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Formula: Father
Jolie Kramer








From Megan Maitland’s Diary


Dear Diary,

It’s happened at last. Darcy Taylor has come home. I always believed she would, despite the glamour and riches of her modeling career. She and Mitchell belong together. I hope they see it before it’s too late.

I think I hear the baby crying, so I must go. But one last thing, Dear Diary. Please let me be wise enough to help my family through these troubling times. Help me show Mitch that he deserves to love again. That he’ll be a wonderful husband and father. That he wasn’t responsible for Angela’s death…


Dear Reader,

There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

When our series began, the family was stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother are materializing out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day-care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations, even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!

Marsha Zinberg,

Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator, Special Projects




Formula: Father

Karen Hughes







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Karen Hughes enjoys writing about men and women who want to commit to each other, share dreams and grow old together. She believes romance lives in everyday life and thinks there is a hero inside every man—he just needs the right woman to bring out his best qualities. Wide-open spaces call to Karen, yet she also likes the bustle and convenience of city life. Experience has taught her that true love can be found anywhere.




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

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY




CHAPTER ONE


DARCY TAYLOR pulled the brim of her baseball cap down, so far, in fact, that the blue bill touched the top of her sunglasses. She wanted to stand outside a little longer, to really drink in the sight of Austin’s Maitland Maternity Clinic.

Mayfair Avenue had changed in the years Darcy had been away, but the feel of the street was the same. Or perhaps it was her nostalgic mood playing tricks on her.

She hadn’t felt misty a few days ago when she’d stopped by the clinic, but then a few days ago she didn’t have an appointment with Mitchell Maitland. Much to her surprise, she’d awakened this morning with a sense of excitement and fear. To see him again…

They had been inseparable. She remembered how she and Mitch had gotten in so much trouble the year they’d set off the firecrackers right underneath the window of the nursery. And there was no way she’d ever forget the day Mitch had kissed her, her very first kiss. Her gaze went to the spot, behind the big oak.

Was it possible? Could it still be…

She crossed the drive quickly, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was around. When she got to the towering tree, she hesitated, wondering if it would be better not to know. Curiosity won. She circled the massive trunk and searched the bark.

There. Oh, heavens, it was still there. A crudely etched heart. Inside, a simple but heartfelt message: DT+MM FOREVER.

Darcy closed her eyes. She hadn’t known then that forever would be one year and two months.

She turned away, angry at herself for being such a sentimental sap. She’d been a kid when she’d used her mother’s good steak knife to make her mark on the tree. She wasn’t a kid anymore. And now she needed her old friend for the most important thing she’d ever done.

Leaving the tree and her past behind, she headed for the front door and stepped inside. After signing in, she made her way to the main waiting area. The lovely soft pastel walls were as comfy as the couches and chairs chosen specifically for the ease with which very pregnant ladies could sit down on them and stand up again. Three such women sat there, one reading a romance novel, which she perched on her belly, one filing her nails and the third, who didn’t look very pregnant, thumbing through last month’s issue of Vogue.

The receptionist, a youngish woman with gorgeous long hair, smiled. “May I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Mitchell Maitland.”

“And you are?”

Darcy took off her glasses and tucked them in her purse. “Darcy Taylor,” she said, keeping her voice low so only the receptionist could hear.

The receptionist, who looked to be around the same age as Darcy, blinked in surprise, then turned to the woman holding the Vogue. There, on the cover, was Darcy Taylor, wearing a new Gautier, her hair piled extravagantly on top of her head, her makeup exaggerated and perfected with airbrushing and computer manipulation.

“I’ll call Dr. Maitland, Ms. Taylor.”

Darcy smiled. “Thank you.” She didn’t sit down. It was better to stand and wait. Not just because she didn’t want to be recognized, but because the moment the receptionist picked up the phone, Darcy’s heart started pounding in her chest. She felt her pulse throb and her chest tighten. Her face felt cold, and so did her hands.

She realized right then that she’d made a terrible mistake. What had she been thinking? Of all the doctors in the world, why on earth had she picked him? He might have a reputation for being the best in his field, but surely there were other terrifically competent doctors she could have chosen. Doctors who hadn’t kissed her in fourth grade. Doctors who hadn’t broken her heart.

“He’ll be right down, Ms. Taylor.”

Darcy nodded, suddenly unable to speak, her mouth had gone so dry. She grabbed a mint from the desk and got the wrapper off a millisecond before she shoved the candy in her mouth. A moment later, she was able to concentrate on her breathing. On calming herself using techniques she’d learned in front of the camera.

He was an old friend, that’s all. Someone she’d known once upon a time. Of course he was the logical choice to help her. Why not? He’d probably forgotten all about how she’d left. Why wouldn’t he?

Many bridges had been crossed since those long-ago school days. He’d gone on to fulfill his dream of becoming a doctor. She’d gone on to fulfill her mother’s dream of becoming a model.

And now, with almost scary synchronicity, she’d come home to fulfill her own dream. To do the one thing she wanted most in the world.

She was going to have a child.

Her hand went to her stomach, and she tried to imagine a life inside her, but her imagination wasn’t good enough. What she could picture was her belly growing, her body changing. Scary stuff. But not as scary as a future without a baby.

The muted ding of an elevator made her look up. The doors hissed open and there, in a white coat that came down to his knees, dark blue jeans and a white shirt with a Garfield necktie, stood Mitchell Maitland.

She knew him instantly, even though she hadn’t seen him in years. He had the same unruly dark hair. The same inquisitive green eyes. The same Maitland nose. But he’d developed a few things since she’d seen him last, like those wide shoulders and all that height—he’d been shorter than she was when she’d left. Now he stood several inches above her six feet.

Her gaze moved down his body, seeing everything, every detail. His long, lean legs. The beeper at his belt. The stethoscope tucked into his coat pocket.

When she reached his tennis shoes, she smiled. He’d worn tennis shoes to everything from gym class to church.

“Hey, Taylor,” he said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

She raised her eyes as he approached. “Hey, Maitland,” she said, the old greeting soothing her fears.

“I didn’t believe it,” he said. “I figured it was some other Darcy Taylor.”

“I came by to see Beth but I told her not to mention it. You look great by the way,” she said, meaning it.

It was Mitchell’s turn to give her the once-over. His gaze traveled over her khaki jumper, down to her woven sandals, then up again. It shouldn’t have bothered her in the least. God knows, she’d been looked at enough in her life. But she couldn’t remember wanting anyone’s approval as fiercely as she wanted his.

He smiled. His crooked grin did something to her insides, made her wish she could turn back time. “You’re still the prettiest girl I ever knew.”

She took three steps, right into his arms. Into a hug so tight it was a little hard to breathe. She didn’t care. For the first time in years, she felt safe. She’d been a fool not to call him before. She could have had years of incredible hugs, years of a friendship that had nothing to do with her looks or her money or the covers of magazines.

His hand moved down her back, pressing her closer, making her aware that this wasn’t the same boy she’d known all those years ago. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned against the man he was now. The hundred questions that had been on the tip of her tongue seconds ago seemed unimportant. She was home. Back in a world that had brought her more pain and more joy than any she’d experienced since. And most of that joy had been centered around Mitchell Maitland.

When he finally pulled back she met his gaze. Many things had changed in the years she’d been away, but the kindness, the curiosity, the warmth in those green eyes hadn’t.

“Shall we go upstairs?”

She nodded.

Mitch turned to lead her to his office, then glanced at Elaine behind the receptionist’s desk. Her mouth hung open as she stared blatantly. He knew it wasn’t because Darcy was a celebrity—too many celebrities had walked through these doors to rattle Elaine’s cage. Her bewilderment came from the fact that Darcy Taylor had hugged him. Stodgy, practical, stick-in-the-mud Doc Maitland. He had to admit he enjoyed the look of shock on her face. It felt good to surprise someone for a change.

But then his gaze went to Darcy, and Elaine was instantly forgotten. Darcy took up every bit of his attention. Just getting used to the idea that she was really here was proving quite a task.

He led her to the elevator, and as they waited, he tried twice to ask her questions, only to get flustered each time. There were too many questions, that was the problem. Questions he’d rehearsed a hundred times before, just in case he ever ran into her again.

“Mitch?”

“Yes?”

“I think you have to press the button if we actually want the elevator to come.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks as he leaned over to press the up button. It occurred to him that the last time he’d blushed, he’d been fifteen years old. Darcy had tripped on a piece of wood on the high school football field, and when she’d fallen, her dress had flown up, revealing a pair of tiny pink lacy underpants. He’d had an immediate, embarrassing, nearly life-threatening erection, and instead of helping her to her feet, he’d run as fast as he could to the boys’ locker room.

She hadn’t spoken to him for two days, for which he’d been grateful, since he seemed unable to control himself when he got anywhere near her. God, he’d wanted her. Was there ever again such an acute need as that of a fifteen-year-old boy for his first love?

How he’d loved her. More than school, more than his family, more than life itself. And when she left him, it very nearly killed him.

The elevator doors opened, and he touched the small of Darcy’s back to usher her inside. He felt a slight quiver under his hand. And then she turned to face the front, and he wasn’t quite sure his perception had been accurate.

He remembered to press the button to the second floor, and on the ride up, he wondered how much she knew. His sister Beth and Darcy had kept in touch over the years, although infrequently. Had Beth told her about Angela? About the child? Did Darcy know about the scandals that had rocked the Maitlands? No, probably not. If she had, he doubted she would have come here.

Which led him to the big question—why had she come here? Was it personal? Professional?

The elevator stopped, and he felt tempted to touch her again, but he held back. Until he found out what was going on, he had to assume that she was a patient and act accordingly.

Darcy walked with him, keeping up with his long stride easily. As they passed a meal cart in the hallway, she moved very close and her scent hit him, soft, evocative, slightly sweet. He found himself reacting to the incredibly feminine fragrance. Or maybe it was just the nearness of her that made his pulse race.

They finally got to his office, and he held the door open for her. As she passed him, he took a deep breath. He wanted to remember the scent. It seemed important.

Darcy didn’t sit down right away. She went to his degrees on the wall. Bachelor of Science. Medical Degree. Phi Beta Kappa key. The most important parts of his life were on that wall, including a picture of his family. There was one notable exception: the woman turning to look at him.

“You did it, Maitland.”

He smiled at the familiar address. “Yeah, I did, Taylor.”

She smiled, too, and he felt his chest tighten. “I’ve thought about you.”

“Oh?”

“I wondered if there was someone at college. You know….” She shook her head slowly. “Someone who challenged you like I did?”

“Challenged? Are you kidding?”

“Have we forgotten so soon?” She took a step toward him, her grin growing more devilish by the second. “Who was it that got the top score on the biology final?”

“Yeah, but who was it that aced the chem final?”

“I still think you cheated.”

“Ha.”

She met his gaze, and her smile faded. “Ha,” she whispered, but he had the feeling the gibe wasn’t meant for him.

“You’ve done pretty well for yourself,” he said, wanting to bring back the fire in her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Her fingers played over his medical books, and he felt a little surprised that her nails were polished. Which was idiotic. The woman was a fashion model, one of the most famous in the world. Of course she’d have her fingernails polished. She wasn’t the kid who espoused the idea that makeup was a plot to keep women subservient and that high heels were a medieval torture device. He wondered if she’d ever really been that kid.

“So what brings you home, Darcy?” He cleared his throat, surprised at how gruff he’d sounded.

She didn’t answer him right away. She looked around the room once more, then at him. “It is home, isn’t it?”

“I heard you live in New York now.”

“Not anymore. I sold my apartment.”

“Oh?”

“I bought a house. A great big beautiful house.”

“In Manhattan?”

Her smile came back, and it was easy to see why she’d made it to the top of her rarefied world. Her eyes lit up, and the face that had launched a thousand magazines looked luminous and so beautiful it seemed impossible. He rarely noticed the details of a woman’s appearance, but with her, he couldn’t help it. Her skin looked softer and smoother than any child’s. Her eyes, doe-shaped and mysterious, chocolate brown with thick, dark lashes, made him think of Audrey Hepburn. But it was her mouth that had captured the attention of the entire male population. Her lips, which she’d hated as a girl, were her trademark. Almost too generous, her smile suggested much more than a demure kiss. It was sexy and sweet, both at the same time. And then there was something more…something he couldn’t identify, even though he’d given it a great deal of thought.

She’d been a beautiful girl, but she’d blossomed into an exquisite woman. A woman who could have any man she wanted. The rich, the famous, the infamous. All she had to do was crook her little finger, and they’d lie down before her. The tabloids had chronicled her love affairs in terrible detail. It was his private masochism that made him keep reading the damn things, even when each word hurt like hell.

She tilted her head to the side, and her hair, as dark and luxurious as mink, fell over her shoulder. “What is that look for?”

“What look?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Come on, Maitland. It’s me. The science nerd from fifth grade. The one who helped you get back at Craig Thomas for stealing your homework. Remember?”

“Of course, I remember.” He stepped behind his desk, needing the distance and the furniture between them. “But a lot has changed since fifth grade, huh?”

“Maybe not too much? At least I hope not too much. I liked us back then.” Her statement and the look in her eyes were enigmatic, and before he could even venture a guess as to what she meant, she moved to the wall of diplomas. “I hear you’re the man when it comes to fertility.”

He laughed as he sat down. “You make it sound like I’m the one doing the fertilizing.”

She smiled, too, and for a moment, it was as if they were in high school again. But the feeling left him as quickly as it had come.

“Why did you choose this?” She nodded toward his diplomas, then turned to him again. Her gaze held no humor, just intense curiosity.

“I was going to be a surgeon at first, which was more out of rebellion than a love for surgery. But then I did a rotation in reproductive obstetrics, and everything changed. I figured I could make a difference here at the clinic. And there you have it.”

“I have a feeling that was the Cliff Notes version.”

“I didn’t want to bore you silly.”

She sat across from him and leaned forward so her elbows were on the edge of his desk. “Maybe someday you’ll tell me the whole story.”

He didn’t answer her. It didn’t seem likely that their paths would cross again. He still wasn’t sure why she’d come today.

“Mitch?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me about this artificial insemination. I mean, what it takes.”

His curiosity made him speechless for a moment. Was this for her? Was she—

Her right brow rose slightly, and he set his curiosity aside. But as he explained the different methods of insemination, the ovulation kit, the fact that most pregnancies occur in the first four cycles of therapy and all the other basics, he couldn’t look at her. The only reason he got through the entire spiel was that he’d done it hundreds of times before.

When he came to the end of the talk, he met her gaze, and once more he was reminded of sitting next to Darcy in algebra, when Mr. Green was explaining a new concept to the class.

Mitch’s grasp of the subject always suffered because he’d end up watching Darcy. No one listened the way she did. She would lean forward, like now. Her eyes widened, and when she had her moment of comprehension—that great aha!—she blinked rapidly for several seconds. If she didn’t understand something, she nibbled on her lower lip.

He’d dreamed about that.

She sat back in the suede wing chair, sighed, and as if she’d read his thoughts, nibbled on her lower lip. He forced his gaze away from her mouth. “You have questions?”

She nodded. “The donors,” she said, her voice a little timid. “How does the woman select which sperm…”

“Assuming it’s not going to be the husband’s?”

“Yeah. Assuming that.”

“We have a sperm bank here, on the premises. Each donor is screened very carefully, and we keep up-to-date profiles on each one.”

“Wow,” she said, more to herself than him.

“Darcy?”

“Hmm?”

“You want to tell me what this is about?”

She nibbled a little more on that lucky lower lip, then she took a deep breath. “I’ve quit modeling. For good. I bought the Kendrick place. In fact, escrow closed this morning. I’m not married, and I don’t think I ever will be. I’ve come back to Austin to have a baby. And I want you to help me.”




CHAPTER TWO


DARCY HELD HER BREATH as she watched Mitch go into shock. She wished she knew for sure which tidbit had made him pale. That she was giving up modeling? No. Mitch wouldn’t care about that. He’d never been particularly impressed with celebrities or fashion.

That she’d bought the Kendricks’ house? They’d played on the great expanse of lawn that was Marjorie and Bob Kendrick’s front yard so often, it was like their personal playground, right around the corner from the Maitland house. Darcy had told Mitch that one day she would live there. He hadn’t believed her. Frankly, she hadn’t believed it, either.

Who was she kidding? The shock had nothing to do with careers or houses. It had everything to do with babies.

Mitch came out of his stupor with a jolt, then coughed to cover his lapse. He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, then shook his head as he shut it once more.

“Surprise,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

“To say the least.” His voice sounded a bit funny, but at least words had come out this time.

“So, can you help me?”

“Can I? Yes. Should I? I have no idea.”

“Why?”

He blinked at her as if she’d missed something incredibly obvious. “Because I— You and I— Because we—”

She grinned. It had always been fun to make Mitch sputter. She’d found that out in sixth grade and had used the knowledge to torment him on a regular basis.

“What are you smiling about?”

“It’s good to see you, Maitland.”

His shoulders relaxed visibly. “It’s good to see you, too. I think.”

“Hey, you remember the time capsule?”

His brows furrowed for a moment, and then it came to him; she could see it in his face. “God, I haven’t thought of that in years.”

“I found it.”

“No.”

She nodded. “Right where we left it.”

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know. I figured we’d better open it together.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be damned. We buried that…when?”

“Nineteen seventy-seven. September. Right before school started.”

“Right.” He nodded. “We’d read that book.”

“Yeah.”

For several minutes, he didn’t speak. He’d locked his gaze on a stack of folders on his desk, but she didn’t think he was really seeing them. Instead, he was looking at the past, just as she had the moment her shovel had hit the tin lunch box buried under the juniper bushes at the Kendricks’ house.

She wondered how long it would take for it to become the Taylor house. Certainly all the people she’d grown up with wouldn’t be able to call it that. But her daughter’s friends… Or her son’s. She wasn’t picky.

Mitch caught her eye as he leaned forward again. “What does your mother have to say about this, uh, plan?”

“I guess you haven’t heard. My mother died eight months ago.”

Again, she’d managed to shock him. “What? I would have heard.”

Darcy shook her head. “She was in a nursing home in New York. She’d been sick for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“So it’s just you, now, huh?”

Darcy nodded. It was just her now, but not for long. Not if she could help it. Not if Mitch would cooperate. He looked as if he wanted to ask her something. Something awkward, if the doodles on his desk blotter were any indication. “Go on,” she said.

“Pardon?”

“Go on and ask me whatever it is. It’s all right.”

He grinned his acknowledgment at being caught. “I was just wondering…. Is there a donor?”

“No. There isn’t.”

“What about that veterinarian?”

“You knew about that?”

He nodded, somewhat guiltily. “It was kind of hard to miss.”

“Swell. I just love having my personal tragedies broadcast on national news. But no. We’re not together anymore. We got divorced almost two years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s much better this way.”

“What— Never mind.”

“What happened is that he was more interested in using my connections to make himself a movie star than he was in being my husband.”

“Ouch.”

“Damn straight, ouch. But one good thing came out of it. This decision.”

Mitch nodded. “I understand. But I’m still not sure I’m the guy to help you.”

“Why not? And don’t stutter around it. Just say what you’re thinking.”

“Same old Taylor.”

“Same old Maitland.”

His expression turned serious. “Darcy, this isn’t going to be easy. There’s only a twenty-five-percent chance that it’s going to work. Even if we do everything right.”

“I understand.”

“No, I’m not sure you do. We’ll be a team, you and I. I’ll have to know very personal things. Like when you’re ovulating. And I’ll be the one examining you.”

She bit her lip to hide her smile. “You’re embarrassed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m thinking about you.”

“No, you’re not. I can read you like a book. You’re thinking how weird it’s going to be if I’m your patient.”

“Aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Sure. It’s going to be weird, but only for a little while. Then you’ll get involved in the work, and I’ll be just another patient.”

“You’ll never be just another patient.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“I’m not so sure about that, either.”

“Come on, Maitland. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I’m leaving everything I know behind me and starting a completely new life. It would mean a lot to me to have a friend there to help. I’ll go to a stranger if you want me to, but I’ve thought long and hard about this. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted another human being. Despite…” She didn’t want to go there. Not now. “We have a lot of history together. We’re the brain patrol, remember? Who else is going to care more?”

He stared at her for a long while, his face expressionless. All she could do was wait, prepared for either answer. If it was yes, she’d have some work ahead of her. Not with the baby, but with Mitch. They’d need to talk about what had happened all those years ago. Clear the air. If he said no, then she’d leave him be. She’d find a good doctor and go on with her life. She’d still have Beth’s friendship to bolster her. And perhaps, in time, she and Mitch would be able to talk. She sure didn’t want to open that time capsule by herself.

“Can you give me some time?” he asked finally. “There’s a lot to consider.”

“Sure. Of course. Take all the time you need. As long as it’s in the next few days.”

“Gee, how generous.”

“Not to get too personal or anything, but remember that ovulation we talked about?”

He held up his hand to stop her. “I get it.”

“Good. Oh, and Mitch?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you keep this under your hat? I don’t want the press getting wind of any of this.”

“You know I’d never say a word.”

She nodded. “Yes, I do know that.” She stood, took a step toward the door, then turned to him. “I was wondering if you had time to give me a little tour of the place before I go?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve got a patient waiting. But maybe tomorrow….”

“No, it’s okay. Really.”

“Hold on a sec.” He picked up his phone and hit two numbers. A few seconds passed, then he asked his sister Abby if she could take Darcy around.

Darcy remembered Abby from school. She’d been two years behind Mitch and her. Abby was a great choice to show her around. Even as a girl, Abby had had her finger on the pulse of the world. Darcy had never been terribly close to her, but they’d been friendly.

Mitch hung up the phone. “She’ll be up in a minute. I would have asked Beth, but I know she’s got a meeting this morning.”

“It’ll be good to see Abby again.”

“I just wish I was free.”

“Don’t worry about it, Maitland. We’ll talk. Real soon.”

He got up and walked around the desk. She could tell he wanted to put his arm around her, but he wasn’t sure if he should. She helped him out by hugging him first. A first-class major squeeze. It was impossible not to close her eyes when she felt his hands on her back. When he pulled her close. When she took a deep breath of his masculine scent.

If things had been different…



MITCH DIDN’T CALL IN his next patient right away. He took a moment, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was important not to go crazy about this. What had happened to them was ancient history. Nothing to get all worked up about.

So why was his stomach churning? Why did he feel this crushing weight of disappointment?

Because he’d loved her, that’s why. He’d been young, yes, and he’d been naive, but the fact was he’d loved her, and he thought she loved him back. Now, once and for all, he knew he’d been mistaken. Darcy hadn’t loved him. If she had, she never would have asked him to be her doctor. Her emotions would have been too vulnerable. Yes, it had been years, but time could never diminish the pain of a first love gone wrong.

What shook him up most, however, was the awful realization that after all this time, even after Angela, he’d obviously still harbored hope that someday Darcy would come back. That she’d be his.

He was a first-class fool.

Darcy had left him without a second thought and gone on to a life he could hardly imagine. Of course she hadn’t thought about the kid who’d helped her with her science project. She was too busy with movie stars and politicians. Traveling all over the world. Smiling for the camera and her adoring public.

It was pure sentiment that had brought her here today. Some warm, fuzzy feeling about their childhood antics.

But what he was feeling was neither warm nor fuzzy. It hurt. It hurt as if she’d left him yesterday. It hurt because a dream had died. A dream he hadn’t even realized he’d had.

He couldn’t help her. He’d give her a referral, and that would be the end of it. Maybe it was a blessing. Maybe knowing the truth would set him free. He hadn’t been serious about a woman since Angela.

He looked at the clock, and that got him up and moving, but it didn’t stop his feverish thoughts. Why, of all the people in the world, did Darcy Taylor want artificial insemination? She could have any man she wanted. The best and the brightest would line up to father her child. But she’d asked about the donors at the clinic.

And why, at the peak of her career, had she quit? Something wasn’t right. It didn’t add up.

He went to examination room four and plucked the chart from the wall pocket. The minute he saw the name of his patient, he focused completely on her. Well, almost completely. Just before he knocked on the door, he closed his eyes and took a calming breath. An earthquake had hit Austin, and the epicenter was right here inside him. The world that had been steady and predictable this morning had been shaken so hard, he couldn’t get a foothold.

Darcy Taylor had come back.



DARCY SIPPED her coffee as she looked around the diner. It was a cheery place, with a regular clientele. She remembered the owner, Shelby Lord, as a spunky little girl with red hair, a friend of Beth and Ellie’s. She had obviously done well for herself with the restaurant. Darcy took another drink of the terrific coffee, then picked up her menu. As she tried to decide between the garden salad and a hot fudge sundae, Abby slipped into the seat across from her.

“The food here is great,” she said, picking up a menu. “Shelby will be surprised to see you.” Abby nodded toward the counter where a pretty blonde was serving a man in a business suit. “That’s Sara. What that poor thing has gone through…” Abby shook her head, then looked at the menu.

“Well?”

The dark-haired doctor, who looked so much like Mitchell only softer and prettier, seemed surprised at her tone. “What?”

“Well, come on. Spill.”

“Oh,” Abby said, glancing toward the counter. “It’s been a three-ring circus around here lately, I swear. I don’t know if you’ve read anything about what’s been happening.”

“I know about the baby left on your back steps. Have you figured out who the father is?”

“Well,” she said, leaning closer and lowering her voice, “that’s a story all its own. After we found the baby, this woman, Tanya Lane, showed up with that nightmare from Tattle Today TV, Chelsea Markum—”

“I’ve met her before. Once she gets wind of a story, she never backs off.”

“I’ll say. Anyway, Tanya claimed the baby was hers and that my brother R.J. was the father.”

“R.J.? Are you kidding? He’s the straightest person I’ve ever met.”

Abby nodded. “So you can imagine how that freaked him out. Especially when Tanya said that he’d deserted her when he found out she was pregnant!”

“This is positively surreal!”

“Oh, there’s more. We lost a lot of patients over that. And I can’t tell you how many regrets we got at first for the twenty-fifth-anniversary party. Which you’re invited to, by the way.”

“When is it?”

“A week and a half.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Tattle Today must have had some real suspicions about Tanya, though, because they put up fifty thousand dollars for an exclusive interview with whoever proved to be the real mother. Of course, busloads of women showed up, each one claiming the baby, and thanks to an article in the tabloids, every one of them swore Jake was the father.”

“My God. Jake. Is he still Mr. Mystery?”

“That’s an understatement. Jake hadn’t been home for five years, so they figured he couldn’t defend himself. But it didn’t do them any good. None of them knew that there was a birthmark on the baby.”

“A birthmark?”

Abby nodded. “Right above his belly button.”

“So Jake was off the hook?”

“Not quite. He came home after Mother called him, with a very pregnant woman in tow.”

“Another mystery baby?”

“Imagine our delight.” Abby sighed.

Darcy was having trouble assimilating all this in one sitting. It must have been a madhouse. “So what happened?”

Abby took a drink of water and signaled the waitress. After she ordered a piece of pie, Darcy ordered the sundae. When they were alone once more, Darcy looked at the menu again, then tried to get the waitress back.

“What’s wrong?” Abby asked.

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Eat a hot fudge sundae.”

“Why not?”

Darcy felt a tug of emotion in her chest and swallowed a little lump in her throat. “I’ve been a slave to food for sixteen years. Every mouthful mattered. Calories were the enemy, and I could never let my guard down.”

“That must have been awful.”

“You have no idea. I always felt like I was being punished. But no more. I’m not going to do that to myself, not even for one meal. I’m going to eat like a normal person. If I can figure out what normal people eat.”

“We eat hot fudge,” Abby said, her smile understanding and warm, making Darcy feel she’d made the right choice coming to Maitland Maternity. “Not every day, but we do eat it.”

“The mind fairly boggles.”

“If you have any trouble on the dessert front, just call me. I’ll do my best to lead the way.”

“It’s a deal.” Darcy put the menu down. “So where were we?”

Abby frowned. Played with a packet of sugar. “Jake came home with his pregnant friend. In the meantime, we had another surprise arrival. Connor O’Hara, my cousin, whom we’d never even met before. It turns out that he’s the father of the baby. His girlfriend, Janelle, saw all the hoopla on television, and she came to claim the baby.”

“Why did she abandon the baby in the first place? I can’t imagine any mother doing that.”

“I know. But she said that she and Connor had broken up and then she couldn’t find him. She’d lost her job and had no family of her own, so she brought the baby here, knowing Connor was related to us.”

“Why didn’t she just knock on the front door?”

Abby shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t spent much time with her. Or Connor, for that matter.” She looked away, and Darcy was surprised to see her cheeks infuse with pink. “I was a little busy.”

“Oh?”

She held out her left hand, flashing a beautiful diamond ring.

“You got married?”

She grinned. “I sure did.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Kyle McDermott.”

Darcy watched as Abby’s mouth softened into a smile of pure contentment. It was so clear she was in love. Radiantly in love. Darcy had to look away.

“He’s wonderful,” Abby went on. “Stubborn as a mule, but his heart is so good. Darcy, you’ll love him. We’ll have dinner, okay? Soon.”

“I’d like that,” Darcy said.

The waitress came by with their desserts, and for a few minutes, all Darcy could do was wallow in the sinful indulgence. But then Abby looked at the time. “I’ve got a meeting in about fifteen minutes.”

“So tell me the rest. I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t hear it all.”

“Okay. So Janelle moves into the guest cottage at Mother’s.”

Darcy smiled, remembering how she and Mitchell used to sneak into that little house.

“Just until she gets the official birth records, of course. Social Services insisted. Now that she and Connor are engaged, Connor’s moved into the cottage with her.”

Darcy nodded. “I see.”

“But that whole issue was pushed to the back burner when they found the dead woman in Beth’s office.” Abby stopped to take another bite of cherry pie before going on. “I can’t explain it, but even that turned out to be lucky, in a way. She and Ty Redstone…” Abby raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Really? I thought something was up, but Beth didn’t say a word.”

“Oops. I’ll let her be the one to tell you, then.”

“Fair enough,” Darcy agreed.

Abby took another bite of pie. “Long story shorter than I’d like to make it is that Mother announced that the baby’s mother has come forward but wishes to remain anonymous. After that, all the people who’d sent their regrets changed their minds and accepted the invitation to the gala, which means it’s going to be a zoo.”

“Oh, dear. I’m not too happy to hear about that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t particularly want this Chelsea Markum to know I’m here.”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think about that.”

“I’ll have to pass on the party. But thanks for asking.”

“If you change your mind…”

Darcy nodded. “I know you have to leave in a minute, but you never did tell me about the woman behind the counter.”

Abby leaned over again, making sure no one could hear her but Darcy. “She doesn’t know who she is. She was evidently in some kind of accident. Lost her memory completely.”

“Are you kidding?”

Abby shook her head. “The only thing she knows for sure is that she’s a fabulous cook. Shelby told me last night that she’s going to ask Sara to be a chef instead of a waitress.”

“Wow, amnesia,” Darcy said, only half listening to Abby. She couldn’t imagine what that would be like.

“I’ve really got to go, Darcy. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. You go. I’m going to stay and finish every bite of this sundae. And don’t you dare put that money down. It’s my treat. The tour was great, but frankly, the gossip was even better.”

“We’ll talk more.”

“You bet we will.”

Darcy waved goodbye, then turned to her ice cream. Now that she was alone, she allowed herself to think about her problems. Mitchell, of course. But also the fact that Maitland Maternity was in the spotlight so often. It seemed hard to believe that so much had hit the family all at once. Maybe she should go to another doctor and not take such a big risk.

Now, if she could only figure out which risk she was so afraid of taking—being discovered by the media or rekindling her…friendship with Mitchell Maitland.

The hot fudge didn’t help her solve her problem—but it sure made the worry a lot easier to take.




CHAPTER THREE


THE BABY GURGLED, and Janelle forced herself to laugh. She tickled the baby’s tummy as she widened her smile. Then she saw that the damn snooty butler, Harold, had finally left the room and she could relax. But not too much. Anyone could walk in at any second. Megan Maitland was the biggest nuisance, but at least she was convinced that Chase was her grandson and Connor her real son and that she, Janelle, was the nicest, sweetest, most loving daughter-in-law-to-be in the world.

She couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to change the baby’s diaper. Nothing made her want to gag more. Well, nothing except seeing the self-righteous Maitland family being all lovey-dovey with each other. That was enough to make anyone sick.

All she had to do was keep it up for a little while longer. Just until Petey and she made their money, and then it was adios to Austin, to the Maitlands, to this…. She took off the old diaper and winced at the smell.

She didn’t dare do anything less than a thorough job, though. Megan or Harold would check. They always did. Like they didn’t trust her or something.

She laughed. Man, her only regret was that she wouldn’t be around to see their faces when they realized what she’d done. How she’d tricked them all.

Ironically, she figured Megan would be the one who could appreciate her work the most. Megan, who was tough as nails behind that angelic facade. Megan, who hadn’t gotten where she was by being a Goody Two-shoes. No one made that kind of money by being sweet.

Megan had had to be smarter than the other guy, one step ahead. Just like Janelle. And that’s why it was all going to work, pretty as you please. Then she’d live her life in the kind of luxury she deserved. As for Petey… If he behaved, he’d be right there next to her. If he didn’t?

Sacrifices had to be made sometimes. God knows, changing diapers should have been sacrifice enough. But if she had to do this alone, so be it.

Petey. So damn good-looking. So malleable. But not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Actually, it was probably better that he wasn’t. Wouldn’t want him getting too many ideas of his own.

Finally, the kid was changed. And Megan would be down any second to take the brat to the Maitland day care. Janelle could wait. She’d learned all about waiting.

She picked up the baby and held him to her chest. As she walked around the room, bouncing him gently, a thought occurred to her. What if she didn’t leave? What if she stayed right here in Austin. Took Megan Maitland down a few hundred pegs. Took over the mansion!

Wouldn’t that be a day. My, my. This would require some thought. Some serious thought.



“YOU’RE STILL HERE!”

Darcy nodded as she walked toward Beth. “I’m on my way out. I just thought I’d stop in and say a quick hello first.”

Beth stepped over a pile of Lego, dodged a headless Barbie and maneuvered deftly around a See-n-Spell that mooed for no apparent reason. “Did you and Abby have a nice lunch? I was so sorry to miss out.” She embraced Darcy in a fierce hug, then her hands grasped Darcy’s upper arms, which she held as she studied her friend’s face. “I swear to God, you are more gorgeous than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m not kidding.”

Darcy smiled, knowing that Beth meant it as a compliment and not as an opening line to precede a favor.

“You know I’m not lying. You could always tell when I was.”

“And you did plenty of it, if my memory serves.”

Beth’s grin was exactly the same as when she’d been seven years old, and Darcy had been her babysitter. “I was a perfect angel as a child. And I refuse to believe anything different.”

Darcy couldn’t help but laugh. Beth had always been so cheerful, so excited about life.

“Do you have a minute? I want to hear what Mitchell said when you told him why you were here.”

“That won’t take long. He said—”

“No, not yet. I’m supposed to be on a break, so why don’t I walk you to your car.”

“Really?”

She nodded, sending her dark curly hair bobbing down her back. Darcy wanted to tell her what a beautiful woman she’d become, but she decided to wait till their next meeting. She didn’t want it to sound as if she were just returning Beth’s compliment.

“I’ll be one second.” Beth scurried to the far side of the day care to speak to an older woman who was helping a little boy fix a toy truck.

Darcy’s gaze swept the large, cheerful place until she noticed the garden outside. Lush and green, with all sorts of intriguing plants, it seemed a perfect place to find peace and quiet.

At that thought, a great shriek rang out, and Darcy spun to find a little girl—she looked to be around five—howling like a banshee, her face scrunched up in a mask of pure misery. Darcy rushed over to her, searching for blood or a broken bone at the very least. What she found instead was a baby doll with black marker on its face. Two big dark circles, as if the doll had lost a barroom brawl.

Darcy crouched so she was nearly eye level with the girl, who, she saw, would be extremely pretty if she ever stopped crying. “Honey, are you crying because of your doll?”

The girl sniffed and nodded, which caused a teardrop to fall on Darcy’s hand. She completely melted. Then she took the doll and tried to wipe off the black marker, but it didn’t help. The shiners were there for keeps. She’d have to try another tack. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

After another sniff, the girl mumbled something Darcy didn’t catch.

“What is it?”

“Courtney.”

“Oh, that’s a beautiful name.” She held up the doll. “And what’s her name?”

“Lizabeth.”

“That’s a beautiful name, too. But you know what?”

Courtney shook her head, still looking so woeful it broke Darcy’s heart.

“She’s going to need your help from now on.”

“What?”

“Lizabeth. She’s very special now, and it will take a very special little girl to care for her properly.”

“She’s no good anymore. Gilbert ruined her.”

“Gilbert didn’t ruin her. He gave her a cross to bear. Do you know what that means?”

Again, Courtney shook her head. But at least she’d stopped crying.

“It means that she’s different from all the other dolls. Her eyes make her different. Now, most people don’t like things that are different. They don’t realize how wonderful it is to love someone like Lizabeth.”

“Why is it wonderful?”

“Because you know what Lizabeth is really like. You know that behind all this marker, there’s a sweet, beautiful doll, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So when your friends see you treating her as if she were brand-new and perfect, they’ll learn to see past the black marker, too.”

“Really?”

“Really. And before you know it, Lizabeth will be the most popular doll in the whole day care.”

Courtney wiped her face with the back of a perfect tiny hand. She reached for the battered doll, which Darcy put carefully into her arms. Then, without a goodbye, Courtney headed across the room.

Darcy watched her go to the playhouse and crawl inside, taking the doll with her.

“You’re gonna be one heck of a great mother,” Beth said.

Darcy looked up at her voice. She’d been so intent on Courtney that she hadn’t even realized Beth was standing right behind her.

“You know, we’re always looking for good help here.”

Darcy smiled as she rose. “No, thanks. With any luck at all I’m going to have a full-time job as a mommy very soon.”

“Which brings us back to what Mitchell said.”

“In a nutshell, he said he wasn’t keen on the idea of being my doctor.”

“Which you’d anticipated.”

“Yes, but now—” she looked at the playhouse once more “—now I know I need to convince him to take me on.”

“Why?”

“Because this is my home. And, like it or not, you guys are the closest thing I’ve got to family. And I’m going to need all of you to help me with this child.”

Beth held open the door for her and they stepped into the hall. “I’ll do what I can to help.”

“I know you will. And I appreciate that more than you can imagine.”

“I’ve needed the family to stand by me, too. Mitchell will come through. He always does.”

They were walking by the elevators when a very tall, very good-looking man approached Beth.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Megan Maitland.”

“And you are?”

“Harrison Smith. I’m here to discuss my daughter’s care.”

“Is she a patient here?”

“No, but she might turn out to be one. If things check out.”

“I’m sure you’ll find there’s no safer place for your daughter in the world,” Beth assured him. “Or better care.”

He nodded, but Darcy had the feeling he wasn’t convinced.

“Megan Maitland’s office is upstairs. There’s a receptionist who will call her for you.”

“Thank you.”

Darcy took a step toward Beth as they watched the man ring for the elevator. They didn’t speak again until the doors had closed behind him and the elevator had started moving.

“What a stunner,” Beth said.

“How old do you think he was?”

“Forty. Maybe forty-five.”

“Did you see those dark blue eyes?”

Beth nodded. “And that thick black hair?”

“God, if Lagerfeld ever got a hold of a man like that,” Darcy said. “I can just see him on the cover of GQ.”

“Until a month or so ago, I know exactly where I would have liked to have seen him,” Beth said, leading Darcy toward the front door. “But not anymore. Harrison Smith might be tall, dark and handsome, but he can’t come close to Ty Redstone.”

“Aha. I was wondering when you were going to tell me about him. Abby hinted…”

Beth smiled broadly. “He’s the most wonderful man in the whole world. And, oh, Darcy, I can hardly believe it myself, but we’re going to be married!”

Darcy was happy for her old friend. Honestly happy. But that didn’t stop her heart from aching. From wanting her own eyes to shine with a love so deep and real, everything else in the world faded into the background.

She might not ever find that kind of love for herself, but she could give that kind of love to a child. To her child. But this was no time to be wrapped up in her own angst. Beth was going to be married. Darcy hugged her friend once more. “I want to hear all about him,” she said.

“Don’t worry, you will.”



“DON’T YOU HAVE an opinion?”

Mitchell focused on his mother, knowing he’d missed the gist of their conversation. The last thing he remembered clearly was telling her about Darcy’s sudden appearance. Then he’d gone somewhere else, even though he hadn’t left the room. “What was the question again?”

Megan Maitland shook her head, but her smile was sympathetic. “I imagine it’s difficult to see her again after all this time.”

He nodded. “But it’s also good. I mean, we sure went through a lot together.”

Megan studied him in that way she had, as if she could see inside him. She’d had that ability even when he’d been a child. He’d never been able to lie to her. She’d always known. “Sometimes,” she said, “the one we love first is the hardest to forget.”

He jerked in his chair. “Love? Who said anything about love? We were friends. Damn good friends. But it didn’t go further than that.”

“No? My mistake. Sorry.”

Mitch cleared his throat. “So who is this man we’re meeting?”

His mother didn’t answer, not in words, at least. But her gaze said she wasn’t fooled. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t fooled, either. Darcy had been his first love. But that had been years ago. A lot had changed since then.

“His name is Harrison Smith. He’s here to discuss his daughter’s birthing plans.” She glanced at the antique clock on her desk. “And he’s late.”

“Why am I here? Shouldn’t he be talking to Abby?”

“I want your take on him. Something seemed a little off when he made his appointment. He wanted to make sure we knew how much money he had and that he was willing to spend it on his daughter.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Mitchell,” she said, scolding him, but lightly. “With all that’s gone on here in the last few months, you don’t expect me to ignore a gut feeling, do you?”

“Your gut feeling? No way.”

“Thank you. Besides, you know as much about the clinic as anyone, so you’ll be able to answer any questions he might have about the medical side of things.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I expect.”

He got up and went to the window. He found what he was looking for in two seconds. The great old tree with their initials carved in the trunk. DT+MM FOREVER. Darcy Taylor plus Mitchell Maitland. He’d found it two weeks after she’d disappeared. And for the next five years, he’d wanted to forget that he’d ever seen it. It was a cruel joke by a sadistic universe. He’d been so shy he’d never been able to tell her his true feelings. And he’d certainly never guessed he was anything more than a friend to Darcy. And then to find out they’d wasted all that time. That they could have been so much more, if only they’d told each other the truth.

He’d often wondered if she might not have left if he’d had the nerve to tell her he loved her. The course of their lives would have been different. It could have been everything he ever wanted.

All because he couldn’t find the courage to say three little words.

“Mrs. Maitland?” The bright voice came over the intercom. “Mr. Smith is here for his appointment.”

“Bring him in, please.”

Mitchell found his seat again, prepared for a boring half hour. Then Harrison Smith entered the room, and boring wasn’t even in the ballpark.

Something happened between Smith and his mother. It might have been recognition. It definitely was a jolt. His mother never lost her cool, and yet, for a moment, when her hand touched Smith’s, she’d grown so pale he was afraid she might pass out. The next second, she was back to her old self. Stately, calm and more charming than any other woman he’d met.

Mitch’s gaze shifted to Smith to see if he, too, had felt something odd. But there was nothing to read on his face. The only thing slightly amiss was the way he looked at Megan. He stared, hard, as if memorizing her features.

Then Mitch got it. He almost laughed out loud when he realized what he was doing. Nothing was going on with Harrison Smith and his mother. It was a classic case of transference. What he’d seen in his mother’s eyes was his projection of what had happened to him when he saw Darcy. Of course. His old psychology professor would have had a good laugh.

He relaxed into his chair and listened to Megan talk about the clinic. Once she got going, no one could turn her down. Smith sat rapt, completely under her spell. He waited until she’d finished before he started asking questions. Even when Mitch answered, Smith’s gaze focused on Megan. That was a little odd. But the questions were all reasonable, if a little obsessive. It was obvious the man was concerned. He wanted to know about the food, the credentials of everyone from the nurses to the anesthesiologist, but mostly he wanted to know the history of the place.

As Megan talked, Mitchell’s gaze went to the window again. How remarkable that a moment’s decision could change everything. How sad that fear could lock so many doors and chip away at a man’s confidence.

Right then and there he decided to take Darcy Taylor as his patient. An unlucky man let fear rule him once. A fool did it twice.




CHAPTER FOUR


MEGAN MAITLAND stared at the photograph of her late husband, William. Such a handsome man. Such a good man. She missed him as if he’d physically been a part of her, and his absence left a hole that would never be filled. Most days, it was a quiet ache, but sometimes, like right now, it hurt like the dickens.

That Harrison Smith. What was it about him that seemed so familiar? He’d sworn they’d never met, but she wasn’t quite so sure. There was something….

It was nice to see a man so concerned about his child. His questions had been astute, if a little odd. He’d wanted to know so much about the clinic, the history, the employees. But it spoke well of him that he cared enough to dig for details. What we do for the love of our children…

Her thoughts turned to the baby. To her grandchild. He was so precious. So perfect in every way. Such a miracle in her life.

She’d never admit it to a living soul, but she was glad Janelle was having trouble getting the birth records for the baby. It was selfish, but Megan didn’t care. Having Chase in the house had changed everything. The sound of his laughter, the sweet smell of his freshly washed skin, the sense of utter peace and contentment when he slept. If she wasn’t so darned old, she’d have another child herself.

Smiling at her foolishness, she turned to her correspondence. The gala was so close, and there was still so much left to do.

Beth had told her this morning that she was determined to convince Darcy to attend. Darcy. Such a beautiful girl. Such a sweet girl.

Memories tumbled on top of one another. Darcy and Mitch, the terrible twosome. They’d been so good for each other. It had been a shame about Darcy’s father. His gambling had done so much to hurt her. And Darcy’s mother had worked two jobs to keep them afloat. Poor child. Such a hard beginning. But look what she’d accomplished! What was that old saying about the sharpest swords being forged in the hottest fire? In Megan’s experience, it was true. Darcy had become a formidable woman.

Now, wouldn’t it be lovely if Mitch and Darcy…

Perhaps that was too much to hope for. Life rarely made sense, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But it would be quite something.

Enough daydreaming. Her work wasn’t going to finish itself.



MITCH CLIMBED the steps to the second floor of his town house, but instead of going into his bedroom, he detoured into the guest room. It had been ages since he’d been in there, although the maid who came every two weeks kept it spotless.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for until he opened the closet. Until he saw the boxes that hadn’t been opened since he’d moved from his family home.

He got the biggest box down and put it on the bed. It wasn’t taped shut. On top of the pile of mementos was his old high school sweatshirt, which meant that he had the right box. Below that were trophies. Mostly for science projects and junior achievers, but also for track and field meets, where he’d been a distance runner. He piled the awards on top of the sweatshirt.

There it was. His high school yearbook. He lifted the heavy book, but he didn’t open it. Not yet. Instead, he left it on the bed as he repacked the box, then took the book with him and went to his bedroom.

He stared at the yearbook, green with his high school emblem embossed on the cover, while he took off his coat and tie. Once more, he lifted the book and headed downstairs.

It felt as if every step opened a new door in his memory. The smell of the hallways by the chemistry labs. The smooth, cool surface of the staircase handrail. Mr. Johnson’s awful toupee.

By the time he reached the first floor, he was awash in the past, swimming through an ocean of moments that had made up his life.

Above everything, coloring everything, was Darcy.

He poured himself a glass of Merlot, then went to the living room and settled in his favorite leather club chair. But still, he didn’t open the book. He sipped his wine, ran his hand over the binding, closed his eyes. She had always been there. At the time, he’d believed that would never change, no matter what. She was his reason.

His reason to study so hard. His reason to join the glee club. His reason to wake up in the morning. And his reason to dream.

And then she was gone. No goodbye. No warning. Just gone.

He opened the yearbook, but he didn’t try to find her picture. It wasn’t in there. She’d left two months before graduation. One Friday she’d been in the library, sitting across from him as they studied for a French test, then she disappeared.

He could still remember every detail of that Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Taylor opening the door, looking unkempt and uncomfortable. Not letting him inside.

When he asked if Darcy was ready for study group, she’d grown so red in the face that he got scared. And then when she told him that Darcy had gone to New York to be a model, he’d thought she was lying.

But she hadn’t lied. Darcy had flown to New York, and for the next sixteen years, he’d watched as she’d become internationally famous on runways and magazines around the world. He’d watched her on television in commercial after commercial. He’d seen her wedding pictures.

What he’d realized that Sunday was that he hadn’t known Darcy at all. She’d never mentioned wanting to be a model, not even once. He’d asked himself a million times if she’d given any hint, but it was clear his teenage self-obsession had been so encompassing that if she had, he’d missed it.

He turned to the middle of the yearbook, to an old snapshot pressed between the pages. It had started to fade, but he could still make out the colors of her dress.

That stupid yellow dress. She’d worn it to the science fair, and when they’d won first prize for their project, she’d been so excited she’d hugged him fiercely. His hand had moved to hold her, but the yellow dress had an open back. Tiny straps held it up. His hand had touched her bare skin, and his whole world had changed.

The feel of her had made him dizzy. In that one instant, she was more to him than she’d ever been—infinitely more. Her breasts pressed against his shirt, taking her from friend to obsession in ten seconds. He got unaccountably brave and moved his hand down her back, to the curve of her buttocks, and when he was inches away, she’d flown out of his embrace as abruptly as she’d flown in, and he was left with a little biology lesson of his own.

He’d dashed behind the table to hide his embarrassment, although he was absolutely convinced that the whole school, including Darcy, had seen his predicament.

His gaze went to the picture, and he studied the girl who had changed his world. Even then it was easy to see what she would become. Taller than everyone in the class, slender as a reed even as she started to blossom. Her hair, cropped short and slightly disheveled, worked perfectly as a frame for a face that would captivate millions. Those eyes. So famous now. But back then, those eyes had been filled with mischief. With curiosity and excitement. He’d anchored the most important friendship of his life by seeing acceptance in those eyes.

The thought made him wince. He should be ashamed of himself, putting Darcy’s friendship above Angela’s. It wasn’t true, anyway. His sentiment had gotten the best of him because Darcy had come back. That was all.

He should consider himself lucky. He’d had a great friend in Darcy, and after she’d left, he’d eventually found Angela. Kind and sweet, she’d been his from the moment they met. She was an education major, and he was in his second year of residency. Angela with her soft laugh and flaming red hair. Who would have guessed he’d have so little time with her?

And who would have guessed he’d continue to feel guilty about her, even after all this time. That, too, was part of Darcy’s legacy. Because, although he’d have died before admitting it to anyone, he knew that he’d never really loved Angela. Not when they were dating. Not when they were married. Not when she’d gotten pregnant. Not even when she was on her deathbed.

Angela had never been first in his heart. Darcy was already there.



THE PHONE CALL had come early in the morning. A request, the woman said, from Dr. Maitland to come in for some blood tests and to fill out paperwork.

But as she sat on the paper sheet that covered the middle of the examination table, Darcy wondered if she’d jumped to conclusions about what it meant.

Had he decided to take her as a patient? Or was this a pretext to see her, only to refer her to another doctor?

She’d lost her ability to read him. Of course she had, what did she expect? They’d been so young, and their combined life experience wouldn’t have filled a chapter in a memoir. The cold truth was that they’d never had more than a friendship, and that had ended the day she got on the plane for New York. It was only her need for roots that had brought her back. Not her need for Mitchell Maitland—except for his expertise.

Last night she’d been restless, and it was more from her thoughts about Mitchell than the noises in the hotel. She’d waffled so much about having him as her doctor, she’d ended up falling asleep from sheer exhaustion.

But before that final lights-out, she’d at least been able to see that her emotional upheaval hadn’t been about Mitchell per se, but about what he represented. With him, life had been innocent and enchanting, and the world had held nothing but promise. That’s why she wanted her child to be born here. And why she’d gone to Mitch. If he helped her have this baby, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Maitlands would keep an eye on the child. Just as they’d kept an eye on her when she’d had so much trouble at home.

The question that kept nagging at her was whether she was being fair to them. Maybe she should just come right out and ask.

She heard a soft knock at the door, and she sat up straighter. It was Mitch. Her chest constricted at the sight of him, and she felt as though she couldn’t get enough air. She tried to read his decision in his expression, but she got lost somewhere in those dark green eyes.

He had his hand on the door, but he didn’t push it closed behind him. His hesitance was mirrored in his gaze. Should he or shouldn’t he? Would he be part of her future or her past?

When he exhaled, she realized she’d been holding her breath, too. When he smiled at her, she realized she’d been holding her heart at bay for longer than she cared to remember.

“Thanks for coming in at the last minute,” he said, his voice warming her like a blanket.

She nodded, wanting to prod him along, afraid to speak in case it sidetracked him.

He looked at her carefully, and this time his gaze was more clinical. This was Dr. Maitland, the man with the diplomas on the wall, and he was examining her with all the earnestness he’d had as a student.

Please say yes, she prayed. Say yes, and give my unborn baby the kind of childhood I’ve always dreamed of.

He cocked his head. “Darcy?”

“Yes?”

“Know what I thought of this morning?”

“What?”

“Twenty-two, fourteen, twenty-seven.”

She grinned, knowing immediately what the numbers meant. “My locker.”

He nodded. “That unholy mess you called a locker.”

“It had character.”

“It had mold.”

She laughed. She had her answer. And maybe she had her friend back.

He grinned, too, as he approached her. After he put her chart on the shelf to his right, he took her hands in his. “Are you sure you want me to help you with this inception?”

She nodded.

“You realize I’m going to have to examine you. Often.”

“Yeah, I know. Believe me. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do it, but now… I know you’ll be completely professional. And frankly, I lost my modesty a long time ago. It’s hard to be prudish when a photographer is adjusting your boobs in front of hundreds of people.”

She saw that he still wasn’t convinced. Well, neither was she. Not one hundred percent. “Here’s the deal. I think once we get through the first exam, everything will be okay. But if it’s not, I’ll make other arrangements.”

“Fair enough.”

She looked at her jeans and T-shirt. “Do you want to do it now?”

“Nope. Not today. Today is blood tests and paperwork.”

“Good.”

He let go of her hands. “I’m going to send in Tracy, who does a terrific job of not hurting people. Then I’ll come back to ask you some questions.”

“Like Jeopardy?”

His chuckle made her tummy tighten. “If you like. But I think it will go faster if I just ask them the normal way.”

“Spoilsport.”

He turned to leave, but she wasn’t ready for him to go yet. “Hey, Maitland.”

“Yeah?”

“You still eat peanut butter every day?”

“Not every day. But I confess, there are times—”

“When you get out the tablespoon?”

“It’s a perfectly harmless fetish.”

“Bologna and peanut butter sandwiches are not harmless. They’ve been proven to blind laboratory rats.”

“You forgot. Bologna, peanut butter and mayonnaise.”

She shuddered dramatically. Then she caught his gaze again, and the temperature in the room shot up about ten degrees. “Do you have someone?” she asked, just as surprised as he was at the abrupt segue.

“Someone?”

She needed to know. Now. Whatever the answer was, it would be okay. In fact, it might be better all around if he was taken. “You know,” she elaborated, keeping her tone light as a feather, “a wife.”

He swallowed hard enough for her to notice his Adam’s apple. “No. I did have, once.”

“Oh.” She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. She thought about prodding him, but it wouldn’t be right. He was her doctor. She hoped he’d be her friend. Neither of which gave her any right to ask him about his private life.

Anxious to change the subject, she jumped from the table. “Do I have a minute before the vampire comes?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I need to make a quick phone call.”

“Use the phone here. Just dial nine to get out.”

To get to the wall phone, she would have to pass him. Fully expecting him to leave, she went forward, but he stayed right where he was. So close that she had to turn sideways. So close that their bodies touched.

A memory came over her, so strong it was as if it had happened only yesterday. They’d won at the science fair. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, and he’d touched her bare back. Her breasts, so new and so sensitive, had pressed against his chest. She’d felt the first flush of what it was like to be a woman that day. She’d felt it, and it had scared the hell out of her.

She’d jumped away from him, and sure enough, he hadn’t been able to leave fast enough. She knew she’d embarrassed him, and the knowledge had kept her up nights. But along with the shame there was excitement, too. A secret thrill that had changed the way she felt about Mitchell Maitland forever.

Now the thrill was back. Back, and sixteen years stronger. The urge to wrap her arms around his neck was incredibly strong. They’d never kissed. Not really. Not a grown-up, set-your-hair-on-fire kiss.

His eyes darkened and then his mouth opened, and she felt sure that kiss was about to happen. She waited for his touch. Closed her eyes. Leaned forward until her breasts touched his chest.

He touched her back with his fingers. But only for a second. Even with her eyes closed she could sense his recoil. He almost tripped over a chair in his hurry to get away from her.

“I’ll go get Tracy,” he said, making it to the door in record time.

“Great,” she said, as if nothing at all had happened.

After he closed the door behind him, she slumped against the table. Nothing at all had happened. Except for the realization that this wasn’t going to be easy. The feelings she had for Mitch were more complicated than she’d imagined. She had a hell of a lot to think about.




CHAPTER FIVE


PETEY TURNED AWAY from Wheel of Fortune, pressed the mute button then tossed the remote on the couch. “I’ll do it tonight,” he said. “Wait till she’s walking home. Then, bam, I’ll get her before she knows what hit her.”

“No, no, no.” Janelle shook her head, impatient with his knee-jerk reaction. “We have to be careful. Think this through.”

“But what if she wakes up? You know, loses her amnesia or whatever. She could nail you.”

“Me? Not me alone, buddy boy.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Petey went to the kitchen and got another Corona out of the fridge. She watched him open it, then practically drain the bottle in one long drink. Her gaze went to his throat as he swallowed, and a little tickle started deep inside her.

He might not be an Einstein, but he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. He had the right equipment and he knew how to use it. If only he’d stop trying to think, everything would be perfect.

“I can do it, babe. I can. You don’t know, but I’m real good with a knife.”

“This isn’t carving a turkey, Petey. It’s killing someone, and there can be no mistakes. Not one fingerprint, not one fiber.”

He came back to the living room and sat on the leather chair across from Janelle. Though it was small, the place was the nicest by far they’d ever stayed in. The art was ugly, but the rest of the guest house was just like something out of House Beautiful.

Janelle was going to take that silver ashtray when she left, and the crystal vase on the mantel, too. The Maitlands would never miss them. “Listen, here’s what we have to do,” she said as she brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. “You have to go by Austin Eats and check things out. Just make sure nobody sees you. Then you trail her when she leaves, try and figure out her schedule.”

Petey nodded, as if that had been his plan all along. She almost said something, then she figured it wouldn’t do any good. As long as he kept on doing what she said, they’d be okay. And Lacy would disappear once and for all.



MITCH TURNED OFF his Dictaphone after the fourth mistake in five minutes. His mind wasn’t on his charts. The situation with Darcy wouldn’t let him be.

For a man who prided himself on his cool logic, he was working himself into a sweat. There was no way he would be Darcy’s doctor if his feelings for her could in any way compromise the situation. This morning, when she’d touched him…

It was inappropriate, of course, but was it real? Was his desire for her a phantom from his past, or was he attracted to the Darcy of today?

Logic said his reactions were entirely based in the past. How could it be otherwise? He didn’t know Darcy. Her life had changed her, just as his life had changed him. They weren’t kids anymore, so why was he acting like one?

A knock on the door startled him. “Come in.”

Abby poked her head in. “Are you busy?”

He looked at the stack of files he had to get through. Then he sighed, knowing he was too distracted to work. “Come on in.”

His sister sat across from him, and for the next ten minutes they discussed a patient. He expected her to leave in her usual abrupt manner—marriage hadn’t changed her that much. She still did more than any two people he knew. But she put her file down and settled in her chair.

“What’s this?”

“I’m just curious.”

“About?”

“Darcy.”

He picked up the Dictaphone mike. “You know why she’s here.”

“Yes, I do. But what I’m curious about is you.”

“Me?”

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Talking about her like this? Yes.”

“No, is it uncomfortable, her being here? When she left, you were pretty miserable.”

“I was a teenager. What did you expect?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You know perfectly well it went beyond that. Remember that New Year’s Eve?”

He did. Unfortunately. He’d poured his heart out to his younger sister, a result of too much champagne and not enough sense.

“As I recall, you said you still loved her. That was two years after she’d gone.”




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