Contract Baby

Raul sent her a shimmering glance, his mouth curling. ‘Much good it would do me if I did have such plans. Although it seems very wrong to me, in this country I have no legal rights as the father of your child.’

‘Honestly?’ Polly surveyed him through very wide and surprised blue eyes. ‘But what about the contract?’

‘Forget the contract. It might as well not exist now. Do you seriously think that I would even want to take such a personal and private matter into a courtroom?’

‘I never thought of that,’ Polly admitted, suddenly feeling quite weak with the strength of her relief. ‘I just had nightmares about being extradited to the USA.’

An involuntary smile briefly curved Raul’s lips. ‘Force wouldn’t work in a situation like this.’

Did he think that persuasion would? Polly worried about that idea. She knew that her own convictions ran so deep and strong he had no hope of changing her mind; she was determined to keep her baby. But she was burdened by the increasingly guilty awareness that that wasn’t very fair to Raul, and that some way, somehow, they had to find a compromise that would be bearable for them both.

Yet where could they possibly find that compromise? Raul had chosen surrogacy because he wanted a child, but not a child he had to share in a conventional relationship. Raul had opted for a detached, businesslike arrangement without strings. But no matter what happened now he had no hope of acquiring sole custody of his own child. How could she not feel guilty about that?

Raul took her back to a luxury apartment in Mayfair. Polly felt intimidated by the grandeur of her surroundings. A light and exquisitely cooked lunch was served by a quiet and unobtrusive manservant. Throughout the meal, Raul chatted about his business trip to Paris. He was very entertaining, a sophisticated and amusing raconteur. But, while she laughed and smiled in response, all she could really think about was how easily he had fooled her with that charismatic polish in Vermont.

It meant nothing. It just meant he had terrific social skills. She had learned to read Raul well enough to recognise that essential detachment just beneath the surface, not to mention his smooth ability to avoid giving personal information. All those visits in Vermont and what had she picked up about him? That he had no close family alive, that he was a businessman who travelled a lot, and that he had been born in Venezuela. Precious little.

Raul ran hooded dark eyes over her abstracted face. ‘I feel like you’re not with me.’

‘Perhaps I’m tired,’ she said uncomfortably.

Instantly Raul thrust back his chair and rose lithely upright. ‘Then you should lie down in one of the guest rooms for a while.’

‘No... we need to talk,’ Polly acknowledged tautly. ‘I want to get that over with.’

Leaving the table, she sett

led down into a comfortable armchair. The coffee was served. Raul paced restively over to the window and then gazed across the room at her. ‘Don’t look so anxious... it makes me feel like a bully,’ he admitted grimly.

Polly clutched her cup. ‘You’re not that,’ she acknowledged fairly. ‘You’ve been very patient and more understanding than I could ever have expected.’

Raul spread lean brown hands with an eloquence that never failed to engage her attention. ‘I have a possible solution to this situation. Please hear me out,’ he urged.

Tense as a bowstring, Polly sat very still.

‘The biggest difference between us is that I planned to be a parent from the very outset of our association,’ Raul delineated with measured clarity. ‘But you did not. When you became pregnant you did not expect to take on permanent responsibility for that child.’

Polly nodded in wary, reluctant agreement.

‘I think you’re too young to handle becoming a single parent. I understand that you have become attached to the baby, and that you are naturally very concerned about its future well-being. But if you choose to keep the baby you will have to sacrifice the freedom that most young women of your age take for granted.’

Polly gave him a stubborn look. ‘I know that. I’m not stupid. And I’m hardly likely to miss what I’ve never had—’

‘But you could have that freedom now. You should be making plans to return to university to complete your degree,’ Raul told her steadily. ‘If you let me take my child back to Venezuela, I will allow you access visits, regular reports, photographs. I will agree to any reasonable request. My child will know you as his mother but you will not be the primary carer.’

Raul had taken her very much by surprise. Polly hadn’t expected such a willingness to compromise from a male to whom she sensed ‘compromise’ was an unfamiliar word. On his terms, she guessed it was a very generous offer. He was offering to share their child to some extent, and that was a lot more than she had anticipated.

‘I believe every child deserves two parents,’ she responded awkwardly. ‘Two parents on the spot.’

‘That’s impossible.’

‘I was brought up by my father, and there wasn’t a day I didn’t long for my mother.’

‘This child may be a boy.’

‘I don’t think that makes any difference. Because of my own experiences, I couldn’t face being parted from my child. Whatever it takes, I need to be there for my baby and do the very best I can to be a good mother.’ Polly was very tense as she struggled to verbalise her own deepest feelings. ‘And, yes, it is a very great pity that I didn’t work that out before I signed that contract... but my only excuse is that I honestly didn’t even begin to understand how I would feel once I was actually pregnant.’

‘That’s in the past now. We need to concentrate on the present.’ With that rather deflating assurance, Raul flung back his darkly handsome head, his dark eyes formidable in their penetration. ‘If you really mean what you say when you protest that you intend to be the very best mother you can be...then you must move to Venezuela.’