Her eyes widened at the implied threat. “That would be breach of contract—”
“Even if you could afford to sue, which we both know you can't,” he continued, his voice holding a touch of steel, “I could afford a settlement. But it might take a while to negotiate.”
He didn't need to add what they both knew. She couldn't afford to wait for a settlement. Suddenly she understood why Quentin had the business reputation he had—he had earned it. And now she was the target of his ruthless business methods.
But something about the set, closed look he wore made her check her temper and, instead, study him, tensed for her answer.
He'd been hurt in the past, she knew, and he was clearly going to protect himself from being that vulnerable to a woman again. That had obviously led him to the conclusion that he ought to bargain with her as he would deal with a business rival. Just as he'd originally tried to strike a deal with her for a baby and a marriage of convenience. A deal that had gone hopelessly awry and landed them… here.
Armed with that realization, she found herself asking, “What are you suggesting?”
“Marry me.”
Her heart leapt, but she forced her voice to remain level. “Why?”
“You're having my baby, that's why.”
“That doesn't mean you have to marry me.”
He frowned. “In my book it does.” He regarded her intently. “I've thought about this from all the angles, and this is the best solution. We'll get married—at least until after the baby is born.”
When she started to protest, he held up his hand. “Hear me out. It's best for you, me, and the baby. We'll go through with the original plan but this time we'll do it for the short haul. I want the baby to be born a Whittaker. And my parents will get the grandchild they've been pining for, and which they think it's my duty to produce legitimately.”
She couldn't resist asking, “What do I get?”
He paused for a second, as if the question had caught him off guard. “You get peace of mind. Financial support to make sure the baby is always well cared for. Financial support to make sure Precious Bundles stays afloat until you can focus on it again.”
Liz repressed a twinge of hurt. She'd known he was treating this like a financial bargain. What had she expected? she silently scolded herself. A declaration of undying love?
Aloud, she said coolly, “I'll think about it.”
When he didn't respond—didn't even move a muscle, actually—she started feeling uncomfortable. “Have you finished?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, dammit! I haven't.” Before she could register what he was about, he grabbed her arms and his mouth came down on hers in a hard kiss. He made sure she felt all of his frustration before setting her roughly back away from him.
“Let me know when you've thought about it,” he bit out before turning and striding away.
* * *
I'll think about it?
Quentin thought he'd never dealt with a more contrary female in his life. And that was saying something, considering who he was related to!
He ached just looking at her, wanting to strip her na**d and make love to her thoroughly, and all she could do was look at him with those amazing green-gold eyes and say coolly, I'll think about it?
Okay, yeah, maybe he should have told her about owning Donovan Construction. At first he hadn't thought it was important and then he'd delayed telling her until it was too late.
He gazed out of the windows of his office, his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets. He could see the office towers across the highway, part of the hi-tech corridor outside Carlyle, and, more distantly, the green of verdant hills. He often liked to chew on a problem this way, contemplating the distant Massachusetts landscape.
He'd bungled the plan, of course. He'd meant to approach Elizabeth with infallible logic. Persuade her that getting married was the best option.
But instead of making her see how much she needed him to keep Precious Bundles going while she had their baby, he'd used—he winced as his mind flirted with the dirty word—blackmail.
Once she'd started again on not needing his money, his response had been driven by pure male need for dominance and control.
Except was that really it? No, it was his need for her, he realized, that had made him lose his head. Her and the baby, of course. For he realized, he wanted this baby—his baby and Elizabeth's—with an intensity that surprised him.
If only the darn woman would cooperate with his plan to set things right.
To add insult to injury, his whole family seemed to have taken sides and they weren't flying the Whittaker colors.
His thoughts drifted back to that morning when his sister had stalked into his office unannounced. She'd been angry and had let him have a piece of her mind. It was her parting shot that had stayed with him all day however.
Allison had jabbed a finger into his chest and had accused, “You tried to bully her into accepting your terms! You threw money at her because you think she's just like Vanessa and that's all she's interested in. Isn't that right?”
“Are you nuts?” he'd growled back, still sensitive about his admittedly deplorable behavior and quasi-blackmail of Elizabeth. “I wouldn't use their names in the same sentence.”
“Why should I believe you?”
When he failed to respond, Allison had stalked out, leaving him to chew over her question.
He gazed at the landscape in front of him now. And thought about Allison's question again.
Why?
Because it was ridiculous, that's why. Vanessa represented everything he abhorred. She was greedy and manipulative. And she'd taught him a tough lesson in life and love.
He paused and puzzled over that.
Love? Had he really loved Vanessa?
The feelings he'd had for her paled in comparison to those he felt for Elizabeth. In fact, he'd spent the past three days in purgatory waiting for Elizabeth to decide either to open the gates of paradise to him or… well, the alternative didn't bear contemplating.
So why did he persist in believing Vanessa had betrayed his love, while believing he didn't love Elizabeth?
Realization dawned like the sun spreading its rays across a new morning sky.
He was afraid of the power Elizabeth would have over him if he admitted anything he felt for her came close to being spelled l-o-v-e. If Vanessa had hurt him, Elizabeth's ability to wound him would be enough to send him to his knees.
But dammit. He did love Elizabeth. And it was because she was the antithesis of Vanessa. She was caring, sweet, vulnerable.
His family thought he was the bad guy, but the truth was, he hadn't been able to put Elizabeth out of his mind. His thoughts had an alarming tendency to drift off during conference calls at work, meetings with clients—in fact, just about anywhere.