He cut a purposeful glance over his shoulder. “Better yet, we could drop down and go for it right there on the couch. How ’bout it, Jessie? You want the top or do you prefer the bottom?”
Tears swam at the corners of her eyes. “This isn’t like you. You’re being crude.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Jessie? My sperm? Nothing else matters. Since you’ve worked out all the details of my payment, you’ll probably have a contract you want me to sign.
“Oh, and dates. I’ll expect a calendar with your most fertile days circled, that way we can schedule our sexual rendezvous. Or we could just go at it for an entire month. I wrap up most of my ranch work around dusk. I could come for dinner and stay as long as it took.”
Her outrageous proposal had struck at the heart of his principles. Men were meant to be lovers, providers, helpmates, spouses, protectors...fathers.
They weren’t supposed to be disposable, interchangeable donors.
To have her throw his ideals and beliefs in his face rankled. She saw him as a means to her ends. She’d stung his pride, oh yeah, but so much more. She’d taken everything he prided and defiled it.
Jessie still had a thing or two to learn about life.
Before he taught them to her, here and now, he moved his hand, curving it around her shoulder again. “What happens if you don’t get pregnant right away? Will you want to keep sleeping together? How long shall we give it? Two months? Three? Six?”
“You’ve misunderstood this whole thing.” A furious blush painted her cheeks. “We, er, wouldn’t need to actually, you know...”
Jessie’s voice trailed off as his brows drew together sharply.
“Go on.” If you dare.
Kurt wondered if Jessie realized how tenuous his hold on his temper truly was. The ends were fraying, threatening to unravel, or worse, snap completely.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Sorry.” He wasn’t. Nor did he loosen his grip.
She averted her gaze.
“Look at me, Jessie. You’re asking me to get you pregnant. Face those realities, if nothing else.”
Her lips were parted slightly and he noticed the tip of her tongue. Pink and moist.
Jeez.
Why the hell was he noticing little things about her now? That was the last thing he wanted to do. She’d insulted him, trespassed on the grounds of their friendship, tried to buy his services.
He shouldn’t be noticing her as a desirable woman.
But he was noticing just that...the sight of her perfectly shaped lips, the softness of her skin, the feel of her in his arms, the fact that she smelled as fresh as a stroll through a rain-washed meadow.
Dark blond hair teased her face and shoulders. Absently he wondered how the strands would feel against his chest. Silky and sexy?
Unconsciously his hold tightened. Stifling a gasp, she dragged her lower lip between her teeth. Kurt forced his fingers to relax.
Never before in his life had he touched a woman in anger, not even when Belinda betrayed him. With a few, well-placed words, Jessie had changed all that, goading him into something he hadn’t known he was capable of.
She finally followed his instructions, looking up at him. Her wide eyes and luminous gaze asked for something unspoken. Understanding, compassion maybe. In that moment, he was capable of granting neither.
“There’s a clinic in Denver,” she said quietly.
When he didn’t respond, she cleared her throat. “I can get pregnant without...”
“Yes?” He barely managed the word.
“There’s this procedure that you can do in the doctor’s office... You could go one day and I can go there another...” Color suddenly swamped her face again, obliterating even the traces of her makeup. “I’m saying that we wouldn’t actually have to make love or anything.”
“Wouldn’t have to...” He trailed off and reality sliced through him, as if he’d plowed headlong into barbed wire. “You want me to do it in a cup?”
She put her hands in supplicate against his chest. “Kurt, wait, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Insulted barely began to define it. Blood thundered through him, demanding action. “You don’t want a man, a marriage, or even a relationship. You don’t want me. All you want is my donation? At a clinic? In a cup?”
She winced.
Fury threatened to devour everything and everyone in his path. “Let’s get this straight, Jessica Stephens, right here, right now. The answer’s no. Not just no, but hell, no.
“If I ever become a father, I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Skin to naked skin.
“There won’t be any contracts, or doctors, or agreements.” His voice dropped by a hostile octave. “If I ever have a baby, it will be the result of lovemaking, soft and sweet, hard and fast, but lovemaking, by every definition of the word.”
She paled.
“I’d be married, Jessie, and my wife would have my complete and total commitment. There would be no payment, except an emotional one. And that cost would be high. I’d demand everything she had to offer
“We’d take off each other’s clothes, and when my finger touched her here...” He illustrated, opening a second button on Jessie’s blouse.
She drew in her breath sharply and he continued, “Yeah, just like that, she’d react like that, and more. She’d reach for my belt buckle and we would tumble onto the bed together.”
His callused finger grazed the skin right above the clasp that joined her bra. Her eyes widened.
“I’d bring her to a climax, listen to her call out my name.” Rather than diminish, his anger continued to simmer. “Any baby of mine will be conceived when I’m buried deep inside my wife. There will be mutual love and passion, and it will create life.
“It’ll be more than just sex, and a hell of a lot more than what you want.”
Silence crackled.
“You asked the wrong man.”
With that, he released her and watched her shoulders slump. He hardened his heart against the tears clinging to her eyelashes.
“Kurt...” She swiped at the tears. “I understand what you’re saying.” Her words were rushed and unsure. “If the only way you’d agree is if we did it, you know, the old-fashioned way, then I guess we could.”
Just what he wanted. A martyr in his bed.
“You didn’t understand a word I said,” he snapped. Kurt grabbed at his self-control. He strode to the far side of the room, where the fire feasted on a log. “Forget it, Jessie.”
She lowered her head and hid her expression.
“If you thought I could do this, Jessie, you don’t know me.”
Humiliation flooded over her. “No.” Jessie mentally cursed her voice for cracking and betraying her inner emotions. “I guess I don’t.”
Her fingers shook as she refastened the buttons he’d opened. Her skin burned where he’d touched her, making the mortification complete. She could barely breathe, let alone speak. Words rough and scratchy, she fumbled over an apology.
Since he was on the other side of the room, Jessie seized the opportunity to flee, rushing from his study, then yanking open the front door and dragging it shut behind her.
The tears that