His Wife for a While (4 page)

"Aunt May, please," Ben pleaded. He stood up and moved toward his aunt. "Why don't you go mind the register? And let me talk to
Chelsea
. Please."

Ushering his great aunt out into the hallway, Ben nodded a farewell, stepped back into
Chelsea
's office and firmly closed the door behind him. He shook his head at May's muffled but indignant
harumph
.
Chelsea
was still too nervous to return his smile.

"Now," Ben said. "Where were we? I think you had just offered to marry me."

"Of course, there would be stipulations,"
Chelsea
pointed out.

"Of course," Ben said.

He looked overwhelmed, stunned really, and she suspected he would agree to give her the world right now if she had a mind to ask for it. Lucky for him she didn't want the whole world. Just a small…

Really?
the silent voice in her head intoned.
Are you being honest with yourself? What you're looking for will become your whole world and you know it.

"There must be a time limit to the union," she blurted out, her tone surprisingly cool and professional. "We could stay married for say... six months. You'll probably be required to send a copy of our marriage certificate to the lawyers and there may be some other legalities involved." Her head tilted to one side as she said, "But six months should be long enough to take care of any legal aspects that might arise, don't you think?"

Ben could only nod vaguely. He watched her nibble on her full lower lip.

"You're willing to marry me just like that?" he asked. "With no strings attached? I'll tell you, Chelsea, I just don't get it."

"Well, actually... there
are
some strings attached." She hurried to specify, "One string, actually. Only one."

Suspicion coiled in him, dangerous as a snake with sharp teeth. She could see it, feel it.

"What is it you want,
Chelsea
? What do you expect to get out of this
marriage
?"

The way he said the word made her gasp.

"I don't want money, if that's what you're thinking. And I don't want any of your land. Reed's Orchard shouldn't be owned by anyone but a Reed, and that's
you
."

After a moment he said, "So? What is it you're looking for?"

Chelsea
saw doubt and distrust written all over him; in his expressive green eyes, in the set of his smooth-shaven jaw, in his rigid shoulders, in his tightly clenched fists.

This was her moment, her chance. All the dreams she'd ever imagined could come true. All the hopes she'd ever had could be fulfilled… if she could just handle these next three seconds right.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she gathered every bit of inner strength she had. She inhaled slowly and deeply. Finally, she looked Ben directly in the eye and tipped up her chin.

"I want a baby."

Chapter Two

Ben sat for a moment, shocked to the point of speechlessness. Surely he hadn't heard right. He simply couldn't have heard her correctly.

There were so many things she could have asked for. A lump sum of money. A partnership in the business. The deed to the small house that she lived in rent-free as part of her compensation.

But he'd never have guessed that she wanted a... that she wanted him to...

No. He simply hadn't heard her correctly. But before he could ask, however, she slowly and succinctly repeated her demand.

"I want a baby."

Chelsea
's spine was stiff and she sat there frozen in her chair, obviously waiting for him to respond. But the four little words that had slipped from her mouth had dumbfounded him. Hell, he'd been walking around feeling dazed since attending the reading of his grandfather's will. This off-kilter state ought to have started feeling pretty natural by now, but it hadn't. And
Chelsea
was proving to him that there were deeper depths of confusion to be explored.

"I..." he began. Then he clamped his lips shut, his green gaze shifting toward the ceiling and then back to her. "I don't know what to say."

"I have everything all figured out," she said.

Chelsea
knew she must explain her idea in a clear, straightforward manner. Otherwise, he wouldn't understand, or worse, he would misunderstand and she'd lose her only chance of having her dream.

A baby. Lord, she wanted a baby so badly she would do just about anything...
anything
…

But she had to keep her mind on the task of explaining herself to Ben.

Inhaling deeply, she continued, "As I said, I have everything worked out. I'll marry you, thereby fulfilling the terms of John's will. Reed's Orchard will belong to you. And there will be no more threat of the business being sold."

Her gaze lowered to the desk top. "I think we should move in together. That way, making the... baby... will be a little easier."

The intimate images that thought brought to mind made her whole body grow warm with embarrassment. Closing her eyes, she took a few seconds to compose herself before plowing forward. "I suggest I move in with you," she said, her gaze still glued to the blotter on her desk. "Simply because your house is bigger, and it will mean less of an upset for you."

She took a deep breath, and noticing that her hands had begun to shake, she tucked them in her lap.

"As I said before, I'll remain your wife until all the legal aspects of the will are straightened out." She looked at him and tried to smile, but the result felt plastic, fake. "Oh, and while I'm living with you, I do need to become…" her face flamed and she averted her eyes again "…well, you know. The six-month time frame I mentioned before should give us plenty of time to solve both our problems."

"Six months," Ben said, evidently having found his tongue. "What if there are problems?"

"Problems?"

"What if you don't become... well, you know... within the six-month time limit?" he asked. "It's been known to happen."

"I'd be willing to extend the marriage to a year," she said, then quickly added, "in that case."

"Well, what if all those charities that stand to benefit from the sale of Reed's Orchard see this marriage as just what it is?" Ben propped one ankle on his other knee. "A desperate attempt on my part to keep my business. What if they band together, hire a bunch of lawyers and sue? The case could have a life span of…" he exhaled derisively "…
years
." His gaze locked with hers. "What then?"

She couldn't read the message behind his words. Was he mocking her? Making fun of her offer? Or simply stating an honest fear? She couldn't tell.

"The clause in your grandfather's will didn't stipulate that you had to marry for love." She was helpless against the sarcastic tone in which she'd stated the final word of her comment. "It's no one's business why we're getting married."

Chelsea
straightened in her seat. "Anyway, maybe you're looking for trouble where no trouble exists. I really don't feel there will be any questions asked. Why should there be when you're fulfilling the stipulation?"

She rubbed her hands over the soft, worn fabric of her jeans. "There are other more important aspects of this that I think you should question, Ben. Such as your obligation to this baby as its father. And... the inheritance angle."

Watching his eyebrows jump, she knew she'd gotten his attention.

"Don't worry," she assured him quietly. "I've thought it all out. I don't expect anything from you, Ben. Well," she stumbled over her next thought, "except for the initial... act of... well... you know." She felt her cheeks flood with color and hated herself for the reaction. "What I mean is, you'll father this baby but… you won't be its father. In fact, if everything goes as I've planned, I won't even be here when the baby is born."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Where will you be?"

"I've lived extremely frugally over the years. I've some money saved. Enough to set me and the baby up somewhere else."

"So, you'll be leaving town?"

She licked her lips. "Certainly not until I know for sure that your ownership of the orchard is no longer in question. I promise you that much."

Chelsea
had meant for the statement to be an assurance, but Ben didn't look the least assured.

"And what about 'the inheritance angle,' as you so casually put it?" he asked.

"I don't want anything that belongs to you. I'll sign anything your lawyer draws up." She swallowed. "But I'll have to ask that you do the same."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She emphasized the tiny word with firm nod. "I'll want you to sign over all parental rights."

Chelsea
felt pierced by those sharp green eyes as they narrowed on her. She tolerated his stare for as long as she could before dipping her head.

Why was he dragging his feet? she wondered. What was his hesitation? You'd think she was asking for the world.
Chelsea
's stomach tightened painfully as she discovered she was asking for the world.
Her
world. And she wouldn't give up easily.

She looked him directly in the eye. "Ben, I'm not trying to trap you. I'm only trying to offer you a deal. You'll have your orchard and I'll have my baby."

The last few words sounded strangled with suppressed emotion, and
Chelsea
clamped her lips together when she saw him frown.

You've spoiled everything, she silently railed at herself. She knew very well that when she showed emotion… and she'd certainly raised the curtain on her desperation just now… that the only consequence was hurt and humiliation for her.

"You certainly have planned this well," he observed, his tone bordering somewhere between anger and sarcasm.

"Look, Ben," she said coolly. "I'm only offering you a solution to your problem. You can't fault me for wanting something for my trouble."

"
Something for your trouble?
I can't believe some of the things you're saying." He stood up, paced to the door and turned back to face her. "We're talking about a child here,
Chelsea
. We're talking about a human life. We're not swapping baseball cards."

Chelsea
swallowed around the nervous tension constricting her throat. "I know what we're talking about. Don't you think I've thought long and hard about this?" Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips again. "I know exactly what I'm asking. Why do you think it's taken me nearly two weeks to ask? The question is, do you want to keep Reed's Orchard or not? Do you want this deal or not?"

His strong tanned hands clasped the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. When he finally spoke, his voice revealed the terrific amount of bewilderment he was evidently feeling.

"I really don't understand this.
Chelsea
, you're a young woman. You can't be more than twenty-five or twenty-six…"