Doctor's Orders Box Set (Babies in the Bargain, Right Name, Wrong Man, No More Lies)

by Risk, Mona

  “You went to college at UC?”

  Olivia glanced at Luc. His legs crossed, he sat straight in his chair, the all-professional shrink, asking questions, seeking answers he already knew just to analyze her expressions when she talked.

  “Nope. They were suffocating me with love and attention. I wanted my freedom.” She groaned and pursed her lips, appalled by the ungratefulness of her youth. Her parents had protected her, but all she’d done was run away. “Lord, I hope Melissa doesn’t feel the same.”

  His expression controlled, Luc fixed her with a penetrating gaze. “We will save the comments for later. Concentrate on your story. What did you do next?”

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I joined Northwestern premed.” She’d never told Luc she’d lived in Chicago. One more thing that belonged to the nightmarish past. “Dad was very proud. Mom cried when I left. The day after I arrived at Northwestern, I met—” She paused unable to pronounce the loathsome name and squinted, seeking comfort. Luc reached over and squeezed her hand.

  “You met Jeremy Rutherford. What was he like?”

  She exhaled and closed her eyes. The picture in the folder flitted in her mind. “Handsome, funny, attractive. I was young and naive, like all the girls competing to be noticed by the dashing senior.” She blinked, overwhelmed by her own folly. “After a month, he came to talk to me in the cafeteria and invited me to a party in his apartment.” She threw a glance at Luc. Would he still respect after hearing the sordid details?

  “How did you feel about it?” His eyes narrowed, Luc uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

  “I was thrilled.” She shook her head. “Can you believe I was so stupid?”

  “What happened at the party?” he asked.

  “Everyone was drinking. Not beer. Heavy stuff. I was eighteen, underage, but I was so proud to be treated like a grownup. Somehow I ended up in bed with him. My first time.” She chewed on her lips and suppressed a gag as Jeremy’s alcohol-tinged breath invaded her memory. How could she have found it exhilarating at the time? She scrunched her nose in disgust.

  “How did you feel about it?” Luc’s strangled breathing reached her, almost as loud as his words.

  She knew the basic question of psychiatric diagnosis. How did you feel about it? Luc would ask it over and over again. But she wondered if hearing the answer would hurt him. She spared him a glance.

  Nothing betrayed his feelings. Not a blink of the eyes, not a deeper crease in his frown. But he was flicking his pen between his fingers.

  “I fell in love with him right away and moved in with him a week later. How naïve could a girl be?” Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp as she thought about Melissa. Would her daughter follow in her footsteps?

  “Leave Melissa out of it. Concentrate on yourself.”

  Luc must have guessed her thoughts. He had an uncanny knack for reading his patients.

  “How did you feel when you moved in with him?”

  “At first I was so proud to be with this popular guy. But I had a hard time studying at his place. Too noisy with the music and the partying. And I hated lying to my parents who thought I was still living in the dorm. My first semester grades were a disaster, but I couldn’t stay away from him.”

  She slouched into her chair with a sigh. Guilt needled her. Guilt about her parents, her daughter, and Luc, who listened stoically to details that probably offended him. She’d moved in with a jerk in the blink of an eye but later rejected the man who loved her.

  “When did things deteriorate?” Luc asked with a calm, almost soft tone of voice.

  “Luc, I can’t continue.” She glanced at him. His eyes fixed on her, he studied her impassively. “There are things I can’t tell you. Especially you.” Covering her face with her hands, she rubbed her forehead, hoping to ease the tension that drummed against her temples.

  “I am a psychiatrist, Olivia. I have heard it all.” His fingers unclasped hers hands from her face and gently moved them to her lap.

  “But I will lose your respect. I can’t afford that.” She clasped her fingers. Her nervousness escalated. Anxiety, shame, guilt played a scary dance in her heart. Was this how her patients felt when pouring out their souls in her office?

  “Never, chérie. We have all made mistakes in our lives.” Cupping her chin, he tilted her head toward him. “I am not here to judge. Just to help you assess your feelings.”

  She wanted to hug him and thank him for his kindness. He dropped his hands and resumed his professional attitude. She sighed. Since she’d started, she might as well finish.

  “After three months, he said I didn’t excite him anymore, but his friend was interested. I said no. He was rude and said I was a stupid kid. I cried, then threw up and was sick. He left me in peace. But after that, things changed. He’d sleep with me, then bully me. In a way, I was addicted to him. I stayed, hoping he’d change and love me again.”

  She scanned Luc’s face, searching for a sign of disparagement. His features remained blank, but a tic played in his jaw. He leaned toward her and patted her hand.

  “When did you find out you were pregnant?”

  “A month later. I thought Jeremy would be happy to have a baby, and we’d get married right away.” She stifled a grunt of disgust. Stupid, naïve girl.

  “But he wasn’t.”

  “He slapped me and told me I did it on purpose to trap him. Then he said he would forgive me if I got rid of it.” The words lumped in her throat as she recalled the fury in Jeremy’s eyes. Get rid of her baby. Her beautiful Melissa. She stroked her cheek, still feeling the sting of his slap. A wave of humiliation burned her face. “He gave me money and the address of a doctor who had helped his girlfriends before.”

  “Did you go?”

  “I couldn’t. At home I was brought up with respect for life.” She lowered her eyelids with a murmur of thanks to her parents. Without their moral code, she might have given in and lost her child. “When he found out I didn’t go to his doctor—” She choked unable to continue.

  “What did he do?” Luc touched her shoulder. “Olivia, can you continue, or would you like to stop now?”

  Olivia tried to control her erratic breathing. “He slapped me again and again.” She squeezed her eyes shut. It was awful telling Luc these things she’d kept hidden for so long. “I had to protect my baby. I doubled over when he raised a fist.”

  The terrible memories flooded her mind. “He punched my head, knocked me down and kept hitting my back.” She hugged herself and rocked as the words tumbled from her mouth.

  “When I remained crouched on the floor, wrapped over myself like a ball, he pulled me by my hair, dragged me to the door, and opened it. Then he took the money from my purse and threw it in my face, yelling for me to go to hell. He shoved me out, and I started walking in the snow.” She laced her fingers in her lap to keep them from shaking as she fastened her gaze on Luc.

  “What do you mean in the snow?”

  His blue eyes flared with a dangerous glint. The pen clutched in his hands snapped into two pieces. She cringed at his expression. If Jeremy were here at this moment, Luc would have knocked him down.

  “There was a snowstorm that night. I kept walking, trying to reach the school. I fell.” Her throat constricted, the terrible night playing in her mind like a horror movie. “I thought about my parents. Asked for their forgiveness and prayed for a miracle.” She swallowed, and tears wet her cheeks.

  Luc leaned toward her. With the tips of his finger, he wiped the moisture. “I’m sorry, chérie. I’m so sorry.”

  In spite of her emotion, she almost smiled. Luc had lost his objectivity. She grabbed his hand, willing him to forget the past and kiss her. Now. She needed his lips and his strength like a healing balm to soothe her pain. Very gently, he pushed her back into her chair.

  She tilted her head and lowered her eyelashes, her clasped hands squeezed between her trembling knees. “A car stopped, and a man and his wife came over to help me up. T
hey took me to their house and told me to call my mom. That man was Tony.”

  Luc frowned. “Dr. Burke?”

  “Yes. I owe him big time. My parents became good friends with him. When he lost his wife to cancer a few years ago, I encouraged him to apply to CUH.”

  “I see.” Luc scowled and fixed his pad. “I thought...”

  “I know. He’s a good man. He’s had his share of suffering.”

  Luc’s gaze rested on her and he nodded. “I guess you help each other. A sort of big brother?”

  She almost smiled at the relief underlying his question. “My best friend.” She wouldn’t elaborate, but the digression helped her collect herself. She inhaled, glad to be done with the harsh recollection.

  Luc raked his hair, messing the dark strands, and then smoothed them with the palm of his hand. “Back to your story.”

  “My parents brought me home and helped me. They raised Melissa while I went to UC and got my degrees. I never went back to Chicago.”

  “And Melissa still lives with your parents. Yes?”

  “With my mother. My father died two years ago. I thought about bringing her with me when I got an attending position, but I worked long hours and night shifts. It didn’t seem fair to leave her with babysitters. I visit several times a week. It’s only an hour’s drive.”

  “So that’s where you disappeared on weekends when we were together. You can’t believe how jealous I was when you said you had other commitments.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “Having trouble remaining detached from the case, Dr. Luc?” The psychiatrist in her couldn’t help the sarcastic comment. “Now, you know firsthand why we can’t treat relatives or friends.”

  “Touché.” He chuckled and blew her a kiss. “I promise to do better from now on, Dr. Crane. You are too good a psychiatrist for me to indulge in such a mistake.”

  She sighed and relaxed.

  Luc jotted more notes on his notepad. “How old was Melissa when she first asked about her dad?”

  “Five.”

  “Why didn’t you gently explain that her mommy had left her daddy because he had problems?”

  “When she asked me if her daddy had died at war like her friend’s dad, I thought the story of a war-hero father was a protection against her real father.”

  Until recently. Olivia bit her lip as she remembered her rude awakening at today’s lunch. Melissa longing for a picture of her father so badly. Oh God.

  “Olivia, he didn’t even know he had a child. He probably forgot about you. Why were you so scared when Melissa was a little girl?”

  “I heard from him. Just before you left for France.” She swallowed hard, fear still clear in her memory.

  “You did?” He cradled her hand, to protect her against the invisible but omnipotent bastard.

  “He met the only friend I still had in Chicago and started talking about the past. He suddenly turned sentimental, asked about me and wanted an address. She told him she lost track of me years ago. But it scared me enough to keep hiding Melissa.”

  “And enough to tell me you didn’t want to see me anymore, right?” He arched an ominous eyebrow.

  “Hey, you’re not objective now.”

  “Sorry. I keep forgetting my patient is an expert psychiatrist.” He smiled. “How do you feel about Jeremy now?”

  “What a question! I hate him. I want him to pay for the hurt he’d caused me and many other women apparently.”

  “Are you still afraid of him?”

  “I love my daughter. He can hurt me through Melissa.” Her foot tapped at the carpet in a jerky motion.

  “Olivia, he can’t take her away from you. She is too old for that, and you are a successful psychiatrist, not a naïve young girl. You can’t be afraid of Jeremy now.”

  It was true. She was a dedicated doctor, a prominent university professor with a well-established career. And yet her heart still pounded at the mention of Jeremy’s name.

  “Olivia, what are you really afraid of?”

  “Stop repeating that question. You’re getting on my nerves.”

  “You have not answered yet. Are you afraid of hurting Melissa?”

  “Yes. When I tell her the truth, in a way I’ll be killing the father she adores. Can you imagine her disappointment? How can I tell her he didn’t want her? She may even think I kept my baby and took care of her out of duty, not love. Oh Luc, she’ll feel rejected, unwanted.”

  “I know it may hurt her, but we will help her.”

  “We?” Frustration raged inside her. She bit her lip not to tell him he didn’t know the ABCs of parenthood.

  “Yes, I won’t let you do it alone.” His eyes shone with sincerity.

  He’d lost a son and treated others’ children, but he’d never raised a child, coped with the daily problems.

  Would a real father hurt his daughter in the name of the truth? She snorted. The real father had tried to get rid of his daughter. Even without personal experience, Luc was by far a better example of fatherhood than any man she knew.

  “We may create new problems. Do you think she’ll be able to stand the sight of a man after that? Remember some of your cases. Don’t you think the truth will make her doubt the sincerity of any young man she meets?”

  “With good therapy, she can get over it. I am confident we can help her. How about you, Olivia? Are you afraid of losing Melissa’s love?”

  Tears pooled in her eyes and clogged her throat. “She’s all I have, Luc.” He reached over and smoothed her hair. “I can’t afford to lose her. She won’t forgive me. How can I take that risk?”

  “You are a strong woman.”

  “You can’t understand. I...” She stood and turned away from him, unable to continue her sentence. She’d given up on personal relationships years ago to surround Melissa with love, an exclusive affection so strong her daughter wouldn’t miss a father’s presence.

  “Chérie, don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  She threw a glance of regret at Luc. He straightened and gathered her in his arms. She dropped her forehead on his shoulder, and he pressed her against his hard body. With gentle strokes on her back, he eased the stiffness in her muscles but didn’t try to kiss her.

  An uncontrollable longing built in her heart. She shuddered, wanting to be loved, held and protected. Yes, protected even from herself. Happiness was an impossible dream as long Melissa was still too young to accept the past without suffering.

  Olivia had sacrificed so much to make up for the mistakes of her youth. For how long would she have to forgo her own happiness for her duty toward Melissa?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Olivia loved her mother to death, but at the moment she wanted to scream her frustration at her beaming Mama. It was obvious Marianna Crane had fallen in love with Luc the moment she’d seen him, or more precisely at the very minute he bent over and kissed the back of her hand with an “Enchanté, madame.”

  “I’m delighted to meet you, Luc. Please have a seat. Where have I put my glasses? Melissa, bring the tray of hors d’oeuvres from the kitchen. Olivia, can you serve the drinks? Luc, what can I get you?”

  Mama bustled with energy, the way she always did before starting a new project. Seeing her fussing around Luc, Olivia was afraid to guess the name of the new project—her mother’s ongoing goal.

  But Olivia was too tired to protest or interfere. Two hours ago, when she’d voiced her panic at the possibility of losing Melissa’s love, Luc had cut short their session. He’d told her she needed to relax now that she’d exteriorized her real fear. They’d continue next week. Olivia had been so exhausted, she’d let Luc drive them in her van.

  “May I help with the drinks?” Luc offered.

  “Of course. Make yourself at home,” Mama purred.

  Dropping onto one of the overstuffed chairs of the old-fashioned living room, Olivia rested a moment. She liked coming home to her mother’s. The warm aroma of potpourri soothed her rattled nerves. Tonight, the garlic and nutmeg smell o
f Mama’s masterpiece roast emanated from the kitchen. Her mother had sharpened her tools to conquer their guest.

  Olivia recognized the symptoms. Good dinner, good drinks, good stories. Luc wasn’t going to leave unscathed tonight, not when her mother wanted Luc’s heart for her daughter.

  Mama turned toward her. Eyes narrowed, she signaled to Olivia to follow her into the office. “I need you for a second,” Marianna ordered with a you-failed-big-time look.

  Olivia braced herself for the worst.

  As soon as they stepped into the office, Mama closed the glass double doors behind her, spun around to face Olivia and pointed to the door. “This Luc, is he the French boy you dated when you were in med school?”

  Mama’s scowl promised her lecture was going to be worse than Olivia had expected.

  “The one you never wanted to bring home to meet your mama and dad?” Marianna propped her fists on her hips.

  Olivia took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes.” It would be a long discussion, all right.

  “And you sent him packing? And you let us believe he was no good? Olivia, are you crazy or what?” Marianna snatched a chocolate from a crystal bowl and popped it into her mouth.

  “Mom!” Olivia scowled and took a step toward the door.

  “Oh no. I have to tell you what I think. Madonna mia, you are a great doctor, but as a smart woman...phht.” Her mother cut the air with her hand. “Any uneducated Italian girl would know that when she meets such a handsome, nice, good-mannered...” Her mother paused for a second to catch her breath and launched again. “Intelligent, famous, wealthy...” She stopped, at a loss for adjectives, and glanced toward the living room for more inspiration.

  “Mom, I get your point.”

  “I’m not finished. He came back. Now you have a second chance. Don’t lose it, girl. For once, listen to your mother and keep him. You understand, Olivia?” Mama threw another chocolate into her mouth, chewed on it and then clucked her tongue.

  “I understand, Mama. But you have it wrong. I don’t think Luc wants to get married, and I’m not ready. I need to see Melissa settled first.”

  Her mother flung her hands in the air. “Santa Maria, help me. Not ready? At thirty-five? You want to wait until you’re fifty? And sixty pounds overweight like me? Since when does the daughter marry before her mother?”