than you expect?”
“I’m sure at times it will be,” she said steadily. “And at those times I will love my child just the same.” She chose her words carefully. “Dr. Cross, life is often not what we expect. I have learned that several times over. But I would never, ever take on a responsibility like this if I wasn’t ready to give it one hundred percent.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” His voice softened and he scribbled something in her folder. “Honestly, I am. However, I’m sure you understand that we need to explore this further. It’s our standard operating procedure.”
She glanced at the desk. Did he have some sort of checklist he had to go through? “Okay,” she said, resigned. “Explore away. We’ll do it your way. I want you to feel as comfortable with this as I do.”
He gave her the look a teacher might give a mischievous child. “Now you’re suddenly feeling cooperative?”
“I’m suddenly feeling that I have no choice.”
He shrugged and gave her a quick smile. “That will do, I guess. So tell me, do you have any experience with children?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Not exactly.”
“Hmm.” He leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers before his face. “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”
“Does a person have to have experience with children in order to have one?” she countered.
“Not necessarily—”
“Good. Because I’m perfectly willing to learn on the job.”
He kept his eyes on her for a moment, then made another note. She tried to see what he was writing but couldn’t.
“Am I getting points against me for that?” she asked. “What are you writing?”
He looked at her with exaggerated patience. “I’m just making a few notes to myself.”
“Care to share them?”
He looked at his pad, then set it down. “Okay. You want me to be blunt, I’ll be blunt. I don’t think you know what you’re getting into. It may not be what you expect, and if it’s not what you expect, your disappointment may become evident to the child. The best way to fix a mistake is not to make it in the first place.”
“Dr. Cross.” Melanie used her most authoritative voice. “While I do appreciate your candor, it doesn’t sound to me as if you’re trying to help me make this decision at all. It sounds as if you’re trying to talk me out of it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Does it?”
She’d had enough therapy after her parents’ deaths to recognize the basic psychological trick of making her reveal some hidden truth by encouraging her to talk. In this case, presumably, the truth he had in mind was her secret wish to be talked out of having a baby.
“Yes, it does,” she said. “I’m willing to discuss this with you and reassure you and the clinic that I’m a good candidate, but it seems to me that in order for this to work, you must be impartial. To insure that I’m committed to the child’s welfare, not to waste valuable time—yours and mine—trying to talk me out of my decision.”
“Are you afraid I will talk you out of it?”
“Not at all.” She tried to maintain her calm. “Look, as you are aware, the timing of this treatment relies on…” She searched for a delicate way to put it. “…my monthly cycle. I’m afraid that we will waste so much time driving down this dead-end road that we’ll miss this month’s, er, window of opportunity, that the entire process will be delayed. You’ve got my chart there, I assume. So you know I might need many attempts and that, even then, the chances of it working are slim. I don’t want to wait. Surely you can understand that.”
He looked at the chart, and his expression, when he looked back at her, was more compassionate. “I do sympathize with your concern. But surely you understand that I can’t rush things simply because a patient may have trouble conceiving.”
“If it’s possible at all,” she said, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. Stay calm, she told herself. Breathe.
“If it’s possible at all,” he agreed.
She took a moment to collect herself, then asked, “All right, what do I have to do to convince you?”
“Slow down a little. Truthfully, Miss Tourbier, I’m less concerned with your complete lack of experience with children than I am with your all-fired determination to do this so quickly despite the inexperience.”
He didn’t think she could do it. He wasn’t even going to give her a chance. He was going to take his little notes and then recommend to the clinic that she was a bad candidate for the treatment. Her dreams for a child, or children, would be blown out like a match, on this one man’s whim.
“Please, Dr. Cross,” she said, her heart beginning to ache. “What can I do to prove to you that I’m ready for this?”
He tapped his pen on the paper a couple of times, then let go of it.
Melanie watched it clatter on his desk.
“I have a suggestion,” he said.
Hope surged in her. He hadn’t written her off yet.
Not that he had the right to simply write her off.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Actually, it’s more of a challenge. Or—” he lowered his chin and looked at her seriously “—you might even call it a dare.”
Two
“A dare?” Melanie repeated, frowning. “Okay, I’m listening. What is it?” She looked like a gambler, waiting to see where the ball would settle on the roulette wheel.
Jared Cross sensed that this was a woman who was used to taking chances, who perhaps even relished them.
His mind strayed to the tabloid newspaper article he had in his file. His secretary had showed it to him, thinking it was cool that such a major celebrity was coming to the clinic. Jared hadn’t shared her enthusiasm, particularly once he’d read the article. Granted, it was a tabloid and he took everything he read with a grain of salt, but several facts were unrefuted: one, that Miss Tourbier’s lover was married, and two, that they’d behaved indiscreetly in front of the man’s children.
Of course, it had been a couple of years ago, according to the article, which described a book that was coming out detailing the affair. Perhaps she’d learned something from it. Perhaps she was more responsible now, at least about what she did or did not do in front of children.
That was the kind of thing he needed to determine.
He would be fair, despite her obvious and unfounded fear that he was against her.
He leaned toward her, elbows on his desk. This plan, he knew, would benefit everyone involved. “I challenge you to volunteer for, say, two
