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The Marriage Agenda: The Marriage Conspiracy / The Billionaire's Baby Plan. Allison LeighЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Marriage Agenda: The Marriage Conspiracy / The Billionaire's Baby Plan - Allison  Leigh


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quick shift in subject surprised her. For a few minutes there, with all this shocking news Dekker was laying on her, she’d actually forgotten Bobby’s father and the threat he presented to Sam. “Wait a minute. What does your being Jonas Bravo’s brother have to do with Robert Atwood?”

      “Remember earlier I told you that money would be no problem?”

      “Oh, Dekker, don’t start with that again. I appreciate your offerin’ to help out that way. It means so much that you would, but I told you, I cannot allow you to—”

      “Jo, I’m a rich man now.”

      Her mouth was open, since he’d cut her off in the middle of a sentence. She shut it, then opened it again to say, “Huh?”

      “The Bravos never gave up on the idea that I might be alive somewhere. Arrangements were made for me, a huge trust set aside, just in case I might someday show up again.”

      His words made her head spin. “Arrangements…a huge trust?”

      “Right. What I’m trying to say is, I have millions, Joleen.”

      There was that word again. Millions. Millions in diamonds. And also… “Millions of dollars?”

      “What else?”

      “Well, I don’t know. I can’t…Dekker, are you serious? You are a millionaire?”

      “I am serious, Jo. I am a millionaire.” He was grinning again.

      “Well. I can’t…I don’t…”

      He chuckled. “You are sputtering.”

      “It’s just…so much to take in all at once. Oh, what a crazy day it has been.”

      “It’s not over yet.”

      She peered at him suspiciously. “There’s more?”

      “You bet. There’s my solution to your problem.”

      That made her smile. “I knew it.”

      “Knew what?”

      “That you had come up with a way to get me out of this mess.”

      “And I have. It came to me a few hours ago, while we were dancing. Like a bolt right out of the blue. You’re going to think it’s insane at first. But give me a chance, let me convince you.”

      “Dekker. What? Convince me of what?”

      “I want you to marry me, Jo.”

      Chapter 5

      Joleen discovered that she understood the true meaning of the words, struck speechless.

      Dekker chuckled again.

      And Joleen found she could talk, after all. “It’s a joke, right? You are makin’ a joke.”

      “It’s no joke, Jo.”

      “Well, but you are grinnin’. And what was that sound I just heard coming out of your mouth? If that wasn’t a laugh, I will eat that bouquet my sister made me catch tonight.”

      “Sorry.” He took pains to arrange his expression into more serious lines. “I couldn’t help it. You should have seen the look on your face. Like that time when you were…oh, about eight, I think. And that kid from up the block poured crushed ice down your pants.”

      Joleen was thinking that sometimes she wished she hadn’t known Dekker all her life. He remembered too many things she would just as soon forget.

      He asked, “What was that kid’s name?”

      “Foster Stutterheim. I hated him.”

      “I think he had a thing for you.”

      “Well, and didn’t he have a fine way of showing it?”

      “He got your attention. You have to admit that.”

      “That’s right, he did. I never spoke to him again.”

      “You were always way too hard on your admirers.”

      She thought of her one big mistake. “Not always.”

      Dekker’s eyes gleamed at her. “Well, okay. There was Bobby Atwood.”

      “And I was not hard on him, and look where it got me.”

      He made a low noise in his throat. “Don’t.”

      “What?”

      “Don’t start beating yourself up again.”

      “I won’t.”

      “Good. We’re dealing in solutions here.”

      “Right—and I still don’t believe what you said a minute ago. Maybe you didn’t say it. Maybe I just imagined it.”

      “I said it. And I want you to consider it.”

      “But Dekker, why? I mean, what good would our getting married do?”

      “A lot. Remember, this is about appearances. About how things look. And it always looks better if a woman is not raising her child on her own. It looks better if she’s married—and don’t start making faces. I didn’t say it was fair. I didn’t say it was right. I didn’t even say it was true that a married woman will necessarily be a better parent than an unmarried one. I’m just saying that people—and judges are people—tend to think of a two-parent home as the best thing for a kid.”

      “Well, I understand that, but—”

      “Wait. I said I wanted a chance to convince you, remember?”

      She nodded.

      “Then will you let me finish doing that?”

      “Sorry.”

      He continued, “I’m a rich man now. And if we’re married, you’re not going to be giving me any of that ‘I can’t take your money’ talk. My money will be your money. One of Robert Atwood’s arguments will be that he can provide for his grandson better than you can. If you’re married to me, that argument is shot down.”

      “But, Dekker—”

      He stopped her with a look. “I also want you to consider what’s been bothering you the most. Which is how you’re going to afford both good child care and the legal battle that’s coming up. If you marry me, the cost of all that will be no problem. You can hire the best damn lawyers, and you’ll be able to pay for top quality child care. Hell, if you want to stop working altogether, be there full-time for Sam, you could do that, too.”

      “Oh, I don’t think so. You know me. I like to work.”

      “Does that mean I’ve convinced you?”

      She wasn’t ready to admit that yet. “I only said I like to work.”

      “So fine. Work. And put Sam in the best day care center in the city.”

      She had to admit that his arguments made sense.

      But there were a few issues he hadn’t covered—awkward, uncomfortable issues. Issues she felt a little bit embarrassed to bring up, even with her very best friend.

      But still, they were issues that needed discussing before they did anything so wild and strange as to marry each other in order to keep Robert Atwood from taking her child.

      “Say it,” he said after a few very long minutes in which neither of them had made a sound. “Whatever it is, we can’t deal with it if you won’t get it out there.”

      She scrunched up her nose at him. “Well, I know that.”

      “Okay, then. Talk.”

      “It’s just…”

      “What?”

      She


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