Книга - Marriage by Contract Part 3

Marriage by Contract Part 3
Sandra Steffen


36 Hours SerialAs a devastating summer storm hits Grand Springs, Colorado, the next thirty-six hours will change the town and its residents forever….Marriage by Contract Part 3For Bethany Kent, life has never been more perfect. She has a beautiful baby and a gorgeous, accomplished husband. Despite the marriage of convenience start to their life together, she and Tony are falling in love. But then Christopher's birth mother returns and wants her son back.If Bethany does what is right and gives up Christopher, will she lose Tony, as well?Don't miss the next book in the continuing story of Grand Springs in Partners in Crime by Alicia Scott.










36 Hours Serial


As a devastating summer storm hits Grand Springs, Colorado, the next thirty-six hours will change the town and its residents forever….




Marriage by Contract Part 3


For Bethany Kent, life has never been more perfect. She has a beautiful baby and a gorgeous, accomplished husband. Despite the marriage of convenience start to their life together, she and Tony are falling in love. But then Christopher’s birth mother returns and wants her son back.

If Bethany does what is right and gives up Christopher, will she lose Tony, as well?

Don’t miss the next book in the continuing story of Grand Springs in Partners in Crime by Alicia Scott.


Dear Reader,

In the town of Grand Springs, Colorado, a devastating summer storm sets off a string of events that changes the lives of the residents forever….

Welcome to Mills & Boon exciting new digital serial, 36 Hours! In this thirty-six part serial share the stories of the residents of Grand Springs, Colorado, in the wake of a deadly storm.

With the power knocked out and mudslides washing over the roads, the town is plunged into darkness and the residents are forced to face their biggest fears—and find love against all odds.

Each week features a new story written by a variety of bestselling authors like Susan Mallery and Sharon Sala. The stories are published in three segments, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and the first segment of every three-part book is free, so you can get caught up in the mystery and drama of Grand Springs. And you can get to know a new set of characters every week. You can read just one, but as the lives and stories of each intertwine in surprising ways, you’ll want to read them all!

Join Mills & Boon E every week as we bring you excitement, mystery, fun and romance in 36 Hours!

Happy reading!




About the Author


Sandra Steffen is an award-winning, bestselling author of more than thirty-seven novels. Honored to have won a RITA® Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Wish Award, her most cherished regards come from readers around the world. She married her high school sweetheart and raised four sons while simultaneously pursuing her dream of publication. She loves to laugh, read, take long walks and have long talks with friends, and write, write, write.




Marriage by Contract Part 3

Sandra Steffen







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


An unpredicted spring storm caused so much wreckage to Grand Springs, Colorado, that everyone is still feeling the aftereffects months later. But an amazing thing also happened during those 36 hours: Beth and Tony were brought together—with their new son, Christopher. Their marriage started as a straightforward contract, but it seems to be turning into something more as their feelings for one another become more apparent. But everything is about to come crashing down really fast. Annie, Christopher’s biological mother, is coming for her baby. Even though the storm is over, there are more storm clouds on the horizon just waiting to test the bonds of marriage to see how far they can be pushed before they shatter.




Contents


Chapter Eight (#uf1a3111d-4727-50e8-a145-56c5a3ac40b0)

Chapter Nine (#u10e8ec78-ffc1-57e7-9e15-33ae58cf2202)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter Eight


“Bethany tells me you’re being considered for a promotion of significant prestige.”

Tony Petrocelli found himself removing his hand from his pocket and standing up straighter before he nodded at the petite, middle-aged woman wearing a pastel-colored dress and a single strand of pearls. “I’m not so sure about the prestige, Mrs. Bower, but I am being considered for a promotion to head of obstetrics.”

“Every time you call me Mrs. Bower,” Beth’s mother admonished, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his arm, “you remind me of Winston’s mother, whom I called Mrs. Bower for the first five years of our acquaintance. Please, call me Katherine.”

Tony did a double take at her wink, then released a deep chuckle. The sound drew several family members’ gazes, as if they weren’t accustomed to sudden bursts of laughter during their family parties. Within seconds, Beth’s sister drew Katherine into conversation, and Beth’s father, Winston Bower III, and her brother-in-law, MacKenzie Nelson, returned to their lawyer talk on the other side of the room.

Beth had warned him that her family was a little stuffy. Stuffy, hell. They were bona fide snobs. And Katherine ranked at the top of the genteel heap. But she had a sense of humor, dry though it might be, and a haughtiness he wouldn’t have minded pitting against the queen of England, not to mention a smile that reminded him of his new wife.

Beth entered the room, a sterling silver tray containing fancy little sandwiches in her hands. She graciously offered one to Winston and Mac, smiling at something her father said. It was strange, but Tony sensed love between these family members, just not closeness.

They were a far cry from the Petrocellis, that was for sure. His family hadn’t been able to wait to meet their soon-to-be adopted son, Christopher. The Bowers had yet to see him. Beth had offered to wake him and bring him down, but Katherine had declined, saying that she couldn’t fathom disturbing a sleeping child. The Bowers were polite, well mannered and well-bred. Now that he’d met them, Tony understood where Beth had acquired her class. He also understood the reason she’d been running on nervous energy these past few days, trying to make everything perfect for tonight. As far as he was concerned, she’d nearly outdone herself. She’d served wine in fluted stemware and had stacked cubes of fine cheese and hors d’oeuvres on gleaming silver and sparkling crystal trays. He’d never seen her looking more elegant. Or nervous.

Candles flickered on the mantel, threading her auburn hair with gold and honey. A lamp behind her shone through the hem of her ivory-colored dress, delineating the curve of her knee and the edge of a lacy slip. These past few days, Tony had discovered that his wife had a passion for pretty underclothes. He had a passion for removing them.

It didn’t matter that this marriage started out as a contract, with Tony needing a wife to get a promotion, and Beth needing a husband to adopt Christopher. A connection neither expected was getting stronger, and no one knew where it would take them, but they were both enjoying the ride.

Beth glanced across the room, sending him a tremulous smile. For a moment, her innermost feelings played across her face, making him doubt that he was the only one who had sex on his mind. Desire roused inside him, and suddenly he thought of one way to chase away her nerves. Something told him the Bowers would look askance at him if he swung his new wife into his arms and carried her upstairs. But it would definitely liven things up.

Beth shook her head at Tony, doing her best to school her features into a mask of calm. Still, she felt warmed by the expression in his dark eyes, and flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the mid-September temperatures outside. Her family had been here for nearly two hours, and she was beginning to believe they might all make it through the evening without incident. She wasn’t surprised that everyone seemed taken with Tony. After all, he was a doctor, which was a fitting profession in their eyes. He was also an incredibly charming man.

“Beth?”

The absent way she said “Hmm?” earned her a smile from her sister.

“I’m sorry to break into your reverie, and I know Mother doesn’t think we should wake a sleeping child, but MacKenzie and I would like to be home before the children go to bed. And I’d really love to see the baby.”

Beth started to turn toward the doorway that led to the foyer, but was stopped by Janet’s quiet voice. “I know how much work planning an evening such as this requires, and here you’ve done it with a newborn baby in the house. You must be exhausted. May I bring him down?”

Beth nodded, and Janet walked away, the swish of her skirt as elegant as her demeanor. Janet was two years older than Beth. Their hair was a similar color, but Janet’s was smooth and manageable. She was pretty and bright and nice—the perfect Bower sister. In comparison, Beth had always felt second-rate, especially in their parents’ eyes. Her grades had never been perfect, her choice of careers a mystery to them, her divorce shameful. She hadn’t even been able to get something as simple and basic as motherhood right.

“Look, everyone. Isn’t he adorable?” Janet called softly, practically floating toward the center of the room with Christopher in her arms.

Beth smiled just as she did every time she caught a glimpse of that small bundle of joy. Christopher was sucking on his fist. Honestly, she couldn’t have felt more pride burgeoning inside her if he had been negotiating world peace. In that instant she realized that there was no wrong way to become a mother. It didn’t matter that her baby hadn’t grown beneath her heart. This special child had grown within it.

She glanced at her family and was pleased to see them smiling their approval.

“He’s a fine-looking boy.”

“He seems very alert.”

“He’s undoubtedly extremely bright.”

“Just look at all that dark hair.”

Tony wasn’t really surprised at the Bowers’ reactions to Christopher. If they hadn’t been decent people, Beth wouldn’t have turned out the way she had. She was standing next to her sister. Side by side, the family resemblance was unmistakable. Both of them had inherited their height and hair color from their father, and their poise and bone structure from their mother.

“Beth,” Janet said, “wouldn’t it be wonderful if his eyes turned blue like yours?”

“If his eyes are blue, they’ll be like Annie’s, not mine,” Beth said, accepting Christopher from Janet’s outstretched arms.

“Who’s Annie, my dear?” Winston Bower asked.

“She’s the young girl who gave birth to him.”

Tony had never heard a more simple statement change the atmosphere in a room so suddenly and completely. The Bowers were far too polite to gasp, but they did share collective deep breaths and furtive glances.

“You’ve actually met the birth mother?” Katherine asked.

At Beth’s nod, her father said, “Do you think that’s wise?”

“It would have been difficult to deliver Christopher if Annie hadn’t been present, Father.”

“You delivered that baby?” Winston asked.

Beth’s gaze darted around the room. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed but wasn’t certain how to curtail it. “Annie did the hard part,” she said quietly. “All Tony and I had to do was…”

Having never had a stomach for even the most innocuous scratches and contusions, Katherine held up a delicate hand and gave her head a firm shake. “Bethany, please, you know how I react to the mere thought of…”

“Hors d’oeuvres, anyone?”

All eyes turned to Janet, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere holding a silver tray containing little cucumber sandwiches and stuffed mushrooms. “Do try the mushrooms, Mother. Beth made them, and they’re delicious.”

Katherine and Winston both relaxed, accepting one of each. The topic was changed and the moment was saved. Janet smiled demurely at everyone she passed. Beth smiled in return, thinking there was something to be said for having a sister who was perfect in every way.

* * *

“Well?” Beth asked, moving Christopher to her shoulder for a burp. “Were they what you expected?”

“I liked them.”

The rocking chair they’d received from Tony’s grandmother creaked slightly, and Beth’s hand thudded quietly as she patted the baby’s narrow back. Christopher had finished his formula and was sleeping soundly, which meant the last burp wasn’t going to be easy to draw out. Since she’d learned the hard way what happened if she laid him down before he’d released it, she continued to pat his back.

“No, really,” she said to Tony, who was lounging in the doorway on the other side of Christopher’s narrow room. “You don’t have to spare my feelings.”

“I’m not sparing anything. I think they’re very pompous but nice in an upper-crust kind of way. They seem to have accepted your marriage and the fact that they weren’t invited to the wedding with a certain degree of diplomacy. Now I know where all that poise of yours comes from.”

“That,” she said quietly, “was one thing I got right.”

Christopher released a sound that was bigger than he was, eliciting a smile from both Beth and Tony. Staying where he was in the doorway, Tony said, “Oh, I think you’ve gotten a lot more right than poise.”

The baby sighed in his sleep. Kissing his smooth, soft cheek, Beth was filled with maternal love for the child in her arms, and with longing for the man watching them from the doorway. Tony had removed his tie as soon as everyone left and unbuttoned his shirt some time later. His dress slacks were slung low on his hips, his chest and feet as naked as the longing in his eyes.

Wondering if Christopher could feel her heart rate accelerate, she rose from the chair and slowly lowered him into his crib. “They took the news quite well, considering,” she said, referring to her family’s reaction to her sudden marriage and decision to adopt Christopher. “And they all seemed to like you. Even my mother.”

“What’s not to like?”

She rolled her eyes before covering the baby with a lightweight blanket. “Janet told me I’d made a wise choice. Coming from her, that was high praise. Janet is the perfect daughter, you see, and I’m her somewhat-less-than-perfect younger sister.”

“Families are complicated. God knows, mine is. I get the feeling your mother would have preferred you to choose some nice, safe career, if you had to have a career at all. Her remarks tonight were intended to remind you of your place and social standing, and hold you there. That isn’t where you want to be.”

Beth straightened and slowly turned. Smiling, she whispered, “Thank you for the recap.”

“Anytime.”

Tony pushed himself from the door frame and ambled into the room with the easy grace of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Beth’s eyes closed dreamily, because what he wanted was her, and being wanted by Tony Petrocelli was a very heady sensation.

Yesterday had marked the one-week anniversary of their wedding. They’d gotten off to a slow start, so to speak, but they’d made up for lost time these past few days. Sometimes their lovemaking had been as long and languid as a summer afternoon. Other times they came together like two people sharing an illicit stolen moment. Those times, their lovemaking was frenzied, their desire catching fire like a match on dry tinder. Tonight, the passion in Tony’s eyes told her he had plans for the two of them, slow, languorous plans he would share with her as soon as he was good and ready.

“What?” he asked, moving around her in a slow circle, noting the amused look on her face.

Turning only her head, she said, “I was just thinking that you were probably a difficult child.”

“This from the daughter who defied her parents at every turn?”

“I only defied my parents at every other turn.”

He’d circled behind her and was coming around to her right side. “What did your father and brother-in-law say to you when they cornered you just before they left?”

“Mac and my father?” she asked dazedly. “Oh, they wanted to know if we’d signed a prenuptial agreement.”

“I’m not after your family’s money, Beth.”

“What are you after?”

His gaze dropped below her shoulders and took a long time returning to her eyes. Cocking her head playfully, she smiled. “Allow me to rephrase that question. What else are you after?”

Tony groaned softly. “What makes you think I’m after anything else?”

“Do you mean sex is all you expect from this marriage?”

“I’m sorry I brought the subject up.”

Something in his tone alerted her to an underlying problem. She’d wanted to talk to him about this before the wedding, to pin him down, to force him to tell her exactly what he wanted from their marriage, and how long he expected it to last. Now that they’d broached the subject, she didn’t want to ignore it. “I think we should discuss this, Tony.”

“No.”

Their gazes met, held.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Come on, Beth. You don’t really want to talk right now, do you?”

She swallowed her apprehension and said, “This could be for your own protection.”

He was shaking his head before she’d finished. “Protect me from what? Your family has a lot more money than mine. And it’s not as if you’re going to divorce me and hit me up for child support for a half-dozen kids.”

They both went still, the light from Christopher’s night-light stretching their shadows all the way into the hall. Beth was the first to find her voice. “You don’t need protection because I can’t have children, is that it?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it? Barry left me because I couldn’t give him children. You can’t tell me it doesn’t bother you.”

“I married you, anyway, didn’t I?”

Beth took a step back as if she’d been slapped, and Tony drew in a loud breath. She remembered when he’d told her he didn’t want charity or a virgin sacrifice. Raising her chin in a manner she’d learned from her mother, she quietly said, “Who’s offering charity now, Tony?”

Tony started to swear. Realizing they were still standing in the middle of Christopher’s room, he clamped his mouth shut and whispered, “Beth, this isn’t coming out the way I intended. You caught me off guard, that’s all. What I’m giving you isn’t charity, not by a long shot.”

“What do you want in return?” she asked quietly.

Beth didn’t know what she saw in his eyes this time, but it was more than attraction and seduction. There was anger, and worry, and maybe a hint of sadness, and something else that scared her more than all the others combined, because it looked a lot like remorse. “I’ve already suffered one broken heart, Tony, and I’d really prefer not to experience it again.”

“I have no intention of breaking anybody’s heart, dammit.”

“But?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything. And neither did she. They stood perfectly still, staring at each other. She finally nodded, but nothing had really been settled. Neither of them seemed to know what to do to make things better.

“Look,” she whispered, “we’re both tired and overwrought.”

“Yes,” he said, jumping at the excuse so quickly it heightened her concerns. “We’re probably not thinking clearly. Let’s get some sleep. Everything will look a lot better in the morning.”

Beth thought about how many times she’d told a patient that very thing, and wondered if they felt as suspicious of it as she did right now.

She and Tony used separate bathrooms, then crawled into the same bed. He kissed her good-night, and then they turned onto their sides, facing opposite directions. Her body relaxed eventually, but her mind was more difficult to put to sleep. She reminded herself that she’d put in a grueling two days preparing the house and food for her family’s visit. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe they weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe the fact that he couldn’t talk about her infertility didn’t mean that he’d never accept it. Maybe bringing it up tonight hadn’t put an irreparable rift in their fragile relationship.

Maybe everything really would look better in the morning.

* * *

Morning didn’t bring any magical revelations or miracle cures to their dilemma. Tony woke up to his alarm and groggily got out of bed while Beth went to feed the baby. They came face-to-face in the hall, giving each other a wide berth as if by unspoken, mutual agreement.

Christopher had awakened every two-and-a-half hours throughout the night. Each time she’d fed and changed him, she thought about what would have happened if Tony hadn’t agreed to marry her, thereby giving this beautiful little boy a two-parent home, and her the opportunity to be his mother. Lord, how she wished she’d left the skeleton of her infertility in the closet. But each time she’d crawled back into bed, she was more convinced that she and Tony had to talk about this, to make peace with it, so they’d know where to go from here.

She’d believed Tony when he’d said he wanted to be a father to Christopher. He wasn’t going to divorce her before the adoption was final. But what about later? Could they build a real marriage on the legality of their union? Or would he always wish things could have been different? With another woman, they could be. Barry had certainly proved that. Her first husband had hurt her in nearly every emotional way, making her feel guilty for something that she had no control over. Barry had once said that it was her body that wasn’t functioning properly. It was her body that prohibited conception. And on a subliminal level, in some perverse way that wasn’t fair, Barry had believed that that made it her fault.

She’d come to terms with her own body’s inadequacies, had made peace with her fate. None of it had come without scars, or pain or resolutions. The most important thing was the promise she’d made to herself to be honest about her feelings, and to expect others to be honest in return.

Pipes rumbled overhead as the shower was turned off. She quickly started the coffee, then hurried to the back bathroom where she combed her hair, washed her face and brushed her teeth. By the time she returned to the kitchen, the coffee was done and her resolve was firmly in place.

She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Good morning,” she called as cheerily as she could manage.

“Good morning,” he replied, eyeing her cautiously.

“Are you ready to talk this morning?”

He lumbered past her on his way to the coffeemaker with a dark look and a mumbled “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Come on, Tony,” she cajoled. “You must have some idea in your mind of what you’ll be doing a year from now, or five, or ten. Am I there with you? Or do you see a faceless woman and more children?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it? Can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you haven’t paused for a moment while we were making love, that you haven’t thought about the fact that you couldn’t make me pregnant?”

He set his mug down so hard coffee sloshed over the side. “What do you want me to say, Beth?”

“The truth.”

“I don’t know what I see in my future a year from now, or in five years, or ten. And that’s the honest-to-God truth.”

Beth closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she were more like Janet, who never rocked the boat, or made waves, or got herself into a situation that had no clear and easy way out.

“Look,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s forget about it and just go on the way we were.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because,” she said, imploring him with her eyes, “I thought I would die of hurt and heartache when Barry left me. But I didn’t. As time went on, I realized that my life with him had been a lie. What you and I are doing for Christopher and Annie feels good and honorable and right. It feels like destiny, but I need to keep the truth in front of me, so I know where I’m going, and why.”

He heaved a great sigh. “Where does that leave us?”

“Between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I’ll move my clothes back into the spare room later this morning.”

“What?”

She wanted to explain to him that if she continued to have sex with him, she was going to fall in love with him. And she just didn’t think she could live through being thrown away twice for the same reason. But she became tongue-tied and ended up saying, “I think it would be best.”

“Best?” he bellowed.

“Less awkward.”

“I think I should have some say in this,” he declared, his voice rising. “We’re married, and we should sleep in the same bed, dammit. If you don’t want me to make love to you, I won’t. I’m not some rutting teenager, you know. I’m old enough to control my own lust.”

When she didn’t answer, Tony stalked to the door and slammed it behind him.

He arrived at the hospital with his tie loose and his cuffs unbuttoned, wondering what in the hell had happened last night. One minute he’d been contemplating what he was going to do when he took Beth to bed, and the next thing he knew, they were talking about whether or not he saw her in his future. No wonder her mother didn’t understand her. Bethany Kent Petrocelli was one obstinate, contrary woman.

He buttoned his cuffs, thinking that wasn’t entirely fair or true. Beth was beautiful and smart and thoughtful. That was the problem. She thought too much. How was he supposed to know how he felt about the fact that she couldn’t give him kids of his own? Did she want him to say he was happy about it? He sure as hell didn’t believe it was a good enough reason to move her clothes back into the spare bedroom. What was he going to do about that woman?

He locked his car and headed for the hospital’s back entrance. At least he knew what he was doing at the hospital. Delivering babies and doling out prenatal vitamins and listening to unborn babies’ heartbeats was his forte. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what to do about his marriage. Not a stinking clue.

* * *

Later that morning, after she’d fed Christopher and had given him his bath, Beth called her brother-in-law and made an appointment to have a post-nuptial agreement drawn up. Then she walked upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Tony, staring at the king-size bed, lost in thought. She thought for most of the day. She came up with a lot of questions, but no revelations or resolutions.

Tony arrived home shortly after six. They shared dinner and made polite conversation. When he was called to the hospital to deliver a baby a few minutes before eight, they both breathed a secret sigh of relief at the reprieve.

By the time Tony returned home, it was after midnight. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom, where Beth was sound asleep. She hadn’t moved her things back to the spare bedroom. Being careful not to make too much noise releasing another pent-up sigh of relief, he checked on Christopher, then undressed and crawled into bed.

There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t have fallen asleep immediately. Beth didn’t jostle the bed. And he couldn’t smell her perfume or shampoo, or feel her warmth. She was too far away. But he knew she was there. And sleep was going to be a long time coming.

Beth opened her eyes and lay staring into the darkness, wondering if Tony would reach for her or whisper good-night. He did neither, tossing and turning on his side of the bed while she lay motionless on hers. The line had been drawn, and neither of them knew how to cross it.

MacKenzie worked her into his schedule on Tuesday, fitting her between a sticky divorce and a property dispute that was turning into a feud that rivaled the Hatfields and the McCoys. She thought her brother-in-law looked tired, but she didn’t tell him as much. In return, he asked her questions regarding the document she wanted him to draw up. As was their family’s way, he handled himself with a certain understated finesse and didn’t delve too deeply into her personal life or emotions.

Tuesday night seemed to take forever, as did Wednesday. Beth and Tony had dinner together both evenings. They talked about the baby, the weather, his work, but there were long stretches of silence when they faced each other, quiet and uncertain. They said good-night after crawling into bed together, but they didn’t kiss, and they didn’t make love.

Thursday morning, Beth picked up the legal document. After strapping Christopher into his car seat in the car, tears gathered in her eyes. They seemed to come out of nowhere with so much force she couldn’t stop them. Christopher stared up at her, his expression so serious she cried harder, promising him that everything would be all right all the while.

When the tears finally stopped, she dried her face and kissed the baby tenderly. And then she went to the Silver Gypsy to see Jenna.

* * *

Christopher was fascinated with the faint purl of wind chimes and the brightly colored scarves overhead. “Just look at him,” Jenna exclaimed. “He’s getting a double chin.”

Beth smiled. “He’s gained half a pound since we brought him home.”

“He looks healthy, all right. You, on the other hand, look like hell.”

Pretending to be interested in one of the new necklaces Jenna had designed, Beth shrugged. “In order for Christopher to put on weight, someone has to feed him. Often. I’m running low on sleep these days, that’s all.”

Jenna made a most unbecoming sound. “What a crock. You’re one of those people whose eyes become luminous when you’re tired, and you know it. Come on,” she said, swishing through the beads in the doorway leading to the tiny back room. “We’ll brew a pot of tea and you can tell Auntie Jenna all about what’s bothering you.”

Jenna was three years younger than Beth and looked about as auntlike as a sheikh’s belly dancer. Her long black hair swished when she walked, her strappy sandals showcasing small feet and narrow ankles. She was five three and had once said she’d been built low to the ground for easier maneuverability. Suddenly Beth found herself sitting at the tiny glass table in one corner, sipping strong tea and telling Jenna about her married life with Tony.

“We’re both miserable,” she said, nearing the end of her account. “We’re so fidgety and edgy and polite, I want to scream.”

“Of course you’re fidgety. You’re sleeping with a man who can’t touch you.”

“Do you think I should move back to the spare bedroom?”

Jenna snorted. “Few marriages work without sex, especially when one of the parties involved is nicknamed the Italian Stallion. I think you should take up where you left off several days ago.”

Beth shook her head. “That’s interesting advice coming from someone who hasn’t had a date in years.”

Jenna’s brown eyes twinkled like her Gypsy ancestors as she said, “We’re not talking about my sex life. We’re talking about yours. It’s a good thing, because I haven’t taken a man home in so long I hardly remember who puts what where. Be a pal and refresh my memory. Details would be good. Lots and lots of details.”

Beth threw a linen napkin at her and took another sip of her tea. “I don’t think I can go back to the way things were before.”

“Why not?”

When Beth didn’t answer, Jenna nodded knowingly. “Aaah. I think I’m beginning to understand. You’re afraid of getting hurt. But you can’t guard your heart against falling in love, Beth, no matter how hard you try. If it happens, it happens. You’ll have to accept it, along with the risks that go with it.”

Her best friend’s advice may have been well intended and sound, but Beth didn’t know if she could follow it. Maybe marriages couldn’t work without sex, and maybe she couldn’t protect herself from being hurt. But now that she’d thrown this up between her and Tony, she didn’t know how to get past it.

“I don’t know, Jenna. I want my relationship with Tony to be more than just sex between two consenting adults. I want emotion and passion.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes and lowered her chin. “Oh, my God. You want the fairy tale. Just remember how uncomfortable glass slippers would get in the long haul.”

Shaking her head at Jenna’s terminology, Beth said, “I don’t know how you’ve made it this long without meeting a man who can match you wit for wit.”

“There are none out there. Believe me, I’ve looked. Just remember the reason you got married in the first place.”

“For Christopher,” Beth said quietly.

“For Christopher,” Jenna seconded.

Propping her chin in her hand, Beth said, “How is it that you always seem to be able to keep sight of what’s important?”

Jenna flicked her hair behind her shoulders and busied herself at the tiny sink. “It’s a curse. And that’s exactly what I’m going to put on you if you don’t get out of here and let me get some work done.”

“You’re the best, Jenna.”

Jenna rattled off something in another language. With a mild shake of her head, Beth settled Christopher in the crook of her left arm and reached into the gigantic purse she carried these days. Fumbling around for a diaper and an extra bottle, she drew her hand out. “Here,” she said, pressing a tissue into Jenna’s fingers. “You missed a tear in the corner of your eye.”

It took a lot to render Jenna Maria Brigante speechless. Beth rather enjoyed it, but since she didn’t need a hex added to her list of problems, she and Christopher went home. She spent the rest of the morning wondering what she would do if she actually allowed herself to fall in love only to have Tony decide he couldn’t live with the fact that he was never going to bring a child of his own into the world.

It’s what Barry had done, she thought, rocking Christopher later that afternoon. The baby turned his face into the crook of her neck and sighed as if he had everything he needed. In that instant she realized that this situation was very different from her situation with Barry. When he’d left her she’d had no one. Now she had Christopher, and as soon as the adoption was final, nobody would ever be able to take him from her. Jenna was right. No matter what happened between her and Tony, Christopher would always be her son.




Chapter Nine


Tony entered his house the way he always did, via the back door. Trudging into the kitchen, he dropped his jacket over a chair and glanced around for a sign of Beth. She was nowhere in sight, but the kitchen was immaculate. In fact, the only things out of place were an empty baby bottle and a used teacup by the sink. A legal-looking document on the table caught his eye. With a sense of dread he understood all too well, he strode on over for a closer look. He scanned the top page and scowled. He’d been doing a lot of that this week, so much in fact that the people at the hospital had started steering clear of him. He could handle their furtive glances and obvious sidesteps, but the next person who asked him if he’d been taking ornery lessons from Abigail Horton was going to get a piece of his mind. As per Florence Donahue’s instructions, he’d rearranged his work schedule so he could be here to care for Christopher while Beth worked. Normally she worked on the weekend, but this time she was working the Thursday afternoon shift. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d arrived home with a few minutes to spare. Deciding that Beth was probably still getting ready, he headed for the stairs.

The entire house was quiet, except for the occasional note of a home-sung lullaby filtering down the open staircase. He’d heard her sing to the baby before, but he’d never known a lullaby to be desire-inducing. Man, he had it bad.

Following the sound of that low, sultry voice, he strode to the doorway of Christopher’s room. Beth was waltzing the baby around the room in a dance so slow and graceful it made his lungs feel too large for his chest. Christopher’s eyes were open, but Beth’s were closed, the expression on her face dreamy and full of maternal love.

She was wearing her nursing uniform. The material looked soft, as if it had been washed a hundred times, the fabric following the graceful contours of her slender body. A shudder went through him, a direct result of all the days of watching her, of wanting her and not having her.

She placed Christopher on the changing table, completely oblivious to his presence and to the chaotic turn his hormones had taken. “Whoever said there was no such thing as love at first sight?” she crooned, unfastening the baby’s tiny pajamas. “I took one look at you, and I was lost, yes I was.”

Tony stood motionless, listening to the lull of her voice. Her smile enticed, her eyes danced. He’d never seen so much emotion, had never heard so much tenderness, had never witnessed so much pure pleasure in another woman’s features. That tiny baby brought Beth to life as a mother, and in a way Tony had never thought about before, Chris brought her to life as a woman, too.

The desire Tony had been fighting changed subtly, only to be replaced with something he liked a lot less. Jealousy. He ground his teeth together, calling himself every name in the book. What kind of man was jealous of the attention his wife paid to an innocent child? A man who hadn’t made love to his wife in almost a week, that’s who. If that didn’t change soon, he was going to go out of his mind.

Beth must have noticed the glide of his hand into his pocket, because she looked up, her smile nearly buckling his knees. “Are you ready to tackle your first night alone with your son?” she asked.

That wasn’t all Tony was ready for.

He almost snorted. “What’s the matter? Don’t you think I can handle it?”

Beth’s chin came up like a whiplash, her eyes searching Tony’s face. He looked a tad ornery. He’d been looking like that a lot lately. Swallowing, she glanced at Christopher, and suddenly she felt unsure. “Maybe I should call in sick.”

“I deliver babies for a living, Beth. I think I’m qualified to handle Chris for one evening, for crying out loud.”

Of course, she thought to herself. Tony was extremely qualified to care for Christopher on his own. She was being paranoid. It was just that in the almost two weeks they’d had him, Christopher had never been out of her care, and these last few days, Tony had been as grouchy as a bear with a sore paw.

“I know you’re qualified,” she said, instilling her voice with as much calmness as she could muster.

“At least we agree on something.”

She didn’t allow herself to stare, mouth gaping, at the man she’d married. Instead, she went back to the task of diapering Christopher, snapping his sleeper as if she’d been doing it all her life.

“Tony,” she said, finishing the task, “I know you’re perfectly able to handle Christopher tonight, but if you’re too tired or if you run into problems or simply want some company, your mother and two of your sisters offered to baby-sit.”

Tony shook his head slowly, feeling like a kid who’d just had a temper tantrum in a public place. Strolling farther into the room, he said, “I know. I’ll keep them in mind for backup, but like Mrs. Donahue said, this will be good bonding time for Chris and me.”

She seemed to study his expression for a long time. Either she didn’t realize that his face had been so prone to frowns all week that the smile he was trying to give her hurt, or she was too prudent to comment, because she smiled in return and placed Christopher in his arms.

“He just finished eating, so he should be ready for a nap soon. If he needs a clean sleeper, they’re in this drawer. The extra blankets are here.”

“Beth.”

She stopped talking and turned to look at him.

“We’ll be fine. I’ll feed one end and diaper the other. I promise to take good care of him. Now, go. You’re going to be late.”

Christopher let out a little squawk as if to accent Tony’s statement. Beth looked from one to the other, evidently realizing that the baby was in good hands. She strode toward them, lithely leaning down to whisper a kiss on Christopher’s forehead. Tony held his breath, wondering if she was going to do the same to him. When she turned, calling goodbye over her shoulder, he told himself he wasn’t disappointed.

From the doorway, she said, “Do you have any questions?”

He shook his head. “How about you?”

Her gaze slid from his, then slowly climbed back to his face. “There is one thing.”

“Yes?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve been spending time with Abigail Horton.”

She didn’t wait around for his comment. That was okay. He didn’t know what he would have said, anyway.

The scent of her expensive perfume lingered in the room after she left, the expression on her face lingering in his mind even longer. He wondered if she’d been aware of the smile that had stolen across her face at her stab at wry humor. He wondered if she’d had any idea what that smile of hers had done to him.

Tony thought about scowling, but he looked down at Christopher, who was staring up at him, and he smiled, instead. He hadn’t taken lessons from Abigail Horton, no matter what anybody said. But old Abigail could have taken a tip or two from him this past week.

“Bye, you two,” Beth called up the stairs. “See you shortly after eleven.”

“We’ll be here,” Tony answered.

By the time he walked to the top of the stairs, the foyer was empty. Moments later he heard the back door close. “Well, kid,” he said to Christopher. “It looks like it’s just you and me. Bethany said she’ll be back around eleven. We should be able to handle things for the next eight hours without too much trouble, right?”

The baby stared up at him silently.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to answer. I know what you’re thinking. This should be a piece of cake.”

* * *

A piece of cake, hell, Tony thought, stiffly switching Christopher to his other shoulder. The baby cried when he jiggled him. The baby cried when he patted him. He cried when he laid him down and picked him up. He’d been crying for the better part of the past three hours. And Tony was at the end of his rope.

Chris wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t burp.

It was like his and Beth’s wedding night all over again. Tony racked his brain trying to remember what Beth had done that night and every night since. She’d made it all look so easy.

“Easy, my eye,” he murmured in Christopher’s ear.

Christopher seemed to listen. Was it possible that his cries were beginning to wind down as he drew in a shuddering breath? Was his little body relaxing, his knees straightening slightly, his muscles softening just a little? Tony was almost afraid to hope.

“That’s better,” he murmured, to himself or Chris, he wasn’t sure.

The baby turned his head toward the sound of the masculine voice. He stared up at Tony’s face. Tony held his breath. Before his very eyes, Christopher’s lower lip jutted out in a little pout and his chin started to quiver. And then holy hell broke loose all over again. Tears squeezed out of his eyes and a high-pitched cry worse than fingernails on a chalkboard bellowed from his throat.

“What are you doing to that poor kid?” Gib yelled from the doorway.

Tony jumped, which startled Christopher, making him cry all the harder. Tony swore under his breath. “What does it look like I’m doing to him?”

“Can’t you make him stop?”

Tony shot his best friend a penetrating look. Gib, who had grown used to Tony’s moody side years ago, limped into the room. “Maybe a pin’s poking him.”

Tony snorted. A lot of help Gib was going to be. He may have been an expert in tactical maneuvers, but he didn’t even know that babies rarely wore diapers with pins anymore.

Tony knew he could have called his mother or any one of his sisters for help. But they’d surely recognize the strain in him, and he simply wasn’t willing to discuss his sex life, or his lack of a sex life, with the females in his family. So, he’d called Gib. At the time, it had seemed like a logical course of action. Now he wasn’t so sure.

All six foot two, two hundred and twenty pounds of Gibson Malone was looking bewildered and extremely unhelpful. “Maybe he’s hungry.”

“Of course he’s hungry,” Tony answered. “He hasn’t eaten in more than three hours.”

“Then, why don’t you feed him, for crying out loud?”

Gee, Tony thought to himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

Realizing that they weren’t going to solve anything by shouting at each other over the top of Chris’s dark head, Tony took a deep, calming breath and lowered his voice. “He won’t eat for me. He wants Beth. He’s not the only one.”

Gib leaned heavily on his cane, his eyebrows the only part of him moving. Not much got past Gib Malone. Tony had a feeling he was going to pay for that little slip of the tongue. But right now, with Christopher screaming his mad little head off, Tony didn’t care. Right now, he had a baby to take care of. It shouldn’t have been so difficult. He’d handled hundreds of babies. Now that he thought about it, most of those had been screaming, too. Great. He brought babies into the world screaming, and he seemed to have the same effect on his new son.

“Here,” Gib muttered. “Let me try. Maybe the hair on your chest is tickling him. Where’s your shirt, anyway?”

Tony didn’t see much sense in explaining that he’d evidently left Chris uncovered too long when he’d been changing his diaper. The wet shirt had been a surprise, but the kid had a darned good aim.

He placed the wriggling infant in Gib’s big hands. “He’s strong, but you’ve still got to support his head.”

Gib’s mouth dropped open, a look of wonder crossing his face. “I can hardly tell I’m holding anything. How much does he weigh?”

“Just under six pounds.”

Tony removed his eyes from Christopher long enough to glance at his friend. Gib’s blond hair looked freshly washed and was secured at the back of his head in a stubby little ponytail. His face was clean-shaven. The man had seen horrors he wasn’t at liberty to discuss. Right now, his hazel eyes, eyes that were as changeable as the seasons, were trained on Chris. “He’s got a lot of cry for a six-pounder.”

Tony told himself there was absolutely no reason he should suddenly feel taller, broader, stronger. No reason why he should feel so, so proud. But he straightened his shoulders and fought the urge to ruffle Gib’s hair, anyway. “Yeah. He’s always been a fighter. He’s an amazing little kid.”

Feeling strangely uncomfortable with his new set of emotions, he reached for Chris, saying, “Here. He’s a baby, not a live grenade.”

Gib handed the baby over willingly. “Then, I guess throwing myself on top of him is out of the question.”

Tony laughed, the sound rumbling and burgeoning from deep inside. Whether it was the sound or the vibration or the feeling that he was safe, Christopher stopped crying. Just like that, the room became quiet.

Silence. Hell, it was golden. Silver, bronze and platinum all rolled into one.

“What happened?” Gib whispered incredulously.

Making a sound that was half sigh, half moan, all feeling, Tony said, “I think my son and I just reached a little understanding. Come on downstairs, Malone. Something tells me he’ll drink his bottle now. And then he’ll probably sleep for a couple of hours.”

“That’s good,” Gib answered, following more slowly. “Maybe that will give you enough time to explain why your wife had a marriage contract drawn up, and why you look frustrated enough to bite somebody’s head off.”

* * *

Autumn was in the air, and so was blessed silence.

Tony and Gib were sitting on the patio on the wicker furniture Martin Smith had helped move from Beth’s place less than two weeks ago. Now that Chris was sound asleep in his crib upstairs, the night was infinitely quiet, beautifully, amazingly, wonderfully quiet. Lights were coming on in houses up and down the street. The stars weren’t out yet, but the moon was full, and lights twinkled from the windows of the cabins sparsely dotting the face of the mountain.

“Whew,” Gib whispered, propping his left leg on a low stool. “It only took one six-pound baby to do what it usually takes a tall, voluptuous blonde to do. That kid of yours wiped me out. Wore me down. Turned me weak in the knees. If you’re lucky, I might have enough energy left to listen to what’s bothering you. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on, why you look ready to hit somebody, and what it all has to do with that marriage contract I happened to leaf through when I first arrived.”

Running a hand through his hair, Tony took a deep breath and eyed his friend. He hadn’t planned to confide in anyone about this, but suddenly he wanted to tell Gib. He didn’t really know where to start, so he started at the beginning. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something strange happened to me the night Christopher was born….”

Gib nodded every once in a while and asked the occasional question. For the most part, he listened, taking it all in, piecing it all together. Tony told him about the zing that had gone through him immediately after he and Bethany had helped Annie Moore bring Christopher into the world. He explained how Beth had asked him to marry her and why, and everything else that had happened since. When he’d finished the entire, sordid story, neither man said anything for several minutes.

Finally, Gib spoke. “You’ve gotta find a way to tell her you’re sorry, man. You are sorry, aren’t you?”

Tony was leaning ahead in his chair, his elbows on his thighs, his chin propped on his hands. Staring out into the darkness of his backyard, he said, “I’m sorry as hell. I’m just not sure what for.”

Gib shook his head and reached for the drink he’d been nursing for the past hour. “It looks to me as if Beth’s Achilles heel is her inability to have biological children. You found her most tender area and stomped on it.”





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/sandra-steffen/marriage-by-contract-part-3/) 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.