Christy Lockhart - Let's Have A Baby!

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DADDY BY DONATION… ?Jessica Stephens was determined to have a baby of her own, even if it meant raising a child all by herself. And Jessie would do just about anything to make her dream come true, including asking the one man she trusted to supply a small, clinical contribution… .When Jessie asked him to father her child, Kurt Majors did the sensible, gentlemanly thing - he kidnapped her. At his isolated ranch house, he set out to teach Jessie a couple of important truths. First: babies should only be conceived the old-fashioned way, with two committed parents. Second: Jessie was so desirable, no man could resist her - including Kurt himself.Bachelors and Babies: These men get more than they ever expected when they connect with the woman of their dreams… .

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She drew in her breath sharply and he continued, “Yeah, just like that, she’d react like that, and more. She’d reach for my belt buckle and we would tumble onto the bed together.”

His callused finger grazed the skin right above the clasp that joined her bra. Her eyes widened.

“I’d bring her to a climax, listen to her call out my name.” Rather than diminish, his anger continued to simmer. “Any baby of mine will be conceived when I’m buried deep inside my wife. There will be mutual love and passion, and it will create life.

“It’ll be more than just sex, and a hell of a lot more than what you want.”

Silence crackled.

“You asked the wrong man.”

With that, he released her and watched her shoulders slump. He hardened his heart against the tears clinging to her eyelashes.

“Kurt...” She swiped at the tears. “I understand what you’re saying.” Her words were rushed and unsure. “If the only way you’d agree is if we did it, you know, the old-fashioned way, then I guess we could.”

Just what he wanted. A martyr in his bed.

“You didn’t understand a word I said,” he snapped. Kurt grabbed at his self-control. He strode to the far side of the room, where the fire feasted on a log. “Forget it, Jessie.”

She lowered her head and hid her expression.

“If you thought I could do this, Jessie, you don’t know me.”

Humiliation flooded over her. “No.” Jessie mentally cursed her voice for cracking and betraying her inner emotions. “I guess I don’t.”

Her fingers shook as she refastened the buttons he’d opened. Her skin burned where he’d touched her, making the mortification complete. She could barely breathe, let alone speak. Words rough and scratchy, she fumbled over an apology.

Since he was on the other side of the room, Jessie seized the opportunity to flee, rushing from his study, then yanking open the front door and dragging it shut behind her.

The tears that had threatened to spill for the past fifteen minutes now curtained her eyes.

She’d always known no man would ever want her.

Sam, her ex-fiancé, had reinforced that knowledge, a hundred times.

How could she have been foolish enough to believe Kurt was any different? Even though they wouldn’t have actually had to sleep together, no man would willingly get her pregnant.

She ran toward her car, praying she could outdistance the pain of his rejection.

“Jessie! Wait!”

She didn’t.

As long as she lived, she’d never be able to face Kurt again. Even worse was the knowledge that she’d destroyed their friendship.

The first of the tears chased down her cheeks and the cold Colorado night air froze them to her skin. She struggled to slide the key into the ignition only to have the set slip from her grip and tumble to the floorboard.

Frustration drowning all other emotions, she slapped her hand against the steering wheel.

Nothing had gone right since she arrived at Kurt’s.

Stupid, stupid.

She shouldn’t have done this, should have just stuck with her original plan.

Wasting precious moments, she switched on the interior light to search for the keys. Just as Kurt reached for the car door, determination written on his rigid features, she managed to turn the ignition.

Blinking desperately to clear her blurry vision, she put the car in gear and floored the accelerator.

In the rearview mirror she saw Kurt, reflected by the porch light. Then he slammed his fist into his open palm as Jessie sped away. His brows were set in a scowl and his jaw hardened.

She barely slowed down before turning onto the gravel road leading back to town and home.

Ten minutes later, she rushed into the house, clicking the dead bolt securely into place before her shoulders collapsed against the door.

Kurt hadn’t followed her.

Even though she’d checked the mirror a dozen times, she hadn’t seen a single set of lights on the inky mountain road.

She was alone, just as she wanted.

A lump clogged Jessie’s throat, and she wondered if she would ever stop lying to herself.

She’d never wanted to be alone. Her entire life, she’d wanted to love and be loved. But not even her own mother cared enough to keep her. Nor had the series of foster parents. She’d spent night after night praying that someone would adopt her, keep her, make her feel as though she were part of a family instead of facing the world all alone.

And every night, she’d turned off the light, thinking that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, things would be different.

Jessie told herself that Kurt’s rejection didn’t surprise her, that she’d expected he’d refuse. So, why then, did she hurt so much?

Trying to bury the pain of tonight’s confrontation, she shoved away from the door. Her suitcase sat in the foyer, still packed. Now, more than ever, she wished she’d just left well enough alone and had never given in to the temptation of approaching Kurt.

Yet, every night since she made the appointment a few weeks ago, she’d dreamed of knowing the baby’s father instead of just receiving an anonymous donation.

As she trailed her fingertips across the suitcase’s zipper, she realized that every time in her life that she had dared to dream, she had been hurt.

It wouldn’t ever happen again, she vowed. She was done fantasizing. With his cold words, Kurt had reinforced the danger of believing.

This time, she vowed, she’d learned the lesson and learned it well. It was safer to stick to facts and reality. Maybe life would be less painful that way.

Soon, she would have the baby she’d always wanted, holding it, cuddling and snuggling. For the first time in her life, she would know and give unconditional love.

Protectively she placed her palm across her abdomen.

Nothing and no one would stand in her way.

With resolution, she squared her shoulders and crossed into the bedroom. But the instant she unfastened the top button of her shirt, memories flooded her.

It had been so long since she’d been touched. The feel of Kurt’s work-roughened skin against her smooth skin had sent shivers of something she didn’t dare name skating down her spine to settle near her womb.

For a moment, if she closed her eyes and imagined, she might believe that he’d actually wanted to touch her....

But he hadn’t.

He’d simply been trying to drive home his angry point. As she’d learned, wanting and being wanted were for other women.

Jessie finished undressing and pulled on a flannel nightdress. Last week, at the women’s clothing store in town, she’d passed satin and lace teddies on the way to the dressing room. She’d stopped, looking longingly at the material while wondering how it might feel against her skin.

Since it didn’t really matter anyway, she’d settled for flannel. No one would see her in lingerie. Besides, a long gown was warmer, especially when there was no one to share the bed with.

After combing her hair its customary one hundred strokes, she turned off the lights and slipped beneath cold blankets, curling into a ball, seeking protection from the rejection still searing her heart.

Seconds later, the insistent thud of a fist on her front door made her sit upright.

“Open up, Jessie!”

Kurt.

She dragged a pillow against her chest and hugged it tight. Maybe if she ignored him...

“I’ll get Sheriff McCall, say we’ve got an emergency.”

He wouldn’t.

“I will, Jessie. Try me.”

Her heart pounded.

“Neighbors just turned on their porch light.”

Jessie groaned. Maybe when she went to Denver in the morning, she wouldn’t come back.

“No, Mrs. Johnson, Jessie’s not answering. I’m starting to worry. Yes, her car’s here.”

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