The Million-Dollar Catch. Susan Mallery

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be co-parenting a child. That doesn’t make us a family.”

      “You can call it what you want,” he told her, “but having a baby together makes us a family. Everything has changed, Julie. There’s more here than what each of us feels. There’s a third life. Our child deserves the best from us. That’s why I think we should get married.”

      Seven

      “Married?” Julie sprang to her feet and stared down at Ryan. “Are you insane? Married? What the hell is wrong with you?”

      She suddenly remembered the glass walls and sat down again. She lowered her voice, but she wasn’t any less pissed off.

      “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny. It’s horrible.” Married? What was he thinking? And just when she’d decided he might not be so awful after all.

      “Horrible?” he asked, sounding disgustingly calm. “How so?”

      “We don’t even like each other,” she muttered. “What about being married would be pleasant?”

      “I do like you,” he said. “Aside from a single act you can’t forgive, I think you like me. Getting married for the sake of a baby is a time-honored tradition.”

      “In what century?”

      Had he really said he liked her? She shook her head. She had to get a grip. Who cared if he liked her? She would never marry Ryan—not in her lifetime.

      “We’re rational, intelligent adults,” Ryan said. “We’re having a baby together. We’ll both want our child to have the best of everything and that means having both parents around. Do you really want to be a single mother?”

      “Yes. I’m fine with it. I was raised by a single mother.” Sort of. Technically there was a father, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever bothered to stay more than fifteen minutes at a time.

      “I think it’s important to have both parents around if at all possible,” he told her.

      “Great, but it’s not possible.”

      “Why?”

      Why? She hated that he was sitting there, discussing this, all cool and composed while she was wishing they were in the law library so she could throw some really heavy books at his head.

      “I don’t want to marry you,” she said, making her words as clear as possible.

      “Why not?”

      She was going to kill him and it wasn’t going to be her fault. “I don’t know you. Despite what your ego-inflated brain tells you, I don’t particularly like you. I’m not interested in getting married for some arcane sociological reason and I think a single parent can do a perfectly excellent job.”

      “We could try.”

      What was with him? Why did he keep pushing? And why was she both furious and incredibly sad?

      “I don’t want to try. Not with you.”

      “Okay. So it’s not me,” he said. “You object to marriage in general.”

      “I do not. I want to get married. Someday.” When men stopped lying to her. “Just not now and not to you. You’re a man who assumes all women are after his money. I couldn’t stand that.”

      “You’re saying you’d object to a prenuptial agreement? Protecting my assets is only reasonable.”

      Right now he should be a whole lot more worried about his ass than his assets, she thought grimly as she briefly glanced around, looking for something sharp so she could stab him.

      “You need to go,” she said between gritted teeth. “Seriously, I have work to do. I know you don’t understand how I could possibly turn down your incredibly flattering offer. Based on your view of women, there must be thousands who would take the plunge, especially after such a romantic proposal. Be still my heart. Wait. It is.”

      One corner of his mouth twitched, as if he found this funny. That made her want to grind him into dust.

      “So much energy,” he said in an infuriatingly soothing tone. “Makes me wonder what you’re hiding. Getting married isn’t all that unexpected a concept, Julie. So what are you really upset about?”

      She stood. “This has been fabulous. We should do it again. Maybe have a party, exchange gift bags.”

      He stood and walked around to her side of the table, took her hand and pushed her back into a corner of the room. One where they were out of sight of anyone walking by.

      “I’m not going to leave this alone,” he said, staring into her eyes and making her thighs whimper. “Whatever you say, whatever you do, I’m sticking around. This is my child and my life, too. Don’t think you can hide from me forever.”

      Then he kissed her. Right there in the office, in front of an empty conference table and a display cabinet holding some very expensive crystal pieces.

      He pressed his lips to hers in a move that was both erotic and possessive. The heat was as instantaneous as it was intense. Her fingers itched to grab hold of him and never let go. The rest of her body just wanted to be naked and plastered against his.

      She fought against her desire to deepen the kiss, but before she could either win or lose the battle, he stepped back.

      “Have the paperwork drawn up for the retainer agreement and sent over to my office,” he said. “I’ll messenger it back with a check.”

      What? Oh, yeah. Work. “I’m not interested in working with you.”

      “Maybe not, but you want the account, so you’ll suffer. And Julie?”

      She carefully wiped her mouth with her fingers before answering. “Yes?”

      “How ever much you try to deny it—I know the truth. You do like me.”

      “I love bagels,” Marina said as she emptied the bag. “I love the smell of them toasting, slathering them with cream cheese, taking them out onto the patio and eating one while sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper.”

      Julie glanced at Willow. “Okay, I’m suddenly hungry. How about you?”

      “Starved. Mom won’t be back for another half hour or so. We could snack.”

      “There’s plenty to choose from.”

      In one of those unexpected quirks of fate, Julie had finished up all her work on Friday and hadn’t had to go into the office on Saturday morning. With nothing to fill her time except brooding, she decided to go to the farmer’s market and wander around. She’d indulged herself with tons of fresh fruits and vegetables, a sinfully gooey Danish and a baker’s dozen of fresh bagels that she’d shared with her sisters.

      Marina pulled out the three bagels she would take home with her and put them in a separate bag. “So how are you feeling?”

      “Good.”

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