The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / The Texas Billionaire's Baby. Susan Crosby

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СКАЧАТЬ “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

      Valentine’s—Damn. “Oh, uh, same to you,” he said, but the door had already closed behind her.

      Damn. Once again he’d screwed up. He glanced at his watch. He’d intended to leave more than an hour ago to buy a gift. Aside from the traditional, uncreative grocery-store offerings, what could he buy? When he’d lived in San Francisco he’d gotten away with having something sent, but Boston was home. He didn’t have that excuse anymore. He needed to take a personal gift this time, something thoughtful.

      From the lab window he spotted Lisa outside standing next to Sara Beth, hugging her helmet and laughing, looking much more carefree than the Sara Beth who’d just left his lab.

      He went still. Thoughts swirled. A plan formed. She might be of some help.…

      Ted locked his computer, tossed his lab coat toward a hook, then raced out of the building as Lisa drove off. He encountered Sara Beth as she was buckling her helmet. Her face registered surprise—and a little wariness—as he descended on her.

      “I know we barely know each other,” he said. “But hear me out, please.”

      “Okay.” The word came out slowly, curiously.

      “This is the first time I’ve been home for Valentine’s Day since I graduated from high school.”

      “Boston is home?”

      He just nodded. “I’m supposed to be at my parents’ house in forty-five minutes for dinner. I need to take a gift.”

      “I’m sure you’ll be able to find roses at almost any market.”

      “And my mother would say ‘how lovely’ and that would be that. I want to do better than that. I want you to be my parents’ gift.”

      Her big brown eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

      He was pretty sure if she hadn’t been straddling her bike, she would’ve taken a few steps back, deciding he was a mad scientist.

      “If they think I’m dating someone, it’ll make them happier than anything I could buy.” He stopped short of begging, but appealed to the female tendency to nurture. “I know I’m asking an enormous favor. I know there’s no reason for you to say yes. You may—you probably do have a date already.”

      Of course she would have plans, an attractive woman like her. He felt ridiculous now for asking.

      “There’s not enough time,” she said finally, gesturing to her bike. “I would have to ride home and get myself ready.”

      “We’re not formal. I’m wearing what I have on, just adding a sport coat.”

      She gave him a skeptical look.

      He nodded toward his car. “I’ve got a bike rack.”

      Fifteen minutes later he pulled up in front of her beautiful old Victorian house, said he’d find a place to park, then come back with her bike, giving her no more time to answer than he had in the parking lot, not allowing her any opportunity to say no.

      He understood now the expression about someone having a deer-in-the-headlights look. She mumbled something about how to get to her second-floor apartment, then headed toward the house.

      He got lucky, coming across a car leaving just a block away. He hauled her bike to her place, where the front door was ajar. He climbed the stairs inside to her unit, where her door hung open.

      “Where do you want this?” he asked, rolling her bike inside.

      She pointed to an empty spot in the living room. “I’ll hurry.”

      She rushed into a room down the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

      Ted glanced around her living room. The house was probably built around the turn of the twentieth century, but had been remodeled recently, although still using original-looking hardwood floors, and an up-to-date kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. And yet the combined living room/dining area/kitchen space was also feminine. Flowers and pottery and bright colors and… comfort. Her furniture was built for sinking into, and looked inviting.

      One of these days he would get around to buying his own sofa.

      She had a nice view of the street. Most of the houses were from the same era, some better taken care of than others. She lived only blocks from the Red Line. She could take the subway or a bus to work, the bus being more practical—

      What if he factored in twice as much of the primary enzyme …?

      Ted grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her kitchen counter, sat down and started making notes, getting lost in a possibility he hadn’t considered before. Later—and he had no idea how much later—he felt a tap on his shoulder.

      He lifted his head so sharply he knocked into her. She yelped, fell back, grabbed her chin. He caught her by the arm to keep her from falling, the back of his hand accidentally pressing into her breast, her firm breast, surprisingly full for such a petite woman.

      He let go. She steadied herself, repeatedly rubbing her chin, her cheeks flushing a little, too.

      “I apologize, Sara Beth.” He gestured toward the three pieces of paper he’d been using to capture his thoughts. “I didn’t hear you. Are you all right? May I take a look?”

      “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

      “I am a doctor, you know.”

      “And I know nothing about medicine?”

      He smiled at the teasing tone in her voice, ran his thumb over her chin. “Move your jaw.” Her lemon-scented perfume made his nose twitch and drew him closer. “Everything feel normal?”

      “I’m fine. Really.” She stepped back, and he finally got a full picture of her. Basic black dress, with long sleeves, the neckline not too low or too high, a gold locket, her hair down and curled, high heels that gave her a few inches extra height, which was probably why he’d banged directly into her chin.

      “You look nice,” he said, an understatement.

      “Thank you.” She frowned slightly. “Are you sure we can pull this off? It’s kind of hard to pretend we’ve been dating when we really don’t know anything about each other.”

      “We can exchange bios during the drive. If we say we’ve only recently started dating, they won’t expect us to know everything about each other.”

      “Well, that much is the truth, anyway.” She grabbed her evening bag and keys. “It should be an adventure.”

      “You think so?”

      She nodded. “And adventure is my middle name.”

      He couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking, then her eyes twinkled mischievously, and he found that appealing. He tended to date serious women—

      Whoa. Wait. This wasn’t a date date. This was a please-rescue-me date. No kiss СКАЧАТЬ