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Womb For Rent Part 1

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Womb for Rent.

Amanda Brian.

PROLOGUE

The wedding was perfect in every sense of the word. Soon to be heralded as the "Talk of the Town." So as not to miss anything going on around her, the local gossip columnist, an old and dear friend of the bride's parents, scribbled notes as fast and furiously as she could. Four hundred wedding guests milled inside the Covington Ballroom. The room was filled to capacity. Opulent bouquets of white roses adorned each table setting. Crystal candelabras graced the tables, their flickering flames twinkling off the champagne flutes beneath them.

The elegant red-haired bride stood smiling at her many guests, resplendent in an exquisite white satin gown, yards and yards of train cascaded down the winding mahogany staircase to pool at her pet.i.te white satin covered feet.



The groom exuded confidence with his every stride as he crossed the ballroom. Exuberant congratulations and hearty back slapping followed in his wake. Women stared openly in l.u.s.t at him, while every man in the room wished he could command that kind of silent respect. His tuxedo fit snugly across his muscular chest, the inky blackness mirrored his ebony eyes. The bride was indeed a very lucky woman.

Waiters wove their way silently through the throng of wedding guests, their emerald green bow ties and c.u.mmerbunds a glaring contrast to the pristine white tux's they wore.

Champagne flowed down a three-tiered fountain to cascade into priceless champagne flutes placed in readiness. Caviar surrounded the base of the fountain, their tiny beads reminiscent of red and black jewels under the soft glow from the chandeliers. No expense had been spared for this event.

The bride and groom met at the center of the lace-covered bridal table. Lifting Lydia's fingers to his lips, Derek Cameron brushed a gentle kiss across her knuckles as his ebony eyes caught and held her own soft gaze.

"Happy darling?"he inquired coolly, his eyes searching her face.

A bit confused, Lydia smiled shyly at her new husband and nodded.

Sterling silver spoons chimed against Baccarat crystal to draw the guest's attention forward, as Gary Brooks, Derek's best man, held up his champagne flute in celebration.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please. As best man and longtime friend of both the bride and groom, I would like to propose a toast." He turned to smile at Derek and Lydia. "May the stars be your guide as you ride off into the sunset to find your happiness."

Derek involuntarily choked as a sip of champagne went down the wrong way at Gary's choice of words.

Lifting their gla.s.ses high, a resounding chorus of hear - hear's filled the room.

Derek lowered his gla.s.s and faced the crowd before him. "Honored guests, I would like to thank you all for coming today, but unfortunately there will be no happy ending to this marriage. On Monday, I'm having it annulled." He set the flute on the table and surveyed the room.

Horrified gasps echoed throughout the ballroom. Whispered words mixed with shocked murmurs flew rampant.

"If you would all be so kind as to flip over your place cards, you will see the reason for my announcement,"he continued.

Confused guests and family alike reached in perplexed unison for the engraved place markers. Attached securely to the porcelain base was a photograph. Not just any photograph though. This one showed the newly wedded bride, her red hair standing out like a halo, seated astride the thrusting hips of Derek's best man Gary. Gary wore nothing more than his birthday suit, whereas the bride was decked out in a white cowboy hat and boots, with silver sheriff badges gracing her ample b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Upon seeing the photo, Lydia pressed a shaky hand to her lips, burst into tears and fled the ballroom. Her fifteen attendants trailed nervously in her wake.

Gary sunk back down on his chair and swallowed what was left of his champagne in a hearty gulp.

Derek watched the chaos erupt around him. Calmly stepping out from behind the bridal table, he motioned to a pa.s.sing waiter.

The young man hurried his steps to Derek's side. Lifting three unopened bottles of Dom Perignon from the serving tray, Derek smiled at the nameless server. "Now, I plan on spending my wedding night getting rip-snorting drunk."

CHAPTER 1 - FIVE YEARS LATER.

The early February sun shone brightly through the puffy white clouds as Talli Paxton watched the four frantic dogs bound across the frozen lawn, each eager to begin their morning exercises. Talli's long, auburn ponytail swung playfully with her movements as she jogged backward toward the pool house.

Getting this job was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She bent down and quickly retied her sneaker lace to prepare herself for the canine cavalcade rapidly approaching her . They clamored for her attention--barks and bays, punctuated by short yips of glee. Her hand held out in front of her, she spoke softly, yet firmly to the dogs. "Sit."

In unison, all four of their furry b.u.t.ts plopped in a scraggly row on the frost covered gra.s.s. Tails wagging and tongues lolling, they looked to her for further instruction.

"Good dogs." She patted each one on the head in turn, taking a few seconds to scratch their favorite spots.

"Jack, what's new big guy?" The male Dalmatian sat preening, his sleek coat smooth in the morning sun. Moving on, she ran her hands over Mary, Jack's female counterpart.

"Mary, my girl, how are you?" Mary panted against Talli's cold hand, bringing warmth to her chilled fingers.

Next to the Dalmatians sat two wiggling Ba.s.set Hounds. Talli knelt down beside the pair, her hands caressed their soft muzzles as she pressed her cheek against theirs.

"George, Gracie, how are my wiggle worms?" The two hounds squirmed delightedly under her touch. Talli lowered herself slowly to the cold cement bench at the edge of the garden, surrounded by the four excited pooches. "Good dogs."

For roughly fifteen minutes, both Talli and the dogs enjoyed the morning breeze.

Talli looked around the ma.s.sive grounds in appreciation. After working here only six months, Cameron Manor already felt like home.

Consummate business professional Derek Cameron had hired her to be his live-in, full-time dog sitter. She had her own room in the main house, plus a car for her use. She looked down at her four charges and smiled. Working with animals was something Talli had always wanted to do. Even as a young child, she was forever bringing home the sick puppy or orphaned kitten or, much to her mother's dismay, an injured wild critter. Throughout the years, Talli pursued her interest in animals at various veterinarian office's and obedience facilities. It was at Yuppy-Puppy Pet Care that she spotted Derek Cameron's advertis.e.m.e.nt for live-in pet care. She had jumped at the opportunity and was hired on the spot.

What more could a girl from the wrong side of the tracks ask for? This was a far cry from the one story wood frame home she had once shared with her mother.

Talli's green gaze sought out Derek's bedroom window in the elegant red brick mansion. Rarely did their paths cross for more than a few brief minutes per day. On the occasions when they did, Talli found herself openly staring at her employer. Derek Cameron always looked as though he had just stepped off the cover of a men's fas.h.i.+on magazine. His clothes radiated opulence and wealth, his looks were drop dead gorgeous. Jet black hair threaded through with strands of silver framed rugged handsomeness. His ebony eyes silently spoke his requests and Talli would have willingly done anything he asked if her gaze lingered too long on his.

She allowed her thoughts to wander. What did Derek Cameron wear to bed behind those windows? Black silk boxers to match his eyes? Or maybe nothing at all. Inwardly s.h.i.+vering, she rose from the bench. It wasn't like she knocked on his door all hours of the night, asking inane questions about the dogs, just to see what he was or wasn't wearing. Get a grip on yourself Talli, she mentally scolded. It's time to stop thinking about your employer and get on with your duties. Lately, she'd found herself lost in daydreams involving her boss. Unfortunately, that's all they were, just daydreams. Talli knew in her heart there was no way this side of heaven or h.e.l.l, Derek Cameron would ever look upon her as anything more than an employee.

Even back in high school, Derek never paid her any attention, but then why would he? She was a n.o.body, a tall, skinny fourteen year old. Talli remembered one incident when their paths had crossed. During study hall in the library, her nose buried in a book, Talli didn't see the boy pull her chair away as she went to sit down. The book flew from her hands, as she fought to regain her balance. The resulting boom as she and the textbook hit the cement floor had caused the other students to snicker at her misfortune.

Like Sir Lancelot, Derek had appeared out of nowhere, helping her up, scowling darkly at the offending student. Mortified, Talli had tried to turn away, but his hand held her still.

"Are you all right?" he'd asked.

She looked up at him, dressed menacingly head to toe in black leather, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and a large purple bruise covering the right side of his cheek, worn proudly like a battle scar. Talli had heard the rumors, how his father drank too much and took his anger out on Derek and his mother.

"My knight in s.h.i.+ning armor," she blurted out without thinking, then bit her lip wis.h.i.+ng she could take back the childish words.

"Baby, this knight's tarnished." He smiled at her, his guard down for a brief second as tenderness replaced the fierce look he normally wore.

"Not to me," she whispered, ducking her head shyly.

"You're sweet kid, stay that way." He patted her on the top of her head and sauntered away.

Talli relived the moment as if it were yesterday. She could still feel the warmth of his hand against her arm, his touch atop her head. She doubted Derek even remembered the incident. His eyes showed no sign of recognition when she interviewed for the dog sitting position and she was loathe to bring it up. Part of her hoped he would remember her, but for what? She could never be a part of his world and travel in the same circles as he. No, instead she would be content to care for his dogs and enjoy all the opportunity had to offer.

The gangly adolescent was gone, replaced by a tall, auburn haired woman with flas.h.i.+ng green eyes. Yet the puppy love she kept buried all those years remained, hidden under a cool facade. Though she would never have the opportunity to possess his heart, at least she was able to live in his house and know that she was near him. With a sigh Talli whistled for the dogs. Time to get down to business.

Derek Cameron brought his fingers up to rest lightly on his chin. "So Mr. Maxwell, tell me again why this is the deal of a lifetime?" Derek's long dark eyelashes hid the brooding look in his ebony eyes as he scanned the boardroom.

A short portly gentleman in a rumpled, striped seersucker suit nervously twisted an orange plaid tie, and rose from his seat at the end of the eight-foot-long teak conference table.

"Uh, you see Mr. Cameron, we at Wardell Industries feel a merger between Cameron Creations and Wardell would open up a whole new set of avenues for both companies. Cameron Creations is already a household name with Wardell following a close second." The man paused to draw a breath. "With a minimal investment on your part, say one million dollars, we can guarantee a fifty percent return on your money within one fiscal year."

Derek's piercing dark eyes revealed no emotion as he openly studied the group before him. He had done his research on Wardell Industries and now watched their top negotiator ply his trade.

Clayton Maxwell finished his presentation and sank back into the richly upholstered chair, his plump hand dotting nervously at his damp brow.

Derek looked around the table, taking in the anxious faces before him. He studied each one briefly before moving on to the next. Lowering his hands to the table's edge, he rose to his feet in a fluid motion. "Gentleman, I wish to thank you for giving me the first opportunity at such an offer." He crossed the floor and opened the ornately decorated door, emblazoned with the large black letters C and C. As he walked through it, he paused, staring at the men sitting frozen around the table.

Derek met the muddled gaze of Clayton Maxwell. "By the way, have your lawyers draw up the contracts. I'll sign them first thing in the morning."

Back in his own quiet office, Derek stared at the familiar Windsor skyline outside his window. From his vantage downtown Detroit location, he could see far and wide on both sides of the river. The gla.s.s and steel structures lining the water caught and held the afternoon light. His eyes focused on the Amba.s.sador Bridge, as he watched the steady stream of traffic inching across the mammoth steel and concrete structure outlined against the setting sun in the spring sky. Surrounded by the opulent trappings he had created for himself, Derek suddenly felt very alone.

He let his body slide downward in the chair and sat staring out the window as the day lengthened. Shadows grew longer as dusk descended. A soft knock and a slim shaft of light broke into his reverie.

"Mr. Cameron, It's six-thirty. Is there anything else you require before I leave for the night?"

Derek swivelled to face the silhouette of his secretary in the doorway. "Thank you, but no, I'm fine. Have a pleasant evening, Margaret."

"You too, sir. Goodnight."

He watched her pull the door shut leaving him facing the dark portal. Behind him, the lights of the city twinkled. The city came alive after sunset. The Canadian sh.o.r.eline speckled with a profusion of bright lights, neon signs and a mult.i.tude of sounds. Across the desk, his private fax machine beeped. Derek reached over the cabinet to snap on the desk lamp and picked up the transmission.

Minutes later he wadded the message into a ball and tossed it into the waste basket. Then he reached for and turned out the desk light. Derek leaned back in his black leather chair with a sigh. The message had been a birth announcement, heralding the arrival of twins. That made five kids in as many years for Lydia and Gary. Still, going strong from the looks of things.

After the wedding fiasco, Lydia and Gary eloped barely three months later. A quickie ceremony in Las Vegas to offset the "premature" birth of their baby girl. Now, the total Brooks clan had grown to five, three girls and a set of twin boys! Obviously, Lydia had married the right man.

At one time, revenge had been sweet as he wrecked havoc at his own wedding. Now, he could hardly remember that fateful day due to the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

Even though the memory and pain lay etched deep down in his heart, Derek knew he and Lydia never would have been able to make a go of it. She needed a man who would be there for her - not someone traveling thirty-nine weeks out of the year. She needed someone to share her days and nights with--not a workaholic such as himself. Five years ago, he and Lydia had dated for such a long time, everyone a.s.sumed they would marry. Back then, marriage would have been the next natural step. Now, he realized the folly of his thoughts. He was no woman's prize. Not him. He was a work-driven, hard-core loner.

He saw it more and more as the years pa.s.sed. His face appeared in the society pages on a regular basis, usually with a stunning blonde or ravis.h.i.+ng brunette on his arm. Never seen with the same woman twice. Derek Cameron was touted as society's most eligible bachelor according to the local rag mags and he planned to keep it that way for a very long time. The less of a personal life he had, the better off he would be. Yet, there were still times...times when the Christmas cards arrived, filled with pictures of Lydia and Gary, holding the children close and smiling for the camera. A perfect family scene.

Every now and then, those moments tugged at the strings of his heart. Lately, the moments were coming way too often. Something had to be done about it, but what?

Derek sat alone in the dark and stared out the window. He was thirty years old, no family and no true friends to speak of. What did he have to look forward to in life? The holidays pa.s.sed in quiet solitude at Cameron Manor, with only the household staff in attendance. Of course he received invitations to all the prominent social functions in town, but holidays were different. He didn't feel comfortable intruding on family times, so he choose to decline the requests.

How many times had Maimie told him to get out and find himself a real woman. Not those "dyed and fried" versions, as she called them, that he dated. He smiled wryly and allowed himself an opportunity to reflect. His own housekeeper knew more about him than he did. Sometimes he thought she might be right; other times he wasn't so sure.

His only attempt at marriage had been an unmitigated disaster. Not one he planned on repeating! Growing up in a divorced home, listening to the all-night fights had taken their toll. Words spoken in a drunken stupor reverberated in his head.

Derek remembered the pride on his mother's face, the tears sliding down her cheeks as he walked across the auditorium stage to accept his diploma. His father was drunk at home, uncaring and unwilling to put down the bottle for anyone or anything. Derek had been the only one in his family to graduate from high school. After the ceremony was over, he handed his mother the slim parchment and tenderly kissed her, trying not to notice the black and blue bruise that covered most of her left cheek.

His father's verbal and physical abuse rang in his ears, even after all these years. The sounds of breaking gla.s.s mingled with explosive outbursts dogged his steps. Fights followed by his father's broken promises, half spoken truths tailed by out and out lies. If only he had intervened sooner on his mother's behalf, maybe she would still be alive today. The "if only's" were creeping back up on him again.

He closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to drift toward the small yellowed obituary tucked safely away in the recesses of his wallet. The only remainder of the parents he once knew.

Minutes later, the front legs of the chair hit the floor with a loud thump. Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was so simple. With a swipe at the lamp, Derek bathed the office in light. He blinked momentarily, then grabbed the phone and punched in a set of numbers. As he cradled the receiver to his ear, he quickly scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad.

"Anthony, Derek Cameron here. Listen, do you have time to meet tonight? There's an urgent matter I need to go over with you. No, nothing to do with Cameron Creations. More on a personal note. I'll meet you there. Thanks, Anthony." Derek dropped the receiver back down and surveyed his notes. This might just work!

Beer sloshed over the sides of the frosted mug, spilling out on the scarred wood surface of the table.

Derek watched Anthony Baretti ram plump fingers through his thinning hair, then groan. "Are you nuts? You'd have to be to believe this would work! Derek, this has to be the craziest idea you've ever come up with." Anthony shook his head and took a healthy swallow of his beer.

Derek smiled at his longtime friend and most trusted confidant. Anthony tended to over-react at times, but never like this. He picked up his own mug, took a slow drink and watched the older man's emotions play across his face. Sputtered words hastened along by disbelief, followed by outrage, then disbelief again.

Anthony verbally listed a dozen reasons why Derek's idea was harebrained, but offered no solid negative response in return.

When his tirade of protests slowed, Derek sat his mug on the table and smiled. "Finished yet?"

"No, yes--well maybe. I'm not sure. How serious are you about this c.o.c.kamamie idea of yours?"

"Very," Derek stated calmly.

"Well then, I'm not finished."

Derek held up a hand. "Give me a chance to explain. Then lambaste my idea if you must."

Anthony nodded and picked up his beer. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

Thirty minutes later Derek finished, giving Anthony the floor. The older man conceded that Derek had sound and valid reasons for his request. He couldn't fault any of them, logically they all made sense. He looked down at the scribbled notes in front of him.

"Well, it might work. But that's a mighty big might," he reiterated. "You would have to draw everything up nice and legal to be sure all gray areas are covered."

Derek nodded, smiling broadly. This would definitely work. He was one hundred percent sure of it. "Good. Put the ad in the papers tonight. Pull whatever strings you have to see that it runs first thing in the morning. I want to see all the responses, every single one of them."

"How can you be sure you're going to get any replies?"

"Oh, I'll get responses. Money moves mountains. You can be sure of that."

Talli watched the four dogs lift their heads in unison at the sound of the front door closing. Their master was home. She turned on her side to glance at the neon clock on the night stand. Two-thirty in the morning. Derek Cameron kept the strangest hours of anyone she could imagine. She fought down the mental image that he had been out with a woman. It was none of her business who he saw or what he did, but a gnawing ache made her pray she was wrong.

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