At the Pleasure of the President (The Perfect Gentlemen 5)

Who could have guessed being pregnant would make her crave sex so badly?

“I was alone for a long time after you…” He hadn’t actually died, so she couldn’t call it that anymore. “After you ripped my heart out and faked your death, so I started talking to her. We would take long walks on the beach and I would tell her about the world, about her family. I’m sure everyone in the Hamptons thought I’d lost my mind.”

“I want to talk to her.”

“What?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “You get to talk to her all the time. I want some time with her, too. You seem determined that we won’t be a couple again, so she should get used to each of us having partial custody.”

Talking about the notion of custody made Sara ill. She hadn’t given that reality any thought because for so long, Mad had been “dead.” Oh, god… Would they end up in court? Would her child be something they fought over?

Mad dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes softening with sheer emotion. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll work everything out, and I promise we won’t need a lawyer to do it. I’m never going to fight you on this, and I trust that you won’t keep our daughter from me.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” She couldn’t keep him out of their daughter’s life if he wanted to be in it. This child deserved two loving parents, and if he could be that, she would never let her own problems with him interfere with their bond.

He nodded. “I know. So don’t worry. No matter what happens, we’re going to love her and respect each other. We made her together. We’ll parent her the same way whether we’re a couple or not.”

Sara nodded, choking back emotion. Everything Mad said was logical, even reasonable. Of course they would make the best of this situation. But she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her sad to think about the two of them raising their daughter apart.

“So I think we should begin as we mean to go. I want equal time with her starting now.”

What was he trying to say? “You want to talk to our daughter, too?”

“Yep. And I’d love to feel her moving. But I won’t touch you, even for that, if you don’t want me to.”

She wished he would say something annoying or screw up in some way so she would have a good reason to lose her temper with him. Because as solicitous and charming as Mad was being now, she couldn’t deny him. Somewhere along the way he’d figured out how to defuse her anger. “It’s all right. I’m going to lie back. She moves a lot when I’m still. It’s like I start to relax or drift off, and she decides it’s play time.”

His eyes lit up and he held out his hand to help her lie back. Once she’d settled, he climbed on the mattress beside her and reached out, seeming almost hesitant to lay his hand on her baby bump.

“You won’t hurt her. I’m not fragile either.” She took his hand and brought it to her belly. “You might have to wait for it. Like her mother, she doesn’t perform on command.”

“I remember a time when you did perform on command,” he said, his tone going silky smooth, reminding her again just how sexy he could be. “When we were in Toronto for that conference—”

“No.” She shot him a censuring stare to let him know they were not strolling down memory lane. “I thought you wanted to talk to our daughter, Mad, not seduce me.”

His expression turned serious, and he caressed her belly as he settled comfortably beside her. “Have we decided on a name yet or am I just calling her Baby Girl?”

“We?”

He winced. “By we I mean you because I gave up all rights to name the baby what I would have when…how did you put it? I ripped your heart out and faked my own death.”

He was definitely learning. “Excellent. No. We haven’t decided. Dare I ask what name you would have selected if you hadn’t done all those foolish things?”

“Hortense. It was my grandmother’s name, and she made me promise to hand it down to my daughter if I ever had one. She said the world would have less problems if women were named properly. As if naming my daughter Hortense would somehow keep her from wet T-shirt contests and dancing on bars.”

“You are not naming her Hortense.”

“Well, I’m not now because I did all those other things. So when you really think about it, I kind of saved her from a childhood of teasing and misery.”

She shook her head, noting his clever play. “Not working. Now talk to Baby Girl.”

He fell silent for a moment and she closed her eyes against his stare, trying not to enjoy the feel of him pressed against her, his hand resting where their child grew.

“Hey, Baby Girl. I’m your dad. I know. I’ve been gone most of the time you’ve been baking in there, so I’ve missed a lot of stuff. But I thought about you every second of every day I was gone. You and your mom.” He caressed her belly, and Sara tried not to be moved. “I’m going to level with you. I don’t know how much I’m going to bring to the table here, kiddo. My dad was not the best parent and my mom mostly shopped her way through my childhood. So I don’t know a ton about how to be a good dad, but I’m going to try. I’m sure there’s a YouTube video or an app. Something. I promise I’ll figure it out.”

She opened her eyes. “Seriously?”

He frowned at her. “This is a private conversation between me and my daughter, please.”

She rolled her eyes, then shut them again because it appeared he was serious.

“I also don’t bring a ton of family. My parents are both gone, and I didn’t have any siblings growing up. I had some friends and they were my family. I can tell you stories about your Uncle Gabe.”

She scowled at him because she knew some of those stories herself.

Mad shrugged with all innocence. “Only the G-rated ones. I promise.” He looked back at her belly. “Don’t tell your mom. She worries I’ll corrupt you, but you’ve already got my blood running through your veins. I fear for your teenaged years. Unless you take after your mom. Then I just fear because your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s gorgeous and kind. And she’s so smart, I had to hustle for years to even get her to look at me.”

Not true. Sara had always looked at him.

When she was younger and Gabe would say he was bringing home a friend for the weekend, she’d always prayed it was Mad. Even at the age of ten, she’d had the worst crush on him. He’d been thirteen, and he’d been funny and patient with her even then. Every time she’d clapped eyes on him she’d sighed.

Once she’d turned sixteen, he’d started to notice her as a woman. Of course his reputation had been cemented by then. She had been smart enough to know he could break her heart.

And he had.

“She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved, the only one I ever said I love you to. But that’s going to change because I love you, Baby Girl. You’re the only two women I’ll ever say those three words to. I love you and I’ll do everything I can to be here for you. I promise.”

Her daughter fluttered, and Mad’s eyes widened with wonder.

Sara couldn’t help but smile. “That’s her. She hears you.”

He caressed her belly in return. “I hear you, too, Baby Girl.”

Then Mad sighed as though he was completely content with the world. Despite being known as the world’s most infamous playboy, he seemed totally happy just chilling and talking to his unborn child.

As the sound of his voice began to lull her to sleep, Sara realized she was happy, too.

* * * *

Zack shook the hand of the reporter and photographer, relieved to have this chore off his checklist without too much fuss.

“Thanks for being so flexible, Mr. President. And for taking the time.” The photographer slung his bag over his shoulder.

“It was no trouble,” Zack replied as Elizabeth stood nearby, giving the reporter a gracious smile as she shook his hand.

The light in the China Room was sunny and bright, almost golden. It practically gave Elizabeth a halo. She looked so pretty standing th

ere. If this piece of publicity had taken place a few months down the line, she would have been in that picture with him, showing off the elegant china pattern she’d selected for his term in office. She’d picked it, of course, but she wasn’t the First Lady so he’d been forced to stand beside the place setting alone as the press documented it for posterity. Instead, Elizabeth had stood back, carefully arranging everything, making sure this chore came off smoothly for him, exactly as she’d done for years.

As the reporter and photographer left with their escort, he thought about the mountain of work waiting for him in the Oval. Elizabeth probably had her own Everest of paperwork and emails on her desk back in the press office. But damn it, he didn’t want to spend the afternoon apart from her.