For Better or For Worse (Wedding Vows) Read online

  “My ‘spies’ as you call them, have kept track of her every move.”

  Jason shook his head. “I can’t believe you do that. You have some goon follow every single woman I ever go to bed with?”

  “Just long enough to make certain they haven’t conceived your child.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “This is serious business.”

  “And now you think she’s having my baby?”

  Mr. Talbot lifted a shaky hand and pointed to the back of the room. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  Jason spun around, his expression blank, his mouth slightly open, his dark brows drawing into a crease.

  She searched his face for a glimmer of recognition, but she got nothing.

  She brought her hands to her mouth. She couldn’t fall apart now, couldn’t act like a crazy, lovestruck teenager. The tears were building up in her eyes, and a lump grew in her throat.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Mr. Talbot said, his voice turning grave. “In order for you to continue being supported, you are going to marry her. And to make the transaction acceptable to her, she will get $200,000 a month.”

  Diane’s mouth fell open. What was he doing? Was he trying to bribe her into marrying his son? And what did that make her, a whore?

  She jumped to her feet, anger turning her cheeks hot, hands balled into fists. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice as hard and stern as she could make it, “but I don’t recall you asking me if this was acceptable. I would agree to child support, but I have no intention of marrying for money.”

  Jason’s jaw dropped, and then he appeared to relax. Like he thought he was getting out of the trouble he was in.

  Carl stuck his lower lip out in a pout, then straightened. “Of course it’s acceptable. You’re in no position to raise a child by yourself.”

  “Watch me.” She stepped toward the door.

  “Don’t try to leave, young lady.”

  She turned back and squared her shoulders. “I’ll have my lawyer contact yours about child support.”

  Jason’s mouth opened, a strange expression on his face, some sort of internal struggle she couldn’t interpret, but Mr. Talbot spoke first. “There will be no child support outside of the marriage.”

  “Bull.”

  She spun around and jerked the door handle, then rushed out.

  “You’ll regret this,” Mr. Talbot shouted.

  Without turning around, she straightened her shoulders, then slammed the door.

  ✽✽✽

  “Well?” Dad said, leaning over his polished desk, voice rising in an impatient tone. “What are you going to do?”

  Do? What was he going to do? His mind bounced from one stunning revelation to another, too many things to process, too much on the line, and no clear way forward. Damn it, he didn’t want to get married. He was enjoying his freedom, his wild adventures, his torrid, short-lived relationships. He didn’t want that to end.

  But it was all about to evaporate if he didn’t do something, and it was clear Dad thought his threats were enough to get some action.

  Oh, hell, they were. If Dad withdrew his support, Jason would have to start from scratch, get a dull job somewhere, try to make enough money to eventually invest and get himself back to where he had been, and that wasn’t going to be easy or pleasant.

  Damn. He should have been investing half the money Dad gave him, but he’d been spending it, thinking it would never end. Well, that was going to change, as soon as he got this woman to change her mind and marry him. He just had to sweet talk her. It would be easy. After all, he had liked her a lot, had sensed she had all the qualities he would have been looking for. He wouldn’t have to make up anything, just tell her what he thought.

  But why, if he had been so attracted to her on the yacht, did he not follow up with her, get her phone number, ask her on a second date, all those kinds of things? Why did he let her go?

  The moment he asked himself the question, he had the answer. She was too good, too attractive, too refreshing in the briny sea of heavy make-up and perfume that usually surrounded him. He somehow knew, deep inside, that he would start wanting her more, and eventually he would end up marrying her. Probably sooner than later. It was a risk he had not wanted to take back then.

  But things were different now.

  “Wait!” he called in the direction where the girl had marched out, his voice higher pitched than he’d intended. She wasn’t there. He rushed through the door, then scurried through the outer office, where the secretary sat smiling as though she enjoyed the comedy.

  Damn it. This wasn’t funny.

  In the main hall, he looked in both directions. Which way did she go? The elevator. He pressed the call button, then rammed his fists into his pockets. If she made it out of the lobby before he got there, he could lose her. He wouldn’t know where to find her.

  Damn, damn, why did the elevator cars take the longest when it was such an emergency?

  Ding. The door opened, metal rasping against rubber seals. He rushed in, pressed his floor selection and then jammed his finger on the door close button.

  Maddeningly, the elevator door waited the required additional seconds before it closed.

  Damn it. Those door close buttons were just there to make a person feel like they had some power. What a joke.

  The elevator stopped on the ninth floor and two other men got on, busy in a conversation about their most recent golf game. Now, Jason needed to act calm, pretend his whole future wasn’t on the line. He gave them a nod, then punched the door close button.

  Again, it stopped on the third floor, and the second. Maybe he should have run down the stairs.

  As soon as they arrived at the first floor and the elevator door was halfway open, he bolted through, into the lobby with its clean lines and checkered tile floor, large windows looking out to the crowded sidewalk. The woman was nowhere in sight. He ran out the door and looked both ways. Nothing.

  He was doomed.

  Well, not quite. His dad would know how to find her. Grabbing his cell phone, he did a quick search through his contacts—Dad was not on the recently called list. “Hey Dad? I’ve lost her. Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Probably gone back to the hotel. She’s got a plane to catch.”

  He got the hotel name, realizing it was only a few blocks away. But she was probably about to check out. There was no time to waste.

  Jason ran into the street and hailed a cab. He gave the dark haired driver the destination, then added, “Hurry!” Tires screeched, followed by a jerk to the left into traffic. Someone honked. A second later, the cabbie rounded the corner without slowing, throwing Jason against the car door. Another acceleration, and then the driver slammed on the breaks, double parking in front of the hotel. Jason threw the driver a large bill. “Keep the change!” Then he rushed into the dingy lobby and stopped. The place smelled like dried mold.

  He hurried to the front desk. “Can I help you?” the desk clerk said. His round cheeks and big eyes gave the impression he was barely sixteen.

  “May I...” Crap. “Never mind.”

  Another call to his dad. “What was her name?”

  “I should have known you wouldn’t remember.”

  “Dad, I don’t have time for this.”

  “You deserve all the problems you get.”

  “Her name. Please.”

  Once Dad finally cooperated, he was ready.

  “I need to talk to Diane Anderson.”

  “You know what her room number is?”

  “No.”

  “Sorry,” the kid said. “I can’t give you her number.”

  “But—”

  “Those are the rules.”

  Jason puffed and started pacing in a truncated course. “But... there’s got to be a way.”

  The kid pointed across the tiny lobby. “You can use the house phone. Give her a call.”

  “Good idea.”

  He hurried to the phone, attached to
the wall like something from the last century. The kid at registration answered. “Yes.”

  What was the matter with this kid? He already knew what Jason wanted. But before Jason spewed a few names at the little smart-ass, he caught himself. No point angering the guy, because then, who would connect him?

  “May I speak to Diane Anderson?”

  “I’ll put you through.”

  He leaned against the wall in the tiny lobby, trying to get his breathing under control. He didn’t want this to sound like an obscene phone call.

  The phone rang.

  He glanced around the lobby and shook his head. This was not the nicest hotel in Manhattan. But that was just like his old man—cheap to the core. Jason would never put up a guest in a place like this.

  Another ring.

  “Hello?”

  Now her voice sounded sweet, not harsh and angry like it had been in the office. Now, the memory of her was starting to come back to him. Sort of.

  “I remember that voice,” he said, using his most charming tone. “So lovely.”

  “What do you want?” Not so lovely anymore.

  Okay. Better to act real. “To talk to you.”

  “I have a plane to catch.”

  “I can have the flight postponed until tomorrow. And I can have you put up in a nicer hotel.”

  “I thought you said you were into real estate.”

  Where did that come from? Oh, yeah, she was questioning his desperation. If he made good money on his own, he wouldn’t need his dad’s money to support himself, and he wouldn’t be desperately trying to get her to listen to him.

  “I want to talk about my child... our child.”

  Silence. Okay, he’d gotten her thinking. Now what?

  “You said you would accept child support.”

  “Um, yes...”

  “And I would like visiting privileges.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  “So, let me take care of your travel, and I’ll get you into a nicer place, and then we can talk over dinner.”

  “This hotel is fine. I don’t need to move.”

  This is a dump, he wanted to say. But best not to argue. “Okay, what time shall I pick you up?”

  CHAPTER 3

  Diane shook her head in amazement as they entered the restaurant. Jason seemed to be going all out. Or perhaps it was his normal way of doing things, and he didn’t realize how ostentatious he was. He had picked her up in a chauffeur-driven limousine, the inside of the car so quiet they might as well have been in a bubble. The driver had opened the door for them, helped her out of the car, the whole bit. Always before, it had been a date doing that, if it even got done.

  Once they were inside… oh, heavens, the décor was over-the-top fancy, crown molding two feet wide, gold filigree on the wallpaper, pillars molded in the shape of Greek columns… it was a lot of eye candy. Too much to take in.

  The maître d’ met them near the entrance. “Ah, welcome Mr. Talbot. Right this way.”

  Wow, she’d never had that happen, either, to be recognized without even a word of introduction. Jason lived in a strange world.

  Their table was twice as large as any two-person table she’d ever seen, and it was situated in a cozy corner, not part of a line-up of tables against the wall. Fragrant flowers spilled over the sides of a small vase, and candles flickered near each place setting, wafting the smell of burned wax into the air. Her water goblet hugged a white cloth napkin, folded like a fan and stuffed into the glass.

  The waiter was there immediately, picking up her napkin and placing it on her lap, followed by an assistant who filled the goblet with water. Oo, such service.

  She picked up the menu. Normally, she would have been extremely price conscious, so as not to go over whatever her date could afford. But after all this, there were no reasons to hold back. And all the prices were through the ceiling, anyway.

  After they’d ordered, the waiter brought a bottle of champagne, and he and Jason went through the ceremony of tasting it to make certain it was acceptable. The waiter filled both their glasses. She picked up her flute, and Jason lifted his toward hers. “To a successful negotiation.”

  She allowed the glasses to clink and tried to make eye contact, but he was looking at… her mouth.

  “So,” she said as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, “what kind of child support did you have in mind?” Better he make the first offer, or she would under-bid and get less than she needed.

  Jason stared at his candle, the flickering light reflecting off his eyes, giving him an angelic appearance. Oh, how visions could lie. “Do I remember right?” he said finally. “You’re going to be a psychologist?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t going to acknowledge that he was right, that his ability to remember something about her meant, perhaps, he had paid attention to her when they’d first met. She wasn’t going to give him any benefit of the doubt. “What does my career have to do with anything?”

  He grinned. “You are a tough negotiator. You should be in business. You’d make millions.”

  Flattery wasn’t going to work on her, either. “I assume you’ll want your child to live comfortably.”

  “Do you know the gender yet?”

  Damn him, why did he keep evading the subject? “Next month. Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “There’s no guarantee they’ll see the relevant parts on the ultrasound. Some babies are modest, you know.”

  His eyes sparkled, and this time it wasn’t from the candles. “They have personalities even before they’re born?”

  “We can’t really say that.”

  “But still… I can’t believe I have a child.”

  “You look pleased.” It was unlikely he actually was. This whole baby thing was going to put a big cramp in his lifestyle.

  “Strange. I know.” His eyes swiveled to gaze into hers, earnest, intense, dark. “It’s like magic.”

  Her stomach swooned. She looked away, angry at herself. After everything he had done—no, make that everything he had not done—how could she allow herself to still feel this attraction to him? Magic, alright, that she should still feel so drawn to him. And it put her in a dangerous position. She had to make certain he knew she wasn’t going to give in on the marriage thing.

  She glanced at the champagne. She’d only drunk a sip. She wasn’t going to let another drop pass her lips. “Can we get back to the subject at hand?”

  He nodded briskly, blond hair flopping onto his forehead. “Right. Yes. Visitation rights.”

  She laughed under her breath, a soft hissing sound. Who was he kidding? “You’re too busy. When will you have time to visit?”

  He twisted his face into a confused expression. “Busy?”

  “Yeah, with all your parties, and girlfriends, and jetting around the world.”

  “I’m giving up all the girlfriends,” he said, voice sounding proud.

  That was like an eagle claiming to give up its talons, or a wolf its teeth. She couldn’t imagine it. “I guess that’ll just leave you with your hand.”

  His face turned red.

  “Sorry,” she said. “That was crude.”

  “I deserved it,” he said, his face now solemn.

  And then the waiter arrived with their food, and the conversation died. She smiled at the man, but it was an uncomfortable expression. She wasn’t enjoying the silence.

  After the waiter left, Jason picked up his silverware—and damned if it wasn’t silver—and cut off a bite of meat. That was when she realized how hungry she was, and she quickly did the same. It was several more minutes before they were ready to lean back and talk again.

  “Listen,” he said. “I think we should at least get to know each other.”

  Her eyes squinted. “Are you back to the marriage thing again?”

  “I haven’t eliminated the possibility, like you have. I mean, there’s a small chance we could fall in love.”

  “Infinitesimally sma
ll.”

  “What? Am I some kind of creep? Do I have a tick that bothers you?”

  “You have a habit that bothers me.”

  He waited, but after a few seconds, the silence was annoying. “Spit it out.”

  “One-night stands.”

  “Oh.”

  “Without even warning the woman involved that that’s all you want.”

  “Um…”

  “Without caring about what emotional havoc you’ve wreaked in her life.”

  “Oh, God.” He put his forehead in his hand, leaned the elbow on the table, and closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “And it takes the threat of all your money going away to get you to alter your ways. That doesn’t paint an endearing picture.”

  “I can change.” He lifted his head and gave her a wobbly smile.

  “I’m studying psychology. I know how difficult it is for people to change.”

  His chest caved in, and then he turned his face so far around that Diane couldn’t see it.

  Damn. Maybe she was being too hard on him. “Difficult, but not impossible.”

  He looked back at her, his eyes moist. “I mean it.”

  “We’d have to take some time getting to know each other,” Diane said. “I’m not about to do a marriage of convenience.”

  “Understood.”

  “And don’t try slathering the charm on me. I’ve been burned by that already.”

  “Right.” He gave out a breathy laugh. “Still driving the hard bargain.”

  “It’s my life we’re talking about here. I have to protect myself.”

  “Okay. So, if we’re going to spend time together and not disrupt your life, I need to know where you live, so I can come there.”

  “Near Dallas, Texas.”

  “Okay. Great.” He gave her another broad grin, but then, his face turned solemn. “Now, I need to check with my father to make sure he’s willing to give us the time we need.”

  ✽✽✽

  “I did the best I could,” Jason said. Talking to that dour face was so difficult. Looking him in the eyes was even harder. It gave Jason the chills.

  “No, you just want to drag this out,” his father said, pounding his bony fist on his desk. As though he thought that was going to make an impression.