessed her private torment. “Don’t you dare call Spencer,” she called, twisting the bolt.

Before she had a chance to open the door, Kurt did.

She gasped.

He stood there, wearing no jacket, his cheeks bitten by the frost. His breath clung frigidly to the night air, air that still felt more like winter than spring.

“Invite me in.”

“But the neighbors—”

“Are asleep. Invite me in, Jessie.”

There were no lights on across the street. There was only Kurt, all six feet of him, masculine determination written in the set of his jaw and shoulders.

Jessie had never felt more helpless. “You lied.”

“I accomplished my goal.” When she said nothing more, he added, “Fine. We’ll talk here.”

In the years she’d known him, she’d learned to tell when he was joking. He wasn’t. “Kurt...”

“Decision’s yours, Jessie. We’re going to talk. Now. We can do it inside or out here, where the neighbors might overhear. Unless you want what I have to say printed in Miss Starr’s column?”

The threat chilled as much as the weather. For protection against both, she dragged the neckline of her nightie tighter around her throat. The subzero wind nipped at her toes and ankles. But even that didn’t freeze as much as the ice in Kurt’s green eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll play it your way. First of all—”

“Stop!” Her insides reeled and she felt as though the world had started spinning backward. “You can come in.” The invitation contained only the barest hint of civility.

He didn’t hesitate.

With the door closed and both of them standing in the tiny foyer, she suddenly felt very small, very feminine. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her earlier, and sanity demanded that she get him out of here immediately. “Go ahead, Kurt. Say what you need to so you can leave.”

“I’m wondering,” he said, taking a step toward her, filling her senses and indicating her suitcase with his thumb. “Where the hell you think you’re going.”

The question was delivered quietly, but whipped by the lash of anger.

Jessie took another step away from him, then stopped. She reminded herself he was her best friend’s brother, nothing more. She was a grown woman and answered only to herself.

Straightening her spine, she pretended an indifference she didn’t feel. “It’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business.”

She shook her head, her hair falling forward to frame her face and allowing her to hide. “Look, Kurt, I presented you with a business arrangement, but you didn’t like the terms. End of discussion.”

“It would be, if you weren’t planning a trip.”

Frustration began as a small knot in her stomach. “It’s late, and I have to get up early.”

“So you can go to Denver.”

“Yes.”

“And get inseminated.”

The knot became tighter. She hated the emphasis he put on the words, as though she was doing something repulsive. Tipping back her head, she gave him a falsely sweet smile. “Good night, Kurt.”

He turned and she experienced a flash of triumph.

Then he clicked the dead bolt into place with a threatening thud.

Her heart momentarily stopped. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you from doing something you’ll regret.”