He’s your boss, your boss, your boss, Lara repeated to herself.

Derek’s deep-set, hazel eyes narrowed with concern. They were filled with immeasurable warmth as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The world is spinning, and I’m getting older. And all I can think about is how sexy you look.

“Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, thinking she might tell him how she ached to hold her own baby someday. “Are you here with your son?” she asked, straining for a smile. He’d make beautiful babies, she decided.

“Joey and I came to the park to play catch. And for his favorite, hot dogs.”

“That’s a favorite of mine, too.” Lara stood up to leave. “Well, I’ll see you back at the office.” She swung away, smiling. With excruciating honesty, she admitted how difficult it was to ignore the emotions he stirred within her.

“Lara?”

In midstride, she paused and shot a look over her shoulder at him.

His long, hard look nearly melted her bones. “You look terrific.”

Breathe, Lara, breathe. “Thank you.”

Dear Reader,

We’re delighted to feature Jennifer Mikels, who penned the second story in our multiple-baby-focused series, MANHATTAN MULTIPLES. Jennifer writes, “To me, there’s something wonderfully romantic about a doctor-nurse story and about a crush developing into a forever love. In The Fertility Factor (#1559), a woman’s love touches a man’s heart and teaches him that what he thought was impossible is within his reach if he’ll trust her enough.”

Sherryl Woods continues to captivate us with Daniel’s Desire (#1555), the conclusion of her celebrated miniseries THE DEVANEYS. When a runaway girl crosses their paths, a hero and heroine reunite despite their tragic past. And don’t miss Prince and Future…Dad? (#1556), the second book in Christine Rimmer’s exciting miniseries VIKING BRIDES, in which a princess experiences a night of passion and gets the surprise of a lifetime! Quinn’s Woman (#1557), by Susan Mallery is the next in her longtime-favorite HOMETOWN HEARTBREAKERS miniseries. Here, a self-defense expert never expects to find hand-to-heart combat with her rugged instructor….

Return to the latest branch of popular miniseries MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS with Marry Me…Again (#1558) by Cheryl St. John. This dramatic tale shows a married couple experiencing some emotional bumps—namely that their marriage is invalid! Will they break all ties or rediscover a love that’s always been there? Then, Found in Lost Valley (#1560) by Laurie Paige, the fourth title in her SEVEN DEVILS miniseries, is about two people with secrets in their pasts, but who can’t deny the rising tensions between them!

As you can see, we have a lively batch of stories, delivering diversity and emotion in each romance.

Happy reading!

Sincerely,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

The Fertility Factor
Jennifer Mikels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER MIKELS

is from Chicago, Illinois, but resides now in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband, two sons and a shepherd-collie. She enjoys reading, sports, antiques, yard sales and long walks. Though she’s done technical writing in public relations, she loves writing romances and happy endings.

MANHATTAN MULTIPLES

So much excitement happening at once!

The doors of Manhattan Multiples might close.

The mayor and Eloise Vale once had a thing.

Someone on the staff is pregnant

and is keeping it a secret.

Romance and drama—and so many babies in the big city!

Dr. Derek Cross—Best-looking single-dad doctor in the city, or at least that’s what Lara Mancini thinks. But with a painful divorce under his belt and his busy life, will Derek surrender to secret fantasies about his nurse?

Lara Mancini—Dr Cross’s nurse is in love with her boss. And while Lara loves taking care of people, her biological clock is ticking. Will she and Derek find a way to stop time in its tracks?

Allison Baker—Assistant to Manhattan Multiples’ director, this shy beauty is about to let loose for the first time in her life. And when she does, one Prince Charming will find her irresistible and will go to the ends of the earth to find his runaway princess.

A man walks into a bar…and meets the woman of his dreams. Can a firefighting hero and a vivacious free-spirit pull off the performance of a lifetime without falling in love? Find out in next month’s HIS PRETEND FIANCÉE, by Victoria Pade (SE #1564).

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Prologue

“D addy, I’m talking about a girlfriend.”

Derek Cross set a hand on his five-year-old son’s shoulder and slowed their pace to weave a path around pigeons pecking at the cement. “You have a girlfriend?” he asked while he urged his son into Central Park.

Head back, Joey squinched his nose. “Not me.”

He’d thought his son was still in his I-don’t-like-girls stage. “So who has one?”

“No one does.”

Where was this conversation going? Derek wondered. Through sunglasses, he squinted up at the clear blue sky and bright summer sun. Usually he had no trouble following his son’s disorganized conversations. “Joey, let’s start over.”

“Can I have an ice cream?” Joey asked, pointing in the direction of a vendor.

Derek ran a hand over the top of Joey’s shiny, dark-brown hair, then plopped the baseball cap back on the boy’s head. “After lunch.”

“If we have lunch, will we get home in time?”

“In time for what?” What was his concern this time? At five, Joey fretted with the expertise of a forty-year-old. “Mommy doesn’t come for you today,” Derek reminded him.

“The ball game, Daddy. You said you’d have time to watch it with me.”

“Some of it. Joey, about what you were saying. Who has a girlfriend?”

Imitating a professional ballplayer’s actions, Joey slapped the baseball into his mitt. “You need one.”

“I—” The last time he’d been speechless had been the day Joey was born. “I…need one?”

“Uh-huh. Someone special.”

Derek managed not to laugh. “Why do I?”

“Because you’re lonely.”

That was news to him. Busy described his life better. Between his medical practice and his son, he hadn’t had time to bother with more than casual dating. But even if he had more time, after his marriage had failed, he’d vowed never again. Love was the last thing he wanted. “Who said I am?” Derek asked, certain someone had put the idea in Joey’s head.

“Mommy says so.”

He should have known. Leave it to Rose. Despite the divorce three years ago—because he and Rose had parted amicably, she never hesitated to voice her opinion about his love life or, in her words, “lack of it.”

“Mommy’s going on a date,” Joey added.

Derek had heard, wished her well. But he understood now what was happening. Rose figured if she was dating, it was time for him, too. They needed to talk. “What else did Mommy say?”

“She said she’s going on a vacation before she clapses.”

Derek chuckled. “Before she clapses.”

“That’s what she said.”

“I believe you, Joey.” He checked his watch, promised himself he wouldn’t do that again while with Joey, but mentally he calculated time. With luck, before he had to leave for appointments, he’d manage to watch two innings of the ball game with his son.

“Mommy said you need a date.”

Was he really having a conversation about his lack of female companions with his five-year-old son? You need a life, Doc, he mused. “Come on. Let’s play ball.”

“Do you know a girl, Daddy?”

Plenty of them. But if he could pick and choose, he already had a candidate, his nurse. A tall, willowy knockout with a flawless, fair complexion, long blond hair and green eyes. “I know some, Joey.” Like Lara Mancini with the bright, pearly white smile and delicate features. “Don’t worry about me.”

Chapter One

“Y ou’re such a natural with them, Lara.”

Lara Mancini cradled the six-week-old girl in her arms and smiled. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Last count, I had ten nieces and nephews.”

Standing beside her, the beaming mom and dad of the triplets each held one infant.

In the three years since Lara had volunteered as a nurse at Manhattan Multiples, a center for multiple births, she’d held many babies, but she never lost interest or felt too tired to hold one. While still in her teens and baby-sitting for every neighbor on the block, she realized how much she loved being with children.

“You should be a mother, Lara,” the woman said.

“Someday. Your next appointment is in six months unless you need to see Dr. Cross sooner,” Lara said while placing the little one in an infant seat.

“No, I’m feeling great.” The young woman shot a meaningful look at her husband as they bent down to place the other two babies in car seats.

Lara assumed the silent exchange carried a definite message of intimacy since they’d received the all-clear to resume relations.

“Come on,” her husband urged. “Lara has other patients to care for.”

“I always enjoy being with these three,” Lara assured them. She smiled, watched them leave. The daddy carted out two infant seats, while his wife managed one and an oversize pink-and-blue diaper bag. Lara cast a look at the gallery clock on the half wall behind the appointment counter. The appointments on this Saturday morning had been lighter than usual.

Having promised to meet co-workers downstairs in the reception area a few minutes before noon, she hurried into the staff lounge, and rushed to her locker to change out of blue-colored scrubs. She slid on a deep-green, V-necked, sleeveless top and an ankle-length, silk floral skirt, released her hair from the tortoiseshell clasp and fluffed it. After snatching up her shoulder bag from her locker, she dashed to the elevator.

On the way down to the first floor, she attached small, gold hoop earrings and a gold chain to dress up the outfit. She thought about what the couple had said to her. Everyone said the same. She was a natural with babies.

You should be a mother. Her stomach knotted. She wasn’t one, might never be. Depressing thoughts had started at seven that morning. Over the phone a friend, fighting tears, had told her terrible news. Sadness had shadowed Lara ever since Gena’s call about her appointment at her gynecologist.

As the elevator doors swooshed open, Lara fought her sad mood. In the lobby she saw Eloise Vale, Manhattan Multiples’ director disappear into her office. Another nurse, Carrie Williamson, was waiting beside Josie Tate’s desk.

The center’s receptionist, Josie, was a cute, petite brunette with an abundance of blond streaks, who favored denim clothes. Her bright smile was the first thing people saw when they entered Manhattan Multiples.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Lara said to both of them from a few feet away.

“No problem.” Carrie, a tall brunette with a slight build, led the way to the center’s entrance. “I’ve been telling Josie about my latest dating fiasco,” she said while pushing open one of the double glass doors. A man bumped shoulders with Carrie, as he plowed his way through the crowd. “I’m looking for a prince among frogs.”

Lara knew where there was one—Dr. Derek Cross. Handsome, rich, charming. She kept the thought to herself. Never had he indicated interest in her, but from day one, she’d felt a tightness in her chest whenever he was near. Her secret crush was her business, no one else’s. She liked her job, wanted to keep it.

“I can’t believe how hot it is,” Josie said.

“Neither can I,” Lara agreed when they stopped at a curb for a red light. A summer heat wave for the past two days had left New Yorkers cranky.

“That’s a great outfit, Lara.”

Josie nodded her agreement of Carrie’s comment.

“Thanks. I didn’t think scrubs would play well today.” For the upscale restaurant near the center’s Madison Avenue address, she and Carrie had changed outfits.

It was their splurge week. Instead of the deli nearby, the three women strolled to a pricey restaurant with rosewood paneled walls, crystal, linen and enormous flower arrangements. Inside, the buzz of conversation and the clink of silverware filled the room.

Even after they were seated at a table for four, Carrie continued to rattle on about her date two nights ago. “He bought me a hot dog. That was his idea of a big date. Then we took a taxi to the theater. He was out of money. I ask you. Why did he suggest the taxi if he couldn’t pay for it? Because he knew he couldn’t. How insulting.”

Lara sipped her water and absently listened to Josie offering sympathetic words to Carrie about her tale of woe.

Josie poked a fork into the shrimp salad just delivered, but paused with the fork in midair. “Lara, are you sick? You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m in trouble,” Lara answered, frowning at her Caesar salad.

As if playing a child’s game of Red Light, Green Light, they both froze.

“You’re pregnant?” Carrie mumbled, her mouth full.

“You would have told us if you were, wouldn’t you?” Josie asked.

“I’m not pregnant,” Lara said, “and that’s what’s really wrong. Time is running out for me.”

“To get pregnant, you mean?” Josie asked.

Lara nodded. “I used to believe that I had plenty of time to think about a husband, about tying myself down, about children. But I’m thirty-eight. I feel pressure now to get pregnant soon, before it’s too late.”

Carrie shook her head. “Oh, you’ll be okay.”

Did they really understand? Lara wondered. Carrie perhaps did. She was thirty-two and divorced. But Josie might not understand her desperation. Often Josie had scoffed at the idea of having children. But then Josie was only twenty-five. She could afford to be a free spirit for a few more years.

“Anyone would want you,” Carrie said.

Lara laughed. How sweet she was. “No, they wouldn’t. Men my age want sexy young things with thighs of steel.”

“You have thighs of steel.”

Lara nearly snorted. “They’re not Jell-O—well, maybe firm Jell-O.”

“I’ve seen you in a bikini,” Josie cut in. “Most women would die for your figure, Lara. You’re pretty enough to be a movie star.”

“She was a movie star,” Carrie reminded her.

Lara had strived for a long time to earn her living doing something she loved—acting. But like others with “pie in the sky” dreams, she’d faced the truth several years ago. Though she’d known a more glamorous life, had acted in a Broadway play, even a few movies, she doubted she’d make it big as an actress.

“I don’t know how you could give all that up,” Carrie said.

“It wasn’t that glamorous. Where are you performing this week, Josie?”

“Goodfellows.” At night Josie hung out at coffee shops or smoky bars where she read her poetry. “It’s an upscale bar in the West Village. Will you come? It’s not far from your place.”

“I’ll try.” Lara had saved diligently and had invested well to afford a one-bedroom apartment in the West Village building, complete with a doorman.

“Me, too,” Carrie said between bites of her chicken sandwich.

They stayed longer than they should have and rushed back toward the center at Madison Avenue and Seventy-eighth Street. Lara said goodbye as the other women were about to enter the center, said she had an errand to run. She had time before the first afternoon appointment arrived. The truth was she wanted to be alone. She needed time to think.

She wandered into Central Park, found a bench. She’d been deadly serious with her co-workers. Her usual optimism had waned with her friend Gena’s early-morning, tearful phone call. Lara had ached for her. The news had stormed her with doubts and despair about her own ability to get pregnant.

In two years she’d celebrate her fortieth birthday. She didn’t have time anymore. She needed to get pregnant now.

“It’s lunchtime, Mancini. What are you doing sitting here, alone?”

The male voice jerked her head up. Even with sunlight in her eyes, she knew who stood before her. Light glowed around him, but she saw the easy, half smile tugging at a corner of his lips.

“Hi.” Mentally she prodded herself to act normal. That was no easy task. Derek Cross tripped every feminine instinct within her. “The park’s a good place to think.” He’s your boss, your boss, your boss, Lara repeated to herself like a mantra.

Beneath dark, straight brows, his deep-set, hazel eyes narrowed with concern. She ranked his eyes as one of his best features. Cool, unreadable—sometimes. Filled with unmeasurable warmth during other moments, like today. “Are you okay?”

The light breeze tossed his dark-brown hair. She thought he was even sexier with the strands slightly disturbed, mussed in much the way they’d look from a woman’s touch. “Yes, I’m fine.” The world is spinning, and I’m getting older. And all I can think about is how sexy you look. The black polo shirt clung to muscled biceps and a lean, flat belly. She’d just known he would have such a well-toned body. Denim curved around a tight butt and followed long, strong-looking legs. A shiver inched its way up her spine. She wouldn’t drool, she promised herself. It didn’t matter that she was much too old for such nonsense. He made her hot, all six-four of him. “Have you had your lunch yet?”

He tipped his head slightly in a questioning manner.

Mentally she moaned. Did he think she was asking him to have lunch with her? “I mean—” Oh, this was insane. She was an intelligent woman who managed to snag even a stranger’s attention with interesting conversation, so why was she acting like a ninny? “I just finished having it. My lunch.” Scintillating, Lara. This will undoubtedly be the last time he talked to her about anything except a patient. At the office he’d always been all business. “With Josie and Carrie.” She needed to get a grip. “Do you know them?”

His eyes held an amused smile. “Yes, I know them.”

“I—” She paused, vowed to drown herself if she blushed. She needed to pretend they were at work. Tongue-tied was not normal for her. If anything, she’d been accused, mainly by family, of being gabby.

“Do you need anything?”

Oh, what a question.

“Is there something I can do to help? If there is, tell me,” Derek added while he braced the bicycle he’d ridden to the park against the bench.

She shook her head, wished he’d stop asking. She might tell him that she was frightened. She wanted to hold a baby. She ached to hold her own baby. “Are you here with your son?” she asked, and strained for a smile. He’d make beautiful babies, she decided. The boys would have that long, straight nose, that strong, sharply angled face. They’d be as gorgeous as their father.

“Joey and I came to the park to play catch.”

From previous conversations with him, she knew that he and his son usually went to the park on the weekends. As Derek shifted his stance, she realized he’d angled his body while talking to her so he never lost sight of his son. She thought the boy with his dark-brown hair and blue eyes already had his father’s great looks.

“And we came for lunch. One of my son’s favorites. Hot dogs.”

Lara stood up to leave. “That’s a favorite of mine, too,” she said but didn’t move as he smiled. She liked his mouth, too. Firm looking with a full bottom lip. Then there were the slashing high cheekbones. She’d always been a sucker for a man with high cheekbones.

“I’ve heard you’re a fantastic cook. I wouldn’t think you’d touch a hot dog.”

She barely kept an idiotic grin from forming. What a perfect opportunity to say she’d be glad to cook him something some evening. Of course, she couldn’t. “I like cooking. Even hot dogs.”

“Anyone who can cook hot dogs rates high with my son. Is today special?” he asked, gesturing toward her clothes.

“We—” She paused. During her stint as an actress, she’d kissed a few heart-stopping, handsome males. Didn’t matter. She was sunk around Derek Cross. “We had an expensive lunch today—a once-a-month treat.”

“Nice.”

Dumbly she waited for him to say more.

Instead he shot a look at his son and beckoned him toward them. “Do you remember Ms. Mancini, Joey?”

“My name’s Lara.” She’d met him a few times before when Derek had brought him to the office, but he’d been younger, and she assumed he wouldn’t remember her. She gestured toward Joey’s baseball mitt. “Your dad told me that you love baseball.”

Derek frowned. “Did I?”

A twinge of disappointment whipped through her. She’d been so thrilled when he’d shared his celebratory mood and had told her about his son’s first home run on the previous day. “Yes, in passing.”

“I remember you. Do you want to play?” Joey asked.

Derek touched his slender shoulder. “Joey, she can’t—”

“I could, if I had more time. I love baseball, too.” Lara glanced at her watch, a serviceable round face with a black band. “Do you like the Yankees?”

“Yeah!”

“Me, too. I try never to miss a game.”

“There’s one on television today.”

“I know,” Lara said. “But I can’t watch it. I have to get back to work.” Maybe she was talking too much.

Derek sent her a questioning look. “I’d never have guessed you were a fan. Baseball seems too quiet for you.”

A laugh bubbled in her throat. “Too quiet?” Amusement stayed with her. She knew his background. The Cross family claimed a lineage that dated back to the American Colonies. How did Derek view her? Flighty? Eccentric? Because she’d been an actress? She’d learned from one man that the upper crust viewed theater people as a step above bohemians. James Braden III had made it clear that grease-paint and blue blood didn’t mix. “I have brothers. Quiet is not in the Mancini vocabulary.”

Derek flashed a smile. “They play ball?”

“One of them was always asking me to play catch.”

“I gather you come from a big family?”

“Three brothers, two sisters,” she said, feeling more at ease because Joey was near.

“I never knew that about you.”

Why would he? She was his nurse, nothing more. He’d have no reason to bother finding out anything about her. But he knew about her love of cooking? Why? Had he asked about her? Probably not, she decided. Someone might have said something, maybe at Christmastime when they’d had a potluck buffet at the center and everyone had brought a homemade dish. “Maybe some other time we can play,” she said, just to please the boy. She knew she’d never be with them again. “If that’s all right with your daddy,” she added.

Joey sent her a quick grin, obviously taking her words to heart. “Is it, Dad?”

With a gentle hand, Derek cupped his son’s shoulder. “We’ll see.”

A nice, noncommittal response, Lara mused.

“Daddy, can we go now?”

“I promised we’d watch the ball game until I have to leave,” Derek said to her.

During the three years since she’d begun working side by side with Derek, Lara had never seen him look so relaxed. It had nothing to do with the clothes. It was the way he looked at his son. No strain tightened his jawline. No annoyance narrowed his eyes. He looked so calm.

Joey took a step away, then halted, remembering her. “Bye, Lara.”

“See you, Joey.” She waited until he was out of hearing range. “He’s so adorable, Derek.”

“I think so. That was nice of you,” he said. “I owe you.”

She swung away, smiling. With excruciating honesty, she admitted her feelings for this man were like a teenage crush. That sounded incredibly immature for a thirty-eight-year-old woman, but she couldn’t ignore the emotions he stirred.

“Lara?”

In midstride, she paused, shot a look over her shoulder at him. She’d thought they were done.

His long, hard look nearly melted her bones. “You look terrific.”

Breathe, Lara, breathe. “Thank you.” During sensible moments she told herself that he’d probably drive her crazy with his inflexibility. She was a “wing it” person. Five siblings had forced her to have an easygoing nature. Adaptability was a must with a capital A. Derek definitely was intense, all wrong for her. He was also out of her league. But it didn’t matter a whit that they had nothing in common except a love for kids. She had the hots for him.

Derek watched her walk away and swore softly. She hadn’t told him what was wrong. He’d seen her sitting on the park bench. Head bent, she’d looked so alone. He’d never seen her alone. People gravitated toward her. At work someone—a patient’s family or a co-worker—was always talking to her.

“She’s pretty.”

Derek caught his son’s small hand and grabbed the handlebar of the bicycle. “Yes.”

More than one nurse had complained that he was aloof, detached, distant. He’d gone through several nurses before Lara had worked for him. He was too much of a perfectionist, people claimed. He expected too much, was tough on the people who worked with him. He didn’t think so. Babies, precious and innocent, were in his care. They deserved the best he and everyone he worked with could give them. He’d found that person when Lara Mancini had come to work with him. He’d be a fool to ruin the working relationship he had with her.

“She likes you. I can tell.”

Derek chuckled. “How can you tell?” he asked, interested in hearing his son’s observation.

“Because she smiled at you a lot. A real lot. Rylyn liked Adam and smiled at him all the time.”

“Who’s Rylyn?”

“The one with the pink lunch box at school.”

“Oh, okay.” Rylyn, a kindergarten classmate, was a dimpled redhead with freckles.

“When they like you, they smile a lot.”

Derek grinned. Was he really getting advice from his five-year-old son?

“And you smiled at her a lot, too.”

“We work together, Joey. Lara is my nurse.”

“Couldn’t she be your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think so.” No, she couldn’t. He knew she couldn’t be. Lara Mancini wanted everything he was rejecting—promises, commitment, love, marriage and children. Derek tightened his hand on his son’s. Joey had gone through everything that Derek had promised himself no child of his ever would. He’d never do that to another child.

“Daddy, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m talking to you, and you’re not listening.” Joey frowned. “In school, you get your name on the board if you do that.”

Derek pulled a silly face and whacked the side of his head. “Me? I did that. Again?” As Joey laughed at him, Derek dropped to his haunches. “Climb aboard.”

Joey placed one arm around Derek’s neck and gripped his shirt at the shoulder with his other hand. “Couldn’t she be?” he asked, straddling Derek’s back for a piggyback ride.

Derek paused in walking the bike and unhooked the water bottle from behind the seat to offer Joey a drink.

“I was thirsty.” He gulped a mouthful of water, then handed Derek the water bottle.

“Joey, what is this about?” Derek asked and took a hearty swallow of the water.

“You have to like her to make a baby, don’t you?”

The water spewed out of his mouth. “What? Who said anything about babies?” He’d have a long talk with his ex-wife if she was putting this stuff in Joey’s head.

“Rylyn said I need to be a big brother. Everyone in my class is having a baby.”

Rylyn again. “They are?”

“Even the turtle. They lay eggs. Mrs. Wolken has a big egg in her.”

Mrs. Wolken was a kindergarten teacher in her last trimester. “She doesn’t have an egg in her. She has a baby.”

“Uh-huh. A baby is inside an egg.”

They’d talk tonight at bedtime. Now wasn’t the time to have a discussion about the birds and bees. “Let’s get home. Dorothy is making your favorite cookies,” he said about Dorothy Donaldson, housekeeper, nanny, good friend. She wore a lot of hats for them. “She’s waiting for you to help.”

Joey leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Chocolate chip?”

“Aren’t they your favorite?”

“Uh-huh.” He hugged Derek’s neck tighter. “I like Lara,” he added.

So did he. She revved his motor, especially today in that outfit. Possibly he was thinking so much about her because she’d looked different today. Classy. Sexy.

Chapter Two

E ven when Lara was in an annoyed mood, Manhattan Multiple’s warm blue interior calmed her. Hot from her walk to the center, she welcomed the coolness in the air-conditioned center’s reception area.

Josie sat on a chair behind the front desk. At Lara’s entrance, she signaled to her. “I wanted to tell you more at lunch,” she whispered. “But I didn’t want to say anything in front of Carrie and be a source of gossip.” She looked up as a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair passed by.

Along with Josie, Lara said hello.

“A new doctor. A perinatologist, like Dr. Cross.” Josie glanced away to smile when another employee, Allison Baker, also passed by them. In her mid-twenties, she was thin, with chin-length auburn-colored hair. Lara thought of her as rather sweet, maybe a touch too prim. Josie, who stood several inches shorter than Allison, had become a good friend of hers in a short amount of time. “She’s in love,” Josie said.

Lara smiled. “She told you?”

“No, you can tell,” Josie said, nodding her head. Overhead lights highlighted the blond streaks threaded through brown strands. “She met someone last month. That’s what you need.”

“What do I need?” Lara asked.

“A handsome stranger.”

Lara knew a man who suited her just fine. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Josie hunched forward. “Eloise received e-mail from the mayor. She was really upset. I mean really.”

Lara assumed Josie heard that from Allison Baker, Eloise’s personal assistant.

“No one knows what he wrote, but Eloise is usually so calm and sweet. Whatever he said disturbed her.”

Mentally Lara shook her head. She found it hard to believe that Mayor Bill Harper was going out of his way to make Eloise’s life miserable. Lara liked the mayor, believed he was an honest, straightforward man.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Josie asked.

“Could be.” Lara refrained from saying more when she didn’t know all the facts. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Getting time to do anything became an impossibility. Busy all day, Lara ushered one of the last patients of the day to the door. “Won’t be long now,” she said to the woman, who carried a burden that made her every step slow and labored. But the woman was fortunate. For someone carrying multiple babies, she’d had a relatively normal pregnancy—no morning sickness, no gestation diabetes.

The woman released a short laugh. “I’m looking forward to seeing my feet. I suppose everyone says that.”

Lara nodded. Most pregnant women made a similar complaint. She would love to have the problem. If she ever got pregnant, she’d relish every single moment, including the ones that made her feel lousy. Because she was still troubled about Gena’s news, she’d struggled with smiles all day. Though she had a dozen things to do after work, including laundry, she decided to relax with a book and a glass of wine after she got home.

The workday stretched longer than she’d expected. Everyone had left long ago, and she was still there. So was Derek. The woman in the examining room had complained about heavy discharge since her babies’ birth. An erosion of the cervix, an occasional problem following delivery, had required an in-office procedure. Derek had cauterized the cervical area with no discomfort to the woman. While the patient dressed to leave, Lara enjoyed spending the time with the woman’s twins.

“They’re staying even.” Lara commented to the woman when she emerged from the examining room to leave.

“They’ve both gained another pound. Devin is a half inch bigger than Ian.”

“He’s the oldest, isn’t he?” Lara said.

“Born one minute and fifty-five seconds before his brother.”

“He’ll probably never let him forget that,” Derek said, coming up behind them in the outer office.

“I expect that’s true,” the mother said.

“You’re going on vacation, aren’t you?” Lara asked her as Derek left them to return to his office.

“Yes.” She checked on her babies in the blue-plaid baby carriage. “It’s a family holiday at Martha’s Vineyard. Dr. Cross said he vacationed there as a child.”

“I’m sure it’s nice.”

And a place for the affluent. Unlike his family, hers originally resided in New York’s Little Italy.

Lara saw the woman out to the waiting room, then wandered into the staff lounge. It was late. She knew security had escorted the woman and her babies to a taxi. Thunder rumbled angrily and lightning flashed, casting the offices in an eerie glow.

Uneasy about the lateness more than the weather, she moved quickly. With another flash of lightning, she hurried to her locker and snatched up her umbrella, then grabbed her shoulder bag. Her footsteps echoed on the floor before she hit the carpeted hallway. From a distance, she heard the elevator doors open and ran the rest of the way. A few lab technicians were still in the building. She’d rather ride down with them than be alone. Nearing the elevator, she saw the doors stood open, waiting for her.

Just inside, Derek grinned. “Want to ride down together?”

Winded, her heart pounding, Lara pressed a hand to her chest. “Yes.” She stood only inches from him. With his lengthy look, she struggled for conversation. “I always liked storms.” Since coming in this morning, neither of them had said anything about their meeting in the park. She’d felt closer to him there. But except for this brief conversation, they were back to all business. Of course, they’d been busy all day. But he’d acted as if those moments had never happened.

Nervous in the quiet elevator with him, she went into her survival mode. She talked. Talked about the patients, about lunch at the exquisite restaurant, about his son. “He’s really cute, Dr. Cross.”

“Lara, away from the office, don’t you think you should call me Derek?”

Okeydokey. “Derek.” She took a deep breath. “Wasn’t there a doctors’ staff meeting this morning? Have you heard more about the feud between Eloise and the mayor?” She wondered if he knew more than the rest of the staff about the situation between Eloise and the mayor. “Do you think Manhattan Multiples might close?”

“If Bill Harper is serious about stopping funding, that could happen.”

Lara frowned. “Some of the staff are concerned they might lose their jobs.”

“You shouldn’t worry. You’re an excellent nurse. You’d never have a problem finding a new job.”

He looked down at his watch, frowned. He had somewhere to go, someone waiting for him. She wasn’t surprised. He was considered quite a catch by co-workers. Because she was taken with him, Lara always kept her thoughts about him to herself, not wanting to reveal the crush she had on him.

“I’m going to be in trouble tonight.”

Someone special was waiting for him. I don’t want to hear this, she thought.

“I promised to cook sloppy joes.”

“You eat sloppy joe sandwiches?” she asked about the messy hamburger mix on a bun. She couldn’t visualize a butler serving that.

He laughed. “I brush my teeth, too.”

She felt heat sweep over her face.

“I’m sorry.” He flashed a smile that nearly buckled her knees. “I couldn’t resist teasing.”

“I’m just surprised that you cook.” Especially something appropriate for eating on a TV tray. The man came from money. Wasn’t he accustomed to servants?

“Only sloppy joes. Dorothy cooks the rest of our meals. You know who I mean. You’ve talked to her.”

“Yes.” She’d had brief conversations with his housekeeper-nanny. While he withdrew his cell phone, she stepped back to give him privacy, but it wasn’t difficult to hear.

“Dorothy, I’m leaving now and—what the…” The elevator jerked, then stopped. He caught Lara’s wrist to steady her. “Are you okay?”

Sensation stirred deep within her. He had to be kidding? He was touching her. She couldn’t think about anything else.

“Dorothy, I’m going to be a little late, I think.” Repeatedly he pushed at the alarm button. Nothing happened. “Damn. No medical emergency….” he explained to Dorothy. “A sick elevator. It stalled. I’ll call you back.”

As he swung a look at Lara, she gave him a faint smile. She was stuck in an elevator with him. They could be there for hours. Overnight. What should she talk about? Maybe she shouldn’t say anything. Lord, she didn’t want to act like a ninny.

“Are you claustrophobic?”

No, that wasn’t her problem. “No.”

He grinned at her. “Fearless, aren’t you?”

Lara wasn’t sure what he meant.

“You like storms, don’t panic being stuck in an elevator. Fearless.”

“I don’t think about where we are. Being stuck in an elevator between floors could be unnerving, but it won’t be if you don’t think about it.” How simple she made that sound, how calm she appeared. Far from it. She drew a deep breath. It was insane to be so uneasy. She talked to him every day. So what if they were in a closet-size space? So what if there was no one around to act as a buffer?

“You did a good job with Mrs. Benson. She was stressing until you reassured her. I’m glad you were here for her this evening. You seem to know the right thing to say,” Derek said.

Business. Okay, that would be best. They’d discuss business. “Thank you.”

He gave her a look of compassion. “Lara, could you use a sympathetic shoulder?”

“Why would you think that?” She hadn’t thought anyone had noticed her blue mood, especially him.

He stared long and hard at her as if trying to see inside her. “You didn’t bubble today.”

“Bubble?” He thought she bubbled? Her laugh slipped out.

“You usually bubble. You’re the sunniest, most smiley person I’ve ever met. But you looked as if you were working at those smiles today.”

Deliberately she feigned a bright one.

“It’s not working.”

Lara heard the teasing lilt in his voice and found herself smiling. “It’s not?”

“No. You said that you’re not worried about the center closing. Do you have a different work problem?”

“No, I don’t.” She hesitated then realized she could have talked to co-workers about this at lunch. Why hadn’t she? Why did she feel like sharing her heartache for a friend with him? “I received a call from a high-school friend this morning and—” Her words remained unfinished as the elevator moved a few inches, then jerked to a stop again.

“Hello,” a male voice yelled down to them. “Anyone there?”

“Yeah, Frank,” Derek called back.

Lara was touched that he knew the name of the building’s security man, a retired police detective.

“It’s Derek Cross and Lara Mancini.”

Lara mentally groaned. The gossips would have fun tomorrow with that news. She could imagine the whispered words. Guess who was stuck in the elevator? Alone. For hours.

“Dr. Cross, I’ll get maintenance right on it,” Frank yelled. “You two will be out in a jiffy.”

“Thanks, Frank,” Derek called back. Swinging a look at her, he shrugged. “We’re stuck. He’ll get maintenance—”

“Right on it,” she finished for him. Now what? “Looks as if we’ll have plenty of time.”

“Finish telling me about your friend.”

As long as she didn’t think too much about them, about the excitement that tingled her skin whenever he was near, she’d make sense. “She’s the same age as me.” When Gena had called, panic had rushed through Lara. Gena’s problem could easily be her own. “She has endometrioses.”

“She’s been to a specialist?”

“Yes. The doctor told Gena she might need a hysterectomy.”

“No kids?” Derek asked, leaning against the back wall of the elevator.

“No, she doesn’t have any. Learning about Gena has made me aware that time is getting away from me.”

“You have time.”

“Not really.” If he’d kiss her, just once, maybe she’d stop thinking about it. “I’m thirty-eight.”

“I assume you mean the biological clock is ticking.”

Lara nodded. “Having children matters to me. A lot. I can’t wait any longer.”

“I didn’t know there was someone special in your life.”

This wasn’t something she wanted to admit to him. “There isn’t.”

“Are you talking about artificial—”

Oh, this was too much. Embarrassing. She sounded as if she was a charity case, couldn’t attract a man. “No, no,” Lara cut in. “I won’t do that. But I’ve made a decision.” She might as well level with him, tell him what he’d probably learn via the center’s gossip grapevine. “Within the next six months, I’ll make every effort to find Mr. Right, to get married. So within the year, I’ll get pregnant.”

“You make that sound easy.”

She nearly laughed. “It isn’t or I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“You’ll forget about love and orange blossoms and whatever else?” He smiled again. She realized she loved the way his lips curved in a slow-forming smile. “Are you thinking about a sperm bank?”

Lara rolled her eyes at him. “I can’t go to a sperm bank or do in-vitro fertilization.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Won’t. I come from an Italian-American family that believes motherhood is sacred. They’d never understand if I had a baby any way but by the traditional way.”

“So you’re looking for—”

Why had she revealed so much to him? “Mr. Right,” she finished for him. “You sound skeptical. Don’t you believe there is a Mr. Right?”

“Could be fantasy.”

“You’re a skeptic about love?”

“For me.” He frowned as if he was surprised he’d told her that. “No man is perfect, Lara.”

“No, but someone could be perfect for me.”

He arched a brow. “I guess that’s realistic. What will you do? Look for someone you have a lot in common with?”

“That would probably be best. I have a few annoying traits.”

The tease was in his eyes again. “You do?”

“My family claims I talk too much.” He probably thought so, too. But she rambled when nervous or excited.

“But you’re interesting.”

Interesting. Her pulse thudded. “And I laugh a lot.”

“Cheerful.”

To say she wasn’t pleased by his take on her would have been a blatant lie. “I drive some people crazy because it takes me a while to finish jobs. I have good intentions, but no one ever said you couldn’t enjoy yourself while doing chores. Right?”

He shrugged. “I’m from the do-it-and-get-it-done school.”

He wouldn’t understand. Someone like him would think she was silly.

“What do you mean when you say it takes you a while? Why does it?”

She had no choice now except to be honest with him. “I like to sing and dance. What my family will never let me live down is the time I was in the kitchen singing ‘What’s Love Got To Do with It,’ while I was supposed to be drying dishes.”

Puzzlement veed his brows.

“I was standing on a kitchen chair with a turkey baster in my hand.”

“A turkey baster?”

“It was my microphone.”

He laughed, a deep rumbling laugh.

Enjoying herself, she went on, “Since then, the running joke in my family is—expect Lara to take an hour to do a ten-minute task.”

“Love them, don’t you?”

Was she imagining that he sounded envious? “Immensely. And I know they love me. If they’re enjoying themselves, I can be the brunt of their tease.”

“What kind of questions will you ask to find out if some guy is Mr. Right?”

“I…I never gave that a lot of thought. He’d have to be caring.” She was a people person who’d take a walk on the weekend just to talk to neighbors. “I suppose I’ll ask what kind of music he likes. I like fifties and sixties hits the most, but will listen to almost any other kind of music. What do you listen to?”

“Classical. Opera.”

Lara nodded, not surprised. He probably went to the symphony before he was three. An exaggeration, she knew. But this man had led a life a world apart from hers. “I might ask my Mr. Right candidate what the last movie was that he saw.”

“That might not tell you anything about him.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled in private amusement. “Because the last movie I saw had a big mouse and raccoon in it.”

“Oh, I saw that, too. Cute, wasn’t it?”

“I saw it because of my son. Why did you?”

With a turn of his head, the light overhead illuminated the strong lines of his face. She’d like to touch it, run her fingers over his cheek, his jaw. “Nieces and nephews,” she answered.

“I guess it would be important for Mr. Right to like Italian food.”

He was perceptive. “I had it before baby formula.” A man who didn’t like Italian food would hate holidays with her family, any meal. Regardless of what was served, pork loin or ham or turkey, her mother always served a side of spaghetti or ravioli. And she would be insulted if the man didn’t at least sample everything on her table. “I’d like it if he skied.”

“You ski?”

Lara shook her head. “I don’t, but I’d like to.”

“So anyone who skis gets points?”

She laughed at how silly that sounded. “Yes, I guess so.”

“What else?”

Was he, too, trying to keep conversation going? Never had they shared so much personal information with each other. “I like lazing around on days off, having breakfast in bed while I read the newspaper. Do you?”

“I get up at five to run in the park. Who serves you breakfast in bed?”

“No one.” She knew what she was going to say would sound dumb. “I get up, make breakfast, bring it on a tray to the bed and pretend it was served. Sounds silly, huh?”

“No. You must have a great imagination.”

Excitement stormed her as she watched his eyes briefly fall upon her lips. “I acted for a while.”

“I know you did.” He slid a hand into his slacks pocket. “Why the career change? Actress to nurse?”

“I had a calling.” She assumed only another person in medicine would understand. “How far do you run?” She could probably manage a block or two.

“Three miles.”

Lara mentally groaned at the thought of so much exercise. “Every morning?”

“Every morning.”

He was disgustingly disciplined.

Looking down again, he gestured at the knitting needles sticking out of her shoulder bag. “What are you making?”

Feverishly she’d knit during every minute of her spare time. “It’s an afghan. For a cousin’s baby. Due in another month.”

“A boy?” he asked, gesturing toward the blue yarn.

“Yes, he—” The elevator dropped. Two, maybe three inches. No more. Suddenly they stood in darkness. “Oh my God, Derek.” She reached out, groped for him.

“I’m here.” His hand caught hers and tugged her to him.

The back beneath her palms was solid, broad, muscular. Pulse pounding, she leaned away to see his face.

“Come on.” He drew her even closer. “Sit on the floor with me. That would be smarter than standing.”

He meant in case the elevator dropped, didn’t he?

Despite his words, he wasn’t moving, wasn’t letting her go. She knew why. They stood breast to chest, thigh to thigh. Warmth radiated between them.

“It’s nice,” he said suddenly.

She thought the moment was wonderful. But possibly they weren’t thinking about the same thing. “What is?”

“Your perfume. I never smelled it before.”

He’d never been this close before. Every morning she dabbed a touch of perfume behind her ears to make her feel feminine while wearing scrubs. With the turn of his head, his breath heated her face. Even in the dark, she knew his mouth was closer to hers. Or was she imagining everything?

Lightly his lips brushed hers like a subtle caress.

Oh, Lord. She wasn’t imagining anything. Her eyes fluttered, her lips parted for his. Slowly, almost savoringly he deepened the pressure. Gently his lips moved over hers. Wanting to feel more, she leaned closer, pressed her breasts into him to absorb the heat, the solidness of his body.

His kiss was everything she’d imagined. No. It was more. A long, pleasurable shiver swept through her. Eyes closed, she savored the sweet firmness of his mouth, the beat of his heart, the warmth of his body. With a kiss, he was making her feel more than she’d expected. In that instant, she knew this wouldn’t be enough. She’d want more with him. Much more.

As she clung, he seemed to loosen his embrace. A touch dazed, she took a moment before she realized that he was pulling back. Why was he? Don’t stop. Keep kissing me.

“Damn,” he murmured in a voice that sounded huskier than usual.

Lara forced herself to open her eyes, heard his pager then. Kiss me again, she wanted to yell.

Chapter Three

D erek groped for the pager hooked on his belt and swore silently for a lot of reasons, including a need unfulfilled. One second more, and he’d have forgotten where they were.

Beneath the mantle of darkness, he peered at her face, at the hooded eyes, the soft mouth slightly parted. Her breath fluttered on his face and made him yearn for the sweetness of her mouth. Her scent stirred his senses. A heaviness still filled his loins.

In the dark he squinted to read the number on his pager. His emergency number meant Lindsey Collier was ready to deliver. She’d been admitted to the hospital yesterday for her safety and that of her quadruplets.

“The hospital?” Lara asked.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” Now. Urgency controlled him. He hated feeling so helpless about their situation. People claimed he was a control freak. He took no offense. In the operating room, he wanted to be in command. Lives depended on his leadership, skill and discipline.

“It’s Lindsey Collier, isn’t it?” Lara asked in the dark.

“Yes.” It took effort to think clearly. Even now he touched her arm and visualized the creamy softness of her breasts.

“Dr. Cross!” Frank’s voice sounded loud. Derek assumed he was crouched close to the elevator door. “Maintenance is here, working on the problem. Can you hear me?”

“I hear you. We need to get out now.” He still felt the tug-of-war inside him. Emotional overload, he assured himself. “I have an emergency.”

“A few minutes, Dr. Cross. We’ll—” Frank stopped. No more words were needed. The light flashed on in the elevator. They heard a creak, a groan, then the elevator jerked and moved. Within seconds the doors swooshed open.

“Thanks, Frank.” With a nod to the security man, he cupped a hand under Lara’s elbow to urge her out of the elevator. A test of sorts to see if he could touch her casually.

“The storm knocked out power. We got everything running but the elevators. Sorry, Dr. Cross. We didn’t know anyone was still in the building.”

“No problem,” Derek assured both men. Except he almost made a move on his nurse, except she made him hungry. He knew about her crush. He’d have had to be dumb not to have noticed her unusual nervousness whenever they were alone. Only a jerk pursued a woman who wanted everything that he could never offer. “Lara, I have to get over to Lennox Hill.”

“I’m going with you to the hospital,” she said, falling in step with him toward the stairs.

Another nurse would have gone home. He liked her caring way that went beyond what was expected. “Lindsey Collier will like seeing you,” he said honestly because her bright disposition would help. If he only lusted for her, he knew that he could deal with it, but he liked her. Just thinking about her made him smile. How did he ignore that feeling?

Lennox Hill Hospital occupied a prominent place on the Upper East Side. Lara stood outside one of the labor rooms at the nurses’ station. One by one the newborns were wheeled out of the room and down to the nursery. In blue scrubs, his mask hanging at his throat, Derek wandered down to the nursery.

Donning a mask, Lara followed him. “RDS?” she asked when Derek was listening to one of the baby’s lungs with his stethoscope. The respiratory distress syndrome was sometimes a common complication for a baby born preterm.

“No, he sounds good. He’ll need an oxygen hood for a while.”

She released a big sigh.

“Who’s the pediatrician on record, Lara?”

She made herself meet his gaze. Trapped by it, she felt her pulse quicken. “Dr. Bryman.”

“He’s good.” He straightened, looked so tired but smiled at her. With a look, he skittered sensation through her. “When is he supposed to show up?”

“His service said he was on his way,” she answered, striving for an all-business tone.

“How are the Halverson triplets doing?” He ambled toward one of the cribs containing a newborn who was wearing a pink cap.

“Wonderful.” Lara knew what he was doing. He was stalling, checking on the others while he waited for Dennis Bryman to arrive. “I’ll say good-night, then.” They’d been too busy for either of them to mention the near kiss. But she knew she wouldn’t.

At the elevator she looked back. His deep-set eyes locked on her again. Her heart beat harder. Was he remembering the kiss? She hoped so.

Derek figured fate had taken control, thrown him and Lara together last night. If they hadn’t been stuck in the elevator, he wouldn’t have kissed her.

“It’s not too hot to go, is it, Daddy?” Joey asked, grabbing his attention.

It was miserable outside. New York was caught in an unbearable heat wave. High temperatures had hung around for days. Humidity burdened the air. “To go where?” he asked, trying not to think about Lara. He poured cereal, then milk into a bowl for his son.

Joey pushed several of the chocolate, doughnut-shaped cereal pieces around in the milk. “The zoo.”

“That’s up to Dorothy.” A widow in her midsixties, she was ample-figured with salt-and-pepper-colored hair and a dimpled smile. Unsure if the heat might bother her, he suggested. “Why don’t you wait until my day off, and I’ll take you then, Joey?”

Derek slapped a minimum of butter on a slice of toast. Could he rush his son? He’d been running late since he’d awakened. He felt out of step this morning. That was Lara’s fault. Inch by inch, tension had crept through his body during that kiss. He’d wanted to devour her. Why her? he wondered now.

The differences between them might be why he felt the attraction. They had different backgrounds, different outlooks. No, there was more. He liked her smile, the quickness of it. He liked her walk, the sound of her laughter and her conversations that went on nonstop sometimes.

“Daddy, Dorothy said we could go see that new movie. It’s really good. Everyone says so.”

Derek focused on them. “Everyone” probably meant Joey’s best friend, Austin and Rylyn, the femme fatale of kindergarten. “Okay. We’ll go to the zoo on my day off.” Derek drained the last of the coffee in his cup and left Joey and Dorothy talking about the movie.

In passing he shut the kitchen drawer and grinned. He’d never look at a turkey baster the same way again.

After a scheduled caesarian at the hospital, Derek strode toward the doctors’ lounge. He changed into a black polo shirt and charcoal-colored slacks, then grabbed a cup of coffee. He was draining the last of it when he heard footsteps behind him.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Rose’s gray eyes smiled at him, but he felt nothing for his ex-wife except affection for a good friend. Trim, at forty she still had All-American cheerleader looks.

“New hairstyle? It looks good.”

She settled on a chair across from him and threaded fingers through the light-brown hair cut to just below chin length. “Thank you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for days, but when I stopped by last night to pick up Joey for his sleepover with me, you weren’t home.”

“I was stuck in an elevator.”

Amusement danced in her eyes. “Be serious.”

“I am.”

“Alone?”

Why would she ask that? “What does that matter?”

“Were you alone?”

“No, my nurse and I left late and got stuck. And don’t make anything of it. I could have been stuck in there with the janitor.”

“Well, she’s certainly a lot more interesting.”

Unbelievably so. “Joey tells me you’re dating,” he said to distract her from more questions about him and Lara waiting for rescue in the elevator.

“No one you know.” A serious, almost worried look settled on her face. “Derek, I need to tell you something.”

Instinctively his stomach tightened. She wasn’t smiling.

“I’m leaving.”

He’d never liked surprises. He liked this one even less than most, he decided as she explained herself.

“To spend time at the Paris Institute will be a marvelous opportunity for me.”

He knew it must be or she wouldn’t go. “What about Joey?” he asked while he dealt with a mixture of emotions: pride, annoyance and disbelief.

“I’m not worried about him. You’re a wonderful father.”

“But you won’t be here when he needs you.”

She turned a sad look on him.

Don’t look at me like that. She didn’t have to say anything. He knew what she was thinking. Because he’d had a rotten childhood, he believed Joey might have one if she wasn’t around for a while.

He’d already broken a promise he’d made to himself when his son was born. He’d vowed Joey wouldn’t go through what he had as a child. So much for promises. He and Rose had divorced, shattered their son’s family.

“Derek, Joey is well adjusted. And this will be good for him in one way. He’ll only be living in one residence for a while.” Rose gave him a weak smile. “I’ll tell him when it’s almost time for me to leave.”

Joey deserved better than what they were giving him.

Derek couldn’t get that thought out of his head. He left the hospital and crossed the street. He had a three-o’clock appointment at Manhattan Multiples with a woman who’d recently received the news she was expecting three or maybe four babies.

Inside the center, he rode the elevator to the third floor. Rose would explain to Joey what was happening. A simplistic solution. Nothing was that simple. If Joey was upset, he’d come to Derek for answers. And children were resilient. At an early age hadn’t he learned how to handle disappointment?

“Dr. Cross, you have a call on line two,” the appointment clerk said as he strode by.

With a nod, he hurried into his office and grabbed the telephone from his desk. “Derek, it’s your father.”

Annoyance rose within him in a flash. What could his father possibly want?

“I’ll be in town for a few days. I thought we could meet.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m in Acapulco.”

He’d thought his father was in Europe with wife number four. Alone? Derek wanted to ask, but why bother? He’d never really known his father’s last wife.

“I’ll call you when I get in,” his father added before hanging up.

Brief, to the point. All of their conversations were the same. Why the stopover in New York? It had been years since they’d seen each other.

Even before his mother had died, he’d never known the love and affection from his parents that Lara felt from hers. Maybe that was why envy had fluttered inside him when she’d talked about her family. Dumb thinking, he decided. His family was Joey now. His son was all he needed.

The moment Lara entered the center, Josie and Carrie cornered her. “We have a plan.”

“For you,” Carrie said, pointing a finger at her.

Lara stopped at the front desk to scan the next hour’s appointments. Oh, great. “What plan?”

“For your problem. You know about—” Nearby footsteps silenced her.

Derek nodded his head in their direction, then settled at a counter nearby and scribbled notations on a patient’s chart. Few could decipher his chicken scratch. Lara numbered among those few.

Carrie whispered, “I’ve talked to several of the nurses who work at the center and the hospital and friends you have here. We’ve decided your problem is real.”

Lara slanted a look at Derek. She’d swear the edge of his lips had twitched in a grin at that announcement.

“So we’ll help.”

“Help?” Lara decided she’d better concentrate on Carrie. “Help how?” If standing on a street corner and wearing one of those signs that would advertise for a husband was part of their plan, she was refusing.

She was thankful Derek had chosen that moment to leave. He stood at the end of the hallway, talking to his ex-wife. Possibly he still had feelings for her. Perhaps that’s why he’d avoided involvement with other women.

“We’re all—”

“How many of you are there?” Lara asked Carrie.

“Eight. We’re going to hunt among friends—male friends—and our relatives to help you find your Mr. Right.”

“Wait—” What was she going to say? Don’t do this. Why? This was exactly what she needed if she was serious about having a baby. She’d depleted her own resources for an interesting man, someone she’d want to spend the rest of her life with. Because despite the urgency she felt about having children, she wouldn’t act impulsively. Mancinis married for keeps.

On the stairwell, they joined Allison Baker. “Eloise announced she’s going to throw a small fund-raiser this month for Manhattan Multiples.”

“I don’t understand how the mayor can even consider cutting funds to us,” Carrie said as they entered the staff lounge.

Lara agreed. The center provided prenatal care, counseling service, fertility specialists, day care, yoga classes and meditation for mothers-to-be. While Lara liked the mayor, she wondered if Bill Harper’s motives for making Eloise’s life miserable weren’t personal. She’d heard gossip that they had had a past. Lara didn’t know if that was true.

“I’d love to go to the fund-raiser,” Carrie said.

Josie shook her head. “I doubt we’d provide the kind of donations Eloise is looking for.”

“Too bad,” Carrie murmured. “It would be an excuse to buy a new black dress.”

Josie shrugged. “I don’t own one.”

“You look wonderful in what you do wear,” Lara said because Josie leaned toward denim everything.

Josie beamed back.

Inside the staff lounge, a crowd had gathered around a small television screen in a corner.

The mayor was being interviewed by a local news station reporter. A tall, lanky man with salt-and-pepper hair, Bill Harper had the bluest eyes Lara had ever seen. He smiled slowly. “If Eloise Vale really believes I’m doing this to her center for personal reasons, we need to talk. If she has the courage to face me,” he said smiling.

“Eloise won’t be pleased,” Allison said, suddenly, joining them. “That was as good as a dare.” Allison’s chin-length, auburn hair swung with the shake of her head. “I feel so badly for her.” People all over the city are poking fun at the feud between Eloise and the mayor.”

Lara stared at the television. The mayor and Eloise put on their happy faces for the public, but Lara couldn’t help wondering if there wasn’t more behind the feud.

After leaving them, Lara returned to the second floor and slipped a patient folder into the slot on the door outside an examining room, then strolled back to another room.

The mother-to-be wasn’t showing yet. Still slender, she offered a weak smile, though she looked pasty. “I’m told the nausea will pass soon.”

Lara touched her arm. “It will.”

While the woman wandered down a corridor toward an exit, Lara went into the examining room. She hadn’t expected to see Derek still there. She prayed for no awkward moments between them.

“She needs iron supplements,” he said without looking up from the sheet of paper before him. He yawned, then cast a grin her way.

“You’re tired?” Her voice wasn’t quite steady even to her own ears.

“Late delivery last night. I’m used to no sleep.”

To avoid meeting his eyes or seeing that grin, she stared at his hands, strong yet gentle. She’d seen them touch with care, caress a baby’s head, bring new life into this world. She’d felt their strength and tenderness. “You’d have more time if you didn’t spend so much time at Manhattan Multiples,” she said to focus on something else.

“So would you.”

Leaning back in the chair, he looked so comfortable with the moment between them. She wasn’t. An undercurrent of awareness rippled through her whenever she looked into those eyes. “The center is so vital to the community.” She wondered if he felt an inkling of anything when he looked at her. “I hate the idea that they might cut funds to it.” She believed a woman in a high-risk pregnancy with twins or higher-order multiples needed the special attention the multifaceted center offered.

“Too bad you and I can’t convince the powers that be.” He made another notation on the chart before him. “What’s new with the husband hunt?”

“You won’t believe what happened.” Get busy, quit staring at him, she told herself and turned away to pull at the used paper sheet on the examining table. “I can hardly believe what they’re doing. Carrie and Josie talked to friends of mine at the hospital.” Lara tore off the sheet, balled it and tossed it into a receptacle. “They’ve decided to help me find Mr. Right, fix me up with dates.”

His silence made her look up. “Is that okay with you?”

Don’t think about sneaky jolts of desire. “I think it’s really nice that they’re doing this.”

He frowned as if he didn’t think it sounded too wonderful.

She laughed to make light of the plan. “When Carrie said she knows someone who’s free tonight, I said yes before I chickened out. Her number-one candidate is a lawyer with the district attorney’s office. How can I turn them down? Maybe I’ll find Mr. Right with a little help from my friends.”

He didn’t return her smile. “Is that a traditional way your family would approve of?”

“Oh, sure. In Italy that’s all there used to be. Prearranged marriages.”

“When you first started here, I thought you were seeing someone.”

She was surprised that he knew that about her. “I was.” She’d wasted three years on James. “He was a stockbroker. We didn’t do well.” Like James, Derek came from a different world.

Pushing back from his desk, Derek stood and grabbed the patient’s chart. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” she said easily and truthfully. “He was all wrong for me.”

“It’s good you realized that before it was too late.”

As his breath whispered across her face, her throat went dry. “I didn’t.” She paused, took a breath to soothe her nerves. “He did.”

Unexpectedly he leaned forward, touched a strand of her hair near her cheek. The touch, though casual, was like a caress. “He was a fool.”

Sensation rippled through her. He had only to lower his head. Heart pounding, she told herself not to make too much of what might have been nothing more than a comforting gesture from him. Of course, it was more, she mused. Light, tender, it had felt like a caress. “We have one more appointment?” She made herself step back. “After, I’d like to leave right away for a date.” She started to turn away, but stopped herself. “You never mentioned the kiss.”

“Impulse,” he said simply. “Sorry.”

Was this his way of telling her the kiss had been a mistake?

“Have fun on the date.”

She frowned. “Thank you,” she said breezily to give the impression she was looking forward to the evening ahead. But she already wished it was over. The man she wanted to be with was standing right in front of her.

Chapter Four

T he date was terrible.

To relieve stress, Lara awoke early the next morning and stopped at a dance studio near her home. Though she’d given up her acting career, she’d never abandoned her practice routines because dancing was a love, a joy in her life. She stretched, warmed up, then rushed through a routine she’d seen in the movie Flashdance until she was breathless. After a cooling down period, she headed home to shower and dress for work at the center.

If only last night’s date, Zack Benner, had quickened her pulse. What she wanted most was to find someone special to build a life with, to raise children with, to love. Zack was not that man.

So who was she looking for? She didn’t expect the man to be perfect. Handsome would be nice, but just attractive would do. She’d known a male model who couldn’t pass a store window without stopping to preen.

She would like someone with a nice sense of humor, who laughed at himself, who was amused by small things in everyday life. But she’d never been keen about a practical joker.

She wouldn’t turn away from a charmer, someone who sent flowers, took her to romantic candlelit restaurants, but she’d favor more someone who was steady and responsible and paid the bills.

Derek fit her idea of perfect. He was drop-dead gorgeous, had a wonderful sense of humor, possessed all of the social graces and had money, to boot. He even thrilled her with a look.

Nearly at the entrance doors of Manhattan Multiples, Lara slowed her pace in response to the ring of her cell phone. Before saying hello, she’d guessed who was calling. Only her family tracked her down before eight-thirty in the morning.

Her sister Angela rushed a quick, airy hello, one that put Lara on the defensive instinctively. Angie’s previous matchmaking efforts had been disastrous. “I called to learn if you bought a new dress for Danny’s wedding,” she said.

Lara didn’t dare admit that she’d forgotten about her cousin’s wedding. “Not yet.” More important to her was who she’d take with her. “How is the baby?” she asked as she left the elevator.

“That tooth came through this morning.”

“Oh, how wonderful. How many does that make?” Lara asked and paused next to the nurses’ station to finish the conversation.

“Six. He has six. He bit Tom yesterday. What does your doctor say about biting?”

“My doctor isn’t a children’s doctor.” She resumed walking toward the staff lounge. “He’s an ob/gyn.”

“That’s right. Why do I keep forgetting that?”

Because it’s your way of mentioning him.

“I couldn’t believe how handsome he is.”

Lara remembered. Her sister had sat gaping when Derek had walked by their table during one of their sisterly lunches. “I know.” Lara tucked her shoulder bag into a locker. “You told me.”

“And he’s still unattached?”

“Still unattached.”

“Lara, I’d be happy to cook lasagna or my chicken primavera or anything you’d want. You could invite him here for dinner and—”

“Angie, thanks but no.” She left the staff lounge. “He’s not interested.”

“In you? Is he blind? Why wouldn’t he be interested in you?”

“In anyone here,” Lara said, hoping that would end the conversation.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so right away?”

Lara knew she was getting the wrong idea, but it was easier to say nothing. “I have to go now. I’ll call you later this week,” she said at Carrie’s approach.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Carrie asked in a loud whispery voice.

“Tell you what?”

“That you were stuck in the elevator with him.”

Mentally Lara groaned.

“Everyone is talking about it.”

“When the lights went out,” Lara said with a casualness she didn’t feel, “it was a little creepy for a while.”

Carrie smiled. “The lights went out?”

This was getting worse. “Carrie—”

“I’m teasing,” she said with a laugh. “How was the date? Did you like Zack? Isn’t he great looking?”

And dumb, Lara mused. “Is he really an attorney?”

Carrie squinched her nose. “He hasn’t passed the bar exam yet. That’s really difficult, you know. But he does work as a document clerk at the district attorney’s office. What did you think of him?”

“Interesting,” she said noncommittally. To avoid more talk about him, she waved goodbye on her way to the door, then hurried forward to usher a patient into an examining room.

At Lara’s announcement that Derek wasn’t there and another obstetrician would see her, the woman frowned, but a tease colored her voice. “Dr. Cross isn’t supposed to have days off.”

I miss him, too. Lara kept the thought to herself, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him during the next few hours. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget those moments with him. And then what about yesterday? Why had he touched her? Perhaps she was making too much of a gesture that meant nothing to him.

She returned to her station off the hall of examining rooms. Taking a seat behind the counter, she spotted a lab test Derek was waiting for and pushed buttons to print the results.

“Hello, Lara.”

Looking up, she smiled at Derek’s ex-wife. “Hello, Dr. Clayson.”

In her early forties, she appeared younger because of a faint sprinkle of freckles across her nose. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Are you working more hours at the hospital?”

“No, I’ve been here.” Though staff had scheduled hours, the doctors often were late or called back to the hospital because of emergencies.

“Congratulations, Rose,” another doctor called out as he passed by.

Something great must have happened to her. “I guess I should be congratulating you.” Lara sent her an apologetic look. “But I don’t know why.”

“It hasn’t been officially announced yet. I’ve been offered a position in Paris.” She mentioned a research facility known for ground-breaking accomplishments.

“That’s wonderful.”

“I’m quite excited.” As her name was called over the center’s paging system, she smiled. “Talk to you again.”

What had Derek thought about the news? Lara wondered. Rose Clayson’s decision to leave the country had to affect him and Joey in a big way. Standing, she snatched up the printout and pivoted away from the computer.

“I hope that’s what I’m looking for,” Derek said suddenly behind her.

Lara leaned back against the counter to give him her full attention. If only he’d kiss her again. Then she’d know he’d really wanted to. “Isn’t this your day off?”

“We detoured from our trip to the zoo.”

She noticed now he was dressed in jeans and a white polo shirt. Her gaze shifted to Joey, standing beside him.

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