that.’
‘There’s no way round it,’ Cesare informed her impatiently, marvelling at the luminous quality of those tear-drenched eyes.
‘AI,’ she declared quietly.
His straight ebony brows lifted. ‘AI?’
‘Artificial insemination. We use it with the stock and we can do it that way too,’ Lizzie muttered in an undertone, trying not to succumb to discomfiture because he was really staring at her now as if he had never heard of such a process. ‘I mean, that way there’s no need at all for us to get up close and personal. We can both conserve our dignity.’
Cesare was staggered by the suggestion. ‘Dignity?’ he queried thinly, his first reaction being one of male offence until his clever brain examined the suggestion. For him, it would be a win-win situation, he acknowledged grudgingly. He would not have to sacrifice his freedom in any field because the marriage would be a detached charade from start to finish. That was the civilised sensible approach because there would always be the risk that sexual involvement could muddy the waters of their arrangement. But while his intellect reinforced that rational outlook, he discovered that he was curiously reluctant to embrace the concept of a child fathered in a lab rather than in the normal way and equally reluctant to accept that Lizzie Whitaker would never share his bed.
‘Well, obviously neither one of us would want to be put in the position where we would have to have sex with a stranger.’
Without warning, unholy amusement burnished Cesare’s lean, darkly handsome features. ‘I don’t think you know much about the average male.’
Colour flared like a banner in Lizzie’s cheeks. ‘And if that’s the sort of man you are, I don’t think you should be boasting about it!’ she snapped pointedly.
Cesare breathed in slow and deep and resisted the urge to ask her if she ever lightened up. It was something of a shock for him to discover that there was a woman alive utterly impervious to his looks and charisma. He didn’t believe in false modesty and had been well aware since the teen years that he could attract women in droves, a success rating that had only been enhanced by his gradual rise to billionaire status. Lizzie, however, put out no encouraging vibes and was not remotely flirtatious.
Watching the cool forbidding expression spread across his lean bronzed face, Lizzie took fright and said, ‘I’m sorry...I’m too worried about Archie to mind what I say. I didn’t intend to be rude but you must understand that two people with as little in common as we have really do need a get-out clause when it comes to having a baby,’ she framed with a shy upward glance. ‘And if I agree to that, there would be additional safeguards I would require.’
‘Such as?’
Lizzie breathed in deep. ‘You would have to agree to take on the role of acting as a father to the child until it grew up. Obviously we’ll marry and then divorce...whenever.’ Lizzie shifted an uncertain hand. ‘But a child has specific needs from a parent and those needs must be met with love and security from both of us. That would be quite a responsibility for you to take on for the next twenty years and I need to be sure that you’re willing to accept that.’
A very faint darkening of colour across Cesare’s spectacular cheekbones highlighted his discomfiture. He had assumed that Lizzie was planning to discuss the financial rewards for her willingness to fulfil the terms of the will and her true, infinitely more responsible and caring angle of interest had pierced him with a rare sense of guilt. ‘Why are you so willing to take on that responsibility?’ he prompted.
‘I’ve always wanted a child of my own,’ Lizzie responded, quite comfortable and secure in making that admission. ‘But I don’t really want a man to go with the child, so the arrangement you suggested would probably suit me best of all. At the same time I don’t want to raise a fatherless child, so an occasional father such as you would be is even more acceptable.’
Cesare was quietly stunned by those statements. The women he socialised with were never so frank about a desire to conceive either now or in the future. He wondered if she was still in love with her ex or simply some sort of man-hater because it was unusual for so young a woman to decide that she wanted to live her life alone. And then in dawning dismay he heard himself say, ‘Are you gay?’
Lizzie turned bright pink but recognised why he had interpreted her words in that light. ‘No, that’s not the problem,’ she responded stiffly, determined to keep her reasons for her solitary choice of lifestyle strictly private. There was no requirement whatsoever for her to explain herself to him and she was grateful for the fact.
‘If we had a child together, I would hope to meet all your expectations of a father,’ Cesare informed her with quiet conviction. ‘As it happens, I have a very good father of my own and appreciate the importance of the role he plays.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘That was my only real concern... Oh.’ She hesitated but there was no way of avoiding the most pressing requirement. ‘If we’re to proceed with this I’m afraid I’ll need some money from you upfront. I have to be honest—we are all stony broke. My sister needs some cash to stay on at university and I’ll have to rent a property in the village for my dad because when I leave, he’ll be relinquishing the tenancy of the farm.’
Absorbing the fluctuating expressions of embarrassment and apprehension skimming her heart-shaped face, Cesare sent her a soothing smile. ‘Naturally it’s not a problem. I expected something of the sort.’
‘You knew how we were fixed...before you visited?’ Lizzie queried in surprise.
‘I never enter a situation blind,’ Cesare countered unapologetically.
Danny the vet appeared in the doorway. ‘Archie will be out in a minute. My nurse is just finishing up with him. His leg’s broken and he’s had a blow to the skull, which means he’s a little woozy, but other than that he seems fine.’
After the vet had explained his treatment and proffered medication for the coming days, Archie emerged in the nurse’s arms, a cast attached to one small leg and a balloon collar round his neck to prevent him from nibbling at it. Lizzie gathered him close, tears tripping from her eyes again as she huskily thanked the older man while Cesare insisted on taking care of the bill.
‘I’m very attached to Archie,’ Lizzie explained, dashing tears of relief from her eyes with her elbow. ‘You can drive back if you want. The keys are in my pocket.’
Cesare fished out the keys and unlocked the car. ‘I was hoping you would fly back to London with me tonight.’
‘Tonight?’ Lizzie exclaimed in disbelief. ‘That’s impossible!’
‘We have a tight time schedule. I have everything arranged. Is it really impossible?’ Cesare prompted drily. ‘You appear to have no presentable clothes and can’t need to pack much.’
‘But I have to sort out somewhere for Dad to live and move him out of the cottage.’
‘I have staff who will hire professionals to deal with those tasks for you,’ Cesare told her with complete cool. ‘You’ve had your say. I have agreed to your terms and now I need you to come to London.’
It was bite-the-bullet time, Lizzie registered, angrily colliding with brilliant dark eyes as hard as jet. He was being unreasonable. Surely there was no excuse for such haste? But what choice did she have? The arrangement having been agreed, he was now in charge of events.
