A/N: This is my first fanfic attempt :-) Please let me know if you love it or hate it (but gently, please!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Chapter 1

"Run that by me again?"

He looked up, his eyes betraying the slight annoyance at my inability to comprehend what the hell he was talking about.

"I want you to have a baby. With me. Together. You and me. A baby."

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him. "Edward, have you lost your mind?"

"No, I haven't lost my mind. I've actually thought this through quite extensively. You and I both turned thirty this year. I would love nothing more than to have an heir. I think a baby would be the perfect addition to our arrangement." Edward's sea-green eyes stared into mine for a moment longer before he stood up and started pacing the length of his study.

I sat in the brown leather chair that faced his mahogany desk, which was spotless as always. I was irritated with the direction this conversation had taken and my passive aggressive side longed to reach out and tip over his cup of #2 pencils or sneeze all over the shiny wooden desktop with my mouth uncovered. This idea he was proposing was completely asinine and outrageous for a man who was borderline OCD in his meticulous planning of every facet of his life.

I watched my husband as he paced. Our marriage of nearly three years was one of convenience – on his part anyway. As the founder and CEO of Cullen Technologies, he needed a trophy wife on his arm at business functions, during his many interactions with the press, and in his bed every night. As a poor girl from Forks, I needed stability, money, and someone with a plan. What our arrangement did not include was a love clause and I, much to my own dismay and against my better judgment, had grown to love this odd man. He was a man of few words, and many of those words he did manage to utter were emotionless and seemingly cold, but I knew he had a softer side – one he hid from the outside world. It showed up in the small thoughtful gifts I often found on my pillow at the end of the day. In the fact that he always seemed to anticipate my every want and need. In the way he always kissed my forehead before drifting off to sleep. In the way he loved his family members completely and without reserve. I knew he was a good man.

And I knew that he did not return my love – I was a convenience to him. I fulfilled the requirements carefully lined out in our pre-nup. I took care of his physical needs in the bedroom. And I was a complete and total idiot for doing these things knowing he could never feel for me what I feel for him.

Four years ago, while working at a small coffee shop in Seattle, Edward Cullen has waltzed into my life and irrevocably changed it, starting with his grande soy, sugar-free vanilla latte, extra hot with only a dollop of whipped cream. As he placed his pretentious order, his stare unnerved me and I felt my face beginning to heat under his gaze. When I handed him his drink, he muttered a soft "Thank You" and then slipped quietly out the door. He returned every weekday for over a month – never speaking to me, but always staring at me with those beautiful eyes of his.

On the fifth Tuesday of this routine, he struck up a conversation. Nothing major; certainly no special moment shared between two star-crossed lovers. He simply asked how my day was going. I mumbled an awkward "Fine" and returned to steaming the soy milk for his hoity-toity latte. The next day, he asked my name. Each day that followed he seemed to add a new line of questioning and eventually we became what I would call "casual acquaintances." I neither liked nor disliked him. Our relationship or whatever it could be called wasn't something I thought about regularly, it just was. I found out he had just turned 26 and was some kind of computer genius who was currently a wonder in the technology world with his own line of computer security software solutions. I was a clumsy, twenty-something with no career path, no college degree or financial means to ever get one, and I always felt uncomfortable in his presence, like I should keep my eyes down and call him "Sir" whenever he addressed me directly.

And then, six months into this bizarre daily interaction, the game changed. Edward walked through the door at his usual early afternoon time and waltzed right up to me with determination and fire in his eyes as I stood behind the counter.

"Bella, I would like to speak with you about something. Can we meet for dinner tonight?" he said, his green eyes blazing. He seemed so composed, but his hand running nervously through his wild bronze hair betrayed him.

"Excuse me? What? Dinner?" I stammered like a mental patient. He was a customer. His world and mine did not intermingle. He wore suits and paid for his four dollar coffee with a black Amex. I sported jeans, a messy brown ponytail, and couldn't even balance my checkbook correctly. Why on earth would this man want to have dinner with me? Did he expect sex? Was I some project or social experiment for him?

"I have a proposal for you…a business arrangement, so to speak. Can we meet somewhere and discuss it in private? I realize this is somewhat unexpected, but all I ask is to take you out to dinner and to have your undivided attention while I explain."

I stared at him with my brow furrowed, chewing crazily at my bottom lip. "OK." At least I would get a free meal out of the deal.

My agreement seemed to catch him off guard, as if he had prepared a full on debate presentation and wasn't sure what to do now that it wasn't necessary.

"Alright. What time do you get off of work? I can pick you up here if you'd like or you can meet me at the restaurant if that would make you feel more comfortable." He smiled at me. A gentle smile that showed none of his ridiculously white teeth.

A short exchange ended with our agreeing to meet at a local diner, which was typically quiet in the evenings and a good spot to have a serious discussion. When I walked through the door, I saw him fidgeting at a booth in the back corner and quickly joined him, curious as to what this conversation would entail. After a short and formal greeting, he began the speech that would change my life forever.

"Bella, I feel like a bit of a creep presenting this proposal to you, but please know that I have thought this through completely and I am not here on a whim or rash decision. I think that you and I could help each other. You are beautiful, smart, kind, and I find myself very drawn to you. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I am in a predicament and I have something completely random and crazy to ask of you."

"Which is?" I said, still reeling from the fact that he had called me beautiful.

"Marry me."

I gasped. Did he just ask me to marry him? Why? What the hell is going on?

He immediately looked nervous – probably from the look of pure shock no doubt plastered on my face.

"Hear me out. I need to find a companion for both professional and personal reasons. I am in a position where being single is just no longer acceptable, but I haven't the time or frankly the desire to seek out a long-term relationship. I always fear that women are simply out to get their hands on my money. I trust you. I am in awe of you every time we speak. I also know that you are struggling financially. I could support you and also pay for your college tuition if you'd like to pursue an education. In return, I would ask for your companionship, your attendance at some events and such, and in public to act as though we love each other."

I took a deep breath. I had to admit, given my current economic situation, it sounded appealing, but I needed some time to think about it. We left the restaurant with the agreement to discuss the proposal further the following morning.

Through various meetings and discussions, we ultimately came to an agreement. We would marry within four months, we would pretend to be a real couple outside of the home, he would support me and allow me use of his checking account whenever I wanted, and we would reevaluate the terms of the agreement annually to make sure we were both still happy with the situation. I was happy to not have to worry about money and to finally pursue the degree I so desperately wanted. But I'll be honest…I felt like a whore. I genuinely liked Edward – he seemed like a good person. But I was scared to death of getting myself into something I couldn't handle. Or worse – ending up with a broken heart.

Edward and I spent the next four months nearly inseparable. We learned more about each other, I met his family, he met mine, and I began to feel much more comfortable about what I had agreed to. Our wedding was truly beautiful and I cried real tears when I said my vows. Edward looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman on the planet and I couldn't help but wonder if it was real or if he was just playing his part. Our honeymoon in the south of France was spent in a two bedroom cottage, each of us retiring to our separate quarters at the end of each day. Time passed and I was really very happy. I enjoyed spending time with Edward. He was smart and kind, a true gentleman. He bought me presents. He kissed my cheek every morning. He enjoyed my cooking. We were like any other married couple. Except for that damned pre-nup that spelled out what we could never be.

About a year into the marriage, we attended a charity ball for the local Children's Hospital. After indulging in way too many glasses of champagne, the limo dropped us off at his mansion, both drunk and giddy. He gazed at me with a look of lust I had never seen before in his eyes. I took in a shaky breath from the weight of the moment. When our lips met, it was like a fire was lit that neither of us had any desire to extinguish. We made love that night, all frantic and intense and sweaty and just pure bliss. I slept in his arms for the first time.

The awkwardness that I expected when daylight hit never seemed to materialize. We went about our lives as if nothing had changed. But nearly every night since that day found us in each others arms, taking pleasure from one another and giving back as equally as we received. I moved into the master suite. In that room, he gazed at me as if I were his entire world, as if I held the meaning to life. He played my body like an instrument. He knew every sensitive spot of my skin, just as well as I knew his. When morning came, we went our separate ways – no words of love were whispered, no touches or more than chaste kisses were shared.

As time went on, I began to feel uneasy. It took time, but I eventually worked out what my head was trying to tell me – I was his whore. I had sex with him in exchange for being a "kept" woman. And somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. I loved everything about him. I just wished he could feel the same.

When Edward asked me to meet him in his study, I certainly never imagined he would ask for a child. My brain went into overdrive and once the shock dissipated, anger soon set in its place.

"Edward, I cannot and will not have a baby with you. I refuse to bring a child into this world simply to enhance an "arrangement". I can't believe you would even ask. I may exist here purely to keep your public happy and to keep your bed warm, but I do have some shred of dignity left. I am not your breeder." I spat the words at him vehemently. I had loved this man for years. I had given him my heart, soul, and body and had gotten nothing in return but a paycheck. He was emotionally unavailable and clearly lacked any tact whatsoever. I choked back a sob. This was it. I couldn't be this woman anymore. I needed to get out before the damage to my poor heart was too much to ever recover from.

I looked up at him and wiped desperately at the tears that had pooled in my eyes. He was clearly caught off guard by my outburst. His beautiful face looked completely heartbreaking – his eyes held shock and regret.

"Bella, I – "

"No. I don't want to hear it." I glanced down at my hands which were shaking in my lap. When I looked up at him again, I realized this was the moment. I needed to take some action. "Edward, I can't do this anymore. I'm not some plaything. I..I…need to go. I need some time to think."

And with that I fled the room, not knowing where my steps would lead.