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Authors: Teresa Southwick

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BOOK: To Have the Doctor's Baby
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“I could tell.” Shelley started the car. “The next one isn't far from The District and Green Valley Ranch Resort. That makes movies, shopping and really good restaurants close.”

During the drive they were quiet, just taking in the greenbelts and walkways through the family-centered neighborhood. Right off Valle Verde Parkway she stopped in front of another two-story house with a small front yard landscaped with desert plants and decorative rock.

Shelley looked at the information sheet. “This is supposed to be in nice condition, lots of extras. It's a little over the price range you gave me.”

Nick released his seat belt and leaned forward. “Not a problem if she likes it.”

Ryleigh gave him an independent look that was new and very hot, as in sexy hot. “If I like it, I'll handle the cost.”

“Everything is negotiable,” Shelley told them. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

The owners weren't home, so the same routine applied. When the agent left them, Nick stood beside her in the kitchen/family room combination. This property had five bedrooms, including one on the first floor with its own bath.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“The carpet is pretty worn.”

“Shelley said the sellers are motivated and offering an allowance. They'll even let the buyer pick out something and have it installed before move-in.”

“The floor plan is a little choppy,” he added, studying the backyard. “It has a pool.”

“I know.” She grabbed his arm in her excitement. “Isn't that great?”

“There's no fence.” Her hand was still warm as it
gripped his long-sleeved shirt, but he felt the enthusiasm drain out of her. Explaining his motivation for the comment would probably be good. “A small child could wander outside and fall in.”

She nodded, but a frown settled in her eyes. “Doesn't look like it would be problematic or costly to add one.”

“If you like this house.” He studied her face. One part of him hoped she loved the place and would move in tomorrow. Another part hoped she hated it and would stay with him just a little longer. Part two needed some serious therapy.

“I like this house a lot,” she said, glancing around. “But there are still more to see.”

He nodded. “At least you narrowed the search by price range and square footage. Nothing farther than ten miles from Mercy Medical Center or smaller than twenty-three hundred square feet.”

“And still there are so many properties for sale.”

“Yeah. Let's go see them.”

When they got to the last house on the list, Nick could tell by the look on Ryleigh's face that she liked it a lot. As usual he held his emotions back, but Ryleigh didn't. She'd worn the very same bright-eyed expression when walking through the house they'd bought together.

One of the things he'd always liked about her was that you never had to guess how she was feeling. Happy, sad, grumpy or puzzled, her face showed everything. Right now it was showing unqualified approval.

Shelley didn't miss it, either. “I think this might be the one. You two talk. I'll go sit in the car and make some calls.”

When the front door closed, Nick asked, “Is she right?”

“I really like this one,” she confirmed. “Love the tile.
It's something I would have picked and goes with the light beige walls.”

He leaned a shoulder beside the French doors leading to the rear yard. “You don't think that makes it too dark?”

She shook her head. “The white ceiling not only makes it look higher, but it brightens the room, too.”

“The pool takes up most of the backyard.”

“It's fenced,” she pointed out.

“But that doesn't leave much grass for a kid to play in.”

“There's some off to the right. And the private park and play area is across the street.”

“You don't think it might get noisy?”

“No.” She listened. “It didn't seem like there's much traffic, just people in the neighborhood.” She looked around the family room that adjoined the kitchen. “This is the only house we've seen with a fireplace.”

“This is Las Vegas. It's not like you need one to stay warm.” But he remembered lighting his fireplace to set a romantic mood for sex, and that went under the heading of no good deed goes unpunished.

“But can't you just see it decorated with lighted garland at Christmas?”

“Not really.” He was picturing his house without her in it and the emptiness when she was gone.

“That's because you have no whimsy.”

He grinned. “I can live without it.”

“Not me. And the master bedroom had a ton of it. Big and bright. Didn't you love that Jacuzzi tub?”

Not after he got a vision of being in it with her. Naked. “The closet is too big.”

“On what planet?” She looked at him as if aliens were popping out of his chest. “There's no such thing as a closet that's too big.”

“If you say so.”

“I'm not alone. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of women would say the same thing.” She tilted her head and studied him, a frown lurking in her big brown eyes. “What's with you today, Nick?”

“Nothing.” Denial was as good a place to hide as anywhere else. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you weren't this much trouble when we bought a house together.”

“That's because I just let you pick it out.”

He remembered as if it were yesterday. When the idea of house hunting came up, they'd just been married. He'd have bought her the moon to make her happy.

And she was. For a while. Then he left her alone too much, more than he needed to. At least she didn't turn to another man. Her leaving was hard, but he didn't think he could take that.

Backlit by the French doors, she rested her hands on her hips. “The thing is, this time you don't get a vote.”

“Did you not say that you wanted my opinion?”

“Yes. But not if all you see is negative. I'm picking it out and making the final decision.”

And there was the source of his conflict. He wanted her under his roof every bit as much as he didn't want her there. He'd thought it would be no big deal, but he hadn't counted on the scent of her skin and the sound of her voice surrounding him.

He hadn't anticipated that her essence, her presence, would remind him every second of every day what he would never get back. Even if he wanted to, there was no point in trying because he'd only disappoint her again. And he'd sworn never to do that.

He'd once heard his father say that his mother was as necessary to him as breathing. When she left, he never
recovered and remarrying was a mistake. His dad was a broken man and nothing could fix him, not even a second marriage. It was very possible he'd died of a broken heart. Nick wouldn't be a chip off the old block. He couldn't let himself need anyone or be lost without them. Ryleigh had come awfully close to doing that to him, but he'd gotten over it.

When he'd invited her to live with him this time, it never crossed his mind that he'd be so completely tempted to let go of his control with her. Taking a step back was what he needed to do.

“You're right.” Nick met her gaze. “You should make an offer on this house.”

Chapter Seven

N
ick wasn't liking this Monday nearly as much as the last one. He hadn't seen Ryleigh that morning, for coffee, breakfast or anything else. Although it didn't stop him, he had no business thinking about sex. Her fertile window had slammed shut several days ago.

As if that wasn't enough to justify his foul mood, he'd made a complete ass of himself during Ry's house-hunting expedition. Women were notorious for sending mixed signals, but if anyone had ever accused Nick of it, he'd have sent them for a psych evaluation. At least that's what he'd have done before yesterday's real-estate tour.

On the one hand, he supported the idea of her moving out a hundred percent and had given her every practical reason he could think of to buy a house. During her attempt to do just that, he'd verbally assaulted every property, even though any of them would have suited her perfectly. It didn't take a mental giant or a shrink to figure
out that he didn't want her to move out even though he knew it would be best and had advised her to make an offer.

He was feeling things that were unacceptable and against his primary rule. Survival meant not letting himself need anyone. Never get in too deep emotionally. That was the devil of it. Ryleigh had a way of skewering that rule with the four-inch heels of her come-get-me pumps.

That's
why this Monday was already a freaking disaster and it was only just after noon.

Nick had finished morning appointments in the office, then looked in on a patient at Mercy Medical Center and was now in the cafeteria putting food on his tray. Halloween wasn't far away and there were a few decorations. Ghosts, witches and jack-o-lanterns were tacked up on the walls. A skylight in the bell tower bathed the room and the scattered tables and chairs in it with natural sunlight.

At the stainless-steel cashier table, fake cottony stuff made a web that held a plastic spider. The woman at the register knew him and waved him through the line. Doctors didn't pay for food, but it wasn't like that perk of the job would lift his cone of crabbiness.

Seeing an empty table in the back corner, he headed for it. Isolation was the best treatment for his condition in case it was contagious. Mostly he didn't feel like being nice.

He'd just finished his turkey sandwich and started on a bowl of strawberries that made him think of Ryleigh when he saw Carlton Gallagher heading his way. Nick noted the gray slacks, tailored white shirt and red tie that Gallagher had on along with the stethoscope draped around his neck.

Was being a sharp dresser what made the female employees in the room check him out as he walked? Maybe
the sprinkling of gray at the temples of his dark hair turned the guy into a chick magnet? The puppy-dog brown eyes? Or the mysterious tan he somehow maintained even though seeing patients in either the office or the hospital made being in the sun for any length of time practically impossible.

Nick's irritation edged upward and he knew it had little to do with the fact that Gallagher's idealistic approach to the practice of medicine was different from his own. His annoyance had everything to do with Ryleigh chatting up his prospective partner that day outside the newborn nursery. Although it ticked him off even more, honesty compelled him to label the irritation for what it really was.

Jealousy.

And it knotted in his stomach when he saw Ryleigh come around the corner and weave through the tables following behind the other doctor. Clearly they were planning to eat together. When they put their green plastic trays down on either side of his, there was no denying they were going to join him without asking if he even wanted them to join him.

And the Monday hits just kept on coming.

“Hi, Nick.” Ryleigh smiled. “I ran into Carlton in the hall. He was here at the hospital most of the night with the family of a sick little patient so I took pity and invited him to lunch.”

Gallagher reeked of good humor, even though he looked like he'd been run over by a truck. “You don't mind if we join you.”

“Nope.” A lie, but he was literally between a rock and a hard place. Gallagher was wearing the hero hat. It didn't matter that hanging out for hours handholding with the patient and family made no medical difference. Nick's
philosophy was to figure out the best medical treatment for a patient, then get out of the way and let it work. He was in the business of practicing medicine, not emotion.

Nick wanted to ask Ry why she hadn't made coffee that morning, but didn't want to “out” her in their living arrangement if she didn't want to be outted. If
she
brought the subject up, he wouldn't mind. All the better to give the impression she was taken.

“Busy weekend.” Gallagher took the plastic wrap off his ham sandwich. There were dark circles under his eyes and deep lines on either side of his nose and mouth.

“Yeah.” And that reminded him. His office manager had called a little while ago, coming down on Nick with a series of problems. It was time to spread the joy. “About Margo—”

“Your office manager.” Ryleigh took a sip of her vegetable soup. “I always liked her.”

“Yeah. The feeling's mutual.” The tiny terror had run his office for the last five years. Fresh out of college with her business degree, she'd impressed him not only with her intelligence, but also the fact that she wasn't afraid of him. “The thing is, Margo's not happy.”

“Margo raises ‘not happy' to an art form. I think she likes not being happy.” Gallagher didn't look intimidated. “Can we talk about the fact that her name,
Margo,
conjures an image of statuesque elegance and sophistication.”

“I see what you mean.” Ryleigh laughed.

“And yet there's nothing statuesque or sophisticated about her. She barely comes up to my shoulder and has the personality of a pit bull. She's like a rose—pretty to look at, but if you get on her bad side, she'll jab you with a thorn when you least expect it.”

Nick couldn't fault his description. “Well, heads-up. She's ready to jab you big time.”

“What have I done now?”

“You're obstructing the office work flow.”

“How?”

“So many reasons…” Nick was enjoying this way too much and felt a little guilty because the other guy was at a disadvantage from lack of sleep. “Here are the top three in random order. You were on call this weekend and she needs the super bills for all the work you did here at the hospital.”

“The paperwork is in the car. I didn't have appointments this morning and was here with a very sick two-year-old.”

“Boy or girl?” Ryleigh asked.

“Boy. He's doing a lot better.” Gallagher met his gaze. “The plan was to turn the billing over to her when I get to the office after lunch.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “Next Margo issue.”

Nick knew he should back off, but couldn't make himself do it. “She needs your dictation notes for your patients. The transcriptionist, and I'm quoting here, ‘had her panties in a twist' when she called.”

“I talked to Connie and promised to drop the information off at her office,” Gallagher calmly said. “I'll smooth it over when I swing by.”

He was probably good at charming women and had an answer for everything, but Nick tended to believe him. He'd had his own issues with the transcriptionist. “I saved the best for last.”

“Okay.”

“Margo said she made it perfectly clear to you that charts are not to be taken out of the office.”

“Yeah. I got the message loud and clear.”

“Not according to Margo. She did five straight minutes on wasting too much time and energy on the great chart
hunt before concluding that you'd broken her cardinal rule and had them with you.”

“As the physician on call, I needed the history on your patients. Why didn't she check with me?”

“You'd have to ask her about it.”

“I will.”

“Good luck with that.” Nick almost felt sorry for him. “She isn't easy.”

“Neither am I. But provoking her on purpose can be pretty interesting.” There was a gleam in his eyes when he looked at Ryleigh. “Looks like I've got loose ends to tie up and the rest of my afternoon is going to get more interesting.”

“Margo is a teddy bear,” she told him. “You'll be fine.”

“Want to come with me and run interference?”

Ryleigh laughed and shook her head. “Margo might be little, but she could take me down.”

“Okay. See you later.” Gallagher stood, then picked up his tray and emptied the trash into a container before threading his way through the tables and out of the cafeteria.

When they were alone, Ryleigh met Nick's gaze. “Margo certainly runs a tight ship. Maybe she gets that from you, Nick.”

“Me?”

“You set that office up. You choreographed the work flow the way you wanted it. One would have to conclude that prolonged exposure to your charm and easygoing style have rubbed off on her.” She struggled unsuccessfully to twist off the cap on her bottle of water.

Nick turned it for her and handed back the bottle. “Was that sarcasm?”

“What was your first clue?” Her brown eyes twinkled with humor.

“Let me guess. You don't really think I'm good-natured and charming?”

“You can be,” she qualified. “But both qualities were missing in action while Carlton was here.”

He was kind of hoping she hadn't noticed that. And since when did she call the guy by his first name? There was no way Nick planned to explain that seeing her with another man had seriously depleted his stockpile of charm. “I was just passing on Margo's message. In fact, believe it or not, my translation took a lot of the sting out of what she said, which makes me pretty darn charming. All in all, I'm a prince of a guy.”

“I think you're in a bad mood and taking it out on him.”

Maybe. The hell of it was, now that they were alone he could almost feel the haze of darkness lifting as he soaked in her fresh-faced beauty, her humor and the sweet sound of her voice.

“What was
your
first clue?” he asked, echoing her question.

“You mean besides the fact that you were taking far too much pleasure in passing on Margo's message?”

“Yeah,” he said, suppressing a grin. “Besides that.”

He realized she knew him pretty well. That wasn't something he'd thought about when they were married, but he did now. Apparently she could see right through his crap. Part of him felt good about that. Part of him—not so much.

“You're packing quite the attitude today, Doctor.”

“Thank you. I take a great deal of pride in that.”

She grinned. “Is this the hell everyone pays when you don't get coffee at home first thing in the morning?”

“Maybe.” This time he couldn't stop the smile that turned up the corners of his mouth. Nick had lost the will to fight almost immediately after the other man left. That's what happened when he was alone with Ryleigh.

He'd forgotten how she could always manage to lift his spirits like this. Something warm and vital shifted in him as he realized how much he'd missed that.

Instantly amusement faded. She was right about him not getting what he wanted to start his day. But it wasn't caffeine that gave him a jolt. Seeing her first thing in the morning fed something gnawing and hungry in his soul.

If he didn't find a way to stop craving it, he would waste away inside when she was gone. He would be everything he'd vowed never to be.

 

To thank Nick for his hospitality at the house, Ryleigh had fallen into the habit of handling the evening meal. She cut up lettuce for a salad and washed two potatoes to microwave while a whole chicken roasted in the oven. Just before leaving him in the cafeteria after lunch this afternoon, he'd told her to plan on him for dinner. But she'd learned while being married to him that his plans almost always changed.

She tried not to let the memories hurt because their lives were separate now; that's what divorce did. But the sting somehow got through her shield. That would go away once she was in a place of her own: another thing she'd learned when they were no longer married. In the meantime, she was grateful to be in his house, as opposed to the hideous hospital-subsidized apartment.

The arrangement wouldn't last much longer. Soon she'd do a pregnancy test and if—no,
when
—it was positive, there wouldn't be any reason to stay.

That thought stung a little, too, but she chalked it up
to how much she still loved this house. It wasn't about the owner. As far as real estate, this place set a high bar and so far nothing she'd seen had compelled her to make an offer, not even the one Nick had urged her to make an offer on. But she wasn't giving up.

Before she turned thirty, she would have a baby and a house. Her life would be complete.

When the front door opened and closed, her heart gave that familiar, excited little skip and she made a vow that when she had a baby and house of her own, it would be enough without the heart skipping.

Nick walked into the kitchen. “Hi.”

“Hey. You're home.” She looked up from the cutting board and smiled.

“You sound surprised.”

“Wasted food is collateral damage to your occupation.” She shrugged. “Being a doctor means that the cook doesn't know whether or not you'll be home for dinner even if told to plan on you.”

Frowning, he walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. “Would you like me to open a bottle of wine?”

“That would be nice.” Again her heart skipped.

She wondered if a bottle of wine would always remind her of the night Nick Damian had pulled out all the stops to set a romantic mood for making a baby. It had been a good night.

Really good.

And a part of her wished it had been real, not just a by-product of his promise to help her have a baby.

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