Читать книгу: «Married For The Boss's Baby»

CHAPTER ONE

DR. GRANT SMYTHE glanced at the bassinet. His father and stepmother had been in the grave only a day and the nanny had quit. Just walked out. What else could go wrong?

No doubt his father was rolling over in his grave at the idea that Grant had been awarded custody of his baby half-sister. He was pretty sure his father had had no intention of ever telling the child she had siblings.

Grant paced the oak planks in the foyer of what had been his father’s home.

Where is the new nanny? When is that woman going to show up?

He checked the time on his phone. She should be here by now. They were waiting on him in the OR. The liver he was to transplant wouldn’t be viable much longer.

The baby whimpered. Grant shoved his hair off his forehead. This was just one more of his father’s ways of making him feel inadequate. One final sick joke.

The whine grew to a cry. Where was...? What is her name...? Uh, Sydney, Sara, Sharon or something.

The baby released a deep-chested, high-pitched scream. What was wrong? He hadn’t had anything to do with babies since med school. Even then it had only been for a short time.

Baby. He was so bitter he couldn’t even call the small bundle by her name. Grant looked into the cherubic face twisting up to make another cry. His sister. Lily. He shouldn’t be taking out lifelong issues with his father on an innocent babe. “Lily,” he whispered.

Her mouth closed and she studied Grant.

Amazement filled him. The child was beautiful. She resembled Evelyn so much. Her mother. The same woman he’d once planned to marry. Lily could have been his daughter. At least that was until he had introduced Evelyn to his father. Those were dark thoughts Grant didn’t have time for.

The ring of his phone drew his attention. Surely that was the nanny saying she was on her way. Answering, he recognized the voice of Leon, his best friend and lawyer. When Grant had taken responsibility for Lily he’d contacted Leon to watch after his and the child’s interests.

Without any preamble Leon said, “Well, it looks like Evelyn’s family means business.”

“I had no idea she even had an aunt and uncle. She never said anything about them.”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re here now. Maybe you should consider letting them have Lily. What do you know about raising a child? Adoption could be the right way to go. We can set it up so that you oversee her trust fund.”

Grant still couldn’t get over the fact that a couple had showed up at the funeral saying they were his stepmother’s family members. The man had then informed Grant that they were planning to file for custody of Lily.

His sister. His family. She should be with him.

Why he felt so strongly about that he had no idea. Did he still think he needed to prove something to his father? That shouldn’t matter. He’d spent most of his adult life fighting with the man. He was gone now. A dejected feeling settled over Grant. No matter how bad it had been between them he still hated knowing his father was gone forever.

Grant look down at Lily. “What do we know about these people?”

“Based on a preliminary report of the Armsteads, they look like the perfect couple to take in a child.”

“And I’m not,” Grant snapped. “What about the lifestyle I can offer her?”

“To be quite frank, it won’t matter.”

“So what would make a difference?”

Leon sighed. “The court likes to see children going to a couple. If you were married it would help your case one hundred percent. You’re the closest relative. You have the means and ability to care for her. I don’t see a judge, even the most conservative one, going against you.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I need to find a wife,” Grant said flatly.

“In a word, yes.”

Sara Marcum still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to take this job. She pulled her beat-up car into the curved brick drive of a two-story mansion in Highland Park, the poshest section of Chicago, Illinois. The yard was so manicured each blade of grass stood at attention.

Kim, a nursing friend who worked at the hospital, had called her that evening and told her about Dr. Smythe’s desperate need for a nanny. Knowing Sara was available, she’d given her the doctor’s address and asked her to go there immediately. The problem was that Sara wasn’t nanny material. She wanted nothing to do with caring for a child.

“You have a big heart, Sara, you’re just the person to help this guy out,” Kim had insisted. “It’s just temporary and the money’s good.”

Currently between hospice nursing positions, Sara wasn’t sure she could return to doing that type of work. She had loved and hated her job. After Mr. Elliott, one of her favorite patients, had died painfully over many weeks it had become too much. When he’d passed away Sara had decided it was time for a change. She needed to get away to recover but couldn’t afford not to have any income. The need for her father and herself to eat and have a roof over their heads took priority. Which was the only reason she’d agreed to consider this nanny position.

Her cellphone rang as she drove up the drive. “Hey, Dad.”

“We’ve have a problem, little girl.” Sara had long since outgrown the nickname but her father continued to call her that.

“What’s wrong now?” She was so tired of fighting off creditors.

“Mr. Cutter just came by. He’s evicting us.”

She gripped the steering-wheel. “He’s what? He can’t do that!”

“Well, he is. He has someone who wants the apartment.”

“I told him I would get the rent caught up as soon as I could. I paid an entire month just a few weeks ago.” She wanted to scream. Would it ever end?

Growing up, she’d known her father had worked hard to make ends meet. After his accident, finances had become ever tighter. He now received disability but nothing else. The company had managed to see that he was blamed for the explosion and had awarded him no compensation. She’d wanted a nursing degree so badly she’d gone into debt to get it. It had taken her years but she had paid her loans off. Yet here she was, trying to survive again.

“I reminded him but he doesn’t care. He wants us out by the end of the week.”

Sara gave an exasperated sigh. She was tired of moving. Now she had to do it again. But to where?

They had been doing well. She’d had some savings and had even been starting to look into buying a house when her father had answered a telemarketing call. Lonely and at home by himself too much, he had been the perfect victim for a fast-talking salesmen to take advantage of. Before he’d been done, all of her father’s money had been invested in land in Florida that didn’t exist and most of hers was going to keeping her father’s doctor’s bills in check. Even with this job she would barely keep their financial heads above water.

“I’ve got to go, Dad. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” But what? She rang off.

She pulled to a stop in front of the house. Before she had completely climbed out of the car a tall man holding a baby tightly to his chest was hovering over her. In his arms the child was but a tiny bundle. “What took you so long?”

Going motionless, Sara held his gaze for a moment. The baby cried out.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said over the infant’s wailing. “They’re waiting on me in the OR. Can you please just come in?”

He rushed inside the house, leaving the door wide open. The baby’s bellows filled the air.

Unable to bear the little one’s distress, Sara slammed her car door and hastily followed them. She stopped in the hallway.

The man thrust the babe into her hands. “Will you please take her? I have to go.”

Sara grasped the baby with a growing knot in her throat. She’d told Kim she couldn’t do this. But she had insisted. Why did every child have to bring back the fear of getting too close? That horrible ache that never seemed to ease. Sara looked into the infant’s face. That was a mistake. “Go?”

“I’ll be back later,” Dr. Smythe announced. “Everything you should need...” he pointed toward the back of the house and up the large staircase “...is in the kitchen or upstairs in the nursery.”

“Dr. Smythe—”

“No time.” He picked up his keys from the table in the foyer and headed for the open door.

Sara hurried after him and called, “You can’t just leave.”

“Can’t talk right now.”

“I don’t care if I’m being evicted or not, you’re not paying me enough for you to just dump this child in my arms and leave! Come back here.”

“We’ll go over things later.” He was gone. The large door closed with a thump behind him.

Sara stood there in disbelief, looking down at the unhappy child in her arms. He’d handed the baby over with no thought. Nothing like her reaction when, as a surrogate mother, she’d given up a baby. If she’d have been able to, she would have hung on for dear life. But that hadn’t been the agreement. She still carried the pain. For her there was nothing cavalier about relinquishing a baby.

What had she gotten herself into? She’d known this wasn’t a good idea. But she was here now. Sighing, she had no choice but to see to the baby for the time being. Leaving the baby by itself wasn’t an option. Sara would never, ever do that. When the presumptuous doctor returned she would tell him that this arrangement wasn’t going to work. She would still need to figure out something for her and her father. Maybe she could make Mr. Cutter see reason. Working for Dr. Smythe wasn’t the answer.

Walking across the black-and-white-tiled floor, she entered the living area. It was the most un-child-friendly place she’d ever seen. With overstuffed white sofas and chairs sitting on plush white carpet, she could only hope there was never any red juice in this child’s life.

Heavens, she didn’t even know if the baby was a boy or a girl, much less its name. The infant let out another scream.

It must be time for a diaper change and a bottle. Then she would put the tyke down for the night. There must be a nursery somewhere but for now the kitchen would have to do. At least she could find some food for the child. If she focused on the practical, maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about the emotional part of working with a baby.

Sara gathered what looked like a diaper bag and headed down the wide main hall in search of the kitchen. It turned out to be a wide, spacious room with large windows overlooking a swimming pool. A small house sat beyond. The garden surrounding the area was green and immaculate, like the front lawn. If she had ever imagined a perfect kitchen, this would have been it. She’d heard of the Smythes and their status in the community but to live in this opulence was far beyond what she was used to. The baby whined. Sara jiggled it.

Dropping the diaper bag on a padded bar stool, she walked to the corner area of the room near the table. There she found an infant seat that could be set on the table. She strapped the baby in, leaving the bouncer on the floor while she hunted for formula. Not seeing any on the counter, she checked in the refrigerator. Inside were already prepared bottles. Setting one on the bar, she lifted the baby seat up and, after heating the bottle to the right temperature, started feeding the child.

The baby’s angry face turned angelic in its eagerness to eat. At least someone was happy. Something that simple tugged at Sara’s heart. What would it have been like to see Emily smile with this kind of pleasure? She had to forget that time. It was gone. But she couldn’t forget. Still clung to those precious days.

Grant stretched his arms out, waiting as the surgical tech slipped the green gown over his arms and went around him to tie it in the back. Had he lost his mind?

He knew nothing about babies. Hadn’t wanted to know anything about them. Now one had been plopped into his lap. More amazing was that he planned to fight to keep her.

Grant’s teen years hadn’t been easy between him and his father, but his parents’ divorce had made it even worse. His father had left his mother. The breakup had devastated her. She’d taken it so hard Grant had feared that she might be committed. With his parents divorced and his older brother living in a commune in California, all his mother’s care had fallen on Grant. Thankfully he had convinced her to get help. Now she was living in Florida and by all accounts doing well.

To strain the relationship further, his father had ended up marrying Evelyn, the girl Grant had been in love with. Even at thirty-two, being betrayed by them had been the final slap in the face Grant had been willing to take. Trust had been hard to regain. His interactions with his father and Evelyn had been few and far between over the last two years. His father had made an effort but Grant had been unable to forgive him. Learning that he and Evelyn had had a baby only disgusted him more.

“Dr. Smythe, they’re waiting for you in surgery,” another tech called.

Grant shouldered his way through the swinging OR doors and into the room. The patient, a middle aged man, already waited on the table. “Sorry I’m late,” Grant said to the room in general before asking the anesthesiologist, “John, is everything ready to go?”

“Patient is stable,” John answered.

Grant stepped up beside Jane, the woman who was dressed much as he was. She was just months away from finishing her training as a transplant surgeon. “Where’s the liver?”

“Thirty minutes out,” Jane answered.

He nodded. Looking at the patient, he could see Jane was already in the process of opening. “Good, then let’s get this patient ready to receive his new liver. He has a family waiting.”

Here in this OR Grant was in control, the best at what he did. He appreciated order. Outside, life was more difficult, unexpected. Now that his father and stepmother were gone, he had to admit to a tinge of guilt over his father dying with their relationship in shambles. When Grant had learned his father hadn’t updated his will after Lily’s birth he’d found it difficult to believe. With his brother unavailable, Grant had been the next in line to receive custody of Lily. He couldn’t let his newborn sister be taken by state services, could he? How would his father have felt about that? He didn’t want to give her up to Evelyn’s aunt and uncle either. This was one task he would demonstrate himself worthy of.

“Doctor, the organ is here.”

A man entered, carrying a cooler. The pace would pick up and Grant would have to apply all his energy to seeing that the bad liver was removed and the new one put into place. He wouldn’t have time to think about Lily.

With the blood vessels clamped off and the organ removed, Grant inspected the new one. “It looks good. Let’s get this done.” Gently he placed the liver into the cavity and began stitching the vessels to it. The phone of the OR wall rang. Grant continued to work.

“Dr. Smythe, it’s for you.”

His brow wrinkled. “Who is it?”

The nursed asked, then called, “It’s a woman who says she’s your nanny.”

“What the hell?” he murmured. Louder, he said, “I can’t speak to her right now.”

The nurse relayed the message. “She is being rather insistent.”

He huffed. “Jane,” he said to the fellow, “would you please check for bleeding and start closing while I get this?”

A soft mumble followed him to the phone. His colleagues must find the situation curious. It was out of character for him to take a call while in the OR. He had a good relationship with his team but he was also known for not tolerating interruptions during surgeries.

He resisted grabbing the phone out of the nurse’s hand. “This had better be good,” he growled into it. “I’m in the middle of surgery.”

There was silence on the other end. Finally a voice said, “It’s Sara Marcum. I’m sorry, I had no idea that they would put me through to the OR.”

That eased his aggravation a little. “Now that you have me, what do you need?”

“It’s late. Since we had no time to talk I wanted to know if I’m supposed to stay the night. I didn’t come prepared for that. I have a father who is expecting me home.”

Grant hadn’t thought of that as he’d rushed out of the house. He’d just assumed... “Yes, I am going to need you tonight. Every night. If you’ll please just make do for now, I promise tomorrow I’ll give you a full list of your responsibilities. I need to get back to my case.”

“I have responsibilities as well but I’ll be here with the baby until you come home.”

“Thank you.” He hung up the phone. What responsibilities? Could hers be more important than a baby or a lifesaving transplant? He paused for a second. Hadn’t she said something about being evicted? Maybe she had gigantic problems as well. He’d get this transplant patient taken care of first and then head for the house. Losing a nanny again wasn’t what he needed.

As he returned to the table his team gave him questioning looks over their masks. He shrugged. “I was given custody of a baby and have a new nanny. Now, can we get this patient closed and out to ICU?”

Sara hung up the phone. Dr. Smythe hadn’t been happy with her call but he’d left her no choice by leaving so abruptly. With an eviction on the horizon she needed the money this job would bring, but she wouldn’t allow anyone to treat her unprofessionally. He had almost done so by all but throwing the child at her and leaving.

It was time to find that nursery. Sara cradled the baby in her arms and, with the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she climbed the wide circular staircase to the second floor. Going along the passageway, she searched each room for one that looked like a baby’s room. At the end of the hall, across from the master bedroom, she found a small slice of heaven.

The walls were painted the palest pink. She’d had a pink room growing up. It had been that color when her mother had left. When this little girl became old enough, would she think she had done something wrong to make her mother leave, as she herself had? She hoped not.

Above a snowy-colored crib draped in rosy colored netting was the name ‘Lily’ in white letters on the wall. Lily. Pretty name.

Sara had been in such a hurry on the phone she’d forgotten to ask Lily’s name. It was nice to have one to call her. Sara looked down into the big eyes watching her. The baby looked like a Lily. The disadvantage to knowing her name was that it was another step closer to giving them a personal connection. Knowing someone’s name made you care more, the very thing Sara wanted to guard against.

The regal room fit Lily perfectly. Moving across the thick carpet of a similar quality to what was downstairs, Sara placed the baby in the bed.

What had Dr. Smythe been thinking? Only about himself, handing his child over without so much as telling Sara her name?

The medical field was a small world and she’d heard talk about the young dynamic doctor who did surgery with skill and precision. Still, to give your baby to someone you didn’t know and rush off without concern spoke of self-centeredness, even neglect. Hadn’t her mother done something similar with her? Sara had grown up thinking she’d caused her to leave. No child should wonder something like that.

Locating the diaper stacker on the closed double doorknob, she had Lily changed in no time. Her job as a nursing aide during her school years had been teaching summer help how to change diapers. Back then she’d enjoyed working with babies. Now she usually steered clear of them.

Lifting Lily off the bed with her little limbs flailing, Sara went to the rocker next to a window that looked down over the garden. A large oak limb hung just outside. Every child should have such an idyllic place to live. Sara watched Lily as she placed the nipple of the warmed bottle to hungry lips.

For a brief time Sara would dedicate herself to meeting Lily’s physical needs. The emotional ones would be seen to by her father. Sara wouldn’t let herself get too close. She was well aware of how hard it was to pull away.

With Lily settled in her crib, Sara chose the bedroom nearest the nursery as hers for the night. It had been an exhausting day and she was soon asleep.

Grant returned to the house around midnight. The surgery had gone well and all he wanted was a soft bed and some sleep. He had spent the travel time out to Highland Park thinking about what he’d have to do to get permanent custody of Lily. Could he marry just to keep her? Some part of him hated the possibility of losing her while the other worried about making such a drastic decision. Was he the best choice to raise her? Would his father be pleased he was taking such an interest in Lily?

The one thing he did know was that he would do a better job than his father had done with him. Lily wouldn’t always feel as if she didn’t measure up or was unloved if she messed up. She would know she was supported, no matter what.

He’d been on a major adrenaline rush since his father had died. What if he was just making decisions based on sentiment instead of rational thought? Was he thinking he could make his dead father happy by taking care of Lily or was he doing it to get back at Evelyn for treating him the way she had?

It didn’t matter what his motive was, he wanted to keep Lily and if that meant taking a wife then he would do it. None of the women he’d dated recently or in the past would fit that position. Even if he could get one of them to agree. They would be more interested in their looks and spending his money than they would be in Lily.

Maybe Evelyn’s aunt and uncle were the answer. Lily could have a home, people who really wanted her. But he did too. Was he prepared to devote the next eighteen to twenty-two years of his life to someone other than himself? He thumped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Lily should be with him and he intended to fight to keep her, even if it meant he had to marry.

Grant pulled into one of the three bays of the carport in the back of the house. He unlocked and opened the door to the kitchen. Quiet greeted him. There was a light on under the counter. When was the last time someone had left one on in anticipation of his return?

He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and headed to the refrigerator. Taking out the milk, he was in the process of pouring it when the pixie-sized nanny burst into the kitchen, holding an umbrella as if she was prepared for a fight.

Grant jerked upright. Milk spilled across the granite countertop and streamed onto the floor. Grimacing at the mess, he snarled, “Hell, woman, you almost scared me to death.”

“How do you think I feel? Waking up in this hulking house to hear a door shut?”

“I told you I’d be home tonight.”

“After the way you left, I was supposed to believe you?”

Grant hung his head. He deserved that. His leaving had been rather abrupt. “I owe you an apology.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

With large brown eyes, her shoulder-length hair in disarray around her face, she captured his attention. She wore the same T-shirt she’d had on earlier and jeans. Most women he knew wouldn’t have been caught dead without every hair in place. Not this one.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll talk while I clean this mess up.”

“It’s late. Aren’t you tired?”

“Beat. But I don’t know if I can be counted on to be here in the morning.” He tried for one of his most charming smiles. “And I don’t want to take the chance that you might use that umbrella on me.”

She looked at the instrument, as if she’d forgotten she held it, then at him. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. Lily will be awake again soon.”

His father and Evelyn had named Lily after his paternal grandmother. Grant had once confided in Evelyn that he wanted to give the name to a daughter one day. He’d trusted her with that knowledge and she’d violated it. It was just another example of how she and his father had cared nothing about his feelings. He’d sworn he’d never trust that freely again. With every woman since Evelyn he’d been cautious about what he revealed about himself. If he didn’t let a woman get to know him too well then he didn’t have to worry about being hurt by her. Show no weakness.

That had been the problem with his father. He’d used it against him. Grant had wanted to impress him, wanted to do the right thing in his eyes, but nothing had seemed to please him. Grant had worked at it as a kid and even as an adult, hating himself for caring what his father thought but still trying to please. Maybe raising Lily was just one more way of proving he was good enough. Irony. The way to say I told you so. He was disgusted with himself. Even with his father gone, he was still trying to demonstrate himself worthy of being his son.

The nanny—he wished he could remember her name—had hung the umbrella on the back of a chair at the table and sat down. She had an expectant expression on her face.

Grant grabbed a dishrag and started mopping up the milk. What had she told him her name was over the phone? When Kim had called that afternoon he’d been looking for paper and pencil to write it down but Lily had started crying.

Tossing the rag in the sink, he dropped into the chair at the end of the table. “I’m sorry, I can’t for the life of me come up with your name.”

She raised a finely groomed eyebrow. “Let me get this right. You’re not even sure that I’m the person you were expecting? What if I had kidnapped Lily? You couldn’t even tell the police my name.” She leaned toward him, her voice rising with indignation. “I sure hope you show more concern for your patients.”

Okay, he deserved some of what she said but he was a fine doctor and refused to take that comment about his professionalism. “I’ll have you know that my patients take precedence with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. I saw an example this afternoon.”

He’d walked into that one.