Page 16 of The Bargain

Sorry, sweet boy, that's going to be enough for one day,I told Timmy before turning around and hurrying back to the house before hypothermia got us.

When I walked in and the delicious heat surrounded me, I shivered. Closing my eyes, I let out a blissful sigh. I could finally feel my face again.

I opened my eyes to meet Dean Beaumont’s cold orbs. He was impeccably dressed in a dark-blue Prince of Wales checkered slim-fit three-piece suit. Did he ever dress down? I would have laughed in amusement if I didn't dislike the man so much.

“Mr. Beaumont,” I greeted as I removed a now dozing Timmy from his baby carrier.

Fresh air was the trick with my sweet boy. It always made him sleepy and I was already looking forward to reading the book I'd picked up last night in the library. While he slept, I’d sit on the rocking chair by the window in his bedroom, which overlooked a small duck pond.

“Ms. Collins,” he replied just as formally.

I’d given up on the idea to even try with this man. He hated me on principle and for unknown sins.

I rested Timmy on the kitchen table to remove his suit before setting him back in the baby carrier.

I shivered again, the cold from our walk still anchored inside me.

“Your test came back negative,” he added.

“Okay.” At least he had the courtesy to give me the results this time, not that I'd ever had any doubt.

“Jeremy Hunt called me back. He will be seeing Timothy on Monday upon his return from New York,” he continued.

That was progress. Timmy had gone from ‘the child’ to Timothy. I looked at Dean. Did he think he was explaining himself though? Who was Jeremy Hunt?

He sighed with annoyance. Lord, what was wrong with this man! I annoyed him just by standing here.

“I told you about the world-renowned pediatric surgeon that would be monitoring Timothy’s treatment.”

I nodded. “Yes, you mentioned him, but never by name.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I assume you will want to come with us, so you will need to be ready by 7:30 sharp. He is seeing us before his first appointment.”

I would have loved to see him try to stop me. Timmy was my heart, nothing and no one could keep me away from him, including the terrifying Dean Beaumont.

I shivered again, the cold from the frigid wind still deep in my bones despite the warmth of the kitchen. I regretted going out, but maybe a hot shower would help.

I looked up at Dean, who was not really looking at me anymore. Rather, he was detailing my clothes.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked, detailing my leggings and thin long-sleeved shirts.

I didn't understand the question. He was probably trying to belittle me as usual, but I'd missed the punchline this time.

He pointed at my clothes and I’ve never felt more out of place than under his critical eyes.

“Whether I like it or not, you’re the mother of the Beaumont’ heir. This -" he pointed at my beaten-up shoes - "will clearly not do. You can’t go around looking like you live in a trailer park.”

“What’s wrong with the trailer park?” There were good, hard-working people in trailer parks. I knew that for a fact.

He rolled his eyes. “And what about this jacket?” He pointed at the rack, his mouth tipped down in disgust. “We’re in February, not June.”

Was he stupid? Did he think I would not have worn a better coat if I had one?

I just looked at him silently. I would not grace his stupid assumption with a comment.

His eyes widened, finally understanding. “I see,” he sighed, straightening his single-breasted suit jacket. “Lets go.”

“Where?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion

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