Scandalous: Scandalized!. Lori Foster

years. I’ve already been checked, and the doctor assures me I should possess sufficient potency to see the job done.”

      Olivia drew a deep breath and then held out her hand. “So. Do we have a deal?”

      He was so aroused, he knew his hand would shake like the skinny branches on the naked tree shadowing the park, but he took her small palm in his anyway. His voice was little more than a croak when he said, “A deal.”

      “When do we start?”

      She may as well have said, when do you want to see me naked and touch me and come inside me, because the effect was the same. He had trouble drawing a breath as images too erotic to bear shot through his already muddled brain. It took all his masculine power to bring himself back in order. “I suppose you should find out when you’re…” He gulped, then forged manfully onward. “When you’re most fertile. Do you, ah, keep track of such things?”

      “Of course. All women do, if they don’t want to be taken by surprise. How about if I let you know, then we’ll see what works for both of us?”

      It irritated him no end that she could speak so calmly after practically ordering him to pleasure her, to make certain he loved her in a way she would never forget. His brain was busy concentrating on the myriad ways he’d see the job done; he could barely form coherent words, damn her. “That’s fine.”

      “I’ll look at my calendar, find out exactly when I’m most likely to conceive, and then I’ll call you.”

      “And you will take my home number now, Olivia. I don’t want to miss your call if I’m not in the office when…when you’re ready.”

      Her smile now was confident and made his insides twist. “Whatever you say, Tony.”

      Tony merely gulped, wondering if she would say that when she was naked beneath him, her thighs open, her womb ready to receive him and his sperm, her body his. He kept silent, words well beyond him, and determined to see the job done as quickly as possible. It was the only way to save his sanity.

      OLIVIA SPENT THE REST of the weekend boning up on fertility procedures. Though she didn’t really have a regular cycle that could be timed and knew there was no chance she’d get pregnant, she thought it would still be easier to do things in the proper course, just so Tony wouldn’t get suspicious. She had to be able to claim a day her period would be due, so Tony wouldn’t think they’d been precipitous in their efforts.

      When she decided to claim her best time would be that weekend, she suffered through a mixture of anticipation, guilt and plain old self-doubt. But she shook off her insecurities. Monday, after the new contract arrived, just as Tony had said it would, she used it as an excuse to get in touch with him.

      She rushed the contract past her lawyer, insisting he give it top priority. If he thought her request unusual, he didn’t say so. He returned it, with a few minor changes, the next day. Olivia forced herself to take another day to look it over, but she okay’d it without her usual relentless perusal, then picked up the phone to set up a business luncheon through Tony’s secretary. It was only Wednesday morning, four days after she’d gotten Tony’s agreement, and already it felt like forever since the deal had been made.

      Just as she hoped, his secretary came back with the news that Tony could make time to see her at their usual restaurant. They’d met there before to discuss business, but today was different. Olivia left her office with the contract in her briefcase, along with a book on fertility and an anticipatory smile on her face.

      TONY WAS ALREADY SEATED when she arrived. He’d chosen an isolated table at the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes and ears. Olivia silently approved his choice, and forced herself to greet him in a normal, businesslike manner. Tony stood until she was seated, his eyes never leaving her, then waited while the waitress handed them menus. Very few things, including excitement, ever dampened her appetite so she ordered a lunch of rich soup and a salad.

      Tony surveyed her a moment longer, then asked, “You have a problem with the agreement I sent you?”

      Olivia waved away his concern. “We only made a few minor alterations.”

      “You always have alterations, Olivia, but I’d rarely call them minor.”

      She grinned. He was right, after all. She was a shark, but proud of it. “You can’t expect me to blindly accept rules of your making, now can you, Tony? The revised contract will suit my purpose much better, as you’ll see.”

      He gave her a small smile. “I don’t doubt I’ll approve it. I seldom win with you.”

      The way he said that, with a touch of pride, confused her. Could he have been telling the complete truth, not just trying to gain her acceptance of his plan? Did he truly admire her business skills? She felt warmed by the very idea, especially since most of her other male associates either seemed intimidated by her or resentful of her confidence.

      She sent Tony a cheeky grin and said, “You win all too often, anyway. Losing on occasion is good for your character.”

      “But winning’s more fun.” Then he held up a hand. “In this case, though, you didn’t have to bother your lawyer. I already told you I’d give you whatever you wanted.”

      “No.”

      “Beg your pardon?”

      Olivia wanted to make her point perfectly clear. Her conscience was nagging her enough about manipulating him emotionally. She certainly couldn’t do so professionally, too. “I want this latest agreement to stand on its own, Tony. It doesn’t have anything to do with…the other. Look over the agreement, judge it the same way you would any other, then get back to me.”

      “And you’ll relent if I don’t approve of your changes?”

      “Absolutely not.” She gave him another grin. “But I fully expect to have to work for them if they’re not to your liking.”

      He looked amused, his chin propped in his palm, his elbow on the table. Then his gaze dropped to his napkin and he said, “Do you have anything else to discuss with me, Olivia?”

      It was more than obvious what he was asking. She set down her salad fork and then pushed her plate to the side. After hefting her briefcase into her lap, she pulled out a slim volume on fertility and flipped the book open to the page she had marked.

      Tony merely stared, his slouched position not so slouched now.

      “I’ve been reading up on our latest subject, and it seems this weekend will be my most promising time. According to this book, I should be ovulating on Saturday, give or take a day.”

      “So you’re due in two weeks? Right at the end of the deadline you set?”

      Her two week time limit. Get her pregnant by then, or the deal was off. She almost groaned at her own audacity.

      “That’s right. Two weeks exactly.” Actually she’d pulled that ridiculous number out of the air, just as she’d done with the deadline. She wouldn’t conceive, not with only one ovary. And her periods were irregular, often nonexistent, so there was no true time frame. You couldn’t get pregnant if you didn’t ovulate, which was a fact she’d been living with for a very long time.

      It was pure coincidence that she’d set up her most fertile time to fall precisely within her deadline. She glanced up and wished she wore reading glasses, just to provide her with a bit of camouflage. But despite her embarrassment, she was determined to follow through. Tony had been more than a little reluctant to agree to her terms, and if this was to be her one big romantic rendezvous, she wanted his wholehearted involvement. She needed his wholehearted involvement. As with any deal, success required planning. And Olivia had formulated her plan well. By the time she was finished with him, Tony would be beyond ready; he’d be anxious.

      She braced herself and said, “I think I can get a few days away. How about you?”

      “A few days?”

      “Well