He supposed he had no choice now but to wait for her response to his proposal. It was her move.
He could think of only one way to tip the odds in his favor. One way to obliterate what he'd said and make it her decision to marry him and have the baby be born a Whittaker… unpressured by his ownership of Donovan Construction and by his money.
He reached for the phone and dialed his lawyer.
He'd just finished the call when a booming voice from the reception area caught his attention.
Just what he needed. Another unexpected visitor. He was still recovering from Allison's “visit” that morning. When he got to the reception area, however, he came to a dead halt.
It had been a few years, but he still recognized the burly Irishman.
Elizabeth's father. Great timing.
“Mr. Donovan.” He made his tone respectful.
Patrick Donovan turned from Celine and raised bushy eyebrows. Although Quentin had the height advantage by a good two inches in his estimate, the older man was still able to look him in the eyes.
“Now, now, lad. We're practically family. I'll have none of that Mr. Donovan stuff. It's Patrick.”
“Er—Patrick then.”
Elizabeth's father nodded toward Celine, who'd risen from her desk chair. “I was just tellin' this beautiful lady that I was here to see you but I didn't have an appointment.”
At the word “beautiful,” Quentin watched in fascination as a shade of pink stained Celine's cheeks.
Well, well. Looked like his longtime secretary might have met her match in the charm department.
Quentin gestured behind him to his office. “You don't need an appointment,” he said smoothly. “Come on in.”
“Don't mind if I do.”
“Celine, hold my calls.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Patrick preceded him into his office and Quentin walked to the minibar set up in an alcove. “It's early, but can I get you anything?” He felt like a scotch himself.
Patrick settled himself in a leather chair at right angles to the couch. “Scotch. On the rocks. It's early but not early enough.”
Quentin poured scotch into two glasses and handed one to Patrick. “I'm going to guess that Elizabeth doesn't know you've come to see me.”
“And you'd be right.” They both downed some scotch. “Always knew you were a quick study.”
Quentin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, nursing his glass between two hands. “What did she tell you?” he asked, testing.
“Just that she'd finally broken the news about the baby to you.”
So his marriage proposal hadn't reached Patrick's ears. He figured she wouldn't tell her father until her mind was made up. No use raising false hopes.
“Can't say I was happy to hear my daughter was pregnant out of wedlock.”
Quentin nodded, wondering if Elizabeth had ever told her father about her medical condition. The answer appeared to be no, so he just kept silent. Heck, even her medical condition didn't explain why he was the one who'd impregnated her.
“What's done is done, however.” A smile suddenly creased Patrick's face. “And a grandbaby is a grandbaby.”
Quentin sipped the scotch. Well, at least he had Patrick's approval in one direction.
“Mind you, I won't see Liz hurt. But I've got a feeling that you two will work out your problems.”
Quentin wished he were that optimistic. He cleared his throat. “Has she said anything to you about Donovan Construction?”
Patrick's brows snapped together. “Yes, breathing fire and brimstone last time I talked to her about it.”
Quentin grimaced.
“'Course I was pleased as punch about that part at least.” Patrick's brows lifted. “Bringing the company back into the family, so to speak.” The older man leaned forward suddenly. “You would pass on Donovan Construction to the baby, wouldn't you?”
“It's part of the baby's heritage as far as I'm concerned. I wouldn't sell it.” He paused. “Whether Elizabeth accepts my marriage proposal or not.”
Patrick sat back, satisfied. “Glad we see eye to eye.”
And Quentin was beginning to see even more. And to understand just why Elizabeth had been so angry about the whole Donovan Construction business. Her father obviously saw the company as an added little dividend to becoming a grandfather.
He cleared his throat. He had to tread carefully here. “She wants to be respected for her accomplishments, not for whom she married.” If she agreed to marry him, that was, he added silently.
“'Course she wants to be respected for her accomplishments,” Patrick said, calling him back from his thoughts. “Worked damned hard to start that business of hers.” Patrick swirled the golden liquid in his glass.
Quentin thought about the question he wanted to ask, then decided to go ahead and ask it. “Why did you sell Donovan Construction, if I can ask?”
Patrick sighed and settled back in the chair. “Construction's a tough business and it's gotten harder for the little guys to stay afloat. When I retired, selling seemed like the right move. The business had a better chance of surviving as part of a bigger company. Figured I was making the right decision for most of the employees, saving their jobs in the long haul.”
“You never considered having Elizabeth run the company?”
Patrick's frowned. “Good God, no!” The fingers of one hand drummed on the arm of his chair. “Why in the world would she have wanted to get involved in a down-and-dirty business like construction? 'Sides, she was building a nice career for herself in architecture.”
“Maybe because there was a little company with the name 'Donovan' stuck on it.” Quentin took a sip of his scotch and regarded the older man steadily over the rim of the glass. He was treading on dangerous territory, but he knew he needed some answers if he was ever going to build a lasting relationship with Elizabeth.
Patrick was silent for a minute, digesting the information he'd been given. “Would have been a fool's errand, in any case. As I said, the company wasn't viable on its own in the long run. Not the way the construction business was going.”
Quentin nodded in agreement. “Did you ever talk to Elizabeth about your motivation for selling?”
Patrick sighed. “No, I don't think I ever did. I guess I should have.” Gazing out the window, he added, “Wouldn't have wanted her to get any silly notion that I was selling because I didn't trust her.”
Quentin gazed out the window, too, relieved that he'd gotten his point across. “The thing is, Elizabeth does have a head for business, she's driven and she's got a vision of what she wants.”