Experiment In Love (17 page)

He began taking the large wooden hairpins from her hair, letting it cascade over his hands and down her back in long, rolling tendrils. “I promise to know you and to love you, to cherish and protect you. I promise to let you make mistakes, to learn, to grow and to let you love me.” His arms finally drew her close to his strong form and he gave a contented sigh as he buried his face in the cloud of hair at her neck. “And if you ever put me through this again
I promise I will beat you within an inch of your life.”

“Male chauvinist!” she chortled.

“You bet,” he retorted “And to prove it, I'm ordering you downstairs to Newstime’s clinic so they can do a blood test, then I want you at my side in the morning so we can apply for a license. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you marry me.”

“If that’s supposed to be a form of punishment, you’ve got a new slant on it!” she chuckled finally sliding his shirt aside so she could inhale the male scent of his skin. “But I’ll
accept it. My mother didn’t raise a dummy.”

His hands tightened on her waist “No, but she made sure you didn’t grow up in time for any man to break down your barriers ... until me. And for that I'm eternally grateful.”
His voice was a low, rough growl and the sound echoed in her ears, resembling like a lion claiming his mate.

The door was locked, the curtains drawn and all talking stopped.  Mr. Kurt Morgan and his bride-to-be were very busy being very untraditional...making love in the private office in the middle of the day.

THE END

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Chapter One from Summer
Song  By Rita Clay

CHAPTER ONE

I won’t allow my brother to hire himself out as a damn stud!” J. T.’s large fist banged down on the wide antique desk top. “I don’t care how many contracts he signs!”

The young, well-dressed attorney behind the desk watched his friend’s anger with sympathetic eyes, realizing just how much of a shock this was. “Calm down, J.T. and let me explain the rest of the agreement to you. Maybe you’ll change your mind. I promised Brandon I’d give it a try, anyway.”

The man called J.T. took an exasperated breath before sitting down in the red leather chair next to the desk. His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets, his mouth tight with anger. He was a rugged, masculine man, perhaps too much so to be handsome. Certainly the right features were all there: deep brown eyes that could turn soft when he looked at women but would be rock-hard when he dealt with business associates; thick, dark hair that was layered to fall back in perfect but casual symmetry. His nose had been broken once or twice, although that only seemed to add to his sex appeal. To clinch his attractiveness, his broad shoulders, trim hips, and muscular thighs were dead giveaways to the fact that he was in peak physical condition. He was two or three inches less than six feet, but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone, including six-foot-tall women. He was
sexy,leashed dynamite, and all women seemed to sense it.

“There’s nothing you can tell me, Mike, which will make me change my decision. This girl can take her money and go find another stud to fill her needs."  He ran a hand through his hair. "Why is she going this route, anyway? Why can’t she just go find some joker willing to bed her and leave while the kid’s too young to go to school alone?”

“First of all, Caro Halter is not some deviant who’s looking for a thrill,” Mike answered patiently. “And your brother is now twenty-two years old and capable of answering for and to himself, contrary to your family’s opinion.  Or he would be if the family allowed him to err a few times. Besides, Caro is looking for a man with the right genes who can give her a child. Period. She doesn’t want anyone to come back to her or to the child ten years from now and say, ‘Remember me?’ Thus the money and the contract.”

“And my brother is the only guy who fills these qualifications, I suppose.” J.T. snorted derisively. “I don’t buy it”

“You don’t have to. Brandon is old enough to make up his own mind, which he did.” Mike waited for the fireworks to flare. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Dammit, Mike! I say no! Brandon isn’t old enough to tie his own shoes, for God’s sake! This job is probably the only thing he’s had experience doing, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn something else! And he wouldn’t have told me about it if he hadn’t wanted me to help him get out of this situation. He’s scared and he’s gotten himself in over his head, that’s all.” His brown eyes narrowed. “How do you know this girl won’t try to blackmail him years from now? Or accuse the rest of the family of not sharing responsibility? What kind of girl would ‘hire’ someone for a job like this?”

“She’s a respected member of the community and a very successful businesswoman. She’s attractive, talented, and very reserved. As for her reasons, I think she’s always wanted children but never found anyone she wanted to marry. Adoption is out of the question. Even married couples have a problem with adoption today, but single parents have it even rougher. As for her trying to contact Brandon in the future, I think it’s obvious that she’s more worried about him finding her.”

“If this gal’s so great, why don’t you apply for the job yourself?” J.T. growled over his shoulder as he stood and walked to the far window to stare out “Seems like the perfect solution to me, since you seem so taken with the idea.”

Mike’s expression showed he was holding on to his temper. “I know too much about Caro for her to be comfortable. She’s been a client of mine for the last five years. She’s worth ten of Brandon and - despite our long friendship – at least two of you! If I could have persuaded her to do otherwise, I would have, believe me.”

J.T. was silent for a moment. When he looked back at his friend, his eyes were glimmering with new purpose. “What about me? If Brandon qualifies, then I certainly must. What would happen if I took Brandon’s place in this fiasco?”

Mike shrugged, not realizing that his friend’s question was a ploy to gain more information about the girl. Worry etched his forehead. “If you wish to meet with her, I can arrange it. However, she’s meeting with Brandon this afternoon.” He stared down at the unopened folder in front of him. “I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with this woman, J.T. There isn’t. She’s intelligent, witty, and beautiful. Only her means to an end are being discussed here, not her morals or ethics, which are far above standard.”

J.T. made a choking noise deep in his throat. “I think anyone could sell you anything if it was wrapped up nice enough. Apparently this girl has pretty paper and her ribbons are in the right places. That doesn’t mean the contents are top quality.”

“It does in this case.” Mike was stubborn. “This woman isn’t like most. She’s different”

J.T. stood. “We’ll see.” His determination to expose the woman was almost as strong as his desire to stop his brother from participating in this crazy scheme. And now there was the added bonus of proving to Mike just how faulty his character judgment was . . . again.

He could get Brandon out of the contract, there was no problem there. But the challenge of the situation was just too strong to be turned down. He would try to persuade her to do things his way; then, when the time was right and before any harm was done, he would walk away, leaving her high and dry. She would lose, Mike would lose, and he would get Brandon out of a scrape in a way that might prove entertaining.

J.T. Cole walked out of the plush law offices of his boyhood friend, practically marched to the elevators, and jabbed the down button.

Thoughts seared through his brain with lightning-fast speed. His mother would be crushed by Brandon’s behavior, despite the fact that she had made him the spoiled youngest child of the Cole family. His other three brothers would have very different reactions, ranging from haughty anger to snickering approval. But it was his father he was really worried about. His father had a tricky heart, as had been proven time and again by small attacks after every one of Brandon’s escapades. This latest problem, coming as a total surprise to the rest of the family and involving the one thing their family held dear— children—could do their father enough harm to provoke a major attack.

Damn Brandon!

Five sons and one daughter were the firm foundation of the Cole family. One word could best be used to describe them—they were all overachievers . . . except for Brandon. In earlier days Brandon had been laughingly referred to as “Brandon the Lazy,” for if he thought there was a way to make money without working, Brandon would work twice as hard at it as any legitimate job would have demanded to achieve that goal.

J.T. stepped aboard the elevator when the doors finally opened. The funny side of the situation was beginning to make itself known. His anger had even simmered down enough to let him appreciate the insinuating looks of the two secretaries who were traveling down to street level with him. Before he stepped off he gave each of them a warm smile, showing to advantage the curl of his upper lip and the fullness of his chiseled mouth.

It would work out. He’d play her along, like he had often done with catfish on the hook when he went fishing. Mike had inadvertently disclosed the hotel she had chosen to stay at, which should make her easy to find, since single women staying there weren’t that plentiful. It should be simple to spot her, especially if he could get a description of her from Brandon. Brandon was always easy to pump for answers, perhaps because he had always been rewarded for giving them. And right now he wanted out of this situation. He must, or he wouldn’t finally have “confessed” to J.T.

Suddenly J.T. felt like whistling. He had almost forgotten that he had a date to take Candice out that night. She was easy on the eye but undemanding enough to allow him to think of other, more important things while he entertained her. Perhaps he’d take her to the Utah Hotel for dinner

Caro’s first thought after she walked through the heavy glass doors of Salt Lake City’s most famous hotel was that he looked so young! She quickly scanned the plush lobby, searching for some other young man in faded jeans and an even more faded green knit shirt who could fit the description her attorney had given her, but there was no one else who looked even remotely similar.

He was slumped against one of the huge gray marble pillars, looking like an imitation of Samson holding up the mezzanine with his muscled, athletic body. His expression showed him to be filled with both worry and youthful impatience.

She took a deep breath and approached him, knowing that her calm exterior would hide her nervousness. “Brandon Cole?” she questioned. Standing before him in her tottery high heels she came, just barely, to the level of his broad shoulders.

She held out her hand, determined to keep control of the interview. “I’m Carolyn.” His young face was blank, with only a flicker of interest in his pale brown eyes to show that he even noticed the petite but intensely feminine woman standing in front of him. “I’m the person you came here to meet,” she reminded him with a touch of dryness in her tone.

He flushed a dull red, standing straighter instead of slouching, suddenly showing the uneasiness she had expected all along.

His hand was cold and clammy, his clasp weak. Not good, but not an inherited trait. She turned and scanned the lobby for a private conversational area, and found one immediately.

“Shall we sit over here?” She guided him to the spot she had selected. Was she going to have to guide him every step of the way? She hoped not! She wasn’t that familiar with the ways of sin herself!

He gestured nervously, the sweep of his hand encompassing the entire lobby, with its marble, its plush red-velvet draperies, and its Persian carpets. It was the oldest hotel in Salt Lake City and certainly one of the finest, almost as revered a landmark as the Mormon Temple and grounds across the street “Beautiful hotel.” His voice was an octave higher than it had sounded on the telephone earlier.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Perhaps he needed a little time to get his bearings. “Did you bring the papers from Dr. Sanders?”

He reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and offered it to her, his eyes lighting on her face for the first time since they had introduced themselves. His eyes seemed to take in her appearance all at once. Her dark golden-blond hair was loose, hanging in waves to her shoulders and framing her oval face. Her silvery brown eyes were delicately tinted with the same color eye shadow, making her seem slightly mysterious. Her figure, although she was small in stature, was perfectly formed.

“Why are you doing this?” He sounded perplexed, inquisitive. “You’re good-looking for an older woman. You certainly have more going for you than most of the girls I know.
Charm, polish, a sexy body. Any guy’d be crazy not to want to fall into bed with you. Why me?”

She mentally winced at his crudeness, especially the “older woman” comment. But from his youthful point of view, she was over the hill. Ouch.

The paper remained folded on her hand for a moment while she took another deep breath. He deserved an answer. Besides, he might as well know now, since it looked as if he was her best choice.

She ignored her own trepidation. After all her hours of intense soul-searching, this was the only answer she had come up with. It didn’t matter that she had doubts herself. It was the end result that mattered most. She would finally have a family to call her own.

“First of all, this is to be done by artificial insemination, so no one has to ‘fall into bed’ with anyone. But, to answer the rest of your question, I’m thirty-five years old and I’ve decided I want a child without the encumbrance of a husband. I also want a bright child, free of many of the inherited illness. If I find the right male surrogate I’ve eliminated whatever problems that I can for the sake of the child.” Her smile was bright and brittle, hiding her own indecision. She had made her choice and now she was moving to carry it out.

“And I’m it?” A smirk suddenly appeared on his face, but it wasn’t inherited, either. It came from being young and virile and good-looking in a society that paid too much attention to such things and not enough to the qualities that lay underneath a handsome shell.

“We don’t know that yet, do we?” She eyed him with an even gaze that had intimidated businessmen more than once. His smirk washed away, to be replaced with a dull flush. Her hands were unfolding the paper even before she glanced down. She scanned the printed words. Yes, he was in perfect health; yes, he was male and over twenty-one . . . barely. Yes, he had had the usual childhood diseases but none of the debilitating ones that could be inherited. Neither, apparently, had his parents, four brothers, and one sister. Everything was in order. His genes had been tested and found just fine for her baby.

Now
came the questions. In a very businesslike tone Caro began requesting, even demanding, the answers she wanted.

“Do you need the fee I’ll be paying you for your services?”

“Yes.” His voice turned sullen.