She closed her eyes, exhaled slowly. “No. Look, I’ve barely had three hours to think about this. I just need time to work it all out in my mind, okay?”
“So, I should stop pressing.”
She nodded.
“And I shouldn’t have shown up early.”
“No,” she said. “You shouldn’t. You can see I’m not ready.”
He looked her over, from her head to her toes, and then he smiled. “You’re barefoot,” he observed. “You have cute feet.”
“Flattery isn’t going to convince me, either.”
He gave his head a shake and met her eyes again. “Look, I was going to go over to the main house to check on Matthew and Claudia, and I thought you might want to come along. Do you?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Good. And, um…that wasn’t flattery. You really do have cute feet.”
“Right. I think I’ll put some shoes on, anyway, if it’s all the same to you. And I need to be back here by three. I have an, uh, appointment.”
Holden frowned. “A date?”
“Of course not. I need to see someone at the hospital. It won’t take long.”
“So then, you’ll be free for dinner afterward?”
She sighed. “I’ll let you know.”
“Good enough.” He settled into a chair, and Cleo was on his lap a second later. “So, go finish getting ready,” he said, stroking the cat and looking perfectly content to sit and wait.
Holden had certainly put on a good show. Ever the gentleman, anyone would think he was just the opposite of the man she knew him to be. An uncaring womanizer. Instead he seemed friendly, attentive, even kind. His concern for his family…well, that part was real. She had, she realized in surprise, actually enjoyed the time she’d spent with him today. And she adored his mother, Mary Ellen. The woman was everything Lucinda had ever wanted to be. Strong, sure of herself, graceful.
At her doctor’s appointment that afternoon, though, all of those thoughts fled her mind, replaced by one new revelation. One she’d hoped and prayed she would never have to face.
Lucinda sat very still, absorbing the blow. “You’re absolutely sure the ovary is going to have to come out.”
“I’m afraid so,” Karen Flemming replied. “Look, it can wait…a few months, maybe even a year, but not a minute longer. It’s going to have to go, and I wouldn’t push it any further.” She shook her head slowly. “You’ve seen the test results. You can interpret them as well as I can.”
“Yeah.” Lucinda eyed the detestable manila folder and tried to blink back tears.
“It’s for your own health,” Karen went on. “Precancerous cysts are bad in and of themselves, but with your family history….”
“I know. My mother died of ovarian cancer. I’m a doctor, Karen, I know what that means as well as you do.”
Karen nodded slowly. “I know how desperately you want a baby, Lucinda. I suppose if you were to get pregnant right away…”
“Oh, come on, Karen, stop talking to me like I’m a layman. We both know that I only have one ovary, and that cuts my chances of conceiving a child in two. It could take me months to get pregnant, even if I could find a willing man to help out.”
Karen lowered her head. “There’s artificial insemination. You don’t need to wait for a man to start trying. Like you said, you know what you’re looking at here just as well as I do. And I think you also know what advice you would give to one of your patients in this same situation. Don’t you?”
Lucinda looked up slowly. “Yes. I’d tell them to have the ovary removed right away. I’d tell them that to wait too long would be taking an unnecessary risk. I’d tell them to adopt.” She lowered her head. “But, unfortunately, I’m not smart enough to take my own advice.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
Lucinda lifted her chin. “I’m going to get pregnant just as soon as possible. Because the longer I wait, the less chance I’ll have of ever…having a child.”
Karen nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish the news had been better.”
“So do I,” Lucinda said, and she got up from the chair. She was already dressed. She picked up her bag, and turned toward the door.
“Look, if you want to talk about this some more…”
“Yeah. I know. Thanks, Karen.”
Karen nodded, one hand on Lucinda’s shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. She sighed, turned and left the office, stepping into the hospital corridor, responding automatically to the greetings of co-workers as they passed.
Well, this was it, then. Time was running out for her. She needed to conceive a child now. Right away. And the answer…the answer was sitting at home waiting for her call. A man who wanted to marry her for a year. Long enough. It would be long enough.
It’s wrong, some part of her whispered. Wrong to try to use Holden to get pregnant, without even telling him.
And yet, was it really so wrong? If it hadn’t been for Holden Fortune and that one-night stand so long ago, she would have two functioning ovaries, not one. She could have one removed and still retain a chance at motherhood one day. But now…
She stepped into her office, and sank into her chair. She didn’t want to remember, but the memories came anyway. The sudden pains that had left her breathless on the floor. The bleeding that seemed as if it would never stop. The mad rush to the hospital, and the chaos in the ER. And then, waking later from the surgery as a soft-spoken doctor told her what had happened to her.
All because of Holden’s drunken attempt to make his girlfriend jealous.
If she didn’t do something, and soon, she would never have the chance to have a child.
He was attracted to her. She was fairly certain of that. His kiss this morning… Something tingled up her nape and she closed her eyes against it. He was attracted to her. That was all she needed to know. And even though he’d said this…this arrangement would be strictly “hands off,” she knew she could make it otherwise.
Hell, all she’d have to do would be to get him drunk. It had worked once, hadn’t it? It would be poetic justice.
She clamped down her conscience and reached for her telephone, punching in Holden’s number. He picked up on the second ring. “So,” she said without preamble, “are we still on for dinner tonight?”
She could almost hear his smile coming through the line. “You bet we are,” he said. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Five
Lucy was nervous, fidgeting, and drop-dead gorgeous tonight. Holden studied her across the table, candlelight dancing on her face, in her eyes, and he wondered if maybe he had other reasons for choosing her to be his wife. She’d been handy, yes. She’d been in need of something he could give, and, he thought, willing to agree, true enough. But there was more…he was drawn to the woman. He had always been drawn to her. Before, he’d given himself a million reasons to stay away from her. And now it seemed like he was busily concocting just as many reasons why all those reasons no longer applied. First, he’d justified his interest by telling himself she was no longer young and vulnerable and nursing a crush on him. Then he’d decided it would be all right because he’d keep this on the level of a business arrangement, that no feelings would be involved.
But to tell the truth, he was looking forward to being in close proximity to her for the next year or so.
That worried him, though he couldn’t have said why.
She’d barely touched her food.
“Are you going to keep me in suspense all night, Lucy?”
She looked up from what had appeared to be an intense study of the glazed asparagus on her plate. “What?”
“I get the feeling you’ve reached a decision. So, will you tell me what it is?”
She blinked, averted her eyes. “There are…a couple of things I want to say first.”
“Okay.” Holden leaned back in his chair, picked up his wineglass, sipped. And watched her. She had such incredible skin. Like sat
in, coppery and smooth. The candlelight caressed it and danced on it like a kiss.
She drew a breath. “I’m not as well-known as you, Holden, but I do have a career, a reputation to think about.”
He nodded. “A very good reputation, as I understand it.”
“So I wouldn’t want it destroyed. I think you know what I’m talking about.”
He sat up a little, totally lost. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
With a sigh, she took a swallow from her own wineglass. Then dabbed her lips with the napkin. “If we were married and you continued bedding a different woman every night of the week, I—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “Okay. Now I see. You’d want me to be…faithful.”
She nodded. “Or at least…discreet.”
Holden lifted his brows. “Discreet. You mean, you wouldn’t mind my sleeping around as long as it was kept quiet?” He shook his head. “I don’t quite swallow that, Doc. But it’s best we put our cards on the table here and now. Which is it you want? Faithful or discreet?”
She swallowed hard. “Faithful.” She looked away when she said it.
She was amusing to watch when she was embarrassed. He liked the way the color stained her cheeks, the way her eyes danced away from his when he tried to look too deeply. “I can handle that,” he said, speaking slow, watching those eyes. “But I have one concern you probably ought to be aware of.”
“And that is?”
“It would have to go both ways, Lucy. If there’s anyone you’re sleeping with, then you’re going to have to end it.”
Her eyes widened this time before she looked away.
Holden tossed his napkin on the table and got up. He crossed to her and held out a hand. “Let’s dance while we talk, hmm?”
Licking her lips and lifting her chin like a martyr going to the stake, she took his hand, and Holden pulled her into his arms. She was soft against him. Soft, and small, and he liked that.
As he swept her onto the floor, moving slowly, savoring the feel of her perhaps a bit more than was wise, he went on. “The thing is, I like sex. I enjoy it. I’m not addicted to it or anything, but a year of celibacy is going to be a challenge. Still…I can stick to my promise if you can. And if it becomes a problem, I’ll say so. And I’ll expect you to do the same.”
Her voice very soft, very hoarse, she replied, “You mean…if one of us were to decide we wanted to…”
He stopped dancing. Just stood still on the floor, holding her against him, her head on his shoulder. She’d had a couple glasses of wine with dinner. Maybe she got drunk easily. Maybe she was saying things she didn’t mean. But damn, his reaction to his interpretation of those words was almost violent.
He hadn’t realized until that very moment how much he wanted her.
“Have you?”
She said nothing. Holden stepped back just slightly, enough so he could cup her chin and turn her face up to his. Red. She was beet-red.
“No, of course not. I don’t want you to think I’m willing to…to sell myself, sexually, for the sake of this clinic. I’m not.”
“I don’t think that. I know better than that, Lucy.”
She closed her eyes, maybe about to give up on the subject. So Holden decided to help her along. Because if she wanted more than a business arrangement out of this deal then he was going to have to withdraw the offer.
“There is a certain attraction between us. You’ve been aware of that, too, haven’t you?” he asked her.
“You…are attracted to me?”
He smiled just slightly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know? Yeah, Doc. I’m attracted to you.” He took a breath and sighed. “I’m pretty intensely attracted to you.”
“Oh.”
He pulled her closer again, resumed dancing. “So, does knowing that make this easier or harder?” he asked.
“Easier…I guess.”
“Then is it safe to assume you’re attracted to me, too?”
A soft sigh wafted over the sensitive skin of his neck and he involuntarily shivered in pleasure. Damn.
“I pretty much always have been.”
“So it’s good that we get this out of the way, up front. What we intend to do—and more importantly, not to do—about this attraction.”
“I suppose it is.”
“We can’t act on it, Lucy.”
She stiffened just slightly.
“It would mess everything up. This is strictly business between you and me. And, hell, I think we both know it’s only a chemical thing, anyway. I’m the last kind of man you’d ever want to get involved with. And you… You’re the furthest thing from what I’d call my type.”
He felt her head nod against his shoulder. “Yes, I suppose that’s all true.”
“So, can you live with that kind of arrangement? A year of celibacy?”
“It only seems fair,” she said quickly. “I mean, if you can handle it, I certainly can.”
Staring down into those black eyes, he suddenly wasn’t so sure all of this would be as easy as he thought it would. God, he had visions of her naked and willing in his mind already.
“I’ll do it, then,” she told him. “I’ll marry you.”
He wondered why he was suddenly smiling so broadly when he’d only just decided this might not be such a great idea. “When? Pick a date and I’m there. Any kind of wedding you want, the biggest blowout Texas has ever seen if you—”
“No,” she said. She settled her head against his shoulder again and nudged him into motion. “No, nothing like that. Your family is in no state to be worrying about some big event. Besides, I don’t want to wait that long.”
Holden closed his eyes in abject agony. “No,” he whispered. “No, neither do I.”
“Couldn’t we just go to city hall or something?” she asked.
“Yes.” He spread his palms on her back, let her body heat warm them, lowered his head so he could inhale the fragrance of her hair.
“We can do the blood test right at the hospital tomorrow morning. Have the results back in an hour. Then we can get the license. Everything could be ready before noon.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Will that give you time to see your lawyer, get the prenup ready and everything?”
Holden frowned, and again stopped dancing. What was it about her that could make him forget something so vital, so obvious? Without a prenup she could serve twelve months as his wife and walk away with everything he had when it was over. God, hadn’t he learned a thing from his uncle Ryan’s unfortunate marriage to Sophia Barnes?
Then again, Lucy was nothing like Sophia. Not even close.
He blinked down at Lucy, not quite sure he had realized before the full extent of her…her goodness. He wouldn’t ruin her the way his father had ruined his mother. He wouldn’t let himself do that. “I think it will be plenty of time,” he said. “For what I’m paying my lawyer, he can take care of this on short notice.”
She nodded. “We’ll need witnesses.”
“I’ll handle it.”
Drawing a breath, she nodded hard. “Tomorrow afternoon, then? Say, three o’clock, at city hall?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Her smile was shaky, her eyes, never looking head-on into his. The warning bells in his head were getting louder all the time. What the hell had changed between this afternoon and tonight?
He leaned down, and pressed his lips to her forehead to seal the deal. Her tense body relaxed just a little, but he didn’t push his luck. When he lifted his head again, her eyes seemed misty, though it was dim and hard to tell.
All of this change had occurred between the time he’d left her this afternoon and picked her up tonight. Hadn’t she said she had some kind of appointment today? At the hospital?
“Holden?”
He snapped to attention, looked down at her.
“There’s…there’s one more thing you need to know.”
“Is there?”
“Yes
. No matter what else happens between us in the next twelve months…I’m…I’m not going to fall in love with you.”
“You’re not?”
“No. That’s what you’re worried about here, isn’t it? That I’ll start feeling something for you, wanting more than you’re capable of giving? But I’m not a little girl anymore, and my sense of self-preservation is too strong to let me do anything that destructive. So, I won’t be falling in love with you. You don’t need to worry about that.”
He nodded. “Good, Lucy. I’m glad we understand each other.”
She sighed, and seemed to feel better about things. And Holden thought about what she’d said. I’m not going to fall in love with you. And already, something in his heart was telling him he’d never be able to say the same.
Lucinda was rigid and stiff. She was only doing what she had to do, and nice girls finished last, so it was time to don her Leona hat and quit being a wimp. Waiting around for the right man. Waiting and hoping and getting older by the day while her one remaining ovary slowly declared war on her body, and her biological clock ticked down to Ground Zero.
Well, she was done waiting.
She stood in the city hall building in front of Judge Will Schapiro, who’d been perfectly willing to shuffle his schedule to accommodate Holden’s request. Although Holden, apparently, wasn’t quite as generous. He hadn’t shown up yet.
“Good to meet you, Dr. Brightwater,” the judge said, rising, coming around the desk to take her hand briefly. “Just have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Holden should be along any minute now.”
He was a jolly man, hardly looked the part of his “hanging judge” reputation. His plump face, nearly bald head with its whisker-thin coat of white fuzz, and soft blue eyes made him look more like a friendly town minister than a tough-as-nails judge.
She sat in the leather chair in front of his desk as he eyed her. Lucinda got the feeling she was being inspected in some kind of wonder. She wore an off-white skirt with a sleeveless satin blouse of ivory. Her hair was caught up in back, with tendrils framing her face. Pearl drop earrings dangled, cool against her neck. She wore makeup, which was not her usual custom. But she’d wanted to look good today.
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