Dena shivered.

She had never before understood the attraction between her half sister and Alex. But now she saw that, far from being a chilly Chandler, Alex radiated concern and kindness.

And his unexpected tenderness made her want to…want to…kiss him.

She tore her mind away from the thought. Alex didn’t care about her. He simply wanted this baby. She was merely the vessel.

Closing her eyes, Dena visualized a tiny baby implanting itself inside her. The baby had Alex’s chiseled good looks and a little lock of blond hair. She smiled at the idea of a mini-Alex growing inside her.

But suddenly she wasn’t visualizing baby Alex anymore and was instead thinking about his father. Making love to her.

Dena’s eyes popped open. She was having a romantic fantasy about arctic Alex Chandler?

She must be certifiable!

Dear Reader,

I’m dreaming of summer vacations—of sitting by the beach, dangling my feet in a lake, walking on a mountain or curling up in a hammock. And in each vision, I have a Silhouette Romance novel, and I’m happy. Why don’t you grab a couple and join me? And in each book take a look at our Silhouette Makes You a Star contest!

We’ve got some terrific titles in store for you this month. Longtime favorite author Cathie Linz has developed some delightful stories with U.S. Marine heroes and Stranded with the Sergeant is appealing and fun. Cara Colter has the second of her THE WEDDING LEGACY titles for you. The Heiress Takes a Husband features a rich young woman who’s struggling to prove herself—and the handsome attorney who lends a hand.

Arlene James has written over fifty titles for Silhouette Books, and her expertise shows. So Dear to My Heart is a tender, original story of a woman finding happiness again. And Karen Rose Smith—another popular veteran—brings us Doctor in Demand, about a wounded man who’s healed by the love of a woman and her child.

And two newer authors round out the list! Melissa McClone’s His Band of Gold is an emotional realization of the power of love, and Sue Swift debuts in Silhouette Romance with His Baby, Her Heart, in which a woman agrees to fulfill her late sister’s dream of children. It’s an unusual and powerful story that is part of our THE BABY’S SECRET series.

Enjoy these stories, and make time to appreciate yourselves in your hectic lives! Have a wonderful summer.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

His Baby, Her Heart
Sue Swift

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For my parents,

Sheila and Sheldon Swift,

two extraordinary people

SUE SWIFT

A criminal defense attorney for twenty years, Sue Swift always sensed a creative wellspring bubbling inside her, but didn’t find her niche until attending a writing class with master teacher Bud Gardner. Within a short time, Sue realized her creative outlet was romance fiction. Since she began writing her first novel in November 1996, she’s sold two books and two short stories.

The 2001 president of the Sacramento Chapter of the Romance Writers of America, Sue credits the RWA, its many wonderful programs and the help of its experienced writers for her new career as a romance novelist. She also lectures to women’s and writers’ groups on various topics relating to the craft of writing.

Her hobbies are hiking, bodysurfing and kenpo karate, in which she’s earned a second-degree black belt. Sue and her real-live hero of a husband maintain homes in northern California and Maui, Hawaii. You may write to Sue at P.O. Box 241, Citrus Heights, CA 95611-0241. Or, you can contact her by visiting the author area of our Web site at www.MillsandBoon.co.uk.

Dear Reader,

This letter is about milestones—milestones on the road of life.

I’ve been lucky. All my milestones have been joyous ones: school graduations; the beautiful afternoon in Hawaii when my husband asked me to marry him; our wedding day.

In terms of personal accomplishments, few milestones compare with the day my editor phoned to tell me Silhouette wanted this book for their Romance line. I was delighted to join the Mills & Boon/Silhouette “family” of writers.

Some manuscripts represent months, even years, of struggle. The book you hold in your hands was a pleasure to create. The first draft was written in two months. The birth of Alex and Dena’s story was one of the shortest, happiest labors in history. Certainly His Baby, Her Heart came into the world more easily than did baby Tami, their child.

This book is about a very special baby.

This book, my first for Silhouette, is a very special baby.

I worked hard on His Baby, Her Heart and hope you enjoy the fruit of my labor.

Best wishes,

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

Epilogue

Prologue

“I, Tamara Cohen Chandler, being of sound mind…”

Alex Chandler sat, numbed to the last ritual accompanying his wife’s death. The presence of other family members in the wood-paneled law office receded to the back of his mind. He heard traffic outside the building bustling down Alhambra Boulevard, but the Sacramento rush hour seemed a thousand miles away.

“It is my dearest wish that my husband, Alexander Chandler, and my beloved half sister, Dena Cohen Randolph, cease the animosity between them.”

To Alex’s right, he could see Dena Randolph vainly brush at several dog hairs marring the sleeve of her black jacket. Alex tried to repress his disdain. Why couldn’t the woman ever make herself presentable?

He’d tried to hide his dislike for his sister-in-law from Tamara. Evidently he’d failed.

“I request that Dena act as surrogate mother and carry to term one of my embryos, fertilized by Alexander Chandler.”

“What?” Shock cracked Alex’s leaden wall of grief.

Dena jerked upright, as though zapped with a live cattle prod. “As if I don’t have enough problems already,” she murmured.

Alex reluctantly sympathized. With four-year-old twins and their disappearing father, Dena’s plate was full.

Her green eyes widened with bewilderment. “Did you know this was coming, Alex?”

He shook his head. “Tamara changed her will shortly after she was diagnosed. At the time, I didn’t know what she did, and I didn’t care. I was focused on her chemo, hoping she’d recover.” Alex frowned. He’d worshiped his wife, but knew that sweet, well-meaning Tamara had also been manipulative and very, very smart. What on earth had she planned? Why?

“Well, I…I can’t.” Dena placed a hand on her stomach, as if caressing an imaginary pregnancy. “I know Tamara wanted a baby, but…I just can’t bear a child and then walk away. Not even for Tami. Maybe you can find someone else, Alex.”

He breathed deeply, striving for calmness in the face of sudden chaos. He’d do anything to make his wife’s dreams a reality, however distasteful Dena Randolph might be. Why didn’t she feel the same commitment to Tamara’s memory?

“Further,” the attorney continued, “I bequeath my one-half ownership of said embryos to Dena Randolph with the specific instruction that only Dena be implanted with them.”

Dena went white, pale cheeks contrasting with her Titian-red hair. Alex couldn’t blame her. He felt faint himself. What had Tamara done? She’d snared them both. Now he and Dena owned the precious embryos.

“For medical costs, Dena’s support during the pregnancy, and for the support of the baby, I hereby provide the sum of three hundred thousand dollars, to be managed by Alexander Chandler.”

Dena blinked. Then blinked again, trying to reconnect with reality. Interiors by Tamara, her sister’s business, must have been lucrative. But Dena’s world revolved around her kids, not money.

She’d opened her mouth to turn it down flat when the attorney said, “In addition, I hereby bequeath the sum of two hundred thousand dollars to be held by Dena for the benefit of Miriam and Jackson Randolph, my beloved niece and nephew.”

Dena sagged in her chair. Tamara had known Dena would dig ditches with her teeth for her children, if necessary. But she wouldn’t have to, not with this generous bequest. The funds would pay for cars and college, maybe even help buy them homes, luxuries her small landscaping business could never support.

Tamara had adored the kids, so no strings were attached to the trust. But Dena’s conscience wouldn’t let her rest if she didn’t ponder her sister’s last request. How could she repay such generosity with a refusal to grant Tami’s dying wish?

Could she resist the money, which would provide so much for her sweet darlings?

Dena sucked in a deep breath, then peeked at Alex Chandler. With every blond hair in place, he sat rigidly, as if a poker had been shoved up his…

Yes, she could resist. Dena didn’t want Alex, the android accountant, in her life. Eyeing him, she hesitated. “I won’t have to sleep with you, will I?” She’d rather snuggle with a cyborg.

A glimmer of a smile twitched Alex’s set lips. “I don’t think so. Our fertilized embryos are stored at her gynecologist’s office. He defrosts them, implants a couple, and away we go.” He gestured, exposing a perfectly starched French cuff secured by onyx links.

Dena dropped her head into her hands, digging her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe it. What if one of us says no?”

“No baby, and Tamara loses her lifelong dream.”

“Oh, no,” Dena moaned. Tears burned behind lids already swollen from crying. She fumbled for a tissue. “Oh, Tami. Why me?”

Alex flicked imaginary lint from his immaculate, pinstriped sleeve. Not a shred of emotion showed on his too-handsome face. “You’re her half sister and, in her opinion, a great mother. She remarked often that she admired how easily you carried the twins.”

“That’s true. It was pretty easy, considering everything.” Considering that Dena had been dumped by her cheating ex-husband, for whom Lamaze was something a mouse ran through to get cheese. She winced. “But another child? I have my hands full already.”

“It wouldn’t be your child, Dena, but mine. Tamara trusted you to carry our baby to term and then give him up for me to raise.” Alex’s blue eyes gleamed, vivid and intense.

“I’m not a—a brood mare. I don’t know if I can have a child and give it up.” Dena couldn’t keep a tremble out of her voice.

“You have to,” Alex said. “This was your sister’s last wish. How can you say no?”

Chapter One

Six months later

On a chilly, bright March day, Alex sat in his attorney’s office, waiting for Dena Randolph. She was late—as usual. If Tamara hadn’t selected her half sister as their surrogate mother, Alex would have found someone more punctual.

Alex sipped stale coffee and tried to squelch his irritation. Had Dena shown up on time, the meeting would have concluded during his lunch hour. More than anything else, Alex wanted to go back to his office, bury himself in his work and forget how much he still missed Tamara.

Attorney Gary Kagan passed a sheaf of papers across his desk to Alex. “You can review the contract while we wait for Ms. Randolph.”

Alex skimmed the closely typed pages. He’d wanted a contract so Dena would understand her place in the scheme of things. Dena, interfering and bossy, had off-beat ideas about child-rearing.

And her kids…Alex grimaced. He loved his niece and nephew, but the four-year-olds always seemed to be sticky, dirty, lost or in trouble. They were hardly poster children for Dena’s parenting style.

Alex flipped through the pages. He saw everything he’d requested: the clauses stating what Dena had to do during the pregnancy, and what she couldn’t do after the baby was born—namely, have unsupervised contact with his child or control over it. Gary had taken several months to draft what looked like a complex document.

“What happens if she doesn’t sign it?” Alex asked.

Gary shrugged. “Both of you own the embryos, see? If she doesn’t sign it, you don’t cooperate. If you don’t cooperate, no baby, and Tamara’s dream dies right here.”

Alex frowned. “That’s rather blunt.”

“That’s life. Let me tell you—”

A loud pop interrupted Gary.

Alex’s body involuntarily jerked. “Hey, are there gangbangers around here?” he asked his attorney.

“Only at night.”

The chug of an overtaxed engine vibrated through the window. Alex cautiously scrambled over to the glass, then peeked through the pane.

Peering past a clipped hedge, he could see a battered yellow pickup, with fanciful vines and flowers painted on it in vivid rainbow colors. Dena’s Gardens was stenciled in purple on the door. Dena’s pickup backfired again as she reversed into a nearby parking space. Black smoke billowed from the muffler. Alex wondered if the pickup complied with California’s strict antismog laws. Probably not, knowing Dena.

He raised his brows. “Guess who.”

Gary joined Alex at the window. “She really ought to replace that old clunker pretty soon.”

“She’d better. I won’t have the mother of my child riding around in that piece of junk. It looks dangerous.”

The door of the truck squealed as Dena opened it. Hinges need oil or something, Alex thought. He kept some in the trunk of his car. He’d take care of that squeak before she left.

Alex watched Dena climb down from the cab of the truck. Her faded jeans had dirt ground into the knees. She wore heavy work boots. He winced.

Dena strode toward the building that housed the office of Alex’s attorney. The grind and clatter of her work boots on the pavement echoed her tripping heart.

She’d have this baby for her sister’s sake, but she wanted to avoid involvement with Alex Chandler. Unfortunately, the two goals were incompatible, thrusting her into a messy situation for at least nine months. More, actually, since after the baby’s birth, she couldn’t evade responsibility for the child and didn’t plan to try. She’d become an auntie, and in her mind, that implied a bond of love and trust that would tie everyone together…including Alex.

Dena sighed inwardly and wondered, for the umpteenth time, why her clever, talented sister had married Alex. Sure, he was good-looking, if you liked the icy, Nordic type. But Tamara, who’d been more beautiful than any Miss America, could have chosen anyone in the world for her mate.

Why Alex, the chilly Chandler? Lately he’d become even more remote, responding to phone calls curtly, if at all. Certain that he suffered over Tamara’s passing, Dena hadn’t pushed him out of his protective shell.

Dena yanked open the glass door of the brick-fronted building a little too hard. It whacked against a wall, but she ignored the bang in favor of her roiling thoughts.

What kind of a parent would Alex be? Unnerved, Dena stopped short in the middle of the carpeted lobby. She didn’t want her baby niece or nephew growing up into a Popsicle person like Alex.

She better make sure this kid had all the love every child deserved.

Dena straightened her shoulders, firmed her resolve and marched into Gary Kagan’s office. She forced a smile onto her face to disguise the determination in her heart.

When Dena entered, Alex, already irritated due to her lateness, couldn’t behave cordially to her no matter how hard he tried. Her messy red mop, carelessly pinned at the top of her head in a knot, had started to fall down. Tendrils of her hair framed her face in a manner Alex knew some men might find sexy, sensual. But not Alex. Dena Randolph wasn’t his type. She’d never be his type. Ever.

“Alex, Mr. Kagan,” she greeted them, sounding a little breathless.

“Gary, please.” His attorney puffed out his thin chest.

She gave him a dazzling, Rita Hayworth smile. “Gary.”

Was it Alex’s imagination, or did she add a sultry slur to the name? He hoped not. The mother of his child would have no business running around with other men. Alex expected Dena to live a quiet, safe life while she carried his baby.

He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, Dena.”

“Hiya.” She plopped into a plush green chair in front of Gary’s desk and picked up the contract. “So, is this the dastardly document?”

Gary laughed, and Dena winked at him. Alex didn’t like her come-hither look. Hopefully his child wouldn’t flirt. If the baby was a girl, he’d keep her at home until she was thirty.

“I hope you don’t find it dastardly.” Gary resumed his seat behind the desk.

“So it’s an amiable agreement instead.” She grinned.

“We think it’s quite reasonable.” Alex sat in a chair next to hers, then immediately regretted his action. She didn’t smell like a person who’d labored that morning, but like a woman. A very sensual woman, with a fresh, flowery scent.

He sat back in his chair, hoping to escape her fragrant aura. He didn’t want to enjoy Dena’s aroma, her aura, or her anything. She was his wife’s sister. Her half sister, but still…Dena? Attractive? No. Never.

Raising an eyebrow, she flipped through the pages. She didn’t appear to read it at all. “Is this the usual kind of contract for this situation?”

“There really isn’t a usual kind of contract for this. Surrogate motherhood isn’t that common. There aren’t many standard contracts. Believe me, I looked.” Gary fiddled with a pen. “I drafted one from scratch.”

“Termination of all parental rights,” Dena read aloud. “What’s that?”

“In essence, Alex will raise the child and be financially responsible for him or her.” Gary nodded at Alex.

Alex tensed. The clause meant much more than that. If Dena signed, she’d be giving up the baby.

“That goes without saying.” Dena sighed. “I’d love more kids, but I can’t afford them.”

Alex relaxed. “If this surrogacy is successful, perhaps you will be able to manage another child. Tamara left the twins a substantial sum of money.”

Dena’s lips tightened. “This has nothing to do with money. The baby was my sister’s dying wish.”

“So it was,” Alex said in a smooth tone of voice. He wanted to soothe Dena’s unsettled feelings.

“What’s this? No unsupervised contact with the baby?” Dena glared at him, eyes glittering like shards of green glass. “Are you kidding? This is my flesh and blood we’re talking about.”

He exchanged a glance with Gary. Dena wasn’t going to be a pushover.

Alex kept his voice calm. “How many aunts have unsupervised time with nieces and nephews?”

“Plenty. Tamara often took my kids to the zoo and to the park, remember? I wasn’t there to supervise. ” Sarcasm sharpened her voice.

Alex sighed. Dena was right. Tamara had adored Jack and Miri. The twins had been a big part of her desire for children of her own.

“Besides, you’ll want me to help with the baby.”

Alex tried not to look superior. “I doubt that.”

She lost the angry sparkle in her eyes. “So you think you know it all, huh, Alex?” She started to laugh.

“I’m sure I can raise my child without your assistance. You handle two, don’t you? Why can’t I take care of one?”

Her giggles continuing, she groped in her pocket and pulled out a tissue. “Oh, no problem. You’ll have no problem at all. I’m sure you can raise this kid all by yourself. After all, you did so well with the twins.” She dabbed at the tears of laughter leaking from the corners of her eyes, visibly trying to control her mirth.

Alex felt himself reddening.

Gary looked interested. “What about the twins?”

“One time when Alex and Tamara took my son and daughter to Land Park, Tamara took Miriam to Fairy Tale Town and Alex had responsibility for Jack. When Alex wasn’t paying attention—”

“He sneaked out of the men’s room. I was…indisposed. And it was just for a few seconds! It could have happened to anyone.”

Dena grinned. “Jack found his way to the Land Park zoo and tried to climb onto the chimps’ cage. All the zookeepers said he was very charming. Apparently he entertained a large crowd of people, giving the chimps screeching lessons.”

Alex glowered. “My child won’t be like that.” Especially if I keep you away.

“Of course not.” Dena’s tone was patronizing. “Your baby will be a perfect paragon of all the virtues under your wise guidance.”

Gary laughed. Alex glared at his attorney, who was supposed to be on his side.

“And what about breast-feeding?” Dena asked.

“Breast-feeding?” Alex had never in his life given any thought to the subject. Breast-feeding. He stared at Dena’s chest. He envisioned his baby sucking from one of her breasts, which were now snugly clad in a worn yellow T-shirt with the purple Dena’s Gardens logo on the front.

He’d never checked out Dena’s breasts, but they were high, round breasts, perky and, well, touchable. They’d fit nicely in his hands.

He didn’t want this fantasy. Adjusting his trousers, he pushed the image away, quick. Hot, he inserted a finger into his too-tight collar and tugged it away from his throat.

“I won’t breast-feed with an audience.” Dena folded her arms across her chest. “Makes me nervous. If I’m nervous, it affects the flow. You want your baby to breast-feed, right? That’s very important.”

“She’s right. Breast-feeding is very important.” Gary gawked at Dena, hunger clear in his eyes.

Alex drew in a breath, then let it out slowly, trying to slow his galloping pulse. “Okay, you’re right. Cross it out.”

“Thank you.” With an air of triumph, Dena plucked the pen from Gary’s fingers and scribbled out the offending clause. She dropped the pen back onto the desk.

Struggling to ignore Alex’s disturbing presence, Dena lowered her gaze to the contract. From the first day they’d met, he’d ruffled her nerves, with his disapproving attitude and disparaging comments. She resolved not to let him get to her.

But that would be hard, very hard. Alex was a handsome man, if a little cold. But his recent experiences had cracked his corporate-clone shell, letting an appealing vulnerability show through. His blue eyes held a new maturity—

Cut this out, Dena! He’s not for you!

Alex waited, anxious, as Dena continued to read. She rested her chin on her palm. The light caught her cheekbone, emphasizing its elegant curve. So like Tamara’s. He gulped.

Tamara had been a slight sylph of a woman, a petite blonde with dainty features and hair like moonbeams. Tall, voluptuous Dena had always struck Alex as a larger, rougher version of his refined wife.

Now he found himself seeing Dena in a new way. The shape of her face. The tilt of her shimmering green eyes. In fact—

“Alex, this is very interesting.” Dena raised a confused gaze from the contract. “You want to be my La-maze partner?”

“Of course. Who else?”

“Mom went with me for the twins.”

“Where was Steve?” Alex asked before he remembered Dena’s husband had left her when he discovered she was pregnant with twins. Alex would rather have bitten off his tongue than remind Dena of that dark period in her life. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it.” She shot him a breezy, careless smile. “I’m just surprised at you, that’s all.”

“Don’t be. Dena, this baby means a lot to me. I’ll be by your side every moment. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

“A supportive man. What a novel concept.” She picked up the pen and signed at the bottom of the last page. “Okay, we’re done. I’m gonna go eat. I have a short lunch break before I have to get to another job.”

“We would have been finished sooner if you’d arrived on time,” Alex said. “And you would have had enough time to read the whole contract.”

“I’ve read enough.” She stood, turned to the door and zipped out.

Alex looked at Gary, whose mouth was open.

The attorney closed his lips with an audible snap.

“What came over her?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Alex left the office to follow Dena, who was halfway to her truck. He couldn’t help noticing the way her worn jeans clasped her fit, firm bottom. Stop it, Alex!

He shoved her derriere out of his thoughts before he caught up with her in the parking lot. “What’s going on? I thought you were going to work over that contract with a fine-toothed comb.”

“So did I.” Dena unlocked the door of her truck.

“Wait right there.” Alex trotted to his car, opened the trunk and removed his tool kit. Finding some solvent in a spray can, he returned to Dena, who now sat inside her pickup.

“Turn your head.” Alex sprayed the hinges. He wanted the mother of his child in perfect health before the embryo was implanted, so he used his free hand as a screen to keep the vapor away from Dena’s nostrils.

He accidentally touched her cheek with his palm. Startled, he jerked away. “Sorry,” he mumbled, shaken. Though she worked outside, her skin wasn’t roughened by the sky and wind. Instead, she felt satin smooth, petal soft.

Again, he inhaled her scent. He ignored it.

Dena lurched back into the seat, her full lips pale and set. “Did I get some in your eyes? I tried not to.” He capped the oil container.

“It’s okay.” But she still looked teary.

“So why did you sign the contract?”

Dena squirmed in her seat. “B-because I trust you.”

He stared at her for several seconds before he remembered to smile. Dena Randolph had complimented him. Must be a historic occasion. As far as he knew, she’d never said anything nice about him. He was aware she called him Android Accountant Alex, the Corporate Clone. “Are you feeling all right?”

She gave a shaky laugh. “Not really. I’m hungry. I need to eat before my next job, and you probably want to go back to work.”

“Yeah, well, yeah.” He was completely tongue-tied. Alex hadn’t known that contact with Dena Randolph could cause loss of his voice and his sanity.

As she drove away, he stood in the parking lot watching the retreating tailgate of her truck. He remained motionless long after it had disappeared from view.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand either her bitterness or her surprise at his conduct. A supportive man. What a novel concept. Her sour attitude didn’t make sense. Tamara had described a happy childhood. Neither of his mother-in-law’s husbands had left, they’d died. Dena hadn’t come from a broken home.

If she’d truly gotten over Steve’s desertion, why the cynicism?

Scratch a cynic and there’s an idealist whose heart’s been broken. Where had Alex heard that before?

Today, Dena had revealed depths he hadn’t known existed. What strange new relationship would he and Dena forge?

Alex shook his head to clear his mind of all stray thoughts. None of this mattered. Only the baby mattered, but he knew that Dena’s emotions would affect his unborn child’s development.

His task was clear. He’d protect Dena and keep her happy, despite his mixed feelings about the woman.

And she was absolutely not going to get to him. Alex sucked in a deep breath, remembering the sweep of Dena’s red hair over her flushed cheeks, her voluptuous breasts pressing against her T-shirt, and her backside in those tight, faded jeans. He couldn’t repress his groan.

He had lustful thoughts about his dead wife’s sister. What was wrong with him?

Clutching the steering wheel, Dena turned out of the parking lot and onto Alhambra Boulevard. He’d gotten to her. Android Alex had managed to slip under her skin and make her cry.

Like a chigger.

Dena remembered Steve’s reaction when they’d learned she was pregnant. He’d been…startled, then accepting. But he’d chafed under the changes she made in their lives. She socialized less and slept more. She quit making caffeinated coffee in the mornings and didn’t serve wine or beer. She’d asked him to smoke his cigarettes outside.

He’d rebelled against the idea of assisting her with the birth, chuckling that he never could stand the sight of blood. So going with her to Lamaze was out.

When he’d seen on the ultrasound screen two hearts beating in her womb, he’d fallen silent. She’d been excited and assumed that his reaction meant that he was too stunned with joy to speak.

Less than a month later, her husband—the man with whom she’d made a lifelong commitment—was gone, after cheating on her with every willing woman in the neighborhood. A geologist, Steve had dumped his boring government job to chase his dreams of wealth in the Saudi Arabian oil fields.

He’d discarded his family the way a snake sheds its skin. He hadn’t contested the divorce. Occasionally he sent support checks. He wrote or phoned the twins even more rarely.

Steve Randolph had never met his children.

Dena stopped at a light and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Waves of anger swept through her, leaving her shaky. Try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the rage that always engulfed her when she thought about Steve. This doesn’t help, she told herself. She’d never move forward with her life if she couldn’t find peace in her own soul with Steve and his betrayals.

She threw Steve out of her mind. He was the past. He didn’t matter anymore.

When the light changed to green, Dena accelerated through the intersection.

And now Alex Chandler wanted to be her Lamaze partner. Deeply touched by the promise he made to stay by her side when the baby came, she felt she had to sign the contract.

But now she had regrets. Had she acted too hastily?

She supposed she should be grateful for his caring attitude, but she didn’t trust him, and the habit of independence from men had become deeply ingrained.

If Alex was going to be her Lamaze coach, that meant he’d be present when she gave birth. That he wanted to be there hadn’t occurred to her. She didn’t want such intimacy with Alex Chandler. She didn’t like it. It made her feel…invaded, intruded upon.

On the other hand, she’d agreed to bear his child. Few acts were more intimate. But the surrogacy made a mockery of intimacy, didn’t it? The baby would be Tamara’s, not hers.

Dena shook her head. She didn’t want to get close to Alex in any way. He was her sister’s husband. Intimacy would seem just plain weird.

She remembered the touch of his hand on her cheek, which had been the first time a man had touched her for years. The gentle stroke had felt warm and tingly. Good. Too good.

She reminded herself that the caress had been accidental, and his concern for her based on the fact that she’d be the vessel for his child.

They’d never liked each other and probably never would.

Chapter Two

In some strange way, driving Tamara’s sleek, silver Jag made Alex feel closer to her. Yet even this fuzzy-warm nostalgia for Tami couldn’t mask his nervousness at the thought of seeing Dena again. He fingered the bundle of papers on the leather seat as he turned onto Fair Oaks Boulevard, fighting rush-hour traffic all the way.

Dena hadn’t taken a copy of the surrogacy contract with her when she abruptly left Gary’s office. Although a secretary could have mailed it, Alex liked having an excuse to drop by. He needed to visit Dena. He wanted to keep tabs on the woman who would carry his child.

Why had Tamara selected her half sister? Alex tapped the steering wheel with exasperated fingers. Would matters be easier with a stranger? Perhaps, but Dena was an honest person who wouldn’t break her word. She’d give up the baby to him when the time came, so Alex could devote himself to his and Tamara’s child.

He made a right turn onto Shadownook. At the end of the tree-lined cul-de-sac stood the old house that the Randolphs had bought when they discovered Dena’s pregnancy. Set back from the shallow curb, the rambling two-story home looked as though it had been designed for a houseful of kids. The open garage held her old clunker of a truck. Nearby, gardening tools hung on the wall in neat rows.

When Alex parked at the end of the driveway, he could see the twins’ tree house nestled on a low branch of one of the huge old oaks rimming the property. Raised-bed gardens, clothed in new spring leaves, dotted the wide lawn. Kneeling, Dena dug in one, intent upon some unknown task.

He could see Jack and Miri playing on the lawn with Dena’s golden retriever. Smiles lit the twins’ grubby faces. Their dark hair stood up in spikes; the knees of their pants were torn and dirty.

Alex opened the Jag’s door. Now he could hear the kids at play. The twins’ raucous shouts changed to squeals of delight.

“Unka Alex! Unka Alex!” Oblivious to his charcoal-gray three-piece suit, Miri hugged him around the knees. She left smears of mud on his slacks.

Alex repressed a wince, knowing that the suit could be cleaned, but a child’s broken heart might never mend. He picked up the little girl, allowing her to give him a big kiss, sticky with some mysterious snack she’d eaten. All the Cohens—even the Cohen-Randolph kids—were very touchy-feely, unlike the Chandlers. Alex hoped to achieve a happy medium with his child.

“Uncle Alex!” Jack hollered, his little legs pumping as he raced toward Alex. “Mom! Uncle Alex is here!”

Alex walked toward Dena, still carrying Miri. Jack trailed behind.

“Hello, Dena.”

She looked up. Knee-deep in the loamy bed, which was half-planted with strawberry seedlings, Dena epitomized the perfect gardener. Wearing a battered straw hat, knee pads strapped around her coveralls, and sturdy gloves to protect her hands, Dena was dressed to kill…weeds.

She swiped a stray red hair off her face, leaving a streak of dirt on one high cheekbone. “Hi, Alex.”

“Mommy, can Unka Alex stay for dinner?” Miri asked. “You said we have to love him more now that Auntie Tami’s gone.”

Smiling, Dena met Alex’s clear blue gaze. “Of course Uncle Alex can have dinner with us, if he wants.”

Alex felt his neck flush. So they’d discussed him. Not surprising. The Cohens were chatty as well as touchy-feely. Embarrassed but pleased, he said, “I’d like to stay if it doesn’t inconvenience you. There are a few things I want to go over later.”

“Yay! Uncle Alex, Uncle Alex!” Jack tried to climb up Alex to join Miri.

“Jack, don’t grab at Uncle Alex’s belt. He’ll pick you up when he’s ready.”

Miriam smirked.

“Miri, stop that. Both of you, go play catch with the dog. Goldie!” Dena’s high, sharp whistle sliced through Alex’s eardrums.

Dena’s golden retriever trotted up, two tennis balls clutched in her jaw. Goldie’s tail waved and she rubbed against Alex, leaving a load of her blond hairs on his pants. She looked at his face with adoring brown eyes.

Alex put down Miriam. “Miri, get a ball from Goldie and go play.” He didn’t want dog spit all over his hands.

The twins scampered away with the dog. “Alex, could you keep an eye on them?” Dena asked. “After I get the rest of the strawberry sets planted, I need to shower and make dinner.”

“Oh, sure.”

“If you want to stay out of the firing line, you can sit on the porch.” Dena nodded at the screened veranda circling her weathered, redwood home.

While the kids romped with Goldie, Alex took his briefcase and the contract from the Jag, then retreated to the enclosed porch. He settled himself on a rattan couch upholstered in a flower print. Dividing his attention between Dena and the twins, he flipped through the Wall Street Journal.

Dena soon finished and went into the house. She emerged a few minutes later with two beers in hand. She plopped down next to Alex on the couch, offering him a bottle.

“When can you go to the doctor’s office for the implant procedure?” Alex gave her the copy of the surrogacy contract she’d left in Gary’s office.

She dropped it onto the couch between them. A symbol of their divisions, he thought.

But she sat close enough to touch. “When do you want this baby born?”

He caught her scent, something flowery. To cover his unease at her nearness, he took a swig of his beer. “I never thought about it. Does it make a difference?”

“It may be an old wives’ tale, but a lot of people think that children born in the spring and summer have a better chance at life.” Dena twisted off the cap from her bottle.

“In what ways?”

“Higher birth weight, lower infant mortality, that sort of thing.” She sipped her beer.

Alex winced at the thought of infant mortality. How could Dena sound so casual? “But we’d have to wait until August to have a baby born in May. That’s five months away.” Besides, he didn’t want to base anything about his baby on rumors or myths. He preferred research. “I think we should start right away. The first implant might not take.”

“You mean I might have to do this procedure more than once?” Dena set her bottle onto the floor next to her feet.

Alex faltered. “I’m afraid so. Remember what happened with Tamara? We could never get an embryo to stay.”

Dena’s soft, full lips tightened. “I’m sorry you and Tamara had to go through that. We can start whenever you’re ready. Just give me enough notice so I can reschedule my jobs and find child care for the twins.”

“Can Irina watch the twins? I’d volunteer, but I’d like to be nearby.”

“Hmm. If you want Mom to baby-sit you have to check with her. Obviously she’s my first choice, but we have to work around her catering jobs and her production schedule. The director won’t allow the twins on the set.”

Dena’s mother, caterer Irina Cohen, starred in a cable television show, Irina Cooks! It had made Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine wildly popular in the Sacramento area. “Why not?” Alex asked.

“You didn’t hear? Oh, this happened when you took Tamara to that cancer place back east.”

“Sloan-Kettering.” The treatments there had left Tami sick and bald. Alex swallowed down the painful memories with a gulp of brew.

“Yeah. Mom took the kids to the set one day, sure everyone would love her adorable grandchildren.”

“They really are cute.” Messy, but cute. Alex watched Jack tease Goldie with a tennis ball. Far from seeming offended, the retriever wagged her tail and barked, jumping up and down. She chased Jack around the side of the house.

“Anyway, Miri got into the food. She was in her meal-wearing phase, when everything went into her hair or on her chest.”

“She must have been quite a sight.” Alex knew that his child would never do any such thing.

Dena continued, “You know how much Jack likes to climb? He got onto one of the gaffer’s booms.” Picking up her bottle, she stood and stretched. The movement lifted her breasts inside her snug T-shirt. “Well, I’m gonna hit the shower. See ya in a while.”

The door slammed behind her as she went into the house.

Alex picked up the newspaper, but the discussion of mutual fund investments in high-tech security systems couldn’t hold his interest.

Unwittingly, his thoughts strayed to Dena. He imagined her ascending the stairs, entering her bedroom and stripping off her dirty clothes, exposing her strong body and round breasts. They’d rise higher when she unclipped her long, wavy hair.

He yanked his mind back to a columnist’s analysis of the Fed’s recent change in interest rates. This train of thought was disrespectful to Tamara. Besides, he didn’t find Dena attractive. Did he?

She’d switch on the shower and step in, wiggling her toes with pleasure at the splash of the warm water. When she shampooed, the water would slick her hair into dark, wild whips. Foam would cascade down her curvy form, clinging to her nipples. Without inhibition, she’d toss her head when she rinsed.

Was Dena’s libido as fiery as her mane?

What was he thinking? His X-rated fantasies starring Dena shocked him. He hadn’t found anyone sexy for well over a year—hadn’t had an erotic impulse since Tamara had started chemo and grown so sick. He’d devoted himself to her healing. Then, when it became clear she wasn’t going to make it, he’d helped to ease her way out of this world into a better place.

His body’s yearning spun him into tumult. He hadn’t wanted to make love for months. And now, it was Dena Randolph who had prodded his dormant libido into life.

Dena, of all people. She didn’t turn him on, he silently argued to himself. It was just that he’d been without a woman for so very long. She happened to be nearby when the natural reawakening of his sexual urges took place.

His soul cried out for Tamara. In a way, he felt he was losing her again. Another little bit of his life with her had receded into the past.

He desperately wanted to make love again, but he could never have the woman he needed: his wife. With a sickening lurch in his stomach, he accepted that he’d never again touch her, never hold her, never bury himself deep inside her.

Never love her.

He blinked back tears. Dear God, how he missed Tami. He took out a handkerchief and rubbed his face.

Closing his eyes, he recalled one of their last conversations. She’d framed his face in her hands and, looking at him with those lovely blue eyes, said, “Alex, listen to me. After I’m gone, I want you to go on.”

He’d argued with her, telling her that she’d soon be well and they’d be happy together again.

She’d shaken her head. “No. Please don’t belittle me by hiding the facts. I know I’m dying. Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll go on. Promise me you’ll have a good life, Alex. Promise me you’ll find someone to love.”

Now he leaned back and sighed. “I’m trying, Tami,” he said aloud. “But it’s so damn hard—”

A wet nose thrust into his palm, making his body jerk and his thoughts scatter. Goldie again nudged his hand, inviting him to play. Alex blinked, returning to the present.

He looked across the lawn for the twins, but Dena’s yard, dim and quiet in the waning light, held no chattering, screeching children.

Where were the twins? Jumping to his feet, Alex scanned the front yard. Guilt flooded him. How could he have been so inattentive?

He groaned. If he couldn’t watch two four-year-olds, how could he raise a baby alone? How did Dena do it? His respect for her soared.

His shoes clattering down the three wooden steps to the lawn, Alex left the veranda when he realized that he couldn’t see anything. He strode to the rear of the house. The backyard had an eastern exposure and didn’t catch any of the western sun.

“Jack! Miri!” he called.

Alex could hear the low murmur of a fountain, part of a water feature Dena had installed last summer. He walked over to make sure that neither of the kids had gone swimming. His mind refused to entertain the possibility that one had drowned.

Water chuckled over the rocks lining the pond Dena had created. A turtle raised its head, then ducked as Goldie approached. The retriever nudged Alex’s hand, then dropped a wet ball into it.

“Yuck!” Alex restrained himself from wiping his palm on his gabardine trousers. Holding the ball with only his fingertips, he tossed it for the dog.

Goldie chased it to the front of the house. Alex followed. On the way, he checked the foliage for twins.

Nothing.

He broke into a sweat despite the cool evening air. Where could they be? He checked the trees. Though Jack enjoyed climbing, they were clear. Then he spotted the twins’ tree house, a makeshift shack that a previous homeowner must have built years before the Randolphs moved in. He could see someone had improved it—Dena?—because fresh slats secured it to the big old valley oak in which it was anchored. The rope ladder that dropped from it to the lawn looked new.

Alex eyed the ladder, then his wing tips. He frowned. He didn’t want to climb up to the tree house. Although Dena had fortified it, he didn’t know if the flimsy structure could bear an adult’s weight.

“Jack? Miri!”

Silence.

But the little scamps could be hiding. He’d bet money that, on some days, their favorite sport was eluding Uncle Alex.

With a resigned sigh, Alex set his right foot into one of the lower rungs of the ladder, then skipped two as he climbed. After a few steps, he could peek into the twins’ lair.

Empty.

He turned to descend as a voice came from the screened porch. “Alex?”

His foot slipped.

“Alex, what on earth—”

His other foot tangled in the ropes, and he fell to the soft, cold grass at the bottom of the tree. Embarrassed but unhurt, he took a moment to mourn his charcoal-gray suit. He feared it had taken too much abuse to survive. No doubt it was a goner.

He raised his head. Light from inside the house streamed through the stained glass inserts in the front door, illuminating the March evening.

Dena, freshly bathed and clad in a pink chenille bathrobe, stood on the porch. He could see her wet hair in a twist at the crown of her head, with a damp curl sticking to her cheek.

The twins, in a similar clean condition, stared at him. Dena carried Miri, who wore a red robe. Jack, clad in green sweats, had climbed onto a table, presumably to get a better view of Uncle Alex making a fool of himself.

He didn’t want to admit that he’d been searching high and low for the twins. They’d obviously gone inside for their baths while he’d been lost in an erotic fantasy about their mother.

Goldie ambled over to Alex, stuck her nose into his face and chuffed in a friendly way. He caught the odor of kibble. She licked him.

Alex knelt, then stood. The seat and knees of his trousers felt damp. Probably grass-stained, as well. The elbows of his jacket were trashed. The dog had left golden hairs and saliva on his clothing.

Dena’s home, glowing in the night, beckoned him to its warmth.

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