Рассветница-3: Реалити-шоу. Оксана Алексеева

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Рассветница-3: Реалити-шоу - Оксана Алексеева Рассветница

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      “Maybe you’re a taker like your father. Maybe you came to me yesterday hoping I’d help you financially.”

      “Is everything really just money to you?”

      He leaned toward her. “How dare you ask me that?”

      “Then what about our child? I want our baby to have his or her father’s name … and his love, if that’s possible. Your love. That’s very important to me. Do you want to play a role in his or her life, or not?”

      He was silent.

      “Because if you don’t, one of my oldest and dearest friends lives in London. Her name’s Carol Lawton, and when she heard about my problems, she offered me a job in a publishing firm over there. It would mean leaving Louisiana …”

      “No!”

      “You wouldn’t have to stay married to me for very long to give him his name. You could even tell people why you had to marry me.”

      “No. I couldn’t do that.” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping her. “So, what kind of theoretical marriage do you imagine we could possibly have? Hell, the only plus we have going for us is that we’re great together in bed.”

      “No sex,” she asserted in a low, breathy rush.

      “What? You expect me to tie myself to you without even that as a fringe benefit?” He stared through her. “What about you? After the way you kissed me yesterday, are you sure that’s what you want?”

      “Who are you kidding? You ran off to the swamp yesterday because you couldn’t take the heat from that kiss. Our marriage should be about the baby—not us. I, for one—definitely—don’t think we should complicate our confusing situation with more sex.”

      “Definitely?” The edges of his tense mouth relaxed. “You sound so … er … determined.”

      She wished. Who was she kidding? Jake had such a devastating effect on her, she wondered if she’d be able to resist him if he chose to exploit that weakness some night when she was feeling particularly lonely and unloved.

      “So, we’re talking about a marriage of convenience. Doubtless, you’ll demand a sizable settlement when we split up?” he said.

      “No settlement.”

      “Right. A Butler who isn’t after my money. What a refreshing development.”

      “I’ll sign a prenup if you want me to. If you help me find a job somewhere … or help me get started in London, that would be wonderful. We … we wouldn’t even have to live together while we’re married either. I just want the baby to feel his father wanted him.”

      “So, no sex and no settlement, huh?”

      “I told you, this isn’t about sex or money. It’s about what’s best for the baby. I grew up with all the money in the world, but …”

      “But with a real bastard for a father, who never gave a damn about you. Poor little rich girl.”

      “Please … don’t run him down.” She stopped, feeling bleak at the dark feelings his words too easily stirred within her. Her childhood with her father may have been loveless, but that didn’t mean she could bear other people sitting in judgment of him. Especially not now when he was under house arrest and she herself was uncertain as to his guilt of innocence.

      Turning away so he wouldn’t read the longing that welled up inside her, she watched a happy young couple leave the medical building. They were laughing and holding hands. When they reached their battered, compact car, the man pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her fervently. Maybe they, too, had learned they were going to have a baby—only they were both thrilled.

      Color me green, she thought.

      Watching them, too, Jake stiffened. “Sorry … for what I just said about your dad,” he said in a gentler tone.

      “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Our marriage would hardly be a fairy tale with the promise of happily-ever-after like we both dreamed we might know with someone we would have freely chosen some day. And believe me, my father won’t be happy about any of this when he finds out.”

      “If you’re determined to get married, we live together,” Jake growled.

      “Why—when you didn’t even want to spend the night with me last night?”

      “Who the hell knows? Maybe because I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. As long as you’re my wife, I’ll keep you close so I can keep an eye on you. Besides, who’ll look after you if I’m not around?”

      Against her better judgment, at this softer sentiment her heart warmed to him a little.

      “My house is big,” he said. “You can use the bedroom downstairs that you slept in last night. I’ll live on the second floor just like always. But while we’re married, you’re to have nothing to do with your father.”

      “But Jake ….”

      “That’s nonnegotiable. I don’t trust him or you—and I especially don’t trust the two of you together.”

      “But, he’s been arrested. He’s alone and in trouble. I know how that feels. I can’t just turn my back on him.”

      “No involvement. So long as you’re my wife, you’re not to associate with him. Not even a phone call. You’re to stay away from his trial, too. Do you understand me?”

      She turned and stared mutely out the window at the cars speeding by beyond the parking lot. What if her father was innocent and she deserted him?

      “Do you want to marry me or not?” Jake demanded, hard finality in his voice.

      Uncertain, she froze. Finally she nodded. “But only for the baby’s sake.”

      He frowned. “Then you’ll agree to stay away from him while we’re married?”

      “Yes,” she whispered in a tone that was so faint it was nearly inaudible.

      “There can be no other men in your life while we’re married.”

      “What?” she murmured, feeling crushed that he thought her so low. But then, all he knew was that she’d made love to him the first night she’d met him. How could he possibly realize how special he’d been, how profoundly connected she’d felt to him?

      “Since our marriage will upset a lot of people, including my clients and employees, I want it to appear respectable. I don’t want to give the press or your numerous enemies anything extra to chew on. So you’ll have to agree not to be seen out with other men.”

      “Of course,” she said quietly even as anger began to bubble inside her. “What about you, Mr. High And Mighty? Will the same rule apply to you?”

      “I will abide by the same rule—for the same reason.”

      “Not out of any loyalty to me.

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