Marriage by Contract Part 2
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Sandra Steffen
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Harlequin
HarlequinChapter Three Continued
“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.
