The Tycoon's Paternity Agenda / High-Society Seduction: The Tycoon's Paternity Agenda / High-Society Seduction. Michelle Celmer

then left them to eat. Katy just assumed that when they were finished, Adam would sit in the chair again. Instead he fluffed the pillows and leaned back against them. It was probably the most laid-back she had ever seen him. In fact, she’d never imagined he could be so relaxed.

      She couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with the scotch. Maybe the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions. She recalled Becca telling her once, a long time ago, that if she wanted something, all she had to do was give him a drink or two and he was about as staunch as a wet noodle. And while Katy didn’t necessarily believe it was ethical to take advantage of an intoxicated person, if it made him open up to her a little … well, what was the harm?

      When Celia came back for their dishes, Katy asked her for a glass of orange juice. “And I think Adam could use another drink.”

      He looked at his watch, then shrugged and said, “Why not?”

      Around nine, after he’d drained his second glass and was clearly feeling no pain—he’d even laughed during one of the shows—she used the bathroom and changed into her pajamas, then climbed back into bed. The program they’d been watching had just ended, so she switched off the television, rolled on her side to face him and asked, “Adam, can we talk?”

      He looked down at her and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

      “Oh, no, nothing,” she assured him. “It just only seems right that I should get to know the father of the baby I’ll be carrying. Don’t you think?”

      His brow dipped low. “Oh, you mean you want to talk.”

      “What have you got against talking? It’s how people get to know each other.”

      He looked uncomfortable. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

      “Maybe it should be.”

      “You know, my life isn’t really all that interesting.”

      “I doubt that.” She gave him a playful poke. “Come on, tell me something about you. Just one thing.”

      “Let me think. Oh, I know. I don’t like talking about myself.”

      She laughed. “Adam!”

      “What?” he said with a grin. “You said one thing.”

      “Something I don’t already know. Tell me about … your father.”

      He shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell.”

      “Were you close?”

      “There were times, when my mom was still alive, that he would occasionally notice me. But then she died, and he checked out.”

      That was the saddest thing she’d ever heard. If they were all the other had, they should have stuck together. They could have leaned on each other. The way she and her parents supported each other when Becca died. She supposed that sort of tragedy could either pull a family together, or rip them apart.

      “You must have been very lonely.”

      He shrugged again, “Celia was there for me.”

      He said it so casually, but she had the feeling that losing his mother had scarred him deeper than he would ever admit. How could it not?

      “How did your mother die?”

      “Cancer.”

      Which must have made learning about Becca’s cancer all the more devastating. And scary. “How old were you?”

      “Young enough to believe it was my fault.”

      She sucked in a quiet breath. That was probably the most honest thing he had ever said to her. Her heart ached for him. For the frightened little boy he must have been.

      He looked over at her. “Everyone has bad things happen to them, Katy. You get through it, you move on.”

      Was he forgetting that she had lost someone dear to her, too?

      “Have you?” she asked. “Moved on, I mean.” She knew the instant the words were out, as the shutters on his emotions snapped closed again, that she had pushed too far. So much for getting to know one another.

      He looked at his watch and frowned. “It’s getting late.”

      He got up and grabbed his shoes from the floor.

      “You don’t have to go,” she said. “We can talk about something else.”

      His expression said he’d had just about all the conversation he could stand for one night. Maybe a dozen nights. Maybe he was only in here to keep tabs on her. To be sure that she followed the doctor’s instructions. “You need your rest and I have an early meeting tomorrow. I probably won’t see you in the morning, but Celia will get you whatever you need.”

      Like the turtles she and Willy used to catch in the grass by the riverbank when she was a kid, he’d sensed danger and retreated back into his shell. God forbid he let himself open up to her, let himself feel something. Would it really be so terrible?

      He hesitated in the doorway, like he might change his mind, but instead he said, “Have a safe trip back to Peckins,” then he was gone.

      Adam had actually started acting like a human being today, which she couldn’t deny intrigued her. And now that she’d had a preview of the man hiding behind the icy exterior, she wanted to dig deeper. She wanted to know who he was.

      But when had this ever been about getting to know Adam better? And why would she bother? When it was over, and the baby was born, they would just go back to being strangers. Seeing each other occasionally when he brought the baby around.

      She laid a hand gently across her belly, wondering what was going on inside, if the procedure had worked and the embryo was attaching to her womb. Her tiny little niece or nephew, she thought with a smile. Even knowing that there was only an average 10 percent success rate, she had a good feeling about their chances.

      She switched off the light and lay in the dark, thinking about everything that had happened since she left Peckins that morning. The ease of the procedure, and the way Adam had stayed with her all day. She thought that they had shared something special, that they were becoming friends, but it was clear he didn’t want that. And for some stupid reason the idea made her inexplicably sad.

      It had only been seven days since the procedure, and would be three more days before she would even know if she was pregnant, and Katy had already determined that she agreed to have a child with the most demanding and obstinate man on the face of the earth.

      Adam had called her about a million times.

      Okay, so it was more like fifteen or twenty, but it sure felt like a million. She had only been back to Peckins an hour when he phoned to check on her, which, in light of his cool attitude the night before, she found sort of touching. He reminded her that the doctor said to take it easy for several days, meaning no heavy lifting or strenuous activity. Which she, of course, already knew. She assured him she was following the postprocedure instructions to the letter, and he had nothing to worry about.

      Thinking that she’d made herself pretty clear, she was surprised when later that evening he’d called again.

      Was she eating right? Drinking enough water? Staying off her feet?

      She patiently assured him that she was still following the doctor’s orders, and when they hung up shortly after, assumed that would be the last she heard from him in a while. But he called again the next morning.

      Had she gotten a full eight hours sleep? She wasn’t drinking coffee, was she? And since country breakfasts were often laden with saturated fats, she should consider fruit and an egg-white omelet as a substitute.

      She assured him again, maybe not quite so patiently this time, that she knew what to do. And she was only a little surprised when he called later in the day to say he’d been doing research on the internet and needed her email address so he could send her