Free Change of Heart by Jude Deveraux

natural anyway.”
    This time he did smile. Not an all-out teeth-showing smile, but a smile nonetheless. “If wives were not so much trouble, I would have done so years ago.”
    She couldn’t suppress a bit of a laugh. “I think I’m beginning to understand. You want me because I’ll add chaos to your life.”
    “And children.”
    “Children?” she asked, blinking.
    “Yes. My family is prolific. Twins, actually. I find I want children.” He looked away. “Since I was quite young, I have been very aware of my responsibilities. As the oldest of many siblings, I knew I would be the one to run the family business.”
    “The crown prince, so to speak.”
    “Yes, exactly. Fulfilling my obligations has always been uppermost in my mind. But about two years ago I met a boy.”
    When he said nothing more, Miranda encouraged him. “A boy?”
    “Yes, he was at my brother’s offices, skulking around from desk to desk, pretending to play but actually listening and looking at everything. I spoke to him, and it was like looking into my own eyes.”
    “And he made you want to have children of your own, did he? Sort of a wish to clone yourself, is that right?”
    “More or less. But the boy changed me. He made me see things in my own life. We have corresponded since that time. We have become . . .” He smiled. “We have become friends.”
    She was glad that he had at least one friend in the world, but he couldn’t marry a woman and hope she would give him a son just like the boy he’d met. “Mr. Taggert, there is no way I could produce the kind of son you want. My son is a sweet, loving child. He is the personification of kindness and generosity. He would die if he knew I told anyone this, but I still tuck him in every night and read aloud to him before he goes to sleep.” She wasn’t going to mention that she usually read advanced physics textbooks, because that would have ruined the fairy-tale aspect of the story.
    Turning his head to one side, Frank said, “I would like my children to be a bit softer than I am.”
    It was beginning to dawn on Miranda that this man was serious. He was coldly, and with great detachment, asking her to marry him. And produce children. For a moment, looking at him, she couldn’t quite picture him in the throes of passion. Would he perhaps delegate the task to his vice president in charge of production? Charles, my wife needs servicing.
    “You are amused,” he said.
    “It was just something I was thinking about.” She looked at him with compassion. “Mr. Taggert, I understand your dilemma and I would like to help. If it were only me, I might consider marrying you, but others would be involved. My son would be exposed to you, and if you and I did have—well, if we did have children, I’d want them to have a real father. I can’t imagine you reading fairy stories to a two-year-old.”
    For a moment he didn’t move; he just sat on the edge of the bed. “Then you are saying no to me?”
    “Yes. I mean no. I mean, yes, I’m saying no. I can’t marry you.”
    For a few seconds he stared at her, then he stood up and silently went to his own bed.
    As Miranda sat there in the dark silence, she wondered if she’d dreamed the whole thing. She’d just turned down marriage to a very wealthy man. Was she terminally stupid? Had she lost all sense? Eli could have the best the world had to offer. And she could—
    She sighed. She would be married to a man who wanted her so she could add chaos to his life. How amusing. Plump little Miranda walking about in circles in her attempt to leave the cabin. Daffy Miranda being stupid enough to fall for an elaborate joke played on a cold, heartless billionaire.
    It was a long while before she fell asleep.

     
    The next morning Miranda was silently making strawberry pancakes while Frank sat before the fire staring at the pages of a book on tax reform. He hadn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes, so she knew he was thinking rather than