The Baby Proposal

“What I’m proposing is that we try to get you pregnant as quickly as possible.”

“And if I don’t conceive?” Andrea challenged. Gabe’s cold-blooded approach to something this sacred angered her.

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

He was too shrewd an entrepreneur not to leave himself a loophole. Oh, Gabe—you’re so transparent. He might just as well have pushed her off a cliff. A heart could only take so much….

What happens when you suddenly discover your happy twosome is about to be turned into a…family?

Do you panic?

Do you laugh?

Do you cry?

Or…do you get married?

The answer is all of the above—and plenty more!

Share the laughter and the tears as these unsuspecting couples are plunged into parenthood! Whether it’s a baby on the way or the creation of a brand-new instant family, these men and women have no choice but to be

When parenthood takes you by surprise!

Look out for more books in this miniseries—coming soon in Harlequin Romance^®!

The Baby Proposal
Rebecca Winters

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

“OY GEVEH!” Saul Karsh muttered before lighting the end of his cigar, the kind for which the Club Macanudo on the upper east side of Manhattan was famous. “You’re mishega!”

“Actually, I’ve never been more sane,” Gabe Corbin countered. He should have sold his company two years earlier. “Aside from Sam Poon who’s already acting CEO, you’re the first person I’ve told in case you want to buy me out. That gives you five days before I approach anyone else.”

“What’s the hurry? You’re only thirty-six!”

“In my case that’s already too old.”

When Saul could see that Gabe wasn’t about to enlighten him, he took a few more puffs on his cigar before he spoke. “If you’re selling a billion-dollar company that’s been operating in the black for years and is growing every day, then your reason must be personal.” A hint of alarm entered his eyes. “You’re not dying are you?”

“Of a disease? No.” Gabe finished off the rest of his drink. “Send your people around tomorrow if you want to see the books. Phil Rosen’s my chief accountant. He’ll show you everything.

“Try to make a decision before Monday. By then I’ll be gone and you’ll be dealing with Sam.”

Saul, the CEO of Karsh Technologies Inc., dealt in twenty-first century computers used for medical research and the Space program. The acquisition of Corbin’s Business PC’s would give him another playing field altogether, one he’d wanted for quite a while if Gabe’s source was right.

Saul was tough and aggressive, but Gabe knew of his reputation for fair business ethics. Of the five American entrepreneurs in the country who could buy Gabe out, he trusted Saul to be good to the employees and keep the company going in the right direction.

They stared at each other. Finally Saul muttered, “Stan Abrams and his team will be there at nine to take a look.”

Those were the words Gabe had been waiting to hear. “Excellent.” He put two twenty-dollar bills on the table and stood up. “It’s nice seeing you again, Saul.” He shook the older man’s hand. “I hope we’ll be doing business together.”

“Gabe? I have a son who isn’t much younger than you. If he were contemplating anything this enormous, I’d be worried. Are you absolutely positive you know what you’re doing?”

The man’s concern went a long way to prove to Gabe that Saul had been the right man to approach. “I know what I’m doing.”

He left a bemused Saul sitting there puffing on his cigar. After exiting the bar, he climbed into the waiting limo.

“Benny? Take me back to the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Now that Gabe had a probable buyer, there was work to be done. He rang Phil and Sam on his cell phone and asked them to come back to the office as soon as they’d finished dinner. In all probability they’d be working until midnight.

The process of divesting himself of the international business Gabe had built over the last fourteen years was a complicated one. But with Saul’s people coming in the morning, Gabe could see light at the end of the tunnel, thank God.

As Gabe stood in the lobby waiting for an elevator to take him to the floor of his office, Bret Weyland, his North American sales manager, emerged from another one. For once Andrea Bauer wasn’t with him. That was a surprise considering Bret had intimated he and Gabe’s attractive chief software engineer, had been living together for the last three or four months.

Gabe could rarely find Andrea alone because Bret was always right there exhibiting a proprietorial interest in her that bordered on the possessive. It was a miracle Bret got any work done, or Andrea for that matter. But amazingly enough they did. Gabe had no room to complain.

He nodded to Bret. “Where’s your other half tonight?”

“Cooking dinner at our apartment.”

A vision of the two of them together behind closed doors doing anything and everything besides eating food disturbed him a great deal more than it should have. He wasn’t walking away from his company any too soon.

“Lucky you.” Gabe stepped on the elevator.

Bret flashed him a quick smile. “You’re right about that,” he said as the doors closed.

It was a good thing their conversation had been cut short. Gabe had come within a hair’s breadth of wiping that smug expression off the younger man’s face.

At 9:30 a.m. Andrea hurried through the office to her boss’s suite. His secretary looked up when she saw her. “Hi, Andrea. What can I do for you?”

“Is Mr. Corbin here?”

“Yes. He was already in when I arrived.”

“Good. I need to talk to him right away.”

“Just a minute and I’ll see if he’s free now.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

After the appointment with her gynecologist yesterday afternoon, Andrea knew what she had to do. There was no sense putting off the inevitable any longer.

“He says to go right in.”

“Thanks, Karen.”

She rushed into his private office. “Please forgive me for barging in like this when I know how full your schedule is.”

His penetrating gaze swept over her. “Since when did you ever need to apologize for talking to me? You look upset, Andrea. Sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

He talked to her in such a confiding tone, she did his bidding. “I saw my doctor yesterday and it looks like my endometriosis is coming back so I—”

“What did you say you have?”

“Endometriosis.” Andrea disliked revealing something so personal about herself, but there was no way to avoid it now “It’s a disease that seems to be the plague of the modern woman. Something to do with stress.”

Her boss sat forward in his swivel chair eyeing her soberly. “Is this the reason you’ve had to take three personal leaves since coming to work for me?”

He’d been keeping track? How embarrassing! Yet he was being so kind, she found herself blurting the details.

“Yes. I’ve had six laparoscopies to be exact, the first one when I was in high school and the second in college. The third happened after I’d gone to work for Stover Electronics. That was before I interviewed for the position with your company.”

She wouldn’t have wished the emotional and physical pain of her disease on her worst enemy.

“I’m sorry, Andrea. I had no idea.” His intelligent eyes shone with compassion. “What’s the cure?”

“A hysterectomy. I’ve decided to have one as soon as possible. That’s why I’m here. To arrange for the time off.”

“You’re only twenty-eight!” he exclaimed without addressing the main issue. “That’s too young.” He sounded as if he truly cared and Andrea found herself struggling not to break down in tears.

“Not in my condition. It happens to women during the childbearing years. I’ve been battling it since I was seventeen, but enough’s enough. The doctor says I should plan on a six-week recovery period before coming back to work. I realize that’s a long time to be gone, but I know Darrell won’t let you down. He’s a wizard.”

Her boss grimaced. “There’s nothing else to be done before you’re robbed of the chance to ever carry a child?”

“Yes,” she murmured reluctantly. “Get pregnant right away before it grows back again worse than before, but that isn’t a possibility.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

She had to admit it shocked her he kept firing questions of such a personal nature when all she was asking for was the time off to undergo the surgery.

Six months ago Andrea’s degree in computer engineering, plus her work record at Stover’s, had landed her a job at Corbin PC’s. In the last four months she’d been serving as chief engineer of software which meant working part of every day with Gabe.

Even so, theirs had remained a professional relationship in the sense that he never pried into her personal life, and she knew next to nothing about his.

But she shouldn’t have forgotten the driving force of his personality, or his native curiosity about life. Both traits had propelled him to heights even those in the world of high finance marveled over.

“This must be so difficult for you. Can you have children?” He prodded.

She shuddered.

Infertile. The dreaded word.

Being unable to conceive was another fear of hers. Maybe something was so wrong with her female reproductive system, her eggs weren’t good. Unfortunately she would never have a chance to find out now.

“I have no idea,” she answered at last. “I’ve never been married.”

“But that hasn’t precluded you from living with a man. I understand you and Bret have been liv—”

“The office gossip is wrong!” She cut him off.

What a fool she’d been to date Bret Weyland in the first place. As head of Corbin’s North American sales, he spent a lot of time working with Gabe, too. That was the only reason she’d gone out with him, to prove to herself Gabe didn’t mean anything to her. Unfortunately everything had backfired and she’d hurt Bret in the process.

“That’s odd,” Gabe’s deep voice came back. “Bret intimated just the opposite when we saw each other in the lobby last night.”

Andrea let out an angry gasp. “Then he lied. I broke up with him over a month ago!”

“He’s one of my top people. Why would he fabricate something like that?” her boss persisted.

She tossed her head back, causing her honey-blond hair to brush her shoulders. “Why does anyone when they’re in pain? Look—if you must know, I’ve never slept with a man, let alone lived with one.”

His pewter-gray eyes narrowed in disbelief. The lashes fringing them were as black as his curly hair. With such a proud nose, and jaws that needed shaving often, there had to be a generous portion of Southern European blood flowing through his veins.

“I don’t know why that’s such a surprise,” she remarked when he didn’t say anything. “There are lots of women who want a wedding ring on their finger first. However the joke’s on me. I saved myself for marriage to my own detriment.”

She heard the slight tremor in her voice and shot to her feet, mortified he might have detected it. Now was the time to say what needed to be said and get out of there before she broke down sobbing.

“My doctor has an opening in his surgery schedule next week. I’ll work with Darrell today and tomorrow so he’s prepared to take over. In six weeks you’ll find he’s the perfect person to replace me.”

Gabe’s laserlike gaze might as well have pinned her to a wall. “What’s this all about, Andrea?”

It’s about you.

“I once told you that my parents run a gift shop in Scarsdale. They’ve always wanted me to work in the family business. I told them I would when the time was right. Now that they’re getting older and tire more easily, I can see that day has come.”

“Like hell it has,” he bit out with uncharacteristic violence though he never raised his voice. “You came in here asking for sick leave and ended up telling me you’re going to quit. I’ll fire Bret before I let that happen.”

“No—you mustn’t do that!” Her blue eyes implored him. “The truth is, I turned him down when he asked me to move in with him. I’m not in love with him. He’s only been trying to save face in front of you and everyone else.”

A strange look realigned the expression of Gabe’s striking features, one she couldn’t read. He sat back in the chair, eyeing her with disturbing scrutiny. “I didn’t realize.”

“You can’t hold that against him.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you,” she whispered in relief.

“You’re welcome. I have to say your concern for him is admirable. Too bad more people don’t have your decency.”

Her head lowered. “Don’t make me out to be a saint. I should have known better than to get involved with a colleague. It’s a plan for disaster.”

Andrea was so in love with Gabe, she hadn’t been aware of Bret’s deepest feelings. Not until a lot of damage had been done. But no other man could compete with the one seated in front of her. His brilliant intellect and sheer male appeal made it impossible for her to see anyone else.

Though she’d been vehement in her denial, Bret had figured out she was in love with her boss and had accused her of it. Still, she had no idea his jealousy had driven him to tell Gabe something that wasn’t true.

The whole situation had become untenable.

She took a calming breath and said, “Since I’ll be recuperating at my parents’ home, it will be the perfect time for me to resign. Darrell can consult with me over the phone during my recovery period. Your company won’t feel a ripple.”

“Have you considered your other option?”

His question tried her patience. “If you’re talking in vitro fertilization from an unknown sperm donor, that holds no appeal whatsoever. I want the father around to help me raise our baby. A child deserves both parents.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. “If having the surgery right away is what you really want, I can’t stop you of course.”

The doctor had given her six months at the most, then she would have to undergo the surgery. But by then she would be in unbearable physical pain. The decision whether to do it sooner than later was an excruciating one. However if she had the operation now, she would be in better shape to go into the hospital and handle the impending ordeal.

Still, Andrea was devastated her boss didn’t put up more of a fight to keep her with the company longer. “I—I’m glad you understand.”

“Are you free of pain right now?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll fly to Paris this morning instead of next week as previously scheduled. I’d like Emile and his team to work with my expert software engineer before you’re no longer available,” he explained while she wrestled with her tortured thoughts.

Paris? Maybe that plan had been written in on Gabe’s calendar, but this was the first Andrea had heard of it.

Since her promotion she’d been to Rio and Singapore on business with him, but never to Europe, the place she’d always wanted to go for a honeymoon. It was another pipe dream, just like the one where she gave birth to Gabe’s child.

“We’ll be staying through the weekend,” he added. “How soon can you be ready to leave for the airport?”

Her last trip with him… She couldn’t bear to think about it.

“I’ll need a half hour to pack.” Today was Thursday, which meant she would require four days worth of outfits. Knowing how Gabe operated, he would keep the team working through to Sunday afternoon when it was time to fly home.

“Benny will drive you to your apartment and wait for you. I’ll see you at the plane. Don’t forget your passport.” He picked up the receiver and told his driver to meet her in front of the building.

Andrea left his office feeling like someone who’d been knocked unconscious and was starting to come to, yet everything remained fuzzy. She hurried past his private secretary Karen to her own office for her briefcase.

Corbin PC’s corporate headquarters took up the twenty-ninth and thirtieth floors of the Saxbee building in downtown Manhattan. While she waited for an elevator to take her to the lobby, she said hi to a couple of the girls who’d just reported for work.

After a few minutes another elevator arrived going down. When the doors opened, Bret emerged in shirt-sleeves, carrying a file. The sales office was on the floor above.

“Andrea—”

“Hello, Bret.” She entered the elevator, hoping he wouldn’t join her. Thankfully he only stood there staring at her with wounded eyes until the doors closed.

That image of him stayed with her all the way out of the building to the waiting limo. It convinced her she was doing the right thing for herself and Bret by resigning. Gabe would never be able to replace him with anyone who could do a better job.

As for Andrea, her operation and recovery would take her out of Gabe’s orbit for good. It was something that needed to happen for her own preservation, but his memory would haunt her forever.

Seven hours later a limo from Gabe’s Parisian based company whisked them from De Gaulle airport to a suburb called Champigny. Soon Andrea found herself being escorted off the little rope and pully-operated raft on the swirling waters of the Marne River. Gabe explained they were staying on an island.

Somehow she’d assumed he would take her to a world-famous hotel like the Ritz, a favorite place for sheiks and millionaires. To her surprise and secret delight, he’d brought her to an isolated section of old-world charm.

The ambience, a combination of leafy trees and lush June foliage lining the riverbanks where there were a few fishermen in their berets, had transported her to another world so far removed from New York she could scarcely take it in.

The scene before her reminded her of a certain Renoir painting she loved. It depicted a group of local field hands in work clothes, gathered around a table enjoying a bottle of wine at the end of a long day. The concierge of the Vieux Pecheur Hotel could have been one of them.

He smiled when they entered the quaint little foyer. Andrea didn’t think the two-story building contained more than half a dozen rooms for guests.

“Bonsoir, Madame, Monsieur.”

“Bonsoir.” Gabe set their suitcases on the floor. “Je m’appelle Gabriel Corbin. Vous m’avez reservé deux chambres, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oui oui. Remplissez l’affiche, s’il vous plaît.”

Andrea blinked as Gabe started to register. She didn’t know he could speak fluent French. He sounded like a native. If his parents were French, that would explain his dark, attractive features.

As soon as keys exchanged hands, Gabe picked up their cases and they climbed the tiny circular staircase to the next floor. He stopped at the first door on the left and opened it.

Andrea let out a soft gasp of delight.

Inside were two twin beds with green coverlets, a nineteenth-century armoire and dresser, plus a window that looked out on the quiet street. Checked gingham curtains in green and white adorned the frame. With a tiny fleur-de-lis print wallpaper on the walls and ceiling, the room was perfectly charming.

No phone. No TV.

This was the real France. A slice of life. That’s what her college art teacher would have said about this incredible place.

“I adore it!”

“I thought you might,” he drawled. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Everyone has to share.” When she looked around at him, his lips were twitching. He was such a handsome man, her body quickened.

“My room’s the next one on the right. I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes and we’ll take a walk before dinner. I need to stretch my legs and imagine you do, too.”

“Will Emile and the others be joining us later?”

“Not tonight.” So saying, he left her to her own devices and shut the door.

That seemed odd, but maybe he was too tired to deal with employees and be social. As for Andrea, she was so excited to be in Paris, she was glad to put off work until tomorrow.

The first thing she did was run to the window and stick her head out to survey her kingdom above the foyer. The late afternoon light was fading into evening. As far as she could tell, of the few people who were passing by, none of them were tourists.

An older teen drew up on a bike with a few baguettes in the basket. He whistled before calling out something to her in his native tongue. Andrea couldn’t help smiling before she turned from the window and headed for the bathroom where she could freshen up.

The old-fashioned lock didn’t look like it could keep anyone out, but she honestly didn’t care. This was the kind of adventure you dreamed about, but rarely experienced.

She examined her cream linen skirt which was somewhat wrinkled after their flight. Luckily the mango-colored cotton top never creased.

After rummaging in her purse, she combed her hair and applied some coral lipstick. Thank goodness she’d chosen to wear her comfortable Italian leather sandals. She’d be able to walk around without problem.

Andrea had just reached the foyer when a male voice in a heavy French accent said, “I was hoping the beautiful American woman would come down soon.”

The guy she’d seen moments ago had put his bike behind the front desk. Up close he looked like he might be twenty, twenty-one. His Gallic features resembled the male concierge who’d checked them in earlier.

There was no sign of Gabe.

“I’ll have to tell my girlfriends to stay here when they come to Paris if they want some fun,” she teased.

He grinned. “You’re not sleeping in the same room with your friend. That means you might go out with me tonight? I could show you a very good time. My name is Pierre.”

She chuckled. “That’s a tempting offer, Pierre, but I’m here on business.”

His hooded eyes dwelt on her face. “You work for him, or does he work for you?”

Pierre would be shocked if he knew who Gabe was.

“He’s my boss.”

“What is wrong with him?”

“Excuse me?”

“He brings you to Paris and doesn’t share your bed? That I cannot understand.”

“No one asked you to,” a low, chilling voice broke in on them. Gabe had descended the staircase without her being aware of it. He’d changed into a black silk shirt and gray trousers.

She’d never seen him dressed in anything but a suit. The transformation brought out a potent masculinity that took her breath. But his chiseled features revealed an aggression directed at the younger man.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” Andrea whispered. “Let’s go.”

She could feel the rigidity of his body before he put his hand on the back of her waist and ushered her out of the hotel. The heat of his touch seemed to burn through her top.

When they’d walked past the adjoining patisserie he said, “I’m sorry you were subjected to that. I won’t leave you alone again.”

Andrea turned to him. “I’ve met boys like him before.”

Gabe’s jaw hardened. “He’s no boy, Andrea, and he’s on the make for any willing female.”

“So are a lot of guys his age.”

His eyes studied her features. “I suppose after the way you defended Bret, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” She smiled as she said it. “I’m sure he feeds the same line to all women young or old who stay at the hotel. An extenuation of his job. Keep the customers happy.”

One dark eyebrow quirked. “Did it make you happy?”

“Well—yes, in a way. It’s a fun memory to take home with me.”

After a long silence he said, “I’ll have to remember that.”

His dark mood had passed.

For half an hour they made desultory conversation while they walked beneath the cathedral of trees. The soft, warm summer air played havoc with her senses and seemed to be affecting him, too. Andrea took care not to brush against him. The slightest contact of his leg or arm sent a live current of electricity through her body.

She should have been relieved when Gabe broke the spell by stopping to speak to one of the fishermen around a bend in the river. The older man didn’t seem to be having any luck, but whatever her boss said brought a light to his eye.

From his tackle basket he drew out another type of lure and put it on the end of his line. Then he began casting. Before long he had a fight on his hands. After he’d reeled in a nice-size fish, he grinned and patted Gabe on the shoulder.

“What kind is it?”

“Carp.”

“I’ve never tasted it.”

“Smoked carp is out of this world.”

“You’re full of surprises,” Andrea said as they started to circle back. “Were you born here in France to know what kind of bait would catch it?”

He darted her a curious glance. “No, I’m a native of St. Pierre et Miquelon.”

She frowned. “Is that in Belgium or Switzerland?”

“Neither. It’s a French territorial collectivity off the coast of Newfoundland.”

The mention of the Canadian province rang a bell.

“That’s right!” She stopped walking. “I remember my junior high geography teacher telling us about some islands being the only French possessions remaining in North America. A big fishing industry. As I recall, she said Al Capone used to hide out there during prohibition.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You have a keen memory and know more about it than ninety-nine percent of the world. I’m impressed.”

“I’m flabbergasted. I’ve never met anyone who came from there. Your English is so perfect, I had no idea.”

“My mother’s an American. I hold dual citizenship.”

“Is your family still there?” She wanted to know anything and everything about him.

A shadow entered his eyes, but it was fleeting. “Yes.”

“So how come you left?”

“I had a yen to explore the world.”

“And look what happened!” she blurted with a smile. “But your fishing roots still have a hold on you.”

He nodded. “I serve on the French Fisheries Board. As a result, I’m aware of problems on the Marne after last year’s champagne harvest.”

Andrea was totally intrigued. “What happened?”

They began walking again.

“The heavy September rains washed pomace and excess grapes into the river. There’s been a massive cleanup effort to get rid of the dead fish lining the banks. I’m glad to see the old man was able to catch something.”

So his chat with the fisherman was no idle conversation.

“What’s your specific job on this board?” By now she had so many questions to ask, she couldn’t fire them off fast enough.

“To help settle maritime boundary disputes between France and Canada’s fishing territories.”

Good heavens. That would be a full-time job in and of itself. Only a man of his extraordinary abilities could take that on and run a billion-dollar corporation in the process.

“Is your island’s fishing industry in trouble?”

He stared hard at her. “If you really want to know, I’ll answer your questions while we eat dinner.”

As if he did it every day, he slid his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward an adorable sidewalk café a few doors up from the hotel. It was the kind of place just for lovers, with bistro chairs and small round tables covered in red and white checked cloths.

A few couples were dancing to an old French love song played by a roving accordionist. As soon as Gabe seated her, a waiter appeared with two glasses of white wine. Another waiter brought some freshly baked bread still warm from the oven.

“They only serve one entrée here so there’s no menu,” Gabe explained when they were alone. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted their fried moules.”

Andrea decided she hadn’t lived until she’d entered this land of enchantment with Gabe. She feared she was in the middle of a fantastic dream and was going to wake up at any second.