Hazardous Husband
Christine Scott
To Kristy, my little redhead with a mind of her own.
May your life be filled with love and happiness always.
Bundles of Joy
There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.
—Hodding Carter
Dear Readers,
Babies are irresistible. Whether it be their chubby cheeks or their breath-stealing smiles, something about babies can make even the most resolute woman perk up and listen to the ticking of her biological clock. I speak from experience, having been thrice bitten by the baby lust.
But, alas, even babies grow up. Kevin, my oldest, is now a teenager. Kristy, my own little redhead, is eleven. And Scotty, doomed always to be called the baby of the family, is eight. Now I’ve traded three o’clock feedings, diaper changes and teething for baseball practices, car pools and braces.
I can imagine most women will be able to relate to Lily’s wish to have a baby. After all, one look into a pair of baby blues—real baby blues, that is—can have even the best of us sighing with a maternal desire. I hope you enjoy reading about Lily and Eric’s hazardous road to romance as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.
Just be careful…the baby lust is contagious.
Christine Scott
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Chapter One
“You want me to what?”
Lily Gerard’s heart skipped a beat at the amused sound of his voice. Eric Mitchell stood before her, looking tall and lean. His tanned skin contrasted with the white collar of his dress shirt. Strands of gold, reflecting the color of the Arizona sun, glistened in his dark hair. In the familiar surroundings of his law office, he exuded an aura of confidence. A confidence that she didn’t share.
Lily raised her chin and met his laughing brown eyes. “I said, I want you to father a child for me.”
The spark of amusement died in Eric’s eyes. He sat down hard on the edge of his desk. She watched as the realization that she wasn’t joking settled over him like a fast-moving black cloud.
Though she’d known him for over three years and considered him to be her best friend, she had had no idea how he might react to her proposition. From the stunned look on his face, he wasn’t taking her request well.
He cleared his throat. “Lily, I...um...I’m flattered. But...”
He stared at her.
She felt the heavy measure of his gaze. She was trying hard to prevent herself from squirming in her chair.
Finally, he released a harsh breath. “I don’t know any other way to say this, Lily. My feelings for you are strictly platonic. Not that you aren’t a beautiful woman....” His gaze glided over her. “You are very beautiful. We’ve known each other a long time, but an intimate relationship with you is out of the question.”
The tension slid from her body. With a sigh of relief, Lily collapsed against the back of her chair. “Thank goodness. Believe me, Eric. I feel exactly the same way.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to—”
“Oh, I do want you to father my child. Just not the conventional way.” She reached for her purse, withdrew a white sheet of paper and handed it to him. She settled herself in the chair and waited while he perused the document.
“‘Therapeutic insemination, donor consent form,’” he read aloud. “‘I agree and understand—’” his frown deepened “‘—that the semen specimens I will be donating—’” His mouth closed with a click.
Lily watched with growing unease as he silently scanned the rest of the document. Seconds passed like hours before he looked at her again.
“You want me to be a sperm donor?”
Lily’s throat felt dry. She didn’t trust herself to speak and nodded her answer.
Eric reached across his desk, picked up the phone and punched a button. “Mrs. Hunter,” he said to his secretary. “Hold all calls.” He hung up the phone and turned to Lily. “We need to talk.”
Lily closed her eyes and braced herself against the soothing tone of Eric’s voice. She reminded herself there was a reason Eric was a successful divorce attorney and the majority of his clients were female. He had a gift—the power of persuasion. Or, as her grandmother would say, he could charm the pants off any woman. She couldn’t allow him to change her mind. She wanted this baby.
“What’s going on, Lily?”
Eric’s voice sounded close. Her eyes flew open. He’d moved. He now sat in the companion chair at her side. She felt small next to him. Small, but not easily intimidated. “Nothing’s going on. All I want is a baby.”
“By artificial insemination.”
She stared down at her hands, balled in her lap. “Yes, by artificial insemination.”
“Lily, you’re only twenty-eight years old. You’ve got plenty of time to have a baby. Besides, what’s wrong with the old-fashioned way? Meet a guy, get married, create a baby. Marriage isn’t something I’d recommend for everyone, but for you—”
Marriage? A dull pain thumped in her chest as the word conjured up hurtful memories. She’d met Eric the same time as she’d met David, at a retirement party for one of their co-workers. She was supposed to deliver a cake and leave, but David and Eric convinced her to stay for the party.
Eric’s good looks and charm had caught her eye, but it was David’s stability that won her heart. Instinctively she knew that with Eric a woman could expect a roller-coaster relationship—a thrill a minute, but over in the blink of an eye. David, on the other hand, was a man she could rely on. To him, she wasn’t just the flavor of the month; she was the main course in a meal he would never tire of. Her relationship with David had represented the very thing missing in her life—a sense of permanence.
Despite the fact that they were opposites, David and Eric had been lifetime friends, classmates and then business colleagues. David had had the utmost respect for Eric. When she and David had married, Eric had been the best man.
“Marriage isn’t for me, either,” she said firmly. “I’ve already tried it, remember?”
Eric tossed the donor release form onto his desk. He reached for her hand, squeezing it, warming her with gentle reassurance. “David died, Lily. His death had nothing to do with your marriage.”
“Our marriage had everything to do with David’s death.” She snatched her hand away. “I killed him, Eric. I killed David.”
* * *
Eric felt as though the air had been knocked out of him and Lily had dealt the blow. He stared at her for a full minute, unsure what to say.
When David had died, Lily had withdrawn into a protective shell, pushing away Eric and everyone who cared about her. But in the past year or so, Eric had caught a glimmer of the old Lily, the spitfire of life whom he’d grown fond of. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if all the progress she’d made had been just a facade, if she were still protecting herself from the pain of David’s death.
“Lily, David died in a plane crash,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You were hundreds of miles away. There’s no way you could have killed him.”
Stark green eyes riveted him. “As surely as if I’d had a gun and shot him, I killed him. I should never have married David. My mother, my grandmother—they both warned me. They told me what would happen if I did.” She shook her head. “But I thou
ght it was just the imaginings of eccentric women. I should have known it was the truth.”
“Lily, you aren’t making sense.” A hint of exasperation touched his voice. “What was the truth?”
She blinked. “The curse, of course.”
She was in worse shape than he’d thought. Lily was totally unhinged. “Curse?”
“I’m not crazy, Eric,” she said, laughing as though she’d read his mind.
He felt his face warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t say you were.”
“No, but you were thinking it.” A smile lingered. “Don’t worry, Eric. It’s taken me years to finally accept the curse.”
Frustrated, he fell back into his chair. He placed an elbow on the armrest, leaned his chin on an upturned palm and studied her. Petite. Though they were just friends, he wasn’t blind to the eye-pleasing way her sky-blue sundress hugged the curves of her body. Dark, auburn hair curled about her shoulders. A flawless, creamy-white complexion. Dimples that danced in her cheeks when she smiled. Yep, she was the same woman who’d walked into his office unexpectedly half an hour ago and asked to talk to him about an urgent matter. Eric just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was seeing her for the first time.
When David died, Eric had made it a point to visit Lily at least once a week. At first these visits had been a matter of obligation, an obligation he’d felt to his best friend’s widow. But after three years he continued the visits because of the friendship that had evolved between them.
He felt closer to Lily than any woman he’d ever known. Which was why he was shocked. He’d had no warning. No inkling that Lily was still so deeply troubled by David’s death.
He took a deep breath. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but what exactly is this curse?”
Lily folded her hands in her lap and straightened her shoulders. Eric fought the urge to smile. She looked as though she were a student preparing for a recitation.
“You’ve met my family.”
“A couple of times. At the wedding.” He swallowed hard. “And the funeral.”
“Didn’t you notice anything different about them?”
He tried to picture Lily’s family in his mind. Let’s see, there was her grandmother, a nice blue-haired lady with an age-wizened face. Her mother, who had reddish hair like Lily and was pretty for her age. He couldn’t honestly say he knew either woman well. Before he’d met Lily, her mother had retired from teaching at ASU and had moved to Sedona, taking Lily’s grandmother with her. She was an artist, a sculptor, he believed—which wasn’t exactly a conventional career, but not unusual. Eric frowned. Lily’s family seemed like most others, concerned for one of their own.
“They seemed nice enough,” he said. “They seemed...normal.”
“Eric, there are no men in my family.”
“No men?” He almost smiled again. “What are you trying to tell me, Lily? You were all conceived by artificial means?”
“No, we were not.” She drew herself up tall, a picture of indignation. “We were all conceived in the natural way. Listen carefully, Eric. My grandfather died four months before my mother was born. A farming accident. Nana never remarried. My father crossed the street and was hit by a bus three days before I was born. My mother never remarried.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “See a trend here?”
He rose to his feet. After he’d walked to the wall of windows overlooking downtown Phoenix, Eric stared at the mirage of buildings shimmering in the desert sun. He pressed a palm to the sun-warmed glass and tried to make sense of Lily’s story.
Lily wanted a child. Whether he agreed to be the father was beside the point. The problem, as he saw it, was that Lily had never gotten over David’s death.
He understood how hard it was to lose someone you loved. His own father had died when Eric was ten years old. Though the pain had faded, not a day went by that he didn’t miss his dad. The tips of his fingers slid across the smooth glass as he fisted his hand.
Yes, he could understand Lily’s suffering. But he also knew the time had come for her to put the suffering aside and get on with her life.
He turned to Lily. “What happened to David and your father and even your grandfather is just a coincidence.”
Now it was her turn to give him a disbelieving look. “Every man who’s married into my family has dropped dead within the first year of marriage. You call that a coincidence?”
He threw his hands up. “Okay, bad luck.”
“Bad luck, humph.” She crossed her arms. “Face it, Eric. The women in my family are black widows. Whether it’s intentional or not, we kill off our mates. I don’t want to marry and bury another husband just to have a baby.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
Her eyes narrowed. One pump-clad foot tapped a warning beat on the floor.
He’d roused Lily’s famous temper. But it was too late to turn back. He had to make her see reason. “You’re blaming yourself for David’s death because you’re afraid to get on with your life.”
Lily stiffened. “Let’s talk about blame, Eric. How about the business trip David took to Los Angeles? The one he took for you, Eric? The one that crashed? You were supposed to be on that plane.”
A weight of pain pressed against his chest. He drew in a shaky breath. “Are you blaming me for David’s death?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. But you blame yourself. Don’t you think I know the real reason you’ve been such a good friend to me these past few years? Guilt has a nasty way of making us see to our obligations.”
A thick silence filled the air between them. The steady buzz of his intercom broke the tension. Eric strode to the desk, glad for the interruption. He picked up the phone. “Yes, Mrs. Hunter.”
“You’re due in court in twenty minutes, Eric,” Mrs. Hunter said.
He flicked the sleeve of his shirt and glanced at his gold watch. “Right, I’ll be leaving shortly.”
He heard the whisper of silk as Lily uncrossed her legs and stood. Slowly he returned the phone to its cradle and faced her.
Her expression grim, she met his gaze. “If you agree to be a sperm donor, there’ll be no obligations, financially or personally. I’m giving you a chance to clean the slate. I wouldn’t be asking you to do this for me if it wasn’t important. Will you at least think it over?”
“Of course I will. Lily, I don’t want you to think—”
“Look, we’ve said enough for one day. You’re busy, and I need to get back to the bakery. Call me when you’ve made a decision.” With a swing of her auburn hair, Lily left his office.
Eric sank into the leather chair behind his desk and reached for the donor release form. No obligations. Bull. This agreement reeked with obligations. Of all the men in Phoenix, why did Lily have to ask him?
As far as he could see, this was a no-win situation. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. If this were a case, he’d cut his losses and try to settle out of court. Except the stakes in this case were too high. His friendship with Lily was on the line.
* * *
“As far as decadent pleasures go, I think this one rates right up there at the top,” Lily said, sighing.
A murmur of agreement sounded in Lily’s bakery, The Finishing Touch.
“Don’t rush. There’s plenty of time,” she said. “I want you to enjoy it.”
Lily plunged her fork into another bite of her famous Sinfully Delicious Devil’s Food Cake. The two women sitting across from her did the same. They were seated at a table in the corner of the bakery, which she had dubbed the Wedding Alcove.
A round archway separated the tiny alcove from the rest of the bakery. Decorated with white wicker furnishings, pink-and-green floral cushions and a background of lush, green plants, it was a place where her clients could shop for their wedding cakes in relative privacy.
Lily felt a familiar rush of pride as she glanced around the place. She loved to create beautiful things. When she was a child, her mother—a talented artist in her ow
n right—put a crayon in Lily’s hand, gave her a sheet of paper and allowed her to indulge her creative urges. It hadn’t taken long for either of them to realize she’d inherited her mother’s talent.
Rather than follow in her mother’s footsteps, she’d forged her own artistic path. After graduating from college with a degree in fine arts, Lily took a job as an apprentice decorator at a local bakery. Instead of pen and paper as her tools for design, she used cakes and icing. Each cake she created was unique, as much a work of art as any painting or sculpture.
David’s death had prompted her to open her own bakery. She’d hoped the demands of running a business would keep her too busy to dwell on her loss. For the most part, this had proved true. But the bakery provided much more than an escape from grief. It involved her in two things missing in her life—love and marriage.
She would be lying if she said she didn’t long for the chance to love again, to share her life with one special man. However, she’d accepted the fact that she could never marry again. Regret rippled through her, tightening her chest with its familiar pain. She knew in her heart she wasn’t strong enough to risk falling in love, only to lose another husband as she’d lost David.
“Mrs. Gerard, this is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten.” The thin young woman with blond hair cooed her appreciation, pulling Lily out of her reverie. “Momma, I just have to have it for the groom’s cake.”
Momma swallowed a mouthful of cake and threw a skeptical glance in her daughter’s direction. “But, baby, it’s chocolate. You can’t have chocolate icing on a wedding cake.”
“Trust me, this cake tastes just as good with white icing as it does with chocolate,” Lily said.
Momma’s eyes narrowed. “Can you match it to the bridesmaids’ dresses? They’re lavender-and-white striped.”
“No problem.” With a confident smile, Lily reached for the book that pictured samples of her wedding cakes. The Finishing Touch logo was inscribed on the front cover. She flicked through the pages. “Here, this is a cake I did last spring. I call it Lavender and Lace.”
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