“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?”
“Th
at’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 e
nough 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.
Marriage by Contract Page 13