Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan

She’d been fond of him, but she hadn’t loved him. To marry him would have been unfair to them both. She’d used him as a crutch for a very long time, and she prayed that he’d found some sweet girl and was married, that they were happily raising half a dozen little football players and cheerleaders.

And that thought brought her back to her present problem. She could have married and had children with Chip. But…something had stopped her. She hadn’t known at the time exactly why he wasn’t right. She’d just known he wasn’t.

And after she’d settled down in Boston and gotten her shop established, she hadn’t found the right man, either.

Will you marry me?

Ryan’s words echoed over and over again in her head. Was it possible she’d been tempted to blurt out, “Yes!” for one ridiculous, impetuous instant?

Familiarity, she decided. Ryan had known her forever. He knew all her warts and quirks. They had a number of interests in common. Living with Ryan would be comfortable in many ways.

But as she remembered the breathless, shocking awareness that had swamped her when he’d taken her in his arms, the word comfortable wasn’t the one that seemed to apply.

That line of thought was dangerous. Her mind shied away from any examination of exactly what had happened last night. Instead she focused on his refusal to help her in her quest for motherhood. She should have realized, would have, if she’d thought about it longer, that Ryan Shaughnessy would have difficulty with the concept of a biological child to which he had no rights or attachment.

Ryan’s family had been a close and loving one. She should know. Hadn’t she sought refuge in Mrs. Shaughnessy’s plump arms more than once? Mr. Shaughnessy had been warm and boisterous, including her in the games of pitch-and-catch with Ryan and his older brother, tossing her high in the air just to hear her scream. And on the occasions when she’d eaten at the Shaughnessy house, the teasing camaraderie and open love in their home had never failed to amaze her.

Her family had been very different. Her mother, as far as Jessie could tell, felt that raising a child was little more than a duty. Her grandparents regarded her as a trial, a punishment sent by God for some unfathomable crime. They had failed as parents when their only daughter had gotten herself pregnant and, even worse, refused to marry—or even name—the father of her baby.

Unless they’d been a lot different during her mother’s childhood, Jessie thought it likely that her mother had succumbed to the first man ever to say a kind word to her. A mistake Jessie herself very nearly had made with Chip, although he’d been quite different from the man who’d apparently seduced and waltzed away from her mother.

No, thank goodness she’d gotten smart. She wasn’t ever going to believe that a man was her ticket to fulfillment. She knew better.

And where did that leave her? Alone, childless, aching for her life to mean something to somebody. Which was why, if she was honest with herself, she felt so strongly about having a child of her own.

She thought again of her fears, weighed them against the certainty of years passing her by. Could she marry Ryan? Perhaps he was right about their friendship being a good basis for the marriage. But…what if she didn’t conceive? What would happen then? She had friends who had infertility problems, and the uncertainties put a strain on even the most devoted couple. What would happen to a couple like Ryan and her if something like that happened?

And then it struck her. What if they compromised? What if she agreed to marry Ryan if, and only if, he gave her a baby? She hadn’t thought that her baby needed a father. After all, she’d survived without one. What her baby needed was love, and that she knew she could give it. But she also knew Ryan. He’d said marriage, and she knew he’d never go for anything less.

And the thought of giving her child a warm, loving, complete family was very seductive. Maybe they could even have more than one child. Then it struck her—additional children would be conceived far more conventionally if this all came to pass. She’d be tacitly agreeing to a lasting sexual arrangement with Ryan. And in good conscience, she couldn’t pretend that would be a problem.

The real problem might be keeping her hands off him.

She shivered suddenly, though she was walking down Marlborough Street now at a brisk pace. Her mind racing, she considered the idea from all angles. As she reached the steps of her building, she nodded once, sharply, then went inside and headed straight for the phone.

When Ryan’s deep voice said, “Hello?” though, for a moment her throat seized up, and she couldn’t speak.

“Jessie? Is that you?” His voice was sharp enough to startle her into speech again.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Caller I.D.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Jess? Did you call me for a reason or did you just want to breathe heavily into the phone?”

“I want to talk to you again. About this baby stuff.”

On the other end of the phone, he sighed. “I don’t believe there’s any point in talking it to death.”

“I had an idea,” she said. “Could you meet me for dinner?”

“Three meals in two days. All my adoring fans are going to start to worry.”

“Maybe they should.”

“Jess—”

“Come on, Ryan. Live dangerously. The East Coast Grill? Seven o’clock?”

“Wow. All the way over in Cambridge? I didn’t know you strayed that far from home.”

“Very funny. Will you do it?”

“All right,” he said. “But only because I know you’ll bug me to death until I listen to you. I’m telling you right up front that there is no way I am going to change my mind.”

“I understand,” she said. “All I ask is that you listen.”

When she arrived in a taxi at 7:05 he already was waiting. To her eternal amusement he was seated at the bar with a woman on each side of him apparently vying for his attention.

Jessie walked up behind them and put her hands over his eyes. “Guess who?”

“Hey, there.” He swiveled around on his stool to face her. “You’re early.”

The women who’d been speaking to him were eyeing her with something less than friendliness. An imp of mischief seized her, and she placed her hands on either side of Ryan’s face, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Miss me?”

“Always.” She hadn’t counted on his quick reflexes. His hands came up before she could draw away. One shackled her wrist, the other cradled the back of her head as he returned a second, much more leisurely kiss. His lips were warm and firm, molding her own as her heart thudded, and she nearly sank into the promise inherent in the lingering caress before she remembered who she was kissing and why. When he let her go, she drew back, flustered.

He rose and settled a hand at her waist, turning to smile at the women as Jessie blinked and forced herself to focus. “It was nice meeting you.”

As he seated her and moved around the small table, she sent him an easy grin, determined not to let him see she’d been shaken by that kiss. “Was I helpful?”

“Infinitely.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket. “I was being accosted.”

“Well,” she said, “it’s not every day a girl gets to meet an eminently available hunk.”

“If I hear that phrase out of you one more time,” he said, leaning forward with mock menace, “your derriere is going to meet my eminently available hand.”

She smiled brilliantly. “Ooooh, sounds like fun. Promise?”

His eyes narrowed, and that quickly the playful moment metamorphosed into something entirely different, something dark and dangerous with undercurrents of an intensity that caught her breath in her throat.

“Okay. You folks want to order drinks?” The arrival of the server broke through the stillness between them.

She sat quietly as Ryan ordered their drinks. What was happening to her? And to the comfortable, familiar relationship she’d had with Ryan?