Bargaining for Baby / The Billionaire's Baby Arrangement. Robyn Grady

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СКАЧАТЬ out a shaky breath, Maddy worked to gather herself and force her leaden feet forward while Jack hoisted the baby higher against his chest.

      “Meet Nell,” he said.

      Maddy preferred not to. Nevertheless she nodded curtly at the dog with the lolling pink tongue and penetrating brown eyes while keeping her distance. “Hello, Nell.”

      Jack paused to give her a dirty look. “You don’t like dogs?”

      “Let’s say dogs don’t like me.” She had no intention of explaining further. “She seems to hang off your every word.”

      “Nell’s a working dog.” A muscle ticked in his square, shadowed jaw. “Or she was.”

      Maddy tilted her head. Was a working dog. Had Nell had an accident? God knows she seemed agile enough. But Maddy had a more important question to ask.

      “Is Nell good with children?”

      Jack picked up his pace. “How should I know?”

      As they moved toward the house, Nell trotted wide circles to manage her human flock, every so often darting up behind to nose their heels. Although Maddy remained outwardly calm, suffocating tendrils twined around her throat. But clearly this Border collie was well-trained. There was nothing to fear, for herself or the baby. Her falling blood pressure—her tingling brain—was an automatic physiological response to past stimuli. Just because she’d been mauled by a dog many years ago didn’t mean it would happen again.

       Breathe deeply. Calm thoughts.

      As Nell flew past, the dog’s tail brushed her wrist. Maddy’s anxiety meter lurched again and she coughed out a nervous laugh.

      “I have to say, I’m feeling a little like a lamb chop.”

      Jack flattened his lips and a sharp whistle echoed out over the plains. When he nodded ahead, Nell tore off. Maddy spluttered as more dust clouded her vision and filled her lungs. Fine grains of dirt crunched between her teeth. She needed a bath and a drink—a big fat Cosmopolitan with an extra shot of everything.

      His broad shoulders rolling, Jack glanced across and measured her up. “There’s reception for your cell phone if you need it.”

      “That’s nice to know. Thanks.”

      “You bring any jeans?”

      “Of course.” The new season’s latest cut.

      “Good.”

      Goosebumps erupted down her arms. Something in his assured tone worried her. “Why good?”

      “You can’t ride in a dress.”

      She blinked. Ride?

      Then she laughed. “Oh, I don’t ride.” Certainly not horses. She hadn’t even swung a leg over a bicycle since that day when she was twelve.

      Jack’s brows fell together. “You don’t like horses either?”

      Her brows fell, too. “I didn’t realize it was a federal offense.”

      Then again she was “out west.” He probably slept with his saddle tucked under one arm and his Akubra glued to his head.

      While she smacked another fly, Jack sucked air in between his teeth. “So you’re not a fan of animals.”

      “Not up close.”

      He grunted. “What do you like?”

      “I like the theater. I like chocolate custard. I like rainy days when I know I don’t have to get up.”

      “Are there many days you don’t get out of bed?”

      She gave him a narrow-eyed look. Was he serious? His tone and expression were so dry, she couldn’t tell.

      “What I mean,” she explained in an overly patient tone, “is that I love to prop myself up against a bank of pillows, snuggle down and read when rain’s falling on the roof.”

      He grunted again—or was that growled—and kept his strides long while she wiped her damp brow and cringed as sweat trickled down the dent in her back. Up ahead, the homestead shimmered like an extravagant desert mirage.

      A few minutes yet before they reached shade. But the sun was behind them, the baby seemed settled and the dog had disappeared. On his own turf, Jack seemed to be opening up, a little. Time to get to know more about Beau’s legal guardian.

      “What about you?”

      “What about me?”

      She rolled her eyes. She would never be able to talk to this man.

      “Do you read, Jack?”

      “No,” he stated in a deep and definite voice. “I don’t read.”

      Maddy blinked. She might have asked him if he wore pink stockings on a Saturday night. “But you do ride.” He kept striding and she gave a skip to keep up. Okay. Obvious answer. No need to reply.

      “I imagine you’ll teach Beau to ride, too, one day,” she tried again.

      “Imagine I will.”

      Maddy nodded slowly, let the words sink in, and for the first time the finality of this situation truly hit.

      The moment she’d stepped off the plane, she’d begun counting the seconds until she could flee this desolate place. But when she left she would also be leaving Beau behind, her best friend’s beautiful gift to the world. When, if ever, would she see Beau again? There must be occasions when Jack flew to Sydney. Perhaps he could bring Beau, too.

      Maddy was busy planning when they rounded the side of the homestead. A woman was moving down the wide front steps, winding her hands over a white apron, which was tied at the nape as well as around her ample girth. Her glossy hair was cropped short, polished jet threaded with silver. Soft lids hung over inquisitive cappuccino eyes, and as she rolled down each step, Maddy’s nose picked up the mouth-watering smell of scones fresh from the oven.

      Negotiating the last step, the woman extended both her hand and a cheery grin. Maddy smiled at the dab of flour on the woman’s cheek and the aura of hominess and good humor she gave off.

      “You must be Madison.” The woman’s grip was firm though not at all challenging. “I’m Cait.” She nodded heartily, wiping her free hand down the apron. “Welcome to Leadeebrook.”

      “Jack’s told me all about you.”

      Not exactly true. He’d provided minimal detail and only after some solid pressing. Cait Yolsen had been Leadeebrook’s housekeeper for ten years. She was a widow with two children and two grown grandchildren. Maddy had been there when Jack had rung Cait to let her know to expect visitors. Afterward he’d relayed that Cait’s cooking was exceptional. Maddy could taste those buttery scones now.

      Cait moved close to Jack СКАЧАТЬ