Page 50 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
As the clients filed out, discussing next steps among themselves, I caught Tessa's eye and saw the flush of satisfaction on her face.
"That was impressive," I said when we were alone. "You saved that deal."
"We saved it," she corrected, but I could see the pride in her expression.
"No, that was all you. I was ready to walk away last week when they were bucking at every single thing I presented. You turned it around completely." I gathered my papers from the conference table, thinking about how she'd handled every objection with professionalism. "You realize what this means for your future here, don't you? This kind of performance opens doors."
Her smile faltered slightly, and she looked out at the bay rather than meeting my eyes. "Yes, well I have to do something with my career if motherhood is going to pan out for me." A glimmer of a smile crossed her features as she glanced up at me, then focused on packing her laptop in her bag.
The mention of her IVF plans made my jaw clench involuntarily. I'd been hoping she'd forgotten about that particular goal, or at least postponed it indefinitely.
The thought of her carrying another man's child, even an anonymous donor's, made something dark and possessive twist in my chest.
"Have you looked into the logistics yet?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral despite the turmoil in my head.
"I've done the research, scheduled consultations. The process takes time, so I want to start soon. Maybe this summer." She had a light and happy tone, and though it suited her, I hated that something other than me brought it about. Which instantly made me feel like a total jerk.
I nodded as if I found the conversation perfectly reasonable, as if the idea of her deliberately getting pregnant with someone else's genetic material didn't make me want to put my fist through the conference room's pristine glass wall.
I had no right to feel this way—no claim on her body, her choices, her future. We weren't in a relationship, despite the growing tension between us.
She was free to make whatever decisions she wanted about motherhood. And she deserved to be happy too, really happy.
There was no way I would ever be able to provide what she wanted in life, not with our huge age difference. She was better off following her well-laid plans and I knew it.
That didn't make it easier to stomach.
"You'd make an excellent mother," I said, and I meant it. After watching her handle Blake and seeing her insights about my relationship with my children, I had no doubt she'd be everything a child could want. "Any child would be lucky to have you."
She smiled at the compliment, but I could see uncertainty in her expression. "I hope so. I worry sometimes that I'm being selfish, wanting to do this alone. But I can't keep waiting for the perfect partner to materialize. I'm twenty-six. If I want children, I need to make it happen."
I found myself staring at her, imagining her pregnant with my child instead of some faceless donor's.
The thought came unbidden—Tessa carrying a baby that was half mine, her body changing as our child grew inside her.The possessiveness that gripped me was primal and completely inappropriate.
"Lucian?" Her voice broke through my thoughts. "You're staring."
I blinked, refocusing on her face. "Sorry. I was thinking about the job you did today. How much potential you have."
It wasn't entirely a lie. I had been thinking about her potential—just not in the context she assumed.
"Let's go get dinner and rest," she suggested, and I followed her lead, as I'd been doing all day. But I used my phone as a distraction in the car so I could calm myself down and not lash out at her.
At least I was smart enough to know my bad reaction to her was my problem to deal with and that she deserved better.
Back at the hotel, we took the elevator to my suite on the twentieth floor. The room had a private balcony overlooking the ocean, and the setting sun painted the water in shades of gold and crimson.
I ordered champagne from room service to celebrate the successful presentation, and we stood outside watching boats move across the horizon.
"This is beautiful," Tessa said, leaning against the balcony railing. The ocean breeze moved through her hair, and the champagne had brought color to her cheeks. "I can see why people move to places like this and never leave."
"The weather has its appeal," I agreed, though I was more focused on the way the dying light played across her skin than the scenic view. "Different pace of life than Chicago."
She laughed. "I can't imagine you anywhere with a slow pace of life. You'd be bored within a week."
"Maybe. Or maybe I'd surprise myself." I moved closer to her, close enough to smell her perfume mixed with the salty air."Today proved that people can change, grow into things they didn't expect."
She turned to face me, and I could see the champagne had made her bold. "Is that what I did? Grew into something unexpected?"
