Then again, this child would have a mother who did love and want it.
That’s where things would be different. She’d give her child all the love she’d never received from her own mother. And twice that amount to equal its missing father.
“There’s also the money,” he continued. “Don’t forget about the five million dollar settlement you’ll receive when the marriage ends. You and your child will never want for anything.”
“Money isn’t relevant. I have everything I need right now.” The things she’d craved, had always desired, had very little to do with money.
So why was she contemplating doing this? To help Ryan, of course.
She’d do anything for him, and always had. That was her job, wasn’t it?
Face it. Her job was her life. She was pathetic.
“It all sounds fine, Mr. McKay.”
“I think it’s time you called me Ryan.”
“All right. Ryan.” How strange, after all these years, to call him by his first name.
“Then it’s settled.”
“Umm, there’s just one more thing.”
He waited.
The sex thing still nagged at her. She was hesitant to broach the subject, but the mere thought of it caused nausea to rise up in her throat. She had to bring it up. “Before we continue, we need to discuss the sex part.”
“What about the sex part?”
How was she going to approach this? She’d never asked Ryan McKay for anything the entire time she’d worked for him. And now she was going to mess with his intentions for this agreement.
“Sex is something I don’t take lightly. It means something to me. A sharing of feelings, of deep emotion.”
His eyes narrowed and turned an icy gray. “I don’t have feelings, Faith. For you or anyone else. Don’t mistake any physical desire I may show as emotion or caring. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”
She’d already surmised that, even though his nearness unnerved her, awakened yearnings she’d never had before. He was right about biology and sex. She could already picture them naked together, their bodies entwined in a ritual older than both of them. But not tonight.
“I know. But still, I’d like a little time. It may be purely physical and unemotional for you, Ryan, but sex will never be that way for me. I’m sorry, but I’m just not ready.”
Ryan looked at his watch, his face drawn into a hard line. Guilt punched her in the gut. She’d disappointed him. But what could she do?
“What kind of time frame are you talking about?” he asked.
How about forever? Okay, that wasn’t realistic. But she’d take as much as he would give. She needed time to figure out how she could allow him to make love to her without leaving feelings behind when it was over. “Three months.”
“I had hoped to have you pregnant in three months.”
She’d always been impressed by his confidence. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it right away. Everything else in the agreement looks fine. But I have to have three months.”
“I’ll give you two.”
Two months. At least it would buy her some time to adjust. “Fine.
Two months.”
“Do we have an agreement?”
Not quite the proposal of marriage Faith had always dreamed of, but then again her life hadn’t turned out like she’d imagined either. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Great. I’ll get Stan up here right away with a new contract.”
Cell phone against his ear, he’d already dismissed her. Not surprising. She knew what she was getting into when she agreed to this, so she shouldn’t be disappointed at the lack of romance in his proposal.
This was the way their marriage would be, and she’d made the bargain with her eyes wide open.
After all, to Ryan it was nothing personal. But to Faith, it was much more. She had just agreed to sign over her life, and if she wasn’t careful, her heart, to Ryan McKay.
Chapter Two
Faith pored over the wedding dresses the ladies from the boutique had brought over. The last hour had been a whirlwind of activities, from signing the contract to selecting a dress. She wanted to pinch herself to be certain this wasn’t all a dream—some fantasy she’d concocted in her mind about the wedding she’d always wanted but never thought she’d have.
She glanced at Ryan. He seemed perfectly at ease, leaning against the bar and sipping a drink. “How did they know what sizes to bring?” she asked.
He shrugged, clearly uninterested in the dress selection. “I looked at you and made a guess.”
Good guess. But how had he known? She thought he never looked at her. She felt his eyes on her now, watching as she chose a dress.
The sequin and pearl tulle gown she selected had a satin bodice and dropped shoulders. The waist was snug and led to a bell skirt that looked like something Cinderella would wear. The veil had a tiara with the same pearls and sequins as the dress.
As a child she’d dreamed of her wedding day—what little girl hadn’t?
Never in her wildest imaginings would it have been anything this grand.
She was the princess on her way to the ball. There was even a handsome prince waiting for her.
The ladies of the boutique laid out a selection of shoes, stockings and undergarments. Faith selected a pair of satin pumps and some decadent silk underthings. Not like she had much choice. Didn’t these people make anything out of cotton?
Ryan approached her. “I’ve made arrangements for the court clerk to issue our marriage license immediately. You’ve got about a half hour to get ready. I’ll be back to get you.” He placed his empty glass on the bar and headed toward the door.
She nodded and he left. So much for acting the part of the prince. It was time to get a grip. This was business, not a fairy tale. And she had a half hour to turn from dowdy secretary to blushing bride. It was a good thing her hair was already up and she didn’t wear makeup.
Elma and Vivian from the bridal shop offered to stay and help her dress. She was grateful, because her hands shook so badly she couldn’t have buttoned a thing. The tiny pearl buttons from the scoop back all the way down below her rear end were impossible for her to reach. She’d have never gotten into it by herself.
As she slipped on the strapless satin bra, Faith was embarrassed that Ryan had guessed at her small cup size. She released a wistful sigh at her minimal dimensions and silently thanked Ryan for helping her avoid the mortification of having to stuff socks in some dress that was too big. She’d stopped doing that when she was twelve after her mother found out and chastised her for trying to be something she wasn’t.