Bound by the Kincaid Baby (The Payback Affairs #2)(19)
Author: Emilie Rose

He couldn’t risk the hell Trish had put him through when she’d become pregnant despite his religious use of protection. The betrayal of finding out the woman he’d worshipped had slept with her ex-husband while she and Mitch were talking marriage had been a living hell. And then he’d had to endure nine agonizing months of wondering if the baby was his or her ex’s, and the disappointment of finding out the child wasn’t his. Not a good time.

He forced his arms to support him and levered his upper body off the pillow of Carly’s br**sts. “You’ll have to marry me.”

She stiffened beneath him. Her legs fell from his thighs and she rose to her elbows. “What?”

“For Rhett’s sake.” And in case she’d lied about being on the Pill. He wasn’t going to wait for the P.I. report or risk her disappearing or face another nine-month wait for a DNA test. He’d push this deal through ASAP. “He needs two parents.”

He separated from her physically and attempted to do so mentally, but the sight of her draped across the desk, of her curves and the damp dark curls between her legs, knocked his willpower sideways. He turned his back, reached for his pants and stepped into them, zipping up before he could repeat his mistake.

He’d never considered having kids before Travis and Ashley had come into his life. After Trish’s pregnancy, he’d decided he never would. If there was one thing he’d learned from his relationship with Trish, it was that the mother held all the cards. Even if the baby had been his, Trish would have returned to her ex and Mitch would have been powerless. He might have been granted joint custody. But in majority of the cases the mother was granted primary custody, and the father was turned into a visitor. That was tough on the kids but even tougher on the parent who’d become an outsider in his kid’s life.

He wasn’t going to be that parent.

And now, thanks to his idiocy and lack of control, more than the Kincaid inheritance was at stake.

Nine

“A re you crazy? You don’t get married just because you’ve had sex.”

Carly had once been naive enough to believe otherwise. She’d lost her heart, her virginity and her baby in the process of learning that painful lesson.She scrambled off the desk, snatched up her shirt and scanned the room for her bra. She didn’t see a hint of lace anywhere. Forget it. She stuffed her arms inside her sleeves and towed the fabric over her head.

Mitch’s hard, direct stare pinned her in place. “You want to ensure Rhett’s future is secure. So do I. This is the best way to do it. We’ll marry and adopt him.”

Rhett would be her son.

Too good to be true.

Holding her jeans and panties in front of her like a shield, she searched Mitch’s face, looking for something—anything—to clue her in to his emotional state.

Nada.

And yet she was tempted by his proposal. She liked Mitch more with each exposure and was only a nudge away from falling for him. This evening, watching him verbally spar with his brother had reminded her of what she’d never have with Marlene again. That empty, aching void, one very similar to the one left by giving up her daughter, seemed impossible to fill.

Rebound romance, the voice in her head screamed a now familiar warning.

“Why would you want to marry me?”

Mitch finished tucking in his shirt and then fastened his leather belt with much more dexterity than she’d fumbled it open earlier. “We’re good together. Explosive.”

Amen. She’d never had sex like that before. Wild. Unrestrained. And oh so wonderful. All right, maybe she and Mitch had some pretty powerful chemistry between them.

But marriage?

She couldn’t ignore the caution lights illuminating her brain like the Vegas strip. “We’ve known each other less than three weeks. I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mitch.”

“Besides the timing, give me one good reason why we shouldn’t.”

Feeling exposed in more ways than one, she stepped into her pants and fastened them.

“Love?” Or lack thereof.

“You’ve been in love before. How’d that work for you?”

She grimaced. “Not so well.”

All three of the men she’d loved had let her down, betrayed her in one way or another and left her. Was it better to go into a relationship with something less fragile than love as the glue to hold it together? With her track record, it was beginning to look that way.

And with the way she felt, wasn’t love right around the corner? But she didn’t want a one-sided affair. She wanted to be loved back. Was Mitch Kincaid capable?

He might have started out as a jerk, but she and he shared a strong sense of family. If not, they wouldn’t be butting heads over a determination to do the right thing by Rhett. And if she lived here as Mitch’s wife and a permanent part of Rhett’s up-bringing, she could do her best to ensure her sister’s precious son wouldn’t be exposed to the world of nannies or turn into some spoiled, rich brat who snorted his life away.

“I like and respect you, Carly, and I admire your dedication to your nephew. It’s enough to build on.”

Nephew. A reminder that Rhett wasn’t hers.

But he could be.

“You said earlier today that you couldn’t promise forever,” she reminded him.

“I said I couldn’t guarantee it. How many marriages starting with that pledge actually last ’til death do us part?”

Less than fifty percent.

We could be a family.

And Carly could give Rhett what her sister had so desperately wanted for him but hadn’t been able to achieve—the right to grow up in Kincaid Manor, his father’s home.

She was tempted. Very tempted. And not just for Rhett’s sake.

Marlene hated Mitch. She’d called him a conniving rat bastard.

But Marlene had called everyone who gave her a hard time names, Carly reminded herself. Her twin had been hot-tempered…and devious, if the notebook was to be believed.

Mitch tried to convince Marlene to abort.

But he’d done so on his father’s orders.

Mitch cupped her shoulders, interrupting her private debate. “We could have this—” a nod indicated the desk “—every day for as long as the passion lasts.”

Need twisted through her abdomen, wreaking havoc with her reservations. But Mitch had a thing about women having a price. “I’m not looking for a sugar daddy.”

“I don’t intend to be one.”

“I would never abandon Rhett.”

“I won’t force you to.”

Indecision rocked her like a buoy in a tropical storm. “We’d always discuss what’s best for him?”

“Absolutely.”

“What about brothers and sisters for him sometime in the future? I’d—I’d really like to have a…a baby one day.”

Mitch’s nostrils flared. “One child at a time. Let’s get through the adoption first.”

“But you like children?”

He expelled a slow breath. “I like kids.”

“And you’d—we’d—be…exclusive?”

“When I make a commitment, I see it through.”

Her heart pounded so hard she could barely think. Her resistance wavered.

Do what’s best for Rhett.

All she had to do was say yes and Rhett would have a home, family and security, and she’d have the possibility of another baby in her future.

It wouldn’t be a storybook marriage, and she wasn’t deluded enough to believe she could ever fill the hole in her heart left from relinquishing her daughter. But she wanted a baby and another chance to be the mother she’d always dreamed she could have been. And despite being burned three times, she still wanted a chance at love.

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to buy calm and time and to gather her courage.

It’s the right thing to do.

She met Mitch’s gaze. “I’ll marry you.”

Mitch’s fingers contracted, and then he released her. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a prenup. As soon as it’s done and yours has looked it over, we’ll do this.”

The caution lights flashed. “A prenup?”

“Standard protocol when there’s so much inequity in each partner’s net worth.”

Understandable. If she were him, she’d want one, too. But a small nagging part of her wished he trusted her without legal backup. “You’re in a hurry to do this?”

“Why wait?”

“I’d, um…like my parents to be here.”

“I’ll charter a jet.”

“I’ll need to see how soon we can reserve the church.”

“I’d prefer a private ceremony here.”

She’d always dreamed of a church wedding. “But—”

“Your sister has been dead three months, my father just over one. An elaborate ceremony would be inappropriate.”

He had a point. “Okay. But I want my preacher to preside.”

“A judge will work just as well.”

“Not negotiable, Mitch. I want the church’s blessing.”

His jaw shifted into the stubborn angle with which she’d become so familiar. “If he can do it by the end of the week. I’ll make it worth his while to be available.”

Her head spun at the speed with which he made life-changing decisions. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow after the service. He’s not going to be happy about the rush. He usually requires some kind of premarital counseling. Perhaps you’d like to come with me and persuade him to skip that part.”

His shoulders stiffened. Mitch’s green eyes darkened and drilled into hers. “I’ll be there.”

Even her preacher had his price.Carly would become Mrs. Mitch Kincaid Friday evening.

Shocked and a little disillusioned by how easily money had trumped faith and principle this morning, Carly followed Mitch toward the hundred-foot-long yacht docked at the back of the Kincaid property after church. All it had taken was a generous donation and her pastor had fallen all over himself to accommodate Mitch’s wishes. If he’d had other plans for Friday evening, he hadn’t mentioned them.

“It’s Rhett’s nap time. Can’t we go boating later?”

“He can sleep on board. I had a nursery set up in one of the cabins while we were out this morning. We have a two o’clock appointment.”

“With?”

He paused and turned on the sidewalk. The brisk breeze blowing off the water ruffled his nearly black hair and fluttered the lapels of the navy suit he’d worn to church. She couldn’t see his eyes because of his dark sunglasses. “The jeweler.”

Her mind shrieked and her feet skidded to a stop. Rings. She hadn’t even thought about rings. He was moving too fast. “Can’t we drive there?”

“Yes, if we want our engagement to be front-page news tomorrow. I’m trying to avoid having cameras shoved in our faces each time we leave the house.”

Front-page news? A shiver racked her despite the ninety-degree heat. She hugged Rhett closer. “That’s going to happen?”