The Would-Be Daddy. Jacqueline Diamond
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Название: The Would-Be Daddy

Автор: Jacqueline Diamond

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish

isbn: 9781474040716

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ you’re the expert on psychology, but you shouldn’t put yourself down.”

      “Where’s this coming from?” Franca asked.

      “From...” He broke off. In college, he’d been aware that Franca felt eclipsed by her stunning roommate. But he’d been in no position to explain that whenever he was around her, Belle faded. Nor did he wish to bring it up now.

      Fundamentally, nothing had changed. Marshall had recognized from the start that his attraction to Franca was destructive. They were opposites who disagreed on many important topics, and whenever they were together for long, their arguments brought out the worst in each other.

      “Never mind,” he said. “I shouldn’t have spoken.”

      “Actually, you’re right,” she responded. “I was indulging in either self-pity or false modesty.”

      “Nothing about you is false.” That skated too close to flattery for Marshall’s taste. He decided on a quick exit. “Good luck with your patterns.”

      “Happy bear hunting.”

      “Thanks.”

      Before he could escape, Jennifer Martin turned from the counter and cried, “I remember!”

      “Remember what?” Franca asked.

      “I’ll leave you two to chat.” Marshall started to retreat.

      “Wait, Dr. Davis!” Jennifer protested. “This concerns you.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “I have an idea for a new therapy group,” Jennifer burst out. “For men undergoing fertility treatments. How perfect if the pair of you ran it as a team!”

      Teaming up with Franca to plumb patients’ emotions? The concept struck him as anything but perfect. “I’m not a counselor,” Marshall said. “Dr. Brightman is well qualified to lead such a group.”

      “Men might hesitate to talk freely with a woman,” Jennifer said. “Also, while she’s a counselor, you have medical expertise. You’d be a great team.”

      “She has a point,” Franca conceded.

      “Any male urologist would do.” That was the best argument that came to mind. “Preferably one who has better people skills than mine.”

      “Such as who?” Jennifer demanded.

      Marshall’s mind skimmed over the urology staff. The head of the department, Dr. Cole Rattigan, had no spare time, since he and his wife were juggling fifteen-month-old triplets. Marshall’s suitemates were even newer to the hospital than he was and still honing their surgical skills under his supervision. It seemed wrong to pressure them into the job.

      So how did he get out of this?

      * * *

      FRANCA SYMPATHIZED WITH Marshall’s deer-in-the-headlights reaction. However, she couldn’t dispute Jennifer’s reasoning.

      “It’s worth considering,” she said. “Dr. Davis and I will discuss it.”

      “Great!” Jennifer said. “Okay if I mention it to Mark?” Dr. Mark Rayburn was the hospital administrator. “Oh, and Cole, too?”

      “What’s the rush?” Marshall asked irritably.

      “Things are slow after the holidays. There’s not a lot happening in March. I’d love to publicize a new therapy group in the newsletter,” Jennifer explained.

      “Give us a chance to consider how we might organize it and whether it fits into Dr. Davis’s schedule,” Franca said firmly. “Nice to see you and Rosalie.”

      “Nice to see you, too.” To the obvious relief of her daughter, who was hopping up and down, the PR director departed.

      “She doesn’t take no for an answer, does she?” Marshall growled.

      “She’s not usually pushy,” Franca assured him. “But if we don’t want this foisted on us willy-nilly, we’d better present a united front.”

      His jaw twitched as if he were about to dismiss the notion entirely. But Ada was observing them from the counter, and other voices were approaching from outside. “Let’s finish shopping and meet elsewhere to resolve this.”

      “Good idea.” Not at her apartment, and Franca wasn’t about to suggest his place. “How about the Sea Star Café down by the harbor? I haven’t had lunch.”

      “Is that still there?” Like Franca, Marshall had grown up in inland Orange County, but must have visited the harbor town over the years. “Yes, I’m hungry, too.”

      Into the shop surged a couple of women shepherding children.

      “See you there,” she said.

      “Done.” He drew himself up to his full, rather impressive height. “Let’s get this squared away before it blows up in our faces.”

      Would it be so terrible for them to coordinate a weekly group? she wondered, watching him move deeper into the store. Surely they could maintain a professional distance, despite her awareness of him as a man. And despite his disappointment in her new hair color. The picky comment reminded Franca of how exacting Marshall could be.

      Franca flipped through the catalog and selected half a dozen patterns with adjustable fastenings, easy to remove for washing. After writing the pattern numbers on a notepad, she handed it to Ada.

      The shopkeeper promised to order them that day. “I’ll text you when they come in.”

      “Great.”

      In an angled wall mirror, Franca spotted Marshall in the next room, lifting a formally dressed bear for inspection. Yearning transformed his face as he fingered the soft fur.

      With a start, she recognized that look. She’d seen it on the face of her older sister, Gail, when one of their cousins had brought her baby to a family gathering. Gail had been devastated by repeated miscarriages.

      Was Marshall eager to be a father? Perhaps Belle’s wedding photo had reminded him of how much he’d thrown away. But whatever promptings he experienced toward parenthood, Franca doubted he’d understand her torment over losing Jazz.

      Marshall had made it clear long ago that he saw no reason to “invite trouble,” as he put it, from a foster child. For him, fatherhood meant a traditional home with two or three genetic children.

      To Franca, motherhood meant loving children regardless of their origins. Despite growing up in a happy household with a psychologist father and a devoted mother, she’d had an immediate bond with the neglected and abused youngsters she’d met as a teen volunteer, along with a sense of destiny. In her twenties, she’d gone through the process to qualify as a foster mom. After caring for several youngsters, she’d given her heart to Jazz.

      She had no desire to return to her lonely apartment. In contrast, eating lunch with Marshall didn’t seem so bad.

      Reminded СКАЧАТЬ