Caroline Cross - Cinderella's Tycoon

Susan stared at him. It was clear from his implacable expression that he meant every word he said. Still, the whole idea was crazy. Marriage was meant to be the kind of loving, trusting relationship her parents had enjoyed, not an alternative to being sued, for heaven’s sake.

Still, he was right about one thing. In the best of all possible worlds, a child should have two parents to love it. Not that she agreed with his crazy proposal. She couldn’t possibly marry him. The whole idea was preposterous.

Yet his expression made it clear that he expected her to acquiesce. “I—I’ll need some time to think about it,” she hedged instead, trying to buy herself some time until she could come up with a better solution.

His eyes narrowed. “No. Nothing is going to change, and I don’t want people counting on their fingers when our child is born. It’s going to be touch and go as it is.”

“But what if something happens? It’s still early in the pregnancy yet. Something could go wrong...”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens.”

“Oh, but—”

“Look, I’m not exactly wild about this myself.” For half a second, a bleak look came over his face. Then his expression hardened. “But it is the best solution. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not some sort of wife beater or anything. I promise I’ll take good care of you and the baby. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but still...”

“Yes or no?” he said intractably.

“I...”

“Choose.”

Oh! What should she do? Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to envision marriage to Sterling—and failed. She had no trouble, however, picturing the two of them in court. In her mind, she could see him surrounded by high-priced lawyers as some faceless judge banged a gavel down and awarded him custody of her baby. “I...I—yes,” she whispered.

“Good.” He was suddenly brusque. “How does tomorrow sound to you?”

Her eyes popped open. “For what?”

“The ceremony. Judge Lester’s a friend of mine. I’m sure he’ll be glad to do it.”

“But I have to work!”

“Call in and tell them you quit,” he commanded. “I’ve got more than enough money for the both of us, and in your condition you shouldn’t be on your feet anyway.”

She gazed at him in shock, stunned by how casually he was rearranging her entire life. “But—but—I can’t!”

“You have family you need to call? Just tell me who it is, and I’ll have them flown in.”

“No,” she said faintly. “There’s nobody.”

He crossed his arms. “Then what’s the holdup?”

“It’s...” She tried desperately to think of an answer other than it’s too soon, pretty certain it would get her nowhere. “I don’t have anything to wear,” she said lamely.

“Huh.” Without another word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a money clip, peeled off some bills and thrust them at her. “Here.”

“Oh; no. I can’t—”

“Take it.” His gaze touched briefly on her dress, then came back to her face. “Go out and buy yourself something pretty.”

“Oh, but—”

“Unless something changes, I’ll come by tomorrow at twelve forty-five to pick you up.”

She thought of all the things she had to do. She’d have to call her landlord, her boss and the clinic. Luckily the house had come furnished, but the refrigerator and the cupboards would still have to be cleaned out. She’d have to call to turn off her utilities. And find time to shop for a new dress. And, of course she’d have to pack...

She fought off a fresh wave of exhaustion. Taken all together, it was close to overwhelming. She was going to need every minute she had. “No. Please. I’ll—I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “One o’clock, the county courthouse. The judge’s chambers are on the second floor.” He searched her face. He must have seen her uncertainty, because he said abruptly, “Give me your word you’ll be there, Susan.”

She stared back at him, stung as she saw the distrust in his eyes. “I’ll be there. I promise.”

“All right.” With a stiff nod, he settled his hat on his head and strode toward the door, where he smacked the screen open with his palm and was gone.

Susan stared dazedly after him. Oh, dear. It appeared she was getting married.

Whether she wanted to or not.

Two

She wasn’t coming.

Sterling paced restlessly along the courthouse hallway. Although the air was cool thanks to the air-conditioning, he’d managed to work up a sweat. As a result, he’d loosened his tie and tossed his navy suit coat over a corridor chair a while ago. Now, stripped down to his shirtsleeves and vest, he glanced at his wristwatch for what felt like the umpteenth time, then stalked over to glare out the bank of windows that overlooked the building’s main entrance.

It was 1:10 and there wasn’t a redhead in sight.

“Mr. Churchill?”

He swiveled around, recognizing the voice of Judge Lester’s clerk. “Yes?”

The young man hesitated. “I don’t mean to worry you, but I thought I’d better mention that His Honor is due back in court at two. If your fiancée is delayed much longer, I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule.”

“No problem. She should be here any minute.”

Apparently he sounded more confident than he felt, because the clerk readily nodded. “Good. But as soon as she arrives, if you could come straight inside, we’ll get started.”

“Fine.” The instant the younger man disappeared back through the door into the judge’s chambers, Sterling whipped around to once more scan the sidewalk down below.

Nothing. He swore under his breath. Susan Wilkins wasn’t coming and it was his own damn fault. He never should have agreed to let her get to the courthouse on her own. For that matter, he never should have let her out of his sight. His instinct—the one that had lifted him out of a childhood of near-poverty and made him a millionaire before he turned thirty—had urged him to close this deal while he could. He should have listened to it, should have heeded the inner voice of experience that had warned him that speed was of the essence.

Because, while there was no way for Ms. Wilkins to know that he would never take a child away from its mother, by now she might have figured out that a court was far more likely to order him to pay support than grant him custody.

Then again, why would she settle for half the pie when she could have it all? She’d made it clear yesterday that she knew he had money. And, though he knew his attorney was going to have a coronary when he found out, Sterling had deliberately chosen not to ask for a prenup so that by marrying him, she’d have a direct claim on his wealth—a fact he’d counted on to work in his favor.

He grimaced. It appeared he’d thought wrong. It appeared that if he had the brains God gave a Hereford, he would have called the judge from her dingy little living room yesterday and taken care of everything then and there.

Of course, he had been practically out on his feet. And there was no guarantee that the judge would’ve been available. Or that he could have arranged things on such short notice. Hell, he’d had to pull strings to make this happen today.

Besides, Susan had given him her word she’d be here—

Aw, come on, Churchill, get real. Teresa promised to love, honor and cherish you for the rest of your life and you know how that turned out. When are you going to learn?

His face tightened at the reminder of his ex-wife. Bracing his hands against the windowsill, he hunched his shoulders and stared blindly out into the bright September sun, remembering the day she’d packed up and left him. He’d spent most of their marriage trying to make up to her for the child they couldn’t have. But it hadn’t been until that winter afternoon four years ago that he’d finally accepted that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be enough to fill the void in her life. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, and he’d vowed, as he stood there and watched her drive away, that he would never again open himself up to such heartbreak.