Baby For The Bear

Of all the things that Kenneth Brecker could have said to her, this was the thing Samantha had expected the least. Where was his insult? Where was his indignation? Where was his outrage? Why was he not asking her how she dared to come into his office like some spoiled, stuck-up little upstart and speak to him that way? Why was he not telling her to mind her place? He could have at least given her a frown, a tsk-tsk, a little superior mockery and condescending and patronizing for the middle-class girl who had no idea what she was talking about. But she was getting none of that. Instead, he actually presumed to tell her that he “understood” and sound as if he meant it. What the hell kind of rich, overprivileged, fat-cat werebear was Kenneth Brecker, anyway?

Before Samantha could figure out what to say, Ken continued. “I should tell you something about myself, Ms. Vance. My family… I come from a family of old bears who are used to doing things in old ways. We started out as a family business. You’re right, we do have shareholders, and the biggest ones sit on our Board of Directors. But we keep controlling interest in the company. The company does what my family wants it to do, and I act for the family. And what my family wants from me is to make sure that the Brecker fortune has new blood to pass on to. That’s what they expect from me, an heir.

“Now I could refuse to bring another cub into the world just because my family tells me to. That would mean stepping down as CEO and leaving the family business, and letting one of my younger brothers or my younger sister take over. I could do that. I’d still be a very rich man when I left. But I guess in my own way I’m as stubborn and proud as my family. I want what I was born into—all of it. I want not only what I’ve worked for, but my share of the legacy that I belong to. And I decided I didn’t want to go to the length of taking a mate to do it. All I’m looking for is to give my family what they want, pure and simple, and there’s no rule that says I have to do it the conventional, traditional way. And that’s why we’re talking now.”

Hearing this put an entirely new spin on the situation for Samantha. This Kenneth Brecker seemed to have unexpected layers to him. He appeared to be a more complicated man—or creature—than she thought he was.

Simply, calmly, Samantha replied, “I see.”

“Your world and my world are two very different places,” said Ken. “Your problems and my problems are two very different kinds of things. But no one gets through life without having demands put on them. The demands put on me aren’t the same kinds of demands put on you; I get that. But everyone expects something of someone else. And when I become a father, that’ll be a whole other set of demands. I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to something expecting things of me that will be very different from anything that anyone has wanted before. That’s what a child—or a cub—is. It’s a whole other world of needs. And I believe it’s something where you can get back more than what you put in. With business it’s investment and profit. That’s the world I’ve always lived in: profit and loss, or profits and dividends. Fatherhood—that’ll be a different kind of investment with a different kind of return. And I’m looking forward to it.”

Ken studied Samantha for her reaction to that. She actually began to shift a bit in her seat now, to make a curious gesture with her lips. If he had to name her expression, he would have called it confusion, or at least perplexity.

“Is there something else you’d like to ask?” he said.

Moving her eyes back to him, Samantha replied, “I don’t know how to ask this. I don’t even know if I should. It’s not really my business.”

“We’re still being honest,” said Ken. “And I think, with the honesty you’ve given me, and how brave you were to give it, you deserve to ask something a little personal. Please, it’s okay to ask. What is it?”

She shrugged a bit at first, finding no other way to ask than directly. “It’s just…a man—or a person—like you… Why don’t you want a wife? Or a mate? Why do you want to raise a cub by yourself?”

“That’s fair,” said Ken. “And you’re not the first one to ask. As a matter of fact they’ve all asked me that. And it’s all right. I’ll tell you, Ms. Vance. The reason I don’t want to marry the one who’ll be the mother of my cub is, frankly, that I’ve always lived a certain way and enjoyed it. Being a father will change everything for me. I’ll have to restructure my whole life to be a father, to have a cub. To have a cub and a mate, I’d have to restructure even more. Like I said, I’m as stubborn as the bears that I come from. I’m willing to change if I have to. But I guess I’m not willing to change quite that much.”

He had put it very tactfully, but Samantha took his meaning from what he was not saying. What he was telling her but not expressly saying it was that he was an incredibly hot, fantastically sexy Ursine with a face and a body for which a girl should want to fall to her knees in worship and strip off her clothes to offer herself up, and he was accustomed to fu*king whom he wanted, when he wanted, as much as he wanted, and he was not prepared to give that up. Not even for fatherhood.

Well, being as rich as he was, Kenneth Brecker could live that way if he chose. That was what money actually bought: not happiness, but choices and options. Money bought the ability to make yourself happy. And Kenneth Brecker was accustomed to making himself happy with anything female that he saw fit, any time.