Marriage by Contract

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“Of course he’ll marry me,” she whispered in Christopher’s ear. “He’s already committed to as much.”

But he doesn’t know, a voice whispered inside her head. You have to tell him.

No!

Covering Christopher’s back with the flat of her hand, she lifted her face and closed her eyes. Please. I love Christopher. Let me have him. I’ll do anything. Please.

Please.

The cry of babies was her only answer.

She continued to walk with Christopher, occasionally laying a hand on another infant who seemed to need nothing more than a human touch. Christopher didn’t seem to mind sharing her. It was as if he knew she loved him more than anybody else.

It felt right that he was secure in her love. It was one of the reasons she’d come here every day since the night he was born. There had been times when she’d been sure that her will alone had kept him alive. Oh, she loved him so. In her heart he was hers already. Was it so wrong to want him to be hers in the eyes of the law?

She deserved to be his mother.

Didn’t she?

Beth closed her eyes for a minute, because she knew better than anybody that life wasn’t always fair. Happiness had nothing to do with justice, or merit, or divine rights. Everything came down to doing one’s best. And the best thing she could do, the only thing she could do, was tell Tony the truth.

* * *

Beth had been pacing back and forth in Tony’s small office for five minutes, rehearsing what she was going to say word-for-word. The instant she heard the door open, she stopped, her eyes trained on his framed medical license on the wall.

“Connie said you wanted to see me?”

With her heart in her throat, she turned around. Tony closed the door behind him, slowly running his hand down the length of his silk tie, waiting for her to tell him why she’d come.

Her eyes had been burning from lack of sleep all day, her conscience burning with the need to tell the truth. Suddenly, she didn’t know where to begin. Clasping her hands behind her back, she raised her chin and quietly said, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

He took a step closer and held up one hand. “If you’re about to tell me that you used to be a man, you can stop right there, because I’d never believe you. My instincts couldn’t be that far off.”

His attempt at humor sent a small smile to her lips and a tiny ray of hope to her heart. He really was a good man. Perhaps what she had to say to him wouldn’t alter his decision to marry her.

“You’re right about that,” she said quietly. “But there are other things you don’t know about me.”

He walked farther into the room, casually settling his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”

She thought she detected a flicker of longing in his dark eyes. It added to the tiny ray of hope that had started to glow inside her. “Do you remember when you asked me what I’d wish for if I could have anything in the world?”

He nodded. “You told me you want Christopher.”

“Yes. But five years ago, one year ago, even six months ago, I would have said I wanted to have a child of my own.”

She paused, studying him. His expression changed, becoming serious. Taking a deep breath for courage, she surged on. “Acceptance came slowly, Tony. One day at a time over the past seven years, to be exact.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything very well, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I can’t have children.”

Tony took a step back, his head coming up with the shock of discovery. Beth released the breath she’d been holding, her last ray of hope extinguished by the surprise, and then the realization, that crossed his face. As one moment stretched to ten, she lowered her gaze to the grip she had on the back of his leather office chair. She’d recognized the expression deep in Tony’s eyes. Her ex-husband, Barry, had worn the same look more than a year ago when the doctor had given them the results of all the tests, all the surgeries and attempts that had failed.

“Are you sure?”

Pulling her gaze from her white knuckles, she said, “I’m sure. I have a severe case of endometriosis. Believe me, I’ve tried everything, every way there is.”

A knock sounded on the door, breaking the silence that stretched tight between them. “What is it?” Tony said, his voice a low growl.

The receptionist poked her head into the office. Obviously aware of the tension in the room, her gaze swung from Tony to Beth and back again. “I’m sorry to bother you, Dr. Petrocelli, but there’s an urgent message for Bethany.” She turned her attention to Beth before continuing. “You’re to go to the employee lounge immediately.”

Slowly coming to her senses, Beth nodded, although the message didn’t make sense. Her nursing shift was over. Why would she be needed in the lounge? “Thanks, Connie,” she said. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

Casting one last glance at the clear-cut lines of Tony’s profile, she said, “Let’s talk later!” Taking careful note of his slight nod, she followed the other woman from the room.

* * *

If Beth Kent had been thinking clearly, she would have known something was wrong. The corridor was unusually quiet, the door leading to the employee lounge closed tight, the blinds drawn. Feeling strangely disoriented, she turned the knob.

The sudden roar was deafening, the burst of lights blinding. Nearly everyone she worked with on a daily basis was huddled together in the small room, laughing expectantly.

“Surprise!”

“We gotcha!”

“You didn’t think we’d let you get married without throwing you a surprise shower, did you?” Kitty Garcia, the nurse who worked in the nursery, exclaimed in a thick Spanish accent and friendly brown eyes.

“She’s surprised, all right,” someone else declared. “Just look at her.”

Beth did her best to smile. They were right. Her surprise was completely genuine. If they knew the half of it, the joke would be on them.

Karen Sloane, one of the most loved resident doctors at Vanderbilt Memorial, looped her arm through Beth’s and said, “We didn’t know whether to throw you a baby shower or a wedding shower. Then we remembered who you were going to marry, and we knew exactly what kind of shower we had to have for you.”

Beth didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even sure the wedding was still on now that Tony knew about her infertility. She bit her lip, shuddering inwardly at the thought.

“Come on, Beth,” Karen insisted with an understanding smile. “These people aren’t going to give up until you’ve opened every last gift.”

Beth had known Karen Sloane for years. They were alike in many ways, so alike, in fact, that they both tended to keep their problems to themselves. When Karen’s eight-year-old daughter had been trapped in a cave during the mud slide, the two women had found strength in their similarities. A friendship had formed in the days following the massive storm that rocked Grand Springs to its core, and although Victoria had been found, unharmed, there were still shadows in Karen’s gray eyes.

Kitty Garcia grasped both women’s hands and drew them into the center of the room. Winking mischievously at Beth, she said, “I can’t wait to see your face when you open the gift from me. You will be happy. Sí?”

Beth didn’t fully understand the reason for all the elbow jabbing and jovial laughter, but she said a silent prayer of thanks for the poise she’d learned as a child. Accepting the plate of food being pushed into one hand and the gift being pressed into the other, she pasted a smile on her face and pretended that everything was right with the world.

* * *

Tony’s chair creaked as he leaned back in it and tried to relax, but it was nothing compared to the sound it made when he jumped to his feet a second later. At this rate, he was going to wear the blasted thing out, which was exactly what he would do to the new carpet if he didn’t stop pacing.

His last patient of the day had canceled. It was a good thing. His concentration had been nil ever since Beth had told him that she couldn’t have children.

Good God. Beth couldn’t have children.

He still couldn’t believe it. But at least a few things about Bethany Kent were beginning to make sense. He remembered thinking it was strange when she’d brought up the subject of marriage. Strange, hell. It had left him speechless.

Face it, Petrocelli. The woman has been leaving you speechless since the night of the blackout.

That was true enough, but those other bouts of raw surprise had been sexual in nature. In comparison, her disclosure concerning her inability to have children had felt like a kick in the chest.

Tony strode to the window, but for once in his life, the view of the mountains rising in the west failed to reach him. A dozen images of Beth played through his mind. He could practically see the lone tear that had trailed down her cheek that night when Christopher had been born. He could practically hear the depth of emotion in her voice each time she mentioned the baby’s name. She loved that child. There was no doubt about it. She deserved to have him, too. There was no doubt about that, either. But she couldn’t have children. And if he married her, he couldn’t, either.

He paced to the other side of the room. Running a hand through his hair, he turned and repeated the process.

Beth didn’t have to tell him about her infertility. That fact had left him in awe of her strength of character. But dammit, it also filled him with doubts and questions. All jokes about his Don Juan image aside, he took his commitment to his family very seriously. He’d always assumed he’d meet the right woman and settle down to raise a family like each and every one of his sisters had done. It was the Petrocelli way. How could he even consider marrying a woman who couldn’t give him children, or his parents grandchildren?

He didn’t know why he left his office, and he sure as hell didn’t know what he hoped to gain from standing outside the nursery, watching Christopher sleep. The baby’s hand jerked, then slowly relaxed, his little mouth suckling an invisible bottle. Tony knew it was a reflex action. But then, so was the clenching in his own gut.

Laughter and raised voices carried to his ears from someplace down the hall. Of their own volition, his feet followed the sound. He came to a stop a few feet from the employee lounge. Holding very still, he stood in the doorway, silently watching. Balloons bobbed from a centerpiece on one of the tables, voices rose and laughter trailed from one side of the room to the other. Beth stood in the midst of it all, looking regal and poised. He wondered if he was the only one who saw the stiffness in her shoulders or the forced brightness in her smile.

“Open mine next,” Kitty Garcia insisted, thrusting a brightly colored package into Beth’s hands.

There was a lot of speculation as Beth slid her finger beneath a piece of tape and lifted the paper away. “Hold it up!” someone yelled. “This I’ve gotta see.”

Using both hands, Beth pulled a see-through scrap of lace and red satin from the box. A blush tinged her cheeks, but she played along, holding the skimpy teddy to her body, smoothing her hand down its length. She chose that moment to look his way, her gaze meeting his from the other side of the room. Karen Sloane nudged her, and a heartbeat later, the other woman waved. Beth’s lips lifted in a semblance of a smile, and Tony felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him all over again. He returned Karen’s wave and did his best to return Beth’s smile, but it wasn’t easy. Hell, breathing wasn’t easy.

“Come on in, Tony,” somebody yelled.

Others took up the cry, but Tony only stood there, holding Beth’s gaze. She lowered her hands, the teddy dangling from two fingers. Something intense flared through him. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he’d never felt anything quite like it in his life. This wasn’t just a simple case of him wanting a woman. There was nothing simple about it.

“Come on, Doctor! Have a piece of cake.”

Tony hesitated, casting a cursory glance at the people in the room. He knew that if he took that next step, there would be no turning back. Glancing back at Beth, a jolt went through him, a thought close on its heels. Tony Petrocelli had been raised to trust two things: his Grandma Rosa’s homemade pasta sauce, and his gut instinct. And his gut instinct told him he wanted Bethany Kent.

That want was complicated, not to mention confusing. But he’d been confused before, and truth be told, he liked complications, at least the kind that left him feeling strong and masculine and more alive than he’d felt in a long, long time.

With his eyes trained on Beth, he walked into the room.

Chapter Four

“Goodbye, Beth, see you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, bye, Bethany. Bye, Dr. Petrocelli!”

“Goodbye! Thanks for everything,” Beth called from the doorway, waving as the last two guests left the party. Suddenly, the employee lounge seemed awfully quiet.

“Would you close the door?” Tony asked from a few feet behind her.

Although she would have preferred to postpone their conversation, she closed the door and slowly turned around. She hadn’t known what to make of the sight of him standing in the doorway half an hour ago, and she certainly didn’t know what to make of the sight of him standing an arm’s length away right now, but fear and hope were fighting over the butterflies in her stomach. And fear was winning.

Tony was wearing his ordinary doctor attire—dress slacks, shirt and tie. There was, however, nothing ordinary about the barely there smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Rather than take the risk of reading too much into his expression, she waited for him to begin.

Eyeing the lingerie and other gifts lying on a nearby table, he finally said, “Now that I know what goes on at bridal showers, I understand why my sisters like them so much. Add a stripper and a keg of beer, and they’re not much different from bachelor parties, are they?”

From now on, Beth told herself, she was going to expect him to say the last thing she expected. Shaking her head slightly, she said, “Not all bridal showers are like this one. I had several prior to my first marriage, and believe me, they were all extremely prim and proper.”

“No wonder the marriage failed.”

He’d done it again. Surprised every coherent thought right out of her head. Luckily, her answer was automatic. “I think you and I both know why my marriage failed, Tony.”

She had his undivided attention now. Lowering her voice slightly, she said, “I ran into Barry and his new wife last week. She was very beautiful, and very pregnant.”

Tony didn’t say anything, and she surged ahead. “Barry couldn’t deal with my endometriosis. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose slightly at the medical term. As a doctor, he knew it well. In mild to moderate cases, it made menstruation painful and conception difficult. In severe cases it made one excruciating and the other impossible. “What has your doctor done about your condition?” he asked levelly.

“For now, I’m on medication. Eventually, I’ll need a hysterectomy. It’s pretty much textbook, isn’t it?”

Outwardly, Tony didn’t move, but inside, his thoughts were surging in every direction. He knew firsthand how devastating a diagnosis of endometriosis can be. He’d broken the news to a number of his patients over the years. Suddenly, he wished he could have been there for her, to hold her hand, or offer her his understanding, because he had a feeling her ex-husband hadn’t been concerned about her needs.

Beth stared up at Tony. He’d been quiet for a long time, obviously absorbing the information. He brushed a strand of hair off her face, his fingertips moving to her cheekbone as if he’d been wanting to touch her all day. She stared up at him, afraid of what he might do. Afraid of what he might not do.

Calling on her last vestige of courage, she said, “I’m thirty-five years old. Adopting Christopher could very well be my only chance at motherhood. I don’t blame you for having doubts, but this arrangement doesn’t have to be permanent. I’ll sign a prenuptial agreement, and I’ll give you a divorce anytime you want. Of course, I won’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind completely.”

Tony let his fingers glide through the wisps of hair in front of Beth’s ear, trail down the smooth column of her neck and brush the delicate ridge of her collarbone. He could hear her breath catch in her throat, could see the slight quiver in her proud chin. He couldn’t name all the emotions crashing through him, but he knew damn well a woman like her shouldn’t have to beg.