Baby's First Christmas

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman before him. Unaccountable disappointment washed over him. He’d thought himself securely jaded by now, but this situation generated a really bad taste in his mouth. She looked honest, genuine and, despite her very obvious condition, pure. So much for first impressions.

“Then this isn’t a surprise?” he asked darkly.

He was acting very odd, Marlene thought. “No, why should it be?” she asked. She gestured toward the sofa. The entire room was done in light pastels, complementing the airy effect created by the cathedral ceilings.

Following her lead, Sullivan sat down, waiting for her to continue.

They hadn’t talked about his fee on the telephone, and she thought it best to get that out of the way first. “Perhaps we should get the financial end of things cleared up first. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement that you would find to your liking.”

She knew who he was, all right, he thought. The woman had nerve, he would give her that. She didn’t look like an operator, but then, maybe that was how she had acquired this house to begin with. You just never knew.

“To my liking,” he repeated.

Every word tasted like acid on his tongue. If his brother hadn’t already been dead, he would have wrung Derek’s neck for putting him through this. It was beyond him how he could have ever worshiped Derek when they were both younger, how he had actually envied him his freedom. It was only later that he had recognized that desire for freedom for what it was. Pure, selfish recklessness.

Marlene was beginning to have second thoughts about hiring this man. Maybe she should have researched his credentials a little more thoroughly. He really was behaving very oddly.

“Well, yes,” she said slowly. “It’s only fair that we both get something from this arrangement.”

He leaned back, his arms crossed before him. “And just what do you expect out of this arrangement, Ms. Bailey?”

Was he kidding? “I expect you to deliver, of course.”

She was referring to the money. Didn’t waste any time, did she? Sullivan pressed his lips together grimly. “Of course.”

She had the definite impression that he was mocking her. The man had to be doing very well indeed to be so high-handed. Still, he did have an impressive track record, according to one of the VPs at her company.

“I mean, I realize that these things can’t be guaranteed, but you do have a reputation.”

Now they were getting down to it. “Yes, I do.”

Why was he scowling at her like that? He was a very handsome man, but he looked like Zeus about to unleash a thunderbolt on a group of mortals who had displeased him.

She squared her shoulders. “And I assume that there is some amount of truth in it.”

He nodded, prepared to concede very little. “To a degree.”

He was being awfully cagey. She wondered if this was his normal mode of operation, or if the fact that she was the head of a very successful ad agency had something to do with it. “Why don’t you give me a price, and then I’ll tell you what I think of it?”

He wanted to tell her exactly what he thought of her, but he managed to maintain his control.

“Why don’t you start the bidding?” he suggested genially, but his smile fell short of his eyes.

“Bidding?” Marlene repeated. What was he talking about? Didn’t he have set rates? She was beginning to smell a setup. Her doubts about him continued to escalate.

But he was here, and she might as well see this thing through. “All right, how does a hundred dollars a day sound?”

Was she serious? Did she really intend to sell her child for a daily fee? Just what kind of a monster was she?

“A hundred dollars a day,” he repeated grimly.

Was that too little? It would help if he gave her some kind of a ballpark figure to work with. “Plus expenses.”

“Expenses?” This was getting worse and worse. Just how long did she intend to bilk them? “And for how long?”

Boy, talk about wanting to play a good thing out. “As long as it takes.” Her eyes narrowed. “Within reason, of course.”

“Reason?” He’d heard of unmitigated gall, but the worst offender he had dealt with was a humble saint in comparison to her. The burden of years of cleaning up after Derek finally took its toll, and he shouted, “I don’t think the word reason has anything to do with this.”

He had completely lost her. She had no idea what he was talking about, or why he had suddenly raised his voice to her, but she wasn’t about to take it.

“Why are you yelling?” she shouted back at him.

It was completely out of character for him. Generally he was the calm within the stormy family. Sullivan paused, but he couldn’t regain the control he sought. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I always yell when someone is trying to sell me a baby.”

Marlene’s lips formed a perfect circle as her eyes grew wide. She stared at him, utterly speechless for what was possibly the first time in her life.

Chapter Two

“W hat are you talking about?” Marlene demanded.

This whole conversation was taking on surrealistic overtones. Sell her baby? She’d moved heaven and earth and endured censure from people close to her to have this child. She would sooner sell her soul than sell her baby.

He could almost believe that the shocked indignation on Marlene’s face was genuine. But he had been privy to some elaborate double-dealing in his career, and he wasn’t about to let himself be taken in by a pair of wide indigo eyes and a full mouth.

His look cut her dead. “Don’t play innocent with me now, Ms. Bailey. It’s a little late for that.” His eyes narrowed. This had to be the dirtiest scam he’d ever come across. “I’ve seen some cool customers in my time, but you really take the cake.”

How dare he stand there, pontificating about some delusional thought that was floating through his head? She knew all she had to do was let out one scream and Sally would be punching out the numbers to the police on the telephone in the next heartbeat. But she didn’t want it to come to that. She was going to handle this hustler on her own.

“Listen, mister, if I had a cake, you’d be wearing it right now. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Aren’t you Mr. Spencer?”

Sullivan suddenly had an inkling that a horrible mistake had been made, and that he had been the one to make it. Some of his anger abated. He stared at her like someone who had opened the wrong door and found the tiger, not the lady, waiting for him.

“No, I’m not. Who’s Mr. Spencer?”

“John Spencer. He’s a private investigator—” Marlene stopped abruptly. “Why am I explaining this to you?” She certainly didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t even know who he was. All she did know was that he had to be deranged. Taking a step back, she raised her voice. “Sally—”

The woman had never gone more than a few steps into the next room. “I’m already calling 911,” Sally assured her as she hurried to the phone.

“No, wait,” Sullivan called out. It was an order, not a protest.

Like a feisty bantam rooster, Sally bobbed into the doorway. “Why should I?” she demanded. “The way I see it, you could be dangerous.”

Men had called him that, but the description had been issued across a bargaining table. It had never been applied to him in the sense that this small troll of a woman meant it.

He leveled a look at Sally that was meant to freeze her in her tracks. “Hardly.”

“I don’t know about that.” Marlene folded her arms before her as she regarded him coldly. “Most deranged people are dangerous to some degree.”