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About the Baby
Tracy Wolff
Kara Steward and Lucas Montgomery have always been the best of friends. As doctors, they're too busy saving the world to commit to anything more. Still, Kara knows exactly who to go to when she needs a little support. But one night she turns to Lucas and…everything changes. And once they've crossed that line to more than friends, it's impossible to go back.Their situation is even more tangled when Kara's job calls her away for several weeks. How can they talk about the new "them" when she's half a world away? She can't put off this discussion too long, however. Not after she discovers there's a baby to consider….
After this, nothing is the same!
Kara Steward and Lucas Montgomery have always been the best of friends. As doctors, they’re too busy saving the world to commit to anything more. Still, Kara knows exactly who to go to when she needs a little support. But one night she turns to Lucas and…everything changes. And once they’ve crossed that line to more than friends, it’s impossible to go back.
Their situation is even more tangled when Kara’s job calls her away for several weeks. How can they talk about the new “them” when she’s half a world away? She can’t put off this discussion too long, however. Not after she discovers there’s a baby to consider….
Kara’s breath hitched in her throat
Sitting there, Lucas looked dark, sexy and a little bit rumpled. He looked gorgeous, really, and despite all of her best intentions, her heart kicked into high gear. Her stomach fluttered even as her mouth went desert dry. Trying to get some moisture back, she rubbed her lips together. Licked them. And felt Lucas stiffen against her even as a deep, rumbling growl started in his chest.
“Kara.” It was a warning, and a blatant one at that, and she felt it sizzle along every nerve ending she had. Drowning now in the scent and sight and sound of him, she reached up and rested her hand against his cut-glass jaw. Stroked her thumb over his dark stubble and lost herself in the dark pools of his eyes.
“Kara.” He whispered her name this time, his hand coming up to cup her own face. “What are you doing?”
Dear Reader,
Every once in a while, if she’s very lucky, an author gets the chance to write a series of books that really speaks to her. For me, these three Harlequin Superromance books about doctors who work in Africa—From the Beginning, February 2012, Healing Dr. Alexander, May 2012 and this one—is that series. About the Baby was the most difficult of the three to write, I have to say. Partly because my hero, Dr. Lucas Montgomery, is an all-around great guy (I usually specialize in writing bad boys) and partly because I have to say good-bye to six characters who I really like and admire.
When I was in college, I always thought I would graduate then join the Peace Corps or another such group that did humanitarian work in places that desperately need help. Though I knew my parents would not be overly excited to let me go off to a part of the world that was constantly war and disaster torn, I never doubted that one day I would do it.
Well, life has a way of taking paths you never intend. When I left college I went straight into grad school where I fell in love with a wonderful man (from Africa, by the way), got married and had a baby all before I finished my master’s degree. Needless to say, I’ve never made it to Africa for more than a three-week visit. And while I have since volunteered my time here in America for numerous women’s and children’s organizations, there’s a part of me that still feels like I should have gone to Africa, should have tried to help. It is this part of myself that I tapped into when I wrote About the Baby, and when I conceived of this trilogy.
Thanks so much for giving About the Baby a try. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love hearing from my readers either at my email tracy@tracywolff.com or at my blog, www.tracywolff.blogspot.com (http://www.tracywolff.blogspot.com). If you get the chance, please stop by and say hello!
Happy reading!
Tracy Wolff
About the Baby
Tracy Wolff
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tracy Wolff collects books, English degrees and lipsticks, and has been known to forget where—and sometimes who—she is when immersed in a great novel. At six, she wrote her first short story—something with a rainbow and a prince—and at seven, she ventured into the wonderful world of girls’ lit with her first Judy Blume novel. By ten, she’d read everything in the young-adult and classics sections of her local bookstore, so in desperation her mom started her on romance novels. And from the first page of the first book, Tracy knew she’d found her lifelong love. Tracy lives in Texas with her husband and three sons, where she pens romance novels and teaches writing at her local community college.
Books by Tracy Wolff
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1529—A CHRISTMAS WEDDING
1568—FROM FRIEND TO FATHER
1607—THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
1649—BEGINNING WITH THEIR BABY
1676—UNGUARDED
1703—DESERVING OF LUKE
1760—FROM THE BEGINNING
1781—HEALING DR. ALEXANDER
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
To my mom, the most amazing woman I know.
Acknowledgement
Thank you, Wanda, for your never-ending patience with me as I struggle to get things right, usually at the last possible minute. I really appreciate your support.
Contents
Chapter One (#u8e5bfcaf-d22e-550d-ba28-3898751e8d10)
Chapter Two (#u04219f8e-a1a9-5b5c-b496-fab5e86c2096)
Chapter Three (#uc171df42-9911-5085-80f0-efbe261d30d7)
Chapter Four (#u155ca5b8-0f8b-5e61-83b6-54958cfe6115)
Chapter Five (#u83a22c76-6d9e-54fa-8813-cba9e0803307)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
April
“CAN I BUYYOUADRINK?”
Dr. Lucas Montgomery turned with a frown, annoyed at having his few minutes of hard-won solitude disturbed. The annoyance turned to something else entirely, however, at his first glimpse of the leggy redhead with the killer curves and impish smile. She was holding out a glass of champagne, her green eyes twinkling in the dim courtyard lights of the hotel terrace.
“The champagne’s free,” he told her.
“And yet you’re not drinking any.” She gestured slightly with the glass. “Come on. Live a little.”
Raising an eyebrow at her teasing, he reached for the champagne flute and kept his gaze locked with hers as he downed the effervescent liquid in one swig.
“Shall I get you another?” she asked dryly as he set the glass on top of a stone ledge.
“Shouldn’t that be my line?”
“Perhaps, but I haven’t finished my drink yet.” She held up the nearly full glass for his inspection.
“I won’t hold that against you,” he answered with a smile. He couldn’t help it—he really liked looking at her. Clasping her free hand in his, he murmured, “Dance with me.”
Her lips twisted in contemplation and when she didn’t immediately answer, he slipped the glass of champagne from her hand and set it next to his empty one.
“Come on,” he urged. Wrapping his right arm around her waist, he pulled her against him and started to glide over the redbrick patio.
“You want to dance here?” She paused for a moment, refusing to budge as she considered.
“What’s wrong with here? Live a little,” he mimicked, certain the dare would get to her.
She laughed then, a husky, full-bodied sound that made him laugh along with her. “Nothing’s wrong with here. I just didn’t realize terrace dancing was one of your specialties.”
It wasn’t, but he had a feeling it was right up her alley. And when she stopped resisting and allowed him to propel her out of the shadows and into the small pool of light cast by the old-fashioned globe lantern, he knew he was right.
They were close enough to the ballroom to hear the music, and for long seconds neither of them talked as they moved together under the heavy branches of a centuries-old magnolia tree. With her heels on, she was only a couple inches shorter than his own height of six foot four.
He liked the way she fit against him. When the song ended, she tried to step away, but he held on. She indulged him for a moment, eyes closed and head resting against his shoulder. Then, with a sigh, she stepped away. He let her go, but when she tugged a little in an effort to free her hand, he refused to relinquish it. “How was Africa?” he asked softly.
“Same as always.” While the reply was flippant, the sadness that moved behind her eyes was anything but. “Beautiful, but nightmarish.”
“Did you get everything taken care of?”
“As much as we could. Cholera isn’t something to play around with. We managed to vaccinate nine refugee camps as well as educate them on prevention measures and the handling of blood and tissue samples. It’s not enough, but at least this outbreak is under control. But I’m sure it will pop up again soon and then we’ll be right back where we were two months ago.”
His stomach clenched a little at the thought of Kara going up against such a miserable illness¸ but he made himself ignore it. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d taken on a deadly disease and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. She was an epidemiologist for the Center for Disease Control. Traveling to hot spots around the world and figuring out where and how the outbreak happened was her job—and her calling.
Concern about his best friend’s safety might keep him up some nights, but he was the only one. An adventurer through and through, Kara rarely worried about herself. She relished the thrill of running a virus to ground, as well as helping the people who so much of the world preferred to forget.
He understood her drive, her need to make the world a better place. He’d done his stint in For the Children, one of the leading organizations that brought doctors into developing nations, and in doing so had seen just how desperately people needed help.
But, unlike Kara, he hadn’t been able to hack it long-term. He’d gotten out early, had chosen to start a low-income clinic in the poorest area of Atlanta instead. Not because he didn’t believe in helping those who couldn’t help themselves, but because he knew that staying in Africa, witnessing the soul-deep suffering, would eventually kill him—as it nearly had his clinic partners, Amanda Hart and Jack Alexander.
Together the three of them dealt with everything at their clinic, from gunshot wounds to diagnosing cancer. And while there never seemed to be enough time, enough money, enough anything, at least here he could see that he was making a difference. When he’d been in Ethiopia it had felt like everything he’d done had been barely a drop in a leaky bucket.
Though he knew Kara didn’t feel the same way about her time in Africa, he couldn’t help asking, “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. A little tired is all,” she admitted with a grimace. “I got in late last night and my body’s clock is all messed up.”
“So what are you doing here? You should be home sleeping.”
“Well, that was the plan. But earlier, I called the clinic to see if you could do lunch today but you had scheduled appointments right through your lunch hour, as usual. Your receptionist told me about this benefit event. And since I know how much you love these things, I figured it was my duty as your oldest and dearest friend to dust off my dancing shoes and suffer right along with you.”
“Have I mentioned lately that you are a terrific best friend?”
“A time or two.” She pretended to buff her nails on her dress. “But it’s a sentiment that bears repeating.”
“No doubt.” He draped an arm around her shoulders, gave her a quick squeeze. “And I very much appreciate your sacrifice.”
“And well you should. I’ve been in Somalia for the last seven weeks, running around in hiking boots and tennis shoes. Squeezing my feet into these heels—” she held up one slender foot encased in a pair of red-sequined stilettos “—has been absolute torture.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he said with a grin.
“Well, that’s obvious. But since you’ve got me, at least until the next crisis rears its ugly head, what do you say we blow this pop stand and go find something more interesting to do—after I sit down for five minutes.”
“I can’t leave. I’m one of the hosts,” he said as he cupped a hand around her elbow and escorted her to the closest stone bench.
She sat, gratefully, and kicked off her right shoe so she could rub her toes. “Which is why you’re hiding out on the patio? Because you’re so concerned about your hosting duties?”
“I’m taking a break. I wanted a breather before I had to start making the rounds to say good-night to everyone.”
“So take a longer break. I was just in the ballroom. It’s well after midnight and the party has already started to break up. Amanda, Jack and your mother have everything under control.”
“No doubt. But Amanda threatened me with many, many painful things if I stepped out of line tonight. Not to mention what my mother said she would do if I embarrassed her. Somehow I think ducking out right before I’m supposed to position myself near the door and thank everyone for the copious amounts of money they’ve spent here tonight definitely falls into both categories.”
“Okay, I can understand your fear of your mother’s wrath. She can be scary when she gets going. But don’t tell me you’re afraid of a pregnant woman?”
“Damn right I am. Amanda’s mean,” he said with affection, so Kara would know he was teasing.
