The Perfect Father. Elizabeth BevarlyЧитать онлайн книгу.
you. That’s not true of the men I’ve known.”
Chase nodded thoughtfully, thinking her description of men fit perfectly what he’d always considered true of women. Interesting that they should share such identical philosophies about the opposite sex.
“Give me some time, Sylvie, okay?” he asked. “What you’re suggesting is a little unorthodox, to say the least.”
“I need to know within two weeks,” she reminded him.
“Why the rush?”
“I want a baby for Christmas,” she said, grinning.
She could see that there was still something troubling Chase, still something he didn’t quite understand about her grand plan. “What is it?” she asked him.
“There’s one thing we haven’t discussed,” he said, confirming her suspicion.
“And that is?”
He lifted a hand to brush her bangs back from her forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that she hadn’t expected at all. His fingers were warm against her skin, his eyes revealing how unexpectedly the action had come to him, too.
His voice was soft when he said, “Where precisely will I fit in to the picture after my initial assignment is completed?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her own voice sounding thinner than usual.
“After...after I make love to you, Sylvie...” He swallowed hard before he continued. “After you become pregnant, then what happens between me and you?”
“I guess we just go back to the way things were before.”
“And do you honestly think we’ll be able to do that?”
She sighed and stood straight, meeting his gaze as levelly as she could. “I don’t know. I...I guess so. I mean, we probably can. You don’t seem to want a woman in your life any more than I want a man in mine.”
“That’s true....”
“Which is all the more reason why this would be such a perfect arrangement. We’ve known each other for two years now and never put obligations on each other. There’s no reason to think that has to change just because we happened to...to...make love...one time. Lots of people have brief sexual encounters and still remain friends.” At least, Sylvie thought they did. It happened on television and in the movies all the time. Didn’t it?
“That’s true, too, but...”
Before Sylvie realized what was happening, Chase leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, his lips cool and confident at the initial contact. At first Sylvie was too startled to react, but when he tangled his fingers in the hair at her nape and pulled her more fully into the kiss, she couldn’t help but respond. He was a good kisser, she decided immediately as she threaded her fingers through his hair, still not feeling as if they were close enough. Quite thorough at what he set out to do...
He pulled her away from the car door and more completely into his arms, plying her lips with his almost as if he were trying to devour her. He circled his other arm around her waist and splayed his hand open over the small of her back, urging her forward until she could almost feel the heat of him seeping through her clothes. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed locked in their embrace, but one thing was certain—Sylvie never wanted it to end.
But it did end, as abruptly as it had begun. Chase pulled away and gazed at her, clearly confused, his ragged breathing mingling with hers to become a thin silver fog between them.
“I need a few days to think about it,” he told her as he reluctantly released her. He set her away from him and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth before adding, “And I think you need a few days to think about it, too.” And with that he turned and walked away, without another word, and without a backward glance.
Sylvie watched him go, trying to understand the tumultuous emotions rocking her. Until a few moments ago she had been in complete control of the situation. She had planned every aspect down to the last detail and knew exactly how everything would turn out. Then Chase had kissed her, and her plans had dissolved, like the steam rising into the air with every uneven breath she took.
She had been so sure of herself before, she thought. But now she had no idea what she was supposed to do.
Three
Nearly one week after Sylvie Venner had asked him to act as her stud, Chase sat in his office actually mulling over the possibilities. He’d been able to think about little else in the past six days, after all. In fact, so focused had his thoughts been on the blond bartender that he’d scarcely given a single serious consideration to his business obligations, something that was in no way like him. He had deliberately avoided Cosmo’s since that fateful conversation, uncertain how he would react the next time he saw Sylvie. And, to be honest, as surprised as he was to realize it, he sincerely didn’t know what his answer to her should be when he did encounter her again.
A substantial segment of his psyche recoiled at the thought of being little more to a woman than the means to an end. The knowledge that there was only one part of him that Sylvie wanted, and only temporarily—and quite an intimate part at that—was startling, to say the least. There were moral and ethical considerations to ponder, as well. What was the world coming to, after all, when a woman sat across from a man she didn’t know especially well and asked him to make love to her for the sole purpose of producing a child in whose life he would thereafter play no part? There was no question that he should decline her request, no question at all.
However...
Another part of Chase was more than a little intrigued by the idea. Hadn’t he been sitting at the bar at Cosmo’s that very night less than a week ago, wishing there was some way he could share a brief sexual encounter with a woman about whom he cared somewhat, then call the relationship quits with no harm done, no feelings hurt? And didn’t what Sylvie had requested of him provide just the perfect opportunity for exactly that?
And deep down inside, he had to admit that there was something...oh, arousing...about the prospect of producing a child with Sylvie. A son, he thought, never questioning for a moment his conviction that the child he helped produce would be of the masculine persuasion. A strapping young boy rushing headlong into the world, whom he had been partly responsible for creating, but was in no way responsible for raising. Despite his belief that children were more trouble than they were worth, the possibility of creating one was understandably alluring for any man.
Of course, the child he and Sylvie produced would be a child with whom he would have no other contact, he mused further. He wasn’t altogether certain he liked that idea. Then again, there were thousands of men out there who anonymously fathered children through donations to sperm banks without a second thought about it. On the other hand, Chase Buchanan wasn’t one of them.
He rose from his chair, paced to the windows on the other side of the room and stared down at the busy street below. Why had Sylvie chosen him? he wondered for perhaps the hundredth time since hearing her suggestion. And why couldn’t he just tell her he wanted no part of her plan, the way he knew he should, and be done with it once and for all?
Because deep down inside he couldn’t quite rid himself of a sudden, shuddering desire to make love to Sylvie Venner. And not just because she wanted a child, he realized. And, he admitted further reluctantly, maybe not just because he felt a little lonely sometimes, either.
His mind still addled by all the implications of the situation before him, Chase straightened his tie, reached for his jacket and coat and, for the first time in his entire life, left work early.
* * *
Sylvie was baby-sitting her nephew, as she did every Monday in her downtown Philadelphia apartment, and had just finished feeding and cleaning up Simon after his nap when she heard the quick series of raps at her front door. She lifted the baby into her arms, adjusting his bright red playsuit and tugging at the yellow