Dear Reader,

If you liked You’re What?!, you’ll love The Pregnant Virgin!

So many of you wrote requesting encore appearances from some of your favorite characters in my first two books—notably, the matchmaking septuagenarians Millie and Hazel—that I thought it was time to invite them (and a few others) back.

At Midtown Hospital in Detroit, love is right under the noses of our hero and heroine, Dr. Brad Darling and Ali Celeste, but it takes a little nudge from Millie and Hazel to make them see it and later believe that they can overcome the obstacles that threaten to keep them apart. One of those obstacles is the fact that Ali visits a sperm bank and then turns up pregnant after telling the hero that she’s a virgin. Now, what man wouldn’t have his doubts?

I hope you enjoy this one. I had a lot of fun writing it.

As always, I love hearing from you and welcome your letters.

Warmest regards,

Anne Eames

You may write to Anne Eames c/o:

4217 Highland Road, Box #252

Waterford, MI 48328

For a response and an autographed doorknob hanger,

please include a #10 self-addressed stamped envelope.

Dear Reader,

Spring is in the air…and so is romance. Especially at Silhouette, where we’re celebrating our 20th anniversary throughout 2000! And Silhouette Desire promises you six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories every month.

Fabulous Anne McAllister offers an irresistible MAN OF THE MONTH with A Cowboy’s Secret. A rugged cowboy fears his darkest secret will separate him from the beauty he loves.

Bestselling author Leanne Banks continues her exciting miniseries LONE STAR FAMILIES: THE LOGANS with a sexy bachelor doctor in The Doctor Wore Spurs. In A Whole Lot of Love, Justine Davis tells the emotional story of a full-figured woman feeling worthy of love for the first time.

Kathryn Jensen returns to Desire with another wonderful fairy-tale romance, The Earl Takes a Bride. THE BABY BANK, a brand-new theme promotion in Desire in which love is found through sperm bank babies, debuts with The Pregnant Virgin by Anne Eames. And be sure to enjoy another BRIDAL BID story, which continues with Carol Devine’s Marriage for Sale, in which the hero “buys” the heroine at auction.

We hope you plan to usher in the spring season with all six of these supersensual romances, only from Silhouette Desire!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

The Pregnant Virgin
Anne Eames

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my newfound family—

Lynne, Ken, Barbara and Keri—

who made me feel right at home.

ANNE EAMES

has been a Golden Heart finalist and Maggie winner, and her books have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. This is her eighth novel for Desire.

Anne and her husband, Bill, live in southeastern Michigan with their pampered pooch, Punkin.

You may write to Anne Eames at: 4217 Highland Road, Box #252, Waterford, MI 48328. For an autographed doorknob hanger, please enclose a #10, self-addressed, stamped envelope.

Contents

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

One

“You’re what!”

“I’m going to have a baby,” Ali Celeste repeated, enjoying the shocked expression on her sister Lynne’s face.

“But how did—I mean…I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend!” Lynne looked as though she might hyperventilate at any second, so Ali put an end to the ruse.

“I said ‘I’m going to.’ I didn’t say I am.” She ate the last of her salad and pushed her plate aside.

Lynne leaned back in her chair, tapped her fingers against her chest and scanned the crowded cafeteria of Detroit’s Midtown Hospital. Probably checking for eavesdroppers, Ali thought, unable to keep her smile in check.

“It’s not funny,” Lynne said, trying to sound annoyed, but her smile betrayed her. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Why’s that?” As if she didn’t know.

“Pregnant out of wedlock? Mom would roll over in her grave.”

Ali laughed at her sister’s choice of words. “Wedlock? Sounds like something out of the Middle Ages.”

Lynne looked from side to side before she spoke. “Yeah, well, the principle still applies.” She punctuated her point by pushing the last bite of sandwich into her mouth and shooting Ali her best frustrated-big-sister glare.

Ali averted her gaze to the novel sitting next to her plate and waited for Lynne to calm down. If only she could find a hero like the ones in her books. She sighed and wondered if she would have time to read a few more pages before her lunch hour was over.

Lynne tossed her napkin down and leaned her elbows on the table. “I thought you told me you were determined to be a virgin for Mr. Right.”

“Yep. That’s still the plan.”

Looking more confused than ever, Lynne asked, “What are you up to, Alexis Marie?”

“Well, you know I work at the fertility clinic…”

“Of course, but what’s—” Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew round. “No! You don’t mean…”

“Why not? Maybe I can get some free samples.” She knew this wasn’t the case, but she was having too much fun teasing her sister.

“Get serious, Ali. Why would you want to use a sperm bank? You’re still in your twenties.”

“Not for as long as I’d like. And next month I can chalk up another year.”

“Is that what this is all about? Birthday blues?”

Ali shook her head. “I never would have guessed I’d be this old and not even engaged. And don’t give me that ‘you’re just a baby’ look.”

“But you are. You have lots of time left.”

Did she? She used to think so. She stared at the blue painted ductwork overhead, and in her mind’s eye years of fantasies paraded by—images of a strong yet sensitive man sweeping her off her feet. Not taking care of her, she reminded herself. Completing her was more like it. She could almost see his face, at least his eyes. They were always intense, sincere. And oh, so full of love for her.

She glanced back at the cover model on her book.

Ah, yes. Just like that.

She mentally shook off the image and faced her sister again. “No offense, sis, but you and Ken thought you had a lot of time and look how long it took you to conceive.” Ali leaned forward, deciding it was time to make her case. She didn’t need her sister’s approval, yet the months to come would be much easier if she could make Lynne understand.

“Lynne, you were nearly forty when you finally got pregnant. Remember the years of anxiety you went through, not to mention a chunk of money for treatments?”

Lynne nodded reluctantly. “How can I forget? If it weren’t for Mom’s estate I’d still be paying off loans…not that I’m complaining. Little Keri is worth every penny.”

“I agree.” She picked up her iced tea and pictured her two-year-old niece’s kissable cheeks and smiled. If she loved Keri this much, how would she feel about a child of her own? As far back as she could remember she had delighted in playing with little ones.

No, there was no doubt in her mind that she was doing the right thing. She’d be a fool to wait for some fantasy man with dreamy eyes. Besides, what were the odds she would ever find one?

She set her glass down decidedly. It was time to take matters into her own hands, and she could sense her sister was weakening.

“Let’s not forget Barbara. She wasn’t as fortunate as you. Little Timmy is adorable and as loved as any child, but we both know adoption was her last resort when all else failed.”

Lynne reached across the table for Ali’s hand. “Sweetie, just because we had trouble doesn’t mean you will.”

“True. But I don’t want to wait until the eleventh hour to find out. Besides, I haven’t met a decent guy in over a year. In a blink of an eye I’ll be thirty and still telling jerks to take a hike. Please, will you try to understand? I’d really like your support on this.” Ali held her sister’s gaze, hoping to telegraph just how serious she was about her decision.

Lynne squeezed Ali’s hand, then on a long sigh, she let go and nodded slowly. “I can see you’ve made up your mind, so if it’s my blessing you’re looking for, you’ve got it.”

It was all Ali could do not to let out a hoot and rush around the table to hug her sister. “Thanks, Lynne. It means a lot to me.” She slouched in her chair, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

“Whew! I’m sure glad that’s out in the open.” She fanned a napkin across her face. “Now, what do you think Barbara will say?”

“Probably the same as I did. She’ll put up a fuss before she acquiesces. Neither one of us has ever been able to say no to you, baby sister, and you know that.”

Baby sister—that was the problem. At times she even wondered if her overpowering desire to have a child of her own was so everyone would stop viewing her this way. They always thought of her as a baby, even though she’d lived on her own for seven years now and had done all right for herself. Except in the men department. They were still an enigma.

She drank more tea and decided it was time for a new subject.

“Speaking of Barbara, any word about Tom’s transfer back to Detroit?”

“She’d hoped before Christmas, but last time we talked she said it looked more like spring. I hope nothing slows things up again. We were kinda counting on doing some sort of job share. Something where I’d keep the little ones every other week while she worked and vice versa.”

Maybe they could help with her little one, too, Ali thought. She would need reliable child care if she decided to return to work later. Fortunately her inheritance gave her the option.

Lynne glanced around the room, then leaned closer and whispered, “Have you even bothered to look around this hospital? Look at all the good-looking young men in this room alone. They can’t all be married or undesirables.”

Ali sighed, frustrated that “The Search,” as it had come to be called, was again the topic of discussion. Reluctantly she scanned the area, not paying close attention. Good looks didn’t mean much to her, anyway. And if the guy happened to be a doctor, there was a good chance he had a God complex. Experience had proven that point. If he was good-looking, too, forget it. He would probably have an ego the size of Saturn.

But Lynne had different ideas.

“Check out the tall, blond guy in the middle booth.”

With a roll of her eyes, Ali looked. “He’s got to be six-five if he’s an inch. Just what I need. Someone fifteen inches taller than me. I get a stiff neck thinking about it.”

“Okay,” Lynne said, not sounding deterred. “What about the studious one in the corner…the one with the wire-rimmed glasses?”

“He’s gay.”

“Really?”

“No.” She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe he is.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Look, kiddo, do you think we could drop The Search…at least for today?” Lynne crossed her arms, resignation not being her strong suit, and Ali changed the subject. “Are you and Ken going to the Michigan-Michigan State game this weekend?”

Lynne shook her head slowly, looking somewhat annoyed. “Ken has to work. Wanna go?”

“Are you serious?” The game was one of the biggest rivalries of the football season and the weatherman predicted temperatures in the eighties, unusual for mid-September in Michigan. “You bet I do…assuming you won’t try fixing me up with some guy in the stands. Especially if he’s a doctor.”

“This is still about Dad, isn’t it? Come on, Ali. Let it go. So he was a jerk who just happened to be a doctor. That doesn’t make them all bad.”

“I might have agreed with you if I hadn’t worked for that obnoxious group of surgeons at my last job.” At least at her current job, doctor contact was minimal.

“Got a postcard from Dad last month,” Lynne went on. “He and Tinkerbell are in Tahiti.”

Ali was surprised he was still with his toy bride. When he left her mom more than a dozen years ago for someone younger than Barbara and Lynne, Ali was sure it wouldn’t last. It must be his money, she decided.

As young as Ali had been at the time, she could still remember how often her father had said this or that patient needed him, that he had to work late. While all along he was…

Poor Mom. Ali wondered again if Mom would be alive today if Dad hadn’t broken her heart. She shivered and hugged herself.

“Doctors are the scum of the earth,” she said, more for her own benefit than her sister’s. “A necessary evil, maybe, but I wouldn’t trust one any farther than I could throw him.”

Lynne shot Ali a derisive look before searching the room one last time. “Ooh, ooh. Table at four o’clock, just sitting down.”

Ali turned slowly, prepared for another glib remark…until she spotted him. Even in green scrubs his body looked hard and fit, well-worked muscles peeking from beneath short sleeves. Handsome didn’t quite describe him. Yet the singular feature that held her attention was his eyes—so blue that even at a distance she couldn’t miss them. He brushed a stray lock of jet-black hair off his forehead, then opened a napkin across his lap.

She was still watching when a second man joined the table. He said something as he sat down and the first man laughed aloud, dimples showing on either side of his drop-dead gorgeous smile.

“Well, well,” Lynne said, bringing Ali’s attention back to their own table. “You’re not immune, after all.” Then she chuckled. “Honestly, Ali, if you could see yourself. Sometimes I think you read too many of those romance novels.” She pointed to Ali’s book. “I can’t tell you how many times I catch you with this faraway dreamy look on your face.”

Ali hid behind her iced tea, feeling heat travel up her neck. What was the matter with her? Sitting here gawking at a total stranger. She set the glass down and said, “So…what’s new with my favorite niece? Tell me everything.”

Lynne smiled smugly before answering the question.

Ali knew she’d dodged a bullet this time, but she also knew that sooner or later The Search would crop up again.

“You’re what!”

“Keep your voice down.” Brad Darling glanced around the cafeteria, grateful no one seemed to have noticed his friend’s overreaction.

“You heard me right.” He pushed the stubborn stray hair off his forehead a second time.

“But why would you do…that?” Craig talked around the side of his juice glass as if he feared a lipreader at the next table.

Brad chuckled softly. “Because it’s quick, easy, and pays really well, that’s why. We weren’t all born with a silver spoon in our mouth like you, Craig.”

“How many times have you…done it?” Craig asked. “For science, I mean,” he added with a rueful smile.

“Actually, today will be my first. There’s a fertility clinic in the professional wing next door. I’m going as soon as I finish this sandwich.” He took a healthy bite and wondered if he’d been wise to confide in his friend. Confidentiality didn’t concern him, yet the questions were bound to come. And they did.

“Aren’t you afraid someone will recognize you?”

“For Pete’s sake,” he said, wiping his face with a napkin. “You make it sound like I’m about to commit adultery.”

“But you’ve got a reputation to maintain. You are a doctor—”

“Just barely.”

“Okay, so we’re lowly residents. Still—”

“Look, I’m sure as hell not going over there wearing scrubs or a white jacket with my name on the breast pocket. I’ll change first, go outside, then come in the separate entrance to the clinic. If someone sees me—” he shrugged “—they see me. But I don’t plan to advertise.”

Craig laughed. “Good thing. I can hear the jokes already. ‘Did ya hear about Brad’s trips to the sperm bank? Yeah, I hear he’s making money hand over fist’.”

“Very funny,” Brad said, taking the last bite of his corned beef on rye before standing. “I gotta run. Catch ya later.”

“I’d say ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’ but—”

“I won’t,” Brad said, picking up his tray. “Since I’m getting paid for it.” He left Craig laughing and shaking his head as he strode out.

Brad wished he felt as self-assured and laid-back about the subject as he sounded. In truth, his sandwich was lodged in his chest and he could feel beads of perspiration forming on his brow. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d made out.

Craig was right about one thing, though. The hospital grapevine would eat this one up if it got wind of it. He’d just have to be careful and make sure no one saw him.

Two

It was ten to one when Ali tossed her purse into her desk drawer and eagerly opened her novel. She tucked the book safely from view behind the tall countertop and continued where she had left off.

She knew tonight would be the night. A fire crackled in the open hearth; candles flickered on every surface. He lifted his champagne flute to hers.

“To the love of my life,” he said, his eyes burning as bright as the fire, his gaze so intense she felt weak with love and desire.

He set his glass down and took her in his arms, his eyes riveted on her mouth, his lips inching closer until—

“Darling,” Ali heard, still in a daze.

“Yes-ss,” she drawled, her eyes hooded as she slowly lifted her head.

“Brad Darling? I have an appointment?”

Ali stared at the handsome face, stunned for a moment to see the one and same man she’d been ogling in the cafeteria.

“Y-yes. Of course,” she said, slamming her book closed and reaching for the top folder on the stack next to her. But when she glanced up again he flashed her his toothy smile and she could have sworn the air conditioning had stopped working.

Quickly she looked away and skimmed the contents of his file. “I see you’ve done all the preliminary work. Looks like everything’s in order.” Keeping her head down, she opened her appointment book. “How often do you plan to come?”

“Excuse me?”

“Once a week? Once a month?”

“Oh.”

She heard him exhale and she thought he must be nervous. Not unusual. Especially for first-timers.

“Uh—” he tapped on the counter “—let’s say once a week.”

Eyes still down, she asked, “Is this day and time good for you?”

“Yes, yes. Fine.”

“If you’ll have a seat, someone will be with you shortly.”

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he passed her desk. His jeans were worn and tight, and she decided she liked this look better than the scrubs, although both packages were spectacular.

Damn. Why was she playing this game? After all, she was critical of guys who leered after women simply for their looks. Besides, she would never go out with someone who worked at the hospital. Especially not a doctor who probably thought he was God.

Aha! Now it all made sense. He was here in hopes of making little Gods—his contribution to mankind.

She pushed out of her chair and stuck the folder labeled “Darling, Brad” in the rack beside the closed door, admonishing herself for such shallow musings. Hopefully the technician would come out soon and usher the guy away.

But for some reason there was a delay and she heard Doctor Boy approach a while later. He stopped at the side of her desk and flashed her his Brad Pitt dimpled smile.

“Sorry to bother you. Any idea how much longer? I have to get back to work.”

If his hair was blond he could double for her favorite actor, she mused, his question taking a beat to register. “Um…let me go find out what the holdup is.” She stood, but he didn’t back up, giving her little room to navigate. She stared at a dark tuft of chest hair peeking above the second button of his light blue shirt and waited for him to move. He stood there riveted and she let her eyes drift up to his.

Big mistake.

Too blue. Too intense.

The door to the back opened and they both turned toward it.

“Darling?” the technician asked.

“Yes,” he said, then smiled at Ali one last time before he walked away.

Ali heaved a sigh and sat down. The book caught her eye, and she immediately grabbed it and opened the desk drawer. With one last look at the bare-chested hero on the cover, she shoved it into her purse. Maybe her sister had been right. At the very least, this wasn’t the best place to read a romance novel.

Fortunately the phone rang, then other clients arrived, and Ali suddenly found herself very busy.

But when “Darling, Brad” sheepishly passed her desk a while later and headed for the exit, her gaze followed him.

And in that instant a seed of an idea began to take root.

Brad walked briskly around the exterior of the sprawling complex, muttering under his breath. What had gotten into him back there? Flirting with her like that. The last thing he needed was a personal relationship with someone who worked at the sperm bank he planned to visit every week.

Real discreet, guy. Real discreet.

He yanked open a back door and strode inside. So what if she’s a knockout and built like a brick—

Forget it. Forget her.

He picked up his pace to the lounge and his locker. She could be the star of “Baywatch” with a Mensa IQ and it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t have time for a social life. At least not until his residency was over, and even then he would be hard-pressed to foot the tab for dinner and a movie.

With no one in sight he quickly changed back into his aqua scrubs, trying not to dwell on how long it would take him to repay one hundred and twenty thousand dollars in student loans.

Still, as the day progressed, Brad’s worries about money were replaced by the image of the woman in the clinic. He would see a patient with blond hair and it would remind him of hers—long, thick and silky-looking. He wondered what it would feel like and how she would look with it mussed and falling in her face. Sometimes he’d catch himself and redirect his thoughts. Other times he’d simply smile and go with the flow.

When things slowed around midnight, he found an empty bed and settled in for a short nap. As usual the day had been long and grueling and he was beat. With a weary sigh he closed his eyes. And there she was again.

Ali called Michelle Singleton, a computer consultant who had helped her get the position at the clinic. She’d met Michelle at her previous job where the team of arrogant doctors had used Michelle’s services. When Michelle gave notice that she wouldn’t be working for them any longer, Ali asked Michelle’s help in getting her out, too. A close friendship had been developing ever since.

As luck would have it, Michelle was free for lunch and she agreed to meet Ali in the cafeteria.

Ali arrived a few minutes early and staked out the same table she’d used with her sister the day before, except this time she sat on the opposite side. She tried to lie to herself as to why she did this, but she knew the truth. People were creatures of habit. Maybe that handsome creature would sit at his same table, too, and this way she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to watch him.

Michelle placed her tray on the table a moment later and sat down. “How’s the new job going?”

“Great. I owe you one.”

The table behind Michelle remained empty and the women ate and made small talk until Ali finally worked up enough courage to broach the reason for getting together.

“There’s something personal I’d like to ask you, but if you’d rather not discuss it, I’ll understand.”

Michelle wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back. “I can’t imagine what would be so private, but fire away.”

“Your insemination,” Ali said, not beating around the bush. Michelle had confided her own trip to the clinic a few years ago. Now Ali wanted more details.

“Oh, that.” Michelle leaned forward and lowered her voice. “No problem. What do you want to know?”

Before Ali answered the question she said that her mind was made up to do it and that she’d already been to another clinic for a complete physical and work-up.

“Good idea. If I had to do it over I wouldn’t have used the hospital’s clinic, either. Too much breach of confidentiality risk.” Michelle whispered, “So this is why you were so interested in that job! Smart girl—learning all about things first. But do I detect a little reservation in your voice?”

“It’s going to sound silly—”

“No, go ahead.”

“The father. Didn’t it bother you that you didn’t even have a face or—” Brad Darling sat down at the table behind Michelle and Ali stopped midsentence.

“Yes, it did,” Michelle said.

Ali watched as he began to read a stack of papers he’d brought with him, apparently not noticing her. Ali ducked behind Michelle and picked up her water glass, wishing again that maintenance would do something about the air. It was stifling.

“—so that’s why I looked for a fantasy man.”

Ali looked at Michelle, hoping she hadn’t missed much. “Fantasy man?”

Michelle laughed and pushed away her plate. “It sounds pathetic, but every store I went into I looked at picture frames hoping to find just the right model’s face behind the glass—someone who could seem real to me—the kind of man I’d be attracted to and go out with if given the chance.”

“Did you ever find one?”

Michelle smiled. “Not in a picture frame. I met Kevin on a cruise—one that left the same day I was inseminated. And as they say, the rest is history.”

Ali peeked around Michelle and caught “Darling” Brad staring at her, those damnable blue eyes boring into her, and she felt a pink tinge travel up her neck. He didn’t smile or acknowledge her in any way. Maybe he was trying to remember where he’d seen her before. Or maybe he knew exactly where and that was the problem.

“Ali? Are you okay?”

“Uh…sure. Fine.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “Just off in la-la land. I do that sometimes.”

“Overactive imagination?”

“Something like that.”

“Was that all you wanted to ask me?”

Was there anything else? Only one thing came to mind.

“I don’t mean to sound like a wuss, but did it hurt?”

“More than I had anticipated, but not too bad…and it’s over rather fast. A lot faster than the other end of the process, believe me. I’m sure you’ll hear enough of those stories when your time comes.”

When her time came. Not if. Michelle believed it would happen. Ali hoped she was right and that her sisters’ problems wouldn’t plague her, too. Over Michelle’s shoulder she saw Blue Eyes leave the room, papers under his arm, empty tray in front of him. He had a confident yet not cocky gait, and again she noticed his narrow waist, long, lean legs and sinewy arms. And he had to be smarter than the average bear in his profession. Good genes, she thought. What more could she hope for?

“Do you have a time table in mind?”

He disappeared around the corner and Ali gave Michelle her full attention. She hadn’t even told her sisters this, but Michelle had been so forthright it seemed okay to do. Besides, she’d been dying to tell someone. Who better than a trusted friend who’d been there?

Still she felt herself blush when she said, “Actually…any day now.”

Michelle reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That’s wonderful, Ali. I wish you luck. I know this is a very private matter for you, but if you ever want to talk again, I’m more than willing to meet you anytime. Just call.”

“Thank you. I will.” It was good to talk with someone outside the family who didn’t see her as a child. Even though Michelle was closer to Lynne and Barbara’s ages, she had never treated Ali as anything other than a peer.

They walked slowly to the tray deposit area and Ali was tempted to tell Michelle more—how she thought she had found the perfect fantasy father. But in the end she decided some things were better kept to one’s self.

After work, in the privacy of her apartment, Ali went to her desk and found the long list of potential donors from the Midwest data bank. Retrieving her planner from her purse, she flipped to the memo section and read Brad’s file number that she had jotted down at work. With fingers trembling she scanned the donor pages, searching for the unique number. On page five she found it. Next to it read: five-foot ten inches, 175 pounds, blue eyes—oh, yes, very blue eyes, she remembered—and black hair. Field of work: medicine.

Before she could change her mind, she raced into the kitchen and dialed the cross-town clinic. When the secretary answered the phone, Ali read her selection in a shaky voice and said to expect her later in the week, probably Thursday or Friday. She was assured all would be ready and waiting.

But it wasn’t until Saturday morning, the day of the football game, that Ali discovered the time was right. She’d tested herself twice and come up with the same results both times: she was finally ovulating. Fortunately it was only 6:00 a.m. The clinic opened at seven. There was still time to make the game if she hurried. She called and said she was on her way.

Traffic was light as she drove I75 north to Royal Oak and she was making good time. Her stomach grumbled from lack of food, but there was no way she could eat. Her heart felt as though it were racing to keep up with the speedometer.

Finally she pulled into the clinic’s parking lot, took a few calming breaths and ran through everything again—family history of fertility problems, good men were hard to find, nothing wrong with wanting a face for the baby’s father. She lingered on the last one. Michelle had felt the same way, so this wasn’t unusual. And it wasn’t as if she planned to hold the guy up for child support or anything. She didn’t want a thing from him. Just a real person behind the sterile vial.

Lastly she thought about child care. She could ask her sisters for help if she wanted to return to work, or if she didn’t, thankfully the income from her wise investments was large enough so she could stay home and be a full-time mom. The latter sounded most appealing. She closed her eyes and imagined the soft skin of her baby’s cheek against her neck, the fresh scent of baby powder…and the beautiful sky-blue eyes of the father.

Yes, this was the right thing to do. Today was the day.

Three

Back in her bed midmorning, Ali wiped away another tear. All the way home she had cried. She was surprised there was anything left.

Everything had gone well. Too well. More like coldly efficient. Her hand circled her belly and she wondered what was going on in there. Maybe it had happened already. At the clinic they had warned her not to get her hopes up too high, that it often took a few tries. But they didn’t warn her that she might feel so blue. In spite of all the facts she had collected, this wasn’t how she had imagined things would happen.

Yes, she had wanted a baby, but always in her dreams there had been this wonderful man who adored her, who she loved with total abandon, whose arms would be wrapped tightly around her at a time like this.

She never felt so alone in her life.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon up the blue eyes, the dimpled smile. Only a vague blur, nothing in focus.

The phone on the nightstand rang. She let the machine pick it up. Then she heard Lynne’s voice and she rolled over and grabbed the receiver.

“I’m just leaving the house. Pick you up out front in about twenty minutes.” When Ali didn’t respond immediately, Lynne said, “Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Oh…just a little sleepy.”

“Well, go splash some cold water on your face and wake up. It’s a beautiful day out. Wear something lightweight.”

Ali replaced the receiver and gingerly lowered her legs to the floor. She knew she was being overly cautious, but she dreaded standing and walking around. She had a mad desire to stand on her head in the corner. She’d heard somewhere that it helped increase your chances.

Suddenly she laughed out loud at her weird musings. This was a day to celebrate, not to be maudlin. She’d been taking herself far too seriously and it was time that changed. She opened the closet bifolds and stared inside.

Lynne and the game would be a fun diversion…as long as she didn’t tell her sister about this morning. No, before she talked to her sister about things again, Ali would wait until there was real news.

She found a short-sleeved maize pullover with University of Michigan stitched in blue over the breast pocket. She changed quickly and after tucking her top into a pair of jeans, she stood in front of the dresser mirror, meeting her eyes head-on.

Did she look different somehow? She told herself no and raced for the elevator.

But as she stepped into the lobby and strode out the door she felt as though a neon sign hung over her head announcing to the world what she had just done.

With two minutes left in the first half, Michigan was ahead by ten points. Ali turned to Lynne and said, “Think I’ll head up to the concession stand before the line is too long. Can I bring you anything?”

“Hot dog with mustard and a diet Coke. Want me to come along?”

“Not unless you want to. I can manage.”

“I’ll stay here, then. Not in the mood to fight the crowd.”

Apparently others had had the same idea as Ali; when she approached the concession all the lines were at least twenty deep. She queued up and scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces. With attendance exceeding one hundred thousand at every game there were many times she would never see a person she knew. It looked as if today would be one of those days.

“Ali?”

She turned at the sound of her name. Just behind her in the next line she spotted Michelle. She stepped closer and the two women embraced.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Michelle said. “We could have driven together.”

“I’m with my sister Lynne. Is your husband here?”

“Somewhere in this chaos.”

“I’m glad he got some time off.”

“Well, he’s not totally off. He brought a couple of young doctors with him. He’s got his eye on one of them to sponsor as a surgical resident.”

The lines inched forward and they talked about the game and the beautiful weather, while all along Ali itched to tell Michelle about this morning. But the crowd had packed in tighter and there was no way their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. She had a fleeting vision of the whole area falling dead still at the exact moment she uttered something such as “sperm bank,” and she chuckled under her breath.

“If your sister isn’t in a rush to go home, why don’t the two of you join us for pizza after? We’re going to the State Street Grill. We like to eat first and avoid the worst of the traffic jam.”

“I’ll ask her. Thanks.”

Ali reached the head of the line and placed her order. Before she stepped away from the counter, Michelle said, “We’ll never find each other later, so why don’t you just come if you can. We’ll save two extra seats.”

“Okay. If we don’t show, let’s try for lunch early next week.” Michelle nodded and turned in the opposite direction.

When Ali sat next to Lynne, she told her about Michelle’s offer, and Lynne said it sounded like a good plan. They ate their hot dogs and only spilled half of their Cokes when Michigan scored again early in the third quarter. The band played another round of “Hail to the Victors,” and Ali and Lynne shouted out the lyrics along with the rest of the packed house.

It was just as far to the car as to the restaurant, so Ali and Lynne decided to walk. The sidewalks were teaming with fans, all regaling each other with highlights of another big win.

The excitement was infectious and Ali lifted her face to the sun and smiled. What a glorious day. Great weather, great game, great company. And most of all, she very well may have realized one of her life’s biggest dreams. Now she wondered why she had indulged in such a melancholy morning.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Lynne said just outside the restaurant.

“Oh, just enjoying this perfect day.” Lynne opened the door and Ali followed her inside. “Can’t wait for you to meet Michelle. I know you’ll like her.” And Ali couldn’t wait to meet Michelle’s husband. She’d heard so much about Kevin.

The room was elbow to elbow, televisions blasting replays of the game over the din of the crowd. In the back corner Ali spotted Michelle waving her arm and they inched their way through the press of bodies to the rectangular-shaped table along the wall. At one end of the table was a distinguished-looking man she assumed was Kevin. There was gray at his temples with smile lines at the corners of his eyes. His face was tanned, warm and very open. She could see why Michelle—

The two young doctors across from Michelle turned in unison and the air rushed out of Ali’s lungs.

Him! Oh, no. Not today.

Never one to be shy, Lynne had already slipped into the seat next to Michelle and was introducing herself, which meant there was only one seat left at the end of the table. Next to…him.

Michelle introduced her husband and the two young men, Craig and Brad. Ali smiled and choked out an appropriate response as she met each man’s eyes. But when she came to Brad she saw a hint of anxiety on his face, leaving her no doubt that he recalled exactly where they had first met. Thankfully her sister cut the awkward moment short.

“Ali tells me you two have twin preschoolers. That must keep you busy.”

Michelle looked at Kevin lovingly and then back to Lynne. “Yes, they do. But we’re lucky to have such wonderful sitters. Gives us a break now and then. Their grandmothers are probably spoiling them rotten this very moment.”

“Both of your mothers are at home with them?”

“Well, not exactly. My mother died before Abe and Abbie were born, and Kevin’s mom lives in Europe. We’ve sort of adopted a pair of elderly sisters as grandmothers.” Michelle laughed and took Kevin’s hand. “We met them on a cruise the same day we met each other, and they’ve been in our lives ever since.”

Kevin chuckled. “Millie and Hazel are quite the characters. They volunteer at the hospital. You’re bound to run into them someday.” He shook his head and chuckled again. “And believe me, you’ll know them when you do.”

Kevin and Michelle took turns telling about the relentless matchmaking efforts of the older sisters on their cruise, but Ali found it difficult to concentrate. She munched on pizza crust and stared straight ahead, feeling Brad’s eyes fixed on her. Mercifully the conversation drifted to work and he became engaged in a long discussion with Kevin. Finally she felt the tension ease.

With his face turned toward the other end of the table, Ali studied Brad’s pleasing profile. She loved how strands of unruly shiny hair fell across his forehead, giving him a relaxed, uninhibited look. And of course there were his eyes, every bit as powerful as she remembered. They were watching Kevin’s face now. Intense, thinking, processing, never drifting. She liked a person who kept eye contact while conversing. So many didn’t. She liked—

She liked everything she saw. And the nearness of him was driving her crazy. How absurd this whole thing was—her sitting here, acting calm, cool and collected, while at this very moment she may be carrying this man’s child.

Yet as absurd as it seemed, her imagination ran full steam ahead. She wondered if they might go out sometime…if he danced. If maybe—

If maybe she was crazy. She could hear it now. I’d like you to meet my date, Ali. She works at the sperm bank where I make donations.

The waiter came with the check and Kevin picked it up. Everyone had thanked him and they were finishing their drinks when Craig, who had been fairly quiet, looked at his watch. “Gee, it’s later than I thought.”

“Got a hot date waiting?” Brad teased.

“As a matter of fact, yes. But that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking it’s going to be dark before we get home.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the boogeyman.”

“Gee, thanks. But it’s your old lady I was thinking of.”

Ali felt everything inside her go rigid and cold. And Craig’s explanation to Kevin and Michelle did nothing to ease her disappointment.

“Sally will be sitting in the window watching for him when you drop him off. Just wait and see.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home.” Everyone laughed as they stood and gathered up their belongings. Everyone except Ali and Lynne, who was looking sympathetically at her sister.

Ali stood, feeling numb, and pushed in her chair. She hated men calling their wives “old lady.” It showed no respect. At the very least Brad could have corrected Craig by using a more endearing term. She sighed. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t what he’d called his wife that bothered her most. It was the fact that he had one.

She lagged behind the others as they made their way to the exit, not wanting anyone to see her face. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Why had she assumed he was single? The clinic certainly didn’t require it. She swallowed hard and told herself it shouldn’t matter that he was married. She had never planned to have a relationship with the donor anyway. He was strictly a face for the father.

Yet as everyone said their goodbyes and walked their separate ways she realized how much she had hoped for more.

“Wouldn’t you know?” Lynne said, stepping up the pace back to her car.

“What?”

“Brad. I was getting all excited for you, thinking maybe here was a good one. Then the ‘old lady’ remark. I’m feeling frustrated for you, sweetie.” She put her arm around Ali’s shoulder as they walked.

Ali shrugged, trying her best to seem unfazed. “Easy come, easy go.”

They got into the car and Ali found a classical radio station and reclined her seat-back. After twenty minutes of talking about little Keri, Lynne fell silent and Ali was relieved. She was tired of sounding lighthearted. She didn’t have to pretend with Lynne; she could have told her the truth about the source of her emotional pendulum today. But she felt too vulnerable to hear any reproach in her sister’s voice. Besides, she had her pride. If she gave voice to her sadness right now, it would be tantamount to admitting she’d made a mistake.

She hadn’t, she lectured herself. She would be a good mother and surround her baby with love and affection. That was what this morning was about. That was all it was about. If she had made any mistake, it was in letting her imagination run rampant with thoughts of Brad.

If only he’d remained a stranger. But sharing a meal with him, knowing each other on a first-name basis, having mutual friends…

No! She’d just have to put him out of her mind.

But after Lynne dropped her off and Ali was alone in her apartment, she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window facing the Detroit River and wondered if after today Brad would continue coming to the clinic. She wondered if his wife knew he was a donor. She wondered if he had been as uncomfortable tonight as she had. But most of all, she wondered what he was thinking now.

With Saturday night traffic slowing to a crawl just outside Greektown, Brad and Craig thanked the Singletons and said they would walk the rest of the way.

Brad lived closest, in a bare-bones, one-room walkup just off Monroe, a couple of blocks straight ahead and less than a mile from the hospital, which was convenient since he couldn’t always count on his old clunker of a car to start. Most days he preferred walking home, anyway, a chance to clear his head. It wasn’t always possible to leave work behind, especially when there were critical or terminal patients.

But today he’d been lucky. Morning rounds were uncomplicated; everyone was stable. He’d been able to enjoy the game and for once not worry. Everything had been perfect—the weather, the game, the company. Until after, when—

He shook his head and tried to clear thoughts of Ali from his mind. What a sick twist of fate that she would keep crossing his path this way. First at the clinic last Monday, which had provided him with enough stimulation to get the job done, and then later in the week in the cafeteria. It had been hard to take his eyes off her both times. Now again today. Each encounter with her added another layer of unwanted attraction.

“Hey, you got that stressed-out look on your face again. It’s Saturday night.” Craig punched his shoulder. “Lighten up, guy. Let’s go find us a party.”

“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“Negative. You?”

“Some of us have to keep the place going.”

They walked a ways without talking, stepping around slower moving pedestrians, and Brad thought he was home free. Craig hadn’t mentioned Ali once.

“So what did you think?”

Damn. “About what?”

“Ali, man. You do have a pulse, don’t you?”

Brad shrugged and hoped he looked unimpressed. “She’s okay, I guess. I don’t know. She didn’t have much to say.”

“Who cares? Did you look at her? I mean really look at her?” Craig let out a low wolf whistle. “The way that old alma mater lettering stretched across her breast pocket. I thought the stitching was going to pop any second. Wow. And what a face! That blond hair looked like it could be natural, too. And those eyes! Elizabeth Taylor, eat your heart out. I’ve never seen such violet eyes.”

Brad laughed in spite of himself. “Maybe you should ask her out.”

“Huh. I don’t think she knew I was there. She only had eyes for you, my man. Sad, but true.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I watched her watching you all through the meal. She barely ate, poor girl.”

“Give me a break.”

“I’m serious. She was really checking you out. So why don’t you ask her out?”

“Don’t even start.”

“What are you? Some kind of monk? I can’t remember the last time I saw you with a woman. Third year med school?”

Brad walked faster and ignored the question. They both remembered how that had worked out—an ambitious redhead with eyes on the brass ring.

“Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t give Ali a call.”

“I’m too busy.”

“Never stopped me. I work as many hours as you do.”

“Then I don’t have your energy.” Nor your money. A simple fact that Craig had never had to face. Dates cost. Still, he knew neither time nor money was the true reason to avoid Ali.

“Come on, man. Ya gotta have some fun.”

“I do. Today was fun.” Most of it.

Craig stopped at the intersection and faced him. “I could find out where she works. Maybe you could—”

“It isn’t going to happen, so forget it.” He turned away and eyed the traffic light impatiently.

Craig didn’t move when the light changed. “I detect there’s more to this story. Am I right?”

Brad stepped off the curb and Craig stopped him.

“Well? Am I?”

Brad let out a long breath and backed up onto the sidewalk. There was only one way to shut Craig up and that was to tell him the truth. “Okay. But I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.”’

“What? What?”

Brad leaned closer and whispered, “She works at the clinic.”

“What clinic?” Craig said loudly, catching the interest of a passing couple.

Brad gave him a bugged-eyed stare and a few seconds to figure it out.

“No! You don’t mean—”

Brad nodded, wishing this would be the end of the subject, but knowing sooner or later Craig would bring it up again.

Craig just stood there shaking his head, until finally he said, “Sure you don’t want to hang out with me tonight?”

“Positive.”

The light turned green again and they crossed the street. “What a waste,” Craig mumbled under his breath.

Brad wished he could disagree. But he couldn’t. It had been a long time since he’d been attracted to someone. All through dinner he had felt an undercurrent of something going on between them. And the one time he had accidentally brushed her leg under the table he’d felt his pulse quicken. The mere closeness of her had generated more heat than his rusted radiator on the coldest night. Strange. They had barely spoken to each other, yet—

Craig stopped in front of Trapper’s Alley. A few nurses from the hospital standing just inside saw him and came running out. Brad called good-night over his shoulder and kept walking, glad to be alone with his thoughts. If he was going to spend the evening debating what to do about Ali—

Wait a minute. What debate? Was there a choice?

Okay, maybe. In either case, he much preferred the quiet privacy of his Murphy bed to sort things out than on some ear-splitting dance floor.

He rounded the last corner to his building and had a sudden image of dancing with Ali. He could almost feel her—

A wino staggered out of an alley and Brad nearly knocked him down. After righting the guy, Brad apologized and went on, telling himself to get a grip.

Across the street, framed in the first-floor picture window, he saw his landlady rocking away, watching the world go by. When she spotted him she smiled a gap-toothed smile and waved a gnarled brown hand. Her door to the hall was open, so he called out to her as he climbed the stairs.

“Good night, Sally.”

“You in for the night?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled.

“That’s a good boy.”

The old lady could sometimes be a pain, but he knew she cared about her building and her tenants.

There was a lot to be said for that.

Four

At lunchtime on Monday Ali ate at her desk and in spite of earlier misgivings, read more of her novel, feeling envious of the heroine who had found the man of her dreams.

Man of her dreams.

Every time she closed her eyes these days there was only one man in Ali’s dreams. And he had an appointment here in fifteen minutes. She had half expected him to cancel, but now that the time had drawn near, it didn’t look as though he would.

She put her book away and rested her chin on her fist. He was married, she reminded herself, so there was no hope for a relationship. Still, she closed her eyes and remembered his perfect face smiling down at her. Ah…

She opened her eyes and nearly fell off her chair. Brad was leaning on the counter, smiling down at her. She blinked, trying to separate fact from fiction.

He was still there. And instantly she felt a pleasurable tension running through her.

“Sleeping on the job?” he asked, a playful tilt to his head. She looked at her watch, stalling for time.

“I was just…just—” Damn. This was so awkward. She had to stop all this fantasizing! At a loss for words, she simply said, “You’re early.”

“I know.” He looked around as if to be certain they were alone. “I was hoping we could talk a little.”

“About what?” That you’re married? Or that I might be pregnant with your child? Anxiety won out over pleasure as she wondered how she was going to face this man week after week.

“Well, first I wanted to thank you for not saying anything at dinner the other night.”

She told herself to relax. He was just being nice. “No problem. Besides, it’s nobody’s business.”

Suddenly he was the one to look ill at ease. “I don’t know why coming here is so embarrassing. I’m a doctor, for Pete’s sake. It’s just that…well, I was wondering if maybe you—”

Another client approached the counter and signed in. Then the phone rang and she mouthed “I’m sorry” before Brad shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward the chairs along the wall.

By the time she had finished the second call she heard someone moving behind her and swiveled in her seat. It was the technician looking for Brad’s folder. She walked over and handed it to him and he ushered Brad off.

It wasn’t until some time later, after he had left the clinic, that she remembered what he had started to say. I was wondering if maybe you—

If maybe what? You’d like me to father your child? Why, yes. That would be very nice, thank you.

Another client stopped at the counter and she wiped the smile off her face. She had to do something about this imagination of hers. It was going to get her into trouble someday. Maybe it was time she switched to horror fiction.

On Thursday, Ali stopped in the hospital gift shop to check out the new arrivals. They always had the cutest seasonal decorations and infant clothes. She was trying to decide whether she liked the papier-mâché ghost or witch the best when she glanced up and saw Brad in the next aisle.

He looked up and a warm smile lit his face. “Hi,” he said, looking sincerely glad to see her.

“Hi,” she said, praying he wouldn’t notice how very glad she was to see him.

He was holding a small pair of blue overalls that, after looking at the price tag, he put back on the rack.

She hadn’t even considered that he might have children. For some strange reason she’d hoped hers would be the first. He looked up at her again and she did her best to hide her thoughts.

“For your son?” she asked.

He laughed. “Oh, no. Not me. Just looking for a little something for one of my patients. Delivered my first baby today.” He beamed as if he were the proud father himself. “Eight pound healthy boy. Any suggestions?”

She didn’t know how much he wanted to spend and wasn’t comfortable asking, but since most residents she’d met were broke she pointed to a blue-trimmed terry bib with an attached pacifier. “This is usually a safe bet.”

He picked one up and said, “Great. Thanks.” Then, turning to face her, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Look, Ali…I’m not very good at this, but would you like to do something tomorrow night?”

She stared at him, not believing her ears. She’d been sitting right there after the game when he’d talked about his wife. What did he think she was?

She headed for the door, not even dignifying the question with an answer. “Excuse me. I have to get back to work.”

“Wait a minute.” He was right on her heels. “I know I’m out of practice, but what did I say wrong?”

She spun on him. “It’s not what you said. It’s what you left out.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Let me give you a clue. It starts with w-i and ends with f-e.” She started to turn, but he caught her elbow.

“You think I’m married?”

He was a good actor; she had to give him that.

“Pizza after the game? Your ‘old lady’ waiting for you at home?”

He let go of her arm and started to laugh. “You mean, Sally?”

“Yes, Sally.”

“She’s my sixty-five-year-old landlady. A very protective and dear lady who watches over me like a hawk, that’s all.”

She gave him a sidelong look, wanting to believe him, but afraid he’d soon dash the hope and excitement building behind her rib cage.

He drew an X over his heart and held up a palm. “Honest. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

Ali folded her arms and let a smile slip across her face. “What would you lie about?” His dimples reappeared and by the quickening of her pulse she knew she was in trouble. Big trouble.

“Nothing with you. I have a feeling I’d never get away with it.”

“Smart man.”

“So, what about it? I was thinking if the weather is nice we could take the People Mover down to Hart Plaza and listen to a little jazz, watch the freighters go up the river. You know…your basic cheap date.”

She was flirting with danger and she knew it. He was simply The Face, she reminded herself. It wouldn’t be wise—

“Sounds terrific. I’d love to.”

They firmed up the details and went their separate ways, with Ali doing her best to act as though this was no big deal. It wasn’t until she entered the next wing that she realized she was holding a witch in one hand and a ghost in the other, neither paid for. She raced back to the gift shop and made good on her purchases, then somehow got through the rest of the afternoon.

That night, though, she found herself obsessed with Friday’s date. She laid out half a dozen outfits on her bed, finally deciding on casual navy slacks and a two-piece powder-blue sweater set. She debated whether to wear these to work or to take them in a bag and change afterward, since he was meeting her there. Decisions, decisions. Now she knew why she didn’t date. It drove her crazy.

In the end she wore the outfit to work, but at quarter to five, with her stomach in knots, the phone rang and it was Brad.

“I’m really sorry, Ali. I’m going to have to ask for a rain check. There’s been a three car pileup on the Lodge Freeway. Serious injuries. I don’t know when I could get away.”

“I understand,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Unfortunately I’m on call the rest of the weekend.”

“Such is the life of a doctor.” She shrugged and remembered another doctor who often called and canceled.

“E.M.S. is just pulling up. Gotta run.”

She listened to the dial tone for a moment and then slowly replaced the receiver. What a fool she’d been to allow herself to get her hopes up. But she had no doubt he was telling the truth.

This time.

Yet memories of other times when she’d heard her mother crying into her pillow in the next room came back to haunt her. How many birthdays and anniversaries had her mother spent alone? And how many of Ali’s recitals and basketball games had her father missed? For that matter, how many had he ever made? She couldn’t remember a one.

She locked up her desk and left the clinic, feeling sadder but wiser.

Maybe Brad had fathered her child. Maybe. But it was best she remembered that doctors weren’t meant to be dads.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.