The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / The Texas Billionaire's Baby: The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / Baby By Surprise

“The article never named the source of the allegations.”

“Nor confirmed them. Then they were proved unfounded and a retraction was made. But at the same time that we were working on that issue, we discovered an out-of-the-ordinary number of multiple births following in vitro over the past few years.”

“Which means what?”

“Numbers that big could pad the institute’s statistics, making the program seem more successful than it is. We have standards about how many embryos to implant. It looks like the standards might have been ignored. Because of the unusual success rate, the institute was able to obtain a lot more private donations and grant money than usual. Now the numbers are being challenged, and rightfully so.”

What he wasn’t telling her was that every step he’d taken to resolve the problems had been met with resistance by Derek Armstrong, Paul and Lisa’s brother and the institute’s CFO. Chance was the only person Ted had confided in about that—so far. He couldn’t make accusations without proof, but Ted suspected Derek was involved somehow, whether as part of a cover-up or something even worse.

“So, first of all,” Ted continued, “we need to prove or disprove the statistics. Then we need to create a best-practices manual of lab protocols, so if we’re ever questioned again, the answers will be readily available and backed up. I can use all the help I can get. The institute’s reputation is on the line, but so is my ability to continue my research.”

She rubbed her hands together, as if anxious to get started right away. “I’ll check the appointment schedule for the rest of the week and see what I can do to rearrange things and free myself up. Would you prefer morning or afternoon?”

“First thing in the morning.”

She climbed off the chair and stuck out her hand. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stayed seated, keeping himself closer to eye level. Her hand felt small in his, and warm, but also firm and direct. One of the traits he valued most in people was competency. She hadn’t been promoted to head nurse without proving her competency. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Sara Beth.”

“Thank you. I feel the same.”

He believed it. Her expression showed anticipation, as if she really couldn’t wait to get started. He’d tried to get across to her how tedious the work would be, especially if she had to work with the old files in the vault, poring over the folders. Well, she’d find out soon enough.

“Have a nice evening,” he said.

“You, too.” She headed toward the door, then turned around, walking backward. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Valentine’s—Damn. “Oh, uh, same to you,” he said, but the door had already closed behind her.

Damn. Once again he’d screwed up. He glanced at his watch. He’d intended to leave more than an hour ago to buy a gift. Aside from the traditional, uncreative grocery-store offerings, what could he buy? When he’d lived in San Francisco he’d gotten away with having something sent, but Boston was home. He didn’t have that excuse anymore. He needed to take a personal gift this time, something thoughtful.

From the lab window he spotted Lisa outside standing next to Sara Beth, hugging her helmet and laughing, looking much more carefree than the Sara Beth who’d just left his lab.

He went still. Thoughts swirled. A plan formed. She might be of some help.…

Ted locked his computer, tossed his lab coat toward a hook, then raced out of the building as Lisa drove off. He encountered Sara Beth as she was buckling her helmet. Her face registered surprise—and a little wariness—as he descended on her.

“I know we barely know each other,” he said. “But hear me out, please.”

“Okay.” The word came out slowly, curiously.

“This is the first time I’ve been home for Valentine’s Day since I graduated from high school.”

“Boston is home?”

He just nodded. “I’m supposed to be at my parents’ house in forty-five minutes for dinner. I need to take a gift.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find roses at almost any market.”

“And my mother would say ‘how lovely’ and that would be that. I want to do better than that. I want you to be my parents’ gift.”

Her big brown eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

He was pretty sure if she hadn’t been straddling her bike, she would’ve taken a few steps back, deciding he was a mad scientist.

“If they think I’m dating someone, it’ll make them happier than anything I could buy.” He stopped short of begging, but appealed to the female tendency to nurture. “I know I’m asking an enormous favor. I know there’s no reason for you to say yes. You may—you probably do have a date already.”

Of course she would have plans, an attractive woman like her. He felt ridiculous now for asking.

“There’s not enough time,” she said finally, gesturing to her bike. “I would have to ride home and get myself ready.”

“We’re not formal. I’m wearing what I have on, just adding a sport coat.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

He nodded toward his car. “I’ve got a bike rack.”

Fifteen minutes later he pulled up in front of her beautiful old Victorian house, said he’d find a place to park, then come back with her bike, giving her no more time to answer than he had in the parking lot, not allowing her any opportunity to say no.

He understood now the expression about someone having a deer-in-the-headlights look. She mumbled something about how to get to her second-floor apartment, then headed toward the house.

He got lucky, coming across a car leaving just a block away. He hauled her bike to her place, where the front door was ajar. He climbed the stairs inside to her unit, where her door hung open.

“Where do you want this?” he asked, rolling her bike inside.

She pointed to an empty spot in the living room. “I’ll hurry.”

She rushed into a room down the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

Ted glanced around her living room. The house was probably built around the turn of the twentieth century, but had been remodeled recently, although still using original-looking hardwood floors, and an up-to-date kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. And yet the combined living room/dining area/kitchen space was also feminine. Flowers and pottery and bright colors and… comfort. Her furniture was built for sinking into, and looked inviting.

One of these days he would get around to buying his own sofa.

She had a nice view of the street. Most of the houses were from the same era, some better taken care of than others. She lived only blocks from the Red Line. She could take the subway or a bus to work, the bus being more practical—

What if he factored in twice as much of the primary enzyme …?

Ted grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her kitchen counter, sat down and started making notes, getting lost in a possibility he hadn’t considered before. Later—and he had no idea how much later—he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He lifted his head so sharply he knocked into her. She yelped, fell back, grabbed her chin. He caught her by the arm to keep her from falling, the back of his hand accidentally pressing into her breast, her firm breast, surprisingly full for such a petite woman.

He let go. She steadied herself, repeatedly rubbing her chin, her cheeks flushing a little, too.

“I apologize, Sara Beth.” He gestured toward the three pieces of paper he’d been using to capture his thoughts. “I didn’t hear you. Are you all right? May I take a look?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I am a doctor, you know.”

“And I know nothing about medicine?”

He smiled at the teasing tone in her voice, ran his thumb over her chin. “Move your jaw.” Her lemon-scented perfume made his nose twitch and drew him closer. “Everything feel normal?”

“I’m fine. Really.” She stepped back, and he finally got a full picture of her. Basic black dress, with long sleeves, the neckline not too low or too high, a gold locket, her hair down and curled, high heels that gave her a few inches extra height, which was probably why he’d banged directly into her chin.

“You look nice,” he said, an understatement.

“Thank you.” She frowned slightly. “Are you sure we can pull this off? It’s kind of hard to pretend we’ve been dating when we really don’t know anything about each other.”

“We can exchange bios during the drive. If we say we’ve only recently started dating, they won’t expect us to know everything about each other.”

“Well, that much is the truth, anyway.” She grabbed her evening bag and keys. “It should be an adventure.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “And adventure is my middle name.”

He couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking, then her eyes twinkled mischievously, and he found that appealing. He tended to date serious women—

Whoa. Wait. This wasn’t a date date. This was a please-rescue-me date. No kiss good-night at the door. No how-long-should-I-wait-to-call-her? dilemma. He’d see her at work in the morning, thank her again for her favor, then it would be business as usual.

It was a good plan, a solid plan. He liked plans.

“When will we break up?” Sara Beth asked as they walked to his car.

“When you’re fed up with my lack of attention.” As usual. The most common complaint he heard from women as they exited his life was, “You forgot I existed.”

He didn’t mean to. It just happened. He put most of his energies into his research. He had a good reason to find a solution to male infertility issues soon. A very good reason.

Yes, he wanted to help mankind, but he particularly wanted to help one man. Until then, Ted had given up his goal to be more social for a personal vow instead, a promise to devote his time and energy to the cause, putting his personal life on hold until he’d accomplished his goal.

Even though he felt ready—more than ready—to marry and have children, he would delay it. He couldn’t give his time to anything else but his research, nor ask a woman to sacrifice time with him so that he could reach his personal goal.

As Ted navigated streets and bridges, he gave Sara Beth a summary of his life. “Only child. Raised by strict but kind parents. Too clumsy to play basketball, even though everyone expected me to because of my height. Total nerd. Or geek. Take your pick of insult. I participated in all the science fairs and academic decathlons.”

“And did very well, I’m sure,” Sara Beth said.

He shrugged. Bragging wasn’t part of his makeup.

“I wanted to get away from home after high school graduation, so I went to Stanford. I met Chance there. We were opposites in most ways, but both of us were determined to make a difference. We teamed up at the Breyer Medical Center in San Francisco and made some progress, but we didn’t have the freedom to work in the way we needed. When Paul Armstrong extended the offer to come here, we said yes.” Immediately. No hesitation at all. “How about you?”

“I’m also an only child, and my mother was strict but kind, but I was a jock. Played soccer from age five through high school and loved it. I didn’t have any interest in leaving home, which is why I went to BC, and because of the institute’s scholarship. I’d been working there since I was sixteen, starting as a part-time file clerk. I’ve never worked anywhere else.”

“So you work there because you feel obligated?”

She didn’t say anything for a while, then, “In some respects that’s true, but I believe in what they do, and it’s a comfortable place for me. Lisa and I have been best friends all our lives, and so I spent a lot of time at the Armstrong home. I know her sister and brothers. Her father was always very kind to me, and my mother loved working for him. In fact, she was his first employee, was even kind of a girl Friday as well as his nurse until they got so big they needed more help.”

She sat up straighter and looked around as he turned onto his parents’ street. “Um, where are we?”

“Mount Vernon Square.”

“As in, Beacon Hill?” she asked, sounding slightly short of horrified.

“Yes.”

“I see,” she said tightly. “And where do you live?”

“Back Bay.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then glanced at her dress. “Are you sure I’m dressed up enough?”

“You look fine.” He almost said beautiful, which was the truth, but caught himself in time figuring she wouldn’t believe him.

She went silent. He continued to talk as if nothing had changed, offering more family information, asking more questions of her, getting subdued answers. But when they arrived, he felt prepared to answer the basic questions his parents might put forward.

Ted let himself and Sara Beth into the 150-year-old Victorian house where he’d grown up. Inside, he pressed a hand to the small of her back and urged her toward the sitting room, where he could hear voices. He was appreciating the curve of her spine when he felt her stiffen a little. “They don’t eat guests for dinner,” he said close to her ear.

She laughed quietly, shakily.

“They’ve found that guests make for a better dessert,” he added just as they walked through the open door.

Conversation stopped. His gaze swept the room. His mother and father were side by side on a settee.

But they were not alone.

Chapter Three

Sara Beth wanted to jab Ted in the ribs. Hard. Obviously he hadn’t warned his parents he was bringing her, because they quickly glanced at a woman about Ted’s age seated in a high-back chair, wearing a Valentine-red, body-hugging dress. She was blond, curvy and regal-looking, the silver spoon in her mouth invisible but obvious in her demeanor.

“Darling,” his mother said as his father stood and came toward Ted and Sara Beth. “You brought a guest. How lovely.”

Sara Beth gave her credit. She sounded genuinely pleased.

Ted shook hands with his father. “I thought I’d surprise you. This is Sara Beth O’Connell. Sara Beth, these are my parents, Brant and Penny Bonner, and a family friend, Tricia Trahearn.”

Sara Beth caught a cool, speculative look from Tricia as they shook hands.

“It’s been a long time, Tricia. How are you?” Ted asked, clasping her hand for a moment too long, in Sara Beth’s opinion. Or was she doing the holding?

“I’m well, thank you. You’re looking wonderful.”

“I can’t complain.” He let go, then bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Happy anniversary.”

Shock surged through Sara Beth, then annoyance. Oh, yeah, she was going to get him for this. It was bad enough she seemed like a party crasher, but he also hadn’t bothered to tell her it was his parents’ anniversary.

“Thank you, darling,” Penny Bonner said, lifting her glass to her husband. “Thirty-four years. Time does fly.”

The only available seating was a second settee, facing his parents. Ted led Sara Beth there. She thought she was doing an admirable job of keeping her expression neutral, while an internal volcano threatened to spew. She’d accepted his invitation because she’d wanted an adventure, to recapture that piece of herself. Instead she felt like an intruder.

Which was Dr. Ted Bonner’s fault, big-time.

Hadn’t her mother warned her forever about doctors, particularly about doctors, love and romance? Yes, yes, yes. Forever. From as far back as Sara Beth’s memory reached. Doctors lived in a world of their own, her mother had said. It was one of the reasons Sara Beth had kept away from Ted, since she’d been dazzled by an instant attraction to him. Nothing serious could ever happen between them.

“Glenfiddich on the rocks for you, I imagine, son?” his father said, then looked at Sara Beth. “What would you like?”

To dump a whole bottle of that pricey whiskey over your son’s head. “White wine would be wonderful, thank you.”

Brant moved to a bar cart, then returned with their drinks. No one spoke. The awkwardness grew by the second. Sara Beth didn’t hazard a glance toward the sexy Tricia Trahearn, but felt the woman’s interest. Or maybe she’d zeroed in on Ted. Either way, she didn’t look anywhere but in their direction.

Sara Beth also wondered how irritated his mother was. Not only would she have to add another place at the table, there would be an odd number instead of even.

Ted’s mother ended the silence. “Tricia is visiting her parents for a month,” Penny said.

Penny was short for Penelope, Sara Beth recalled from Ted’s conversation in the car. His parents were old Boston. Very old Boston, as in James-Bonner-arrived-in-America-on-the-ship-Truelove-in-1623 old Boston. Penelope and Brantley were family names from a long and duly documented genealogy through the centuries. Ted was officially Theodore, so named after ancestors from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. “It could’ve been worse,” he’d told her as he’d parked the car. “Several were named Percival.”

“How are your parents?” Ted asked Tricia, swirling his drink then taking a sip.

“Disappointed in me, as always.”

“Why’s that?”

She recrossed her legs and bounced her foot. “I haven’t married and procreated yet.” She offered a small toast. “I’m sure you’ve heard the refrain.”

Sara Beth didn’t appreciate Tricia’s lack of subtlety, nor the way she seemed so familiar with Ted.

Ted smiled, returning the gesture with his glass. “Tricia is a judge,” he said to Sara Beth. “Youngest on the bench at the moment.”

Of course she is. Probably everyone he knew held positions of power and influence. Sara Beth was proud of where she came from and what she’d accomplished, but this was a whole new world to her.

“Appointed judge. Not here, but in Vermont,” Tricia said. “We’ll see what happens come election time.”

“It’ll be a landslide,” Penny said with assurance. “And for the record, we don’t pester Ted about marrying and procreating, as you so bluntly put it, do we, darling?”

“I suppose one would have to define the word pester, Mother,” Ted responded, but with a smile. His father laughed.

“So, where did you and Sara Beth meet?” Penny asked.

“She’s the head nurse at the Armstrong Fertility Institute.”

“You work together?”

“Not together, exactly. I’m research. She’s medicine,” Ted said.

Sara Beth was fine with the fact he was fudging the truth a little. They weren’t a couple, after all, and they wouldn’t officially be working together until tomorrow morning.

“Do you help deliver babies?” Tricia asked.

“We don’t do deliveries at the institute. We use the hospital next door. A lot of specialized staff and equipment is necessary, since we often have multiple births. I do, however, attend some of the births. Some of our patients find it comforting to have a familiar face present,” Sara Beth explained.

“You enjoy your work?” Penny asked.

“I—Yes, I do. I’ve known since I was a child that it was what I wanted. I’m sure the decision was influenced by my mother, who was head nurse at the institute since Dr. Armstrong started it. She retired recently.”

“And your father?” Penny asked.

Sara Beth wondered if Ted knew her background. In the car she’d only mentioned her mother, and he hadn’t questioned her about her father. “My father has never been part of my life.” But maybe he will be. Maybe I’ll find him, after all. The vault could hold the answers.…

She realized how quiet the room had gotten. No one knew what to say. “My mother and I are very close, though. How did you two meet?” she asked, diverting the conversation to his parents.

Brant laid his hand over Penny’s. Love and affection radiated from her face, and it made Sara Beth hunger for someone to look at her that way. She’d been in a position to observe a lot of couples through the years, couples who were usually under a lot of stress, either trying to get pregnant or waiting out a complicated pregnancy, so they didn’t always glow. Still, it was wonderful to see a husband and wife so obviously in love after so many years.

“Our mothers were in Junior League together,” Penny said. “Brant and I hated each other on sight.”

“We were four years old,” Brant said. “She was annoying.”

“And he annoyed.”

“When did it change?” Sara Beth asked.

“On my sixteenth birthday,” Penny said. “His parents made him come to my party.”

“I did my duty and asked her to dance, a fast dance where we wouldn’t touch, but the song ended right away and a slow one started. I felt stuck.”

“That was all it took,” Penny said, her smile warm as their gazes met. “The moment we touched—”

“Pow.” He stroked her hair. “I stole a kiss later, and that was it for me.”

“Same here.”

Sara Beth glanced at Ted. He was looking into the distance, probably devising some chemical formula in his head—or maybe planning when he would see Tricia again. Or maybe he’d just heard the story too many times for it to have impact. To Sara Beth it was incredibly romantic.

By the time the party moved into the dining room, another place setting had been added. They were served an incredible meal by a small, wiry, white-haired man named Louis, who looked to be in his eighties and who winked at Sara Beth when she’d momentarily been overwhelmed by the situation. She relaxed then and enjoyed the seared salmon with ginger-lime sauce, roasted asparagus and brown rice with scallions. Dessert was carrot cake, an anniversary tradition because it had been Brant and Penny’s groom’s cake.

Conversation happened around her. Questions asked and answered, memories shared. “Remember when?” became Tricia’s catchphrase, grating in Sara Beth’s ears after the third time. And since Sara Beth didn’t know enough about Ted, nor did she have a history with him, she couldn’t counter anything Tricia said with a memory of her own. Ted didn’t seem to notice, just nodded and kept eating.

“Remember the time we sailed to Providence?” Tricia asked Ted as Louis cleared the dessert plates. “We capsized,” she said to Sara Beth. “He saved my life. My hero.”

“You know, I’ve think we’ve bored Sara Beth with history for long enough,” Ted said. He set his hand on the back of Sara Beth’s chair, gave her what seemed like a tender look, almost bringing tears to her eyes, even though she knew he was only putting on a show for his parents.

She stopped being mad at him.

“We should be going,” he said.

“Me, too,” Tricia said, patting her lips with her napkin.

Their farewells were brief. “I’m sorry you didn’t know ahead of time that I was coming,” Sara Beth said to Ted’s parents.

“Please don’t concern yourself,” Penny said. “We were thrilled he brought you. Truly, Sara Beth, your presence was a lovely gift.”

Ted and Sara Beth left the house with Tricia, after Ted helped the woman into her coat. Sara Beth had figured out they must have dated in high school, and had seen each other at some point since, but none of Tricia’s remember-whens seemed recent.

“Maybe if we both get after him,” Tricia said, looking over her shoulder at Sara Beth, “Ted will finally furnish his loft. Penny says it reminds her of a college student. Do you agree?”

Sara Beth debated whether to admit she hadn’t seen his place. “He works a lot.” She felt Ted’s hand cup her shoulder and squeeze.

“I heard. Penny wanted me to volunteer to take on the job of decorating for him. I have a knack for that sort of thing.”

“I’ll get around to it,” Ted said.

“You’ve apparently been saying that for months.”

“And I’ve meant it for months. When things lighten up at work, I’ll take care of it.”

“I already promised to help him,” Sara Beth said, fed up with how the woman kept pushing.

To his credit, Ted didn’t blink an eye at the lie. He just lowered his arm to Sara Beth’s waist. His hand felt hot through her coat, which was an impossibility, she knew. Still …

“Really?” Tricia’s brows arched. She looked Sara Beth over again, as if examining her for some kind of decorator gene—and coming up empty. “Why didn’t you just say so, Ted?”