The American Heir: A Jet City Billionaire Romance Page 4

  Riggins didn't take a seat or say a word. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room to the window, staring out at the gardens and Capability Brown's capable landscape. "Cancel your appointment. I'm sending you back to the States to see a proper obstetrician."

  Let the game of chicken begin.

  I lifted my chin, in a show of defiance and confidence I didn't feel. If I kept this posture up, they'd have to start calling me the haughty duchess.

  "I don't take orders from you or anyone." I softened my tone. More flies with honey. "I'm not cancelling our appointment. And I'm staying here until I find Sid's cure.

  "Dr. Turner in the village is very good, from what I hear. He's delivered over half the village in his twenty-five years practicing here."

  Riggins crossed his arms. Even closed off to me and angry, he looked handsomely ducal standing there posed against the sunlight silhouetting him.

  "I'm taking a cue from the prince and princess. We're going to be a duke and duchess of the people. And, as such, barring any unforeseen medical complication, we're going to use the doctor everyone else on the estate and village does. Like regular people. Like the regular people we are."

  "You're pushing too hard." He turned his gaze to me.

  His eyes were in shadow. I couldn't read them.

  I got out of my chair and went to him, taking him by his crossed arms and staring up into his eyes. "You aren't thinking straight, Riggins. When your anger clears, I hope you come to your senses. Maybe then you'll realize what a gift this is." I paused. "You've read Clara's letter?"

  He nodded, still silently angry.

  I refused to let the tension unnerve me. "Good. Then you understand my rights to this place. Legal or not, I'm the heir, too. My great-grandfather wanted this for me. You should be able to understand that, although I never cared about family history until now, I feel somewhat cheated out of my legacy."

  He didn't answer, but his Adam's apple bobbed. I was getting to him.

  "I won't cheat our baby out of its rightful place in life."

  His eyes were still hard. I shook him gently by the arms. Not that he really moved, but I gave him the best shake I could.

  "If you read that letter carefully, you must have realized something else—just how deep the Dead Duke's tendrils extend into our lives and just how long he's been manipulating things." I paused for effect. "My entire lifetime, Riggins. And most of yours—maybe all of it, for all we know."

  When Riggins didn't respond, I continued. "It's clear he wanted me to be the duchess from my birth. For his own reasons, I suppose. I like to believe that, at least on some level, he had my best interests at heart, too.

  "You're angry. You think I tricked you and got pregnant on purpose. That I broke my word. If that were true, I can understand why you'd be hurt. So maybe you can understand why I'm stinging from the way you jumped to a conclusion and obviously believe the worst in me.

  "I didn't trick you, Riggins. This isn't my fault. I took my birth control pills religiously. From my point of view, one of two things happened. Either we're the 'unlucky' one percent who experienced birth control failure, even when using it properly. Or the Dead Duke has once again manipulated us from the grave."

  Riggins' eyes flashed. His brow furrowed. He looked suddenly interested.

  "Do you really think, knowing how closely he studied us, and how much he wanted an heir, that he would leave it up to us to conceive? Don't you think he knew that neither of us could really be tempted by the money? That we were each really blackmailed into this? And we'd try to fight for our freedom.

  "I think he knew our natures and personalities almost as well as we do. Maybe better, in some ways. He certainly had the power of a distance, perspective, and objectivity. He would have known neither of us would just bend over and do what he commanded.

  "He lured us here, Riggins, where he had more control. He knew we'd have to come eventually. And then, I'm not sure how he did it, but he tampered with our birth control."

  I pulled my pill pack from my pocket and pressed it into Riggins' hand, relieved to be handing it over. Riggins was motivated and would know what to do with it. Had it been tampered with? I wanted the answer badly.

  "Take these. Have them tested. See if they're genuine or if they've been replaced with placebos. I realize that even if they're placebos that doesn't prove my innocence. But think of this, Riggins—if I was so desperate to conceive, and such a conniver, I would have gone home to Seattle with you.

  "I couldn't have known I was pregnant when you left. It was too soon. Why would I chance sending you off and losing your interest? I can't have sex with you across the pond, not the way I need to get pregnant, anyway. It would have been in my best interests to stay by your side until I was certain I'd accomplished my goal."

  He finally spoke. "You really think the Dead Duke duped us?" His expression had softened and his stance relaxed.

  I nodded. "If he's done even half of what I suspect him of, I think he's capable of anything. It makes me wonder what else he has up his sleeve for us."

  I took a deep breath. "In the meantime, you and I have to keep up the public front. We have to look like we're complying with the Dead Duke's wishes and totally thrilled with our baby news. Both of us have to keep up the act. Or risk triggering the next mousetrap that my evil genius of a great-grandfather set up to ensure we don't escape."

  I leaned into Riggins, got in his face, went up on my toes, and stood practically nose to nose with him. "Forget the terms he laid out. Rans isn't going to let us escape his will. Not without a fantastic fight and a lot of outwitting. We'll have to outplay him.

  "We have no choice now. We played right into his hands, walked into his diabolical trap. I'm pregnant, Riggins. Whether we want to or not, we're going to have a child together.

  "Let's have this baby together and see what happens. After we know what it is—boy or girl—then we can decide the fate of our marriage. Until then, everyone has to think we're still the happy newlyweds. If you don't want to endanger Flash, if you ever want your freedom, you'll have to play your part."

  I took his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his. His lips were motionless, firmly set together, locking me out, rejecting me. It felt like kissing a warm statue. If he was going to be that way…

  I ran my tongue lightly over his lips, tracing the firm outline of his mouth, pausing to circle the bow of his lips with my tongue. Working my way in, slowly, softly, coaxing him. Open your mouth to me, duke. Tantalizing, Teasing—

  With one sudden, smooth move, he wrapped his arms around my waist. Startled, I gasped as he pressed me to him, kissing me back roughly, sticking his tongue deep into my mouth as if he wanted to possess me. I kissed him back eagerly, letting him hold me hostage with his kisses. He released me so suddenly I stumbled back.

  He was breathing hard. "Damn it, Haley. I hope you're not playing me."

  I'd tempted him. The anger protecting his heart was beginning to crack. It hadn't broken open. Yet. I'd just have to be patient.

  I glanced at the clock. "We should be going. We have a doctor to see."

  Riggins

  The morning was sunny and calm, though cool. Highs were supposed to reach around fifty degrees. The view was pastoral, green, and peaceful. Idyllic. As long as you bundled up, the perfect setting and weather for a stroll into the village. Not so very different from Seattle this time of year. But the setting was completely at odds with my black mood.

  I was on a tightly wound string that was quickly fraying. My outlook dark. My mood grim. I was still stinging from the bite of betrayal. Someone had betrayed me. But damn, Haley had made me doubt my own doubt. She'd made a compelling case against the Dead Duke. Why did I have to fall for such a beautiful, intriguing, and apparently guilelessly logical woman?

  On the surface, she appeared naively genuine. She was too easy to believe, and, because of that very quality, enabled my cynical self to doubt her. She could play me for a fool and I would gladly
take the punishment she meted out. If there were only me to worry about. But now this baby. Shit. A baby.

  It was possible my predecessor had manipulated us from birth like a fairy godfather in a storybook tale. Maybe there were landmines and traps ahead the likes of which we couldn't even begin to imagine. He'd had thirty-plus years to set them.

  Maybe she hadn't betrayed me. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd trapped us both. Again. As frightening as the thought was, it gave me too much hope. I wanted Haley to be innocent of conniving to get pregnant. I wanted it so damn badly it hurt. I wanted her, pure and simple.

  I was frustrated and furious at being manipulated and controlled. By anyone. Especially a dead guy.

  There was no need to take the car. The village was right out our back door. Out the back of the castle, along the path across the green, through the fortress wall, across the ancient remnants of the moat, and there we were, in the village proper. It looked as quaint as the setting of a Jane Austen novel.

  People were out enjoying the fair weather. Haley was full of smiles and friendly waves for everyone we met. The new duchess was quite obviously determined to win over the public. I found myself following her lead, nodding and smiling along with her, though I was forcing it. Giving her the benefit of all that shitty doubt, keeping a path open for us to come back together.

  "Have you noticed, how very…white everyone in the village is," she whispered to me.

  I nodded. I'd noticed, but I wondered what she was getting at. "Not as diverse as London or Seattle. Does it matter?"

  "A half-Chinese person would stand out here, wouldn't he or she?"

  I studied her without comment.

  Her brow furrowed. "Someone has to know something about Sid's twin."

  "You're making a lot of assumptions," I said evenly. I was furious as hell with her, but I understood where her desperation was coming from. I wanted a cure for Sid, too. "Even if the Dead Duke was helping someone out, there's no guarantee whoever it was came from either the estate or village."

  She gave me a fierce look. "They were. They had to be. By the time Sid was born, the Dead Duke had become a hermit. There were very few people he cared about left. He'd buried three wives. He had no children, no brothers, no nephews, no near cousins. He'd outlived most of his friends and contemporaries.

  "He would only have helped someone he was close to or fond of. Or felt responsible for."

  "Or someone he'd bribed to carry out his dastardly plans for our lives." I laughed without humor.

  She looked at me and momentarily frowned. Her face cleared, lit with a light bulb of a thought. "Excellent point. I'll add that to the list, along with this—or who would be important to the future of the estate. We know its survival was his ultimate goal.

  "You could say, I suppose, that he was helping my mom, his granddaughter, by giving her another child, as she desperately wanted. But there's more to it than that. I'm certain there is.

  "When I try to think as cunningly as he did, I have to imagine he was trying to find another way to bind me to the estate. At that point, no one suspected Sid would get this horrible anemia and he'd have that to hold over me.

  "There's a connection between the Dead Duke and Sid. I can feel it. He placed her with us. For another reason. I think he wanted to bring her back to it at some point when he needed the leverage. At least, that was his plan when she was born. Then life threw him what he needed and his plan evolved with it.

  "I've begged Sid to come. She wants to finish out the school year first."

  Arguing with a hormonal pregnant woman, especially one as determined as Haley, was pointless. She was seeing Dead Duke conspiracies where there were none. I hoped.

  "Here we are." She stopped suddenly in front of a quaint, old building.

  Dr. Turner's office was in an ancient building that, at a guess, had been standing five hundred years. There was a date placard by the door. If I checked it, I bet I wouldn't be far off. In its checkered history, it could have been a variety of things. A pub. A stable. An inn. Or, hell, maybe it had been a midwife's house or a barbershop, back when barbers did any doctoring that was going to get done. Maybe it had a long, august history of midwifery.

  It was built in the Tudor style, and one could almost imagine Shakespeare taking Mrs. Shakespeare there for her monthly prenatal check. Everything in the village was quaint and cobblestoned or covered in stucco or had decorative wooden beams. There was very little of the twenty-first century revealed in the historic facades.

  The building was barely two blocks down the street from the fortress wall.

  "Very convenient," I said, dryly, as I held the door to the building open for her.

  "Don't be sardonic, duke. It doesn't suit you."

  "I was just stating a fact."

  The doctor's office was on the main floor, just down a hall and across from the village's only general practitioner's office. I paused with my hand on the door handle. My heart raced as if I was going to my own shotgun wedding. Shotgun daddy-hood—there was something new. "Ready?"

  "As I'll ever be." She smiled sweetly at me, serene and eager.

  I may have had the heart of a blackguard, but I felt guilty as hell for not sharing her joy.

  "Smile," she said as I opened the door and let her walk past.

  From waiting patient to receptionist, every head turned our way. There were only six chairs, but every one was filled with a woman at some point of pregnancy, and from their surprised expressions, their thoughts were pretty clear. The tabloid stories are actually true? They must be. Why else would the duke and duchess visit the only ob in town?

  I smiled and nodded to them as Haley dragged me along to the receptionist counter to check in.

  I'd reluctantly agreed with Haley's assessment of our situation and was playing the role of happy, hopefully expectant father. Not well, if my distorted reflection in the glass of a framed print on the wall was any indication. I looked more cynical and angry than exuberant.

  Haley was all bubbles and effervescence. "We have an eleven o'clock with Dr. Turner?"

  "Yes, Your Grace. We're expecting you." She glanced from Haley to me and signaled a nurse who'd been hovering in the background. Clearly, she was telling the truth. And we were getting the VIP treatment.

  The nurse called us back and introduced herself as Dawn. Haley lost none of her excitement as she chatted up Dawn while she weighed and measured Haley.

  Dawn showed her to the bathroom while I waited for the inevitable confirmation of impending fatherhood in an examination room with walls covered with posters of uteruses and babies in various stages of fetal development. Judging from the pictures, and counting back the weeks, our baby looked like an alien tadpole and was roughly the size of a sesame seed. But not as easy to spit out of my life.

  Haley returned with Dawn, who gave her a minute to change into an examination gown. She returned a few minutes later to ask us a series of health-related questions and tap her answers into a computer. "Any family history of birth defects we should be aware of?"

  Haley turned to me, crinkling the paper covering the examination table as she did. "None that I'm aware of on my side. Duke?"

  I tried not to scowl. "I thought there were some babies born with heart problems on your side, duchess." I couldn't resist the jab.

  "That was due to an Rh factor problem." Her voice was cool. "Since I'm O positive, that won't be a problem."

  Dawn finished her questioning and left. Dr. Turner came in a few minutes later. The good doctor wasn't as old as I'd anticipated for having delivered half the town. He was tall and wiry, built like a long-distance runner, with thin gray hair and kind eyes. "You're definitely pregnant, Your Grace, but then, you knew that already."

  Haley beamed.

  I felt sick. Confirmation was hell on hope.

  "Congratulations!" His voice was heartily cheery. "The village will celebrate. We'll finally have a chance to hear the bells ring announcing a new birth at the castle this fall. I've practice
d in the village for twenty-plus years and never heard them." He smiled as he took a seat in the chair in front of the computer screen and read Haley's chart. "Everything looks good. Let's take a peek under the bonnet and see what we have."

  I turned away while he examined my wife's private anatomy.

  "Everything looks healthy," he said. "You can look now, sir." His voice had a laugh in it.

  I turned around to face them as Haley sat up and adjusted herself.

  "From what you've told me and what I can see, you appear to be five weeks along. I usually don't see patients until the eighth to tenth week. But you look to be right where you should be for this stage of early pregnancy.

  "Our first order of business is to establish a due date, which by my calculations will be November ninth. We'll set up a series of appointments for you. Including one for twenty weeks where we can determine the sex of the baby with an ultrasound. We'll do the ultrasound either way, but you have the choice of finding out the sex—"

  "Yes," I said, my voice hard and determined.

  Haley and Dr. Turner turned to me. He wore a surprised expression. Maybe he hadn't expected such vehemence.

  "A true duke. Eager for a son to pass the title to." The doctor's grin was tentative.

  Haley gave me a warning look.

  "Yes, of course," I said. "We're both eager to find out what we're having." If it were a boy, he'd be my way out of the marriage. Flash would be safe. And I'd be several hundred million richer. Was that what I wanted? Would I love a little girl just as much?

  The truth was, although I'd never wanted children, if I ever considered having them at all, I was the odd guy who wanted girls.

  The doctor picked up on the sudden surge of tension. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what had caused the sudden chill when he'd given us nothing but good news.

  Haley lifted her chin. "Either gender will be welcome. But of course the duke is eager to pass his title on."

  "Very good," the doctor said. "Will you be having the baby here, then? In the village? Or London? Or are you planning to return to the States to give birth?"