Baby for the Billionaire(117)

“He knows that Thomas and I tried IVF and that it was unsuccessful. So we talked to a specialist. From my medical records, she thinks there’s still a chance I could get pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“But only if we can find an egg donor,” Suzy finished in a rush, pulling her hands free and, after a quick glance at Victoria, turning away to retrieve her bridal bouquet off the bed behind them.

“You want me to be your donor?” For a moment Victoria wondered what would be involved. Pain. Expense. All sorts of stuff she’d never had to contemplate before. Victoria took in Suzy’s tense figure, the way she hunched over her wedding bouquet as she waited for Victoria’s reply. What was some physical discomfort compared to Suzy’s pain? Suzy had already lost one husband because of her inability to conceive, and while Michael loved her, it would be understandable that she feared his love would diminish as time passed and other couples they knew started to conceive.

Suzy was more than a friend. She was the sister Victoria had never had. Her only family. The person she owed more than she could ever give back. “Of course I’ll do it. Consider it a gift. My wedding gift to you and Michael.” To help this marriage hold together. To bring Suzy the happiness she richly deserved.

Instantly she was enfolded in a fierce hug, and the fragrance from the posy of white roses and gardenias Suzy clutched wafted around them.

“Thank you!” Suzy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled back. “That’s the best gift ever … even if it doesn’t work out and there’s no baby, I’ll never forget this.”

“Miracles have been known to happen. And no one deserves this miracle more than you, Suz.” Victoria felt her own throat clogging up. “Help, now you’re making me cry.”

Suzy gave her a radiant smile. “It’s okay to cry at weddings—so long as it’s the happy kind of crying. Now let’s get back downstairs—I intend to dance the night away.”

Connor wasn’t at the wedding table.

Michael thinks I need a woman. Victoria couldn’t get his mocking words out of her head. Maybe he’d decided to follow the groom’s advice and find a willing female. There would be no shortage of them among the guests.

Searching the dance floor, Victoria couldn’t pick out his dark hair and tall figure, which should have towered above everyone else. She drifted around the edge of the polished wooden floor and finally spotted him standing near the open glass doors that led out onto a wide veranda.

He turned his head as if he knew she was watching him and met her gaze. Without a word, he headed for the doors and Victoria followed automatically, drawn against all good sense.

“So do you want to dance out here in the starlight?” He stood in the shadows of the balcony, leaning against the railing, moonlight casting a strange silver-and-black glow over his face.

Her breath caught in her throat. The music spilled through the doors, a slow, sweet, seductive beat. It would take only two steps to bring her into his arms, to feel the heat of his body close to hers again. No. Madness! “The moon’s too bright tonight to speak of starlight.”

His white teeth glittered as he grinned. “You’re probably right—but then I’m sure you make a career of being right.”

He pushed away from the railing and moved toward her. “So do you concur with Michael, that the warmth of a woman’s body is what I need?” The words cut through the night.

Victoria swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Why hadn’t she just minded her own business? He wasn’t the kind of man to play with.

“If you don’t want to dance, what are you looking for? Are you here to offer yourself?” he murmured huskily. “It’s supposed to be one of the delights of being the best man, hooking up with the maid of honor. What fun.”

Victoria found nothing amusing in his biting tone. “No.” She backed up but, before she could retreat, his arms came around her and he lowered his head.

“Don’t—” she managed, and then his mouth ground down on hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Full of whiskey and force and anger, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Victoria struggled but his grip was tight, pinning her arms at her sides. He moved closer, his thighs thrusting against her softness, making it clear he was aroused.

God.

She fought herself free. “What the hell was that about?”

“I don’t like being manipulated.” He was breathing hard. “I don’t want a woman, understand?”