“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else,” Faith said quietly. She rose from her chair and leaned over the table. “This point is not negotiable. The guardian must be David Alexander.” She was aware that only David would know her whereabouts if something happened to Reese. He would be her only link to her child.
She held her breath. She thought he might refuse. He certainly looked as if he wanted to. His eyes were dark and stormy, and narrowed to mere slits in his face. He clenched his teeth. The muscles on the right side of his face quivered under the strain.
She leaned down to whisper something in her aunt’s ear. Tempy pushed her chair away from the table.
Reese remained seated. He wanted to call her bluff. He wanted to challenge her, but he didn’t. He sat in impotent fury, knowing he had to agree to her condition. He could tell from the deliberately impassive look on her face that she would not concede.
“All right, dammit!” He did not lose graciously. “I agree to your terms.” He waited for her to gloat over her victory, but again he had misjudged her.
Her softly spoken thank-you sounded grateful and sincere.
And so it continued throughout the morning as they examined, discussed, and decided upon every minute detail of the contract until they reached the stickiest point of all.
Uncomfortable with the final item, David cleared his throat and reached for the last sheet of paper. “All that’s left to settle is the actual…uh...number...” He cleared his throat once more, louder this time, and tried again. “The...uh...actual...number of…attempts at conception.”
“What?” Tempy couldn’t believe her ears. She blushed to the roots of her red hair at the idea of setting an actual number.
“We must establish a time frame. If the child is not delivered within one year, the contract is null and void.” David struggled to maintain his professional demeanor.
Reese grinned.
Tempy and Faith huddled together, discussing the ramifications of the scheme. They whispered together for several minutes before they arrived at a number.
“Do you think three will be sufficient?” Faith asked.
Reese grinned again, this time with smug s
atisfaction. “I think three will be fine.”
David scribbled in the number without allowing time for further debate.
In their haste to settle on a number, neither Reese nor Faith thought to ask if “three” referred to the number of times they would share a bed or if it meant three minutes, three hours, three days, weeks, or months.
David handed Reese and Faith a copy of the agreement, then held out his pen.
“There is one other thing,” Reese said casually. “From the moment you sign this paper, Mrs. Collins, you will live with me. Only me. If I even suspect you’ve been with another man, the contract will be declared invalid and the money forfeited.”
“How dare you?” Tempy leaped to her feet.
“I dare, Miss Hamilton,” Reese answered silkily, “because there must be no question about my son’s paternity. I want him to have impeccable bloodlines and an untarnished reputation.” He fixed his chocolate-brown eyes on Faith. “I may not choose to announce it publicly, but we are legally bound until the end of your pregnancy. The proxy marriage is real. We are temporarily husband and wife. In Wyoming, we will live as husband and wife. I’ll expect you to behave circumspectly. There will be no other men in your life.”
Faith recoiled as if he’d slapped her. Her cheeks turned a brilliant red. Her chest heaved in indignation. Her gray eyes flashed angrily. “Is that your final condition?” Her words were frosty.
“It is.”
“Good.” Faith continued to face him. “I, too, have a final condition. You see, Mr. Jordan, I am very fastidious. If you ever come to me in your present state?reeking of alcohol, tobacco, and another woman’s perfume?I will consider the contract null and void whether I carry your child or not. I’ll gladly forfeit the remainder of the money, but you will forfeit all rights to my child.” She swallowed quickly to discourage the bile churning in her throat. “I agreed to that farcical ceremony, and I, at least, had the courage to utter the words. In person. Understand this, Mr. Jordan: There will be no other women in your life for the duration of the contract.” She flung his words back in his face.
Reese said nothing. He jerked the pen from David’s hand and scrawled his signature on one copy of the agreement, then the other, before shoving the instrument at Faith.
She took the pen and without even glancing his way, signed her name to both documents. She passed the papers to Tempy to witness.
Once that was done, Faith quickly stalked out the door. She walked down the hall, past the door to the Vice Presidential Suite, and into the water closet where she violently expelled the contents of her stomach.
* * *
“She drives a hard bargain,” Reese admitted. He was up to his chest in hot, soapy water, eliminating the odor, easing away the excesses of the night before, and nursing a snifter of brandy. The hair of the dog that had bitten him. “Hell of a way to start off the New Year.”
David threw back his head and laughed. He sat on a chair inside the folding screen, a few feet away from the bathtub. “I’ll say. Your plan almost blew up in your face.”