Expecting His Child: The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition. Tessa RadleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
leather seat. She had to focus on the here and now, not dwell on the past. It was how she survived, how she’d always survived.
“So why do you want a baby?” Matt asked.
A million reasons that she didn’t have the time or inclination to discuss because that would mean talking about her past and her emotions. And those two things were off-limits. Instead, she settled on the most urgent one. “Because there’s a possibility I can’t. Three months ago I had surgery for ovarian cysts and they found extensive scarring. Apparently, I have a less than a thirty percent chance of conceiving.”
His brief glance spoke volumes yet revealed nothing. “Why me?”
She turned, giving him her full attention. “Why not you? We know each other, and we’re sexually compatible. I won’t make any emotional or financial demands. You not only get no-strings-attached sex, but you also won’t have the hassle of a baby. Life will go on as normal.” She shrugged. “We both win.”
What the hell could Matt say to that?
She wanted him to make a baby. Only she didn’t want him around afterward. The situation was laughable except he’d never felt like laughing less in his entire life.
He made a quick left turn and they pulled into a side street. After he cranked on the handbrake and cut the engine, he turned to face her.
“Well?” she said, arching her eyebrows. She looked confident, her hands clasped in her lap, her head tilted just so, a firm, almost fierce look in her eyes. He remembered that look. He’d missed it.
He’d missed her.
His gut bottomed out. After all these years, after every turn his life had taken, how could that be? But the truth sat right there in his passenger seat, her flame-red hair pulled back in an efficient ponytail, her lean body inadvertently emphasized by jeans and a fitted T.
She’d made it clear what she wanted, and it didn’t include him.
He’d worked hard to get where he was. Whenever he decided to pursue a goal, he committed everything to it. He hated the failure that his divorce had wrought, hated that Katrina had not only ridiculed his suggestion that they start a family but also had refused point-blank to even consider it. And now here was AJ, a ghost from his past, offering up his deepest desire. After Katrina’s refusal he’d managed to bury those feelings deep, focusing instead on forging a new career from the tattered remnants.
The irony was that AJ had no idea. She still thought he was some career-driven workaholic robot, motivated by success and money. Yet he was no longer the man she knew from back then, that young, overscheduled, goal-oriented man for whom career and the great Cooper name came first and foremost.
Decker was right. Everything he’d pursued he’d gotten—his position as chief surgeon at Saint Cat’s, GEM, various bed partners following Katrina. As a doctor, he’d been acutely aware of human frailty, the crazy ways a person’s life could hinge on the actions of others. Yet he was also a big believer in fate. He’d never been able to replicate the magic he’d had with AJ, not even with Katrina. But now, incredibly, he was being handed a second chance.
Fate.
Was he crazy? Maybe. But right now, he had the eerie feeling that if he said no to AJ, if he didn’t put in the effort to make another go of it, he’d lose her and she’d have their happy ending with someone else.
You’re actually going to make a woman fall in love with you? He could imagine Paige’s incredulity just before she burst out laughing.
This was no laughing matter. He had no intention of walking away—didn’t want to walk away. AJ had chosen him, had come to him.
Fate.
He eyeballed her as she waited patiently for his answer.
“So there’s been no one else?”
AJ slowly slid her sunglasses off, placed them high on her head, then met his direct look with one of her own. “One guy loved going out with his mates more than me. One preferred his collection of Lord of the Rings action figures. Another had three girls on the go. And one...” She paused. Those battle scars still stung—no doubt would still sting—for years to come. But their presence also proved she was doing the right thing.
“What happened?”
“He came close.” She shrugged. No naïveté for her again. “But then I found out he was married and cheating on his wife.” At his gently murmured curse she shrugged. “See? Asshats.”
“You’re still young, AJ. Only thirty-two. There’s still plenty of time to—”
“God help me, if you say, ‘you’ll find someone,’ I am so going to smack you.”
He clamped his mouth shut and stared out the windshield, the faint strains of traffic barely discernible in the background. “So you’ve decided to approach motherhood alone,” he said.
“Yes.”
He paused, eyebrow raised, waiting for her to elaborate.
She sighed and gripped the seat belt still strapped across her chest. “Given my single status and my low chances of getting pregnant, I’d booked an appointment with a fertility clinic, but that fell through and I have to wait six months for another.”
“Which is where I come in.”
“Yes. Matt, look. Maybe it was just a coincidence seeing you at Emily’s wedding. I’m not a believer in fate—”
“I am.”
She paused, digesting that interesting little snippet, then continued. “So if you want me to sign a contract, I will. I will not interfere with your life or your career. No one will have to know.”
“Keep us a secret?” His brow went up. “You didn’t like that idea last time.”
“You remember that?”
“You don’t?”
Every single moment I think of you. She swallowed the faint feeling of inadequacy, still there after all these years. “It was a long time ago. I’m older now. And I’m prepared to meet your terms.”
He remained silent for a moment, then said softly, “You don’t know what my terms are.”
She suppressed a shiver as his gaze passed over her face, taking in her features before focusing squarely on her eyes. Wait, did that mean—?
Her heart skipped a beat. “What are they?” she asked softly.
“Well, first—you have to be able to financially support a child.”
“I can.” Her calm response belied the growing butterflies in her stomach.
“Because I get the impression your income could be...” He paused, searching for a word. “Fickle.”
The implication stung. “Sometimes. But my bank account is decent. Do you want to check my balance?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” His gaze skimmed her again. “And having Zac Prescott as financial backup wouldn’t hurt, I’m guessing.”
Oh, now she was more than stung. She was irritated. “Yeah, sponging off my brother-in-law is not—and never has been—an option, Matt. What’s your next condition?”
“Do you have an apartment? A place of your own?”
“I’m looking.”
He nodded.
“Saint Cat’s fertility specialist is the best in the state. I can get an appointment for a week Thursday.”
“That’s quick.”
His smile was brief. “The perks of being the former head of neurosurgery.”
With a nod she asked, “Is that all?” then immediately hated the way her voice