As a devastating summer storm hits Grand Springs, Colorado, the next thirty-six hours will change the town and its residents forever…
From the first moment she sees him, nurse Bethany Kent falls in love with little baby Christopher, who’s been abandoned by his mother. She dreams of adopting him, but in small town Grand Springs she’ll need a husband in order to adopt a child.
Dr. Tony Petrocelli has a reputation for romance. In reality, he’s tired of short-term relationships and intrigued by Bethany. And if he’s going to get that promotion to Head of Obstetrics, he needs to show the Board he’s a stable family man by getting married.
A marriage of convenience can help them both. As long as Tony never learns Beth’s secret, it’s the perfect solution….
Book 8 of the 36 Hours series. Don’t miss Book 9: A straight-arrow cop is attracted to his prime suspect in a murder investigation in Partners in Crime by award-winning author Alicia Scott.
Marriage by Contract
Sandra Steffen
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
Prologue
June 6, 1997, 10:00 p.m.
“Somebody help me. It hurts. Make it stop. Please, make it stop.”
Bethany Kent placed an ice pack on a patient’s swollen wrist, her feet already moving in the direction of the quavering voice. Wheelchairs and gurneys blocked her path, and men, women and children all looked up as she passed, worry and pain and shock in their eyes.
It had been almost three hours since a mud slide took out the power in Grand Springs, Colorado, and the rain had yet to let up. Most of the people were here tonight because of car accidents due to the mud, the driving rain and the absence of street and traffic lights throughout the city. Some had sustained injuries from falling down stairs or tripping over furniture. Even the mayor had been brought in—the victim of an apparent heart attack. Beth was nearly asleep on her feet, and there was no end in sight.
Thunder rolled in from the mountains, rattling the windows and stirring up the overwrought patients huddled together in the emergency room. The lights dimmed, sending a hush from one end of the room to the other. An old man’s gravelly voice cut through the tense silence. “The generator’s going out. Without lights, the doctors will have to wait until morning to fix us up.”
Others took up the cry. By the time Beth slid her arm around the teenage girl who was doubled over in pain near the door, some of the patients were rocking back and forth, others were starting to wail.
In a voice as sure and steady as her hands, Beth said, “I’ve worked in the ER long enough to know the ins and outs of the generators Vanderbilt Memorial uses during emergencies such as this one. And believe me, the lights are not going to go out.”
Turning her attention to the girl who was moaning softly, she ignored the sheen of perspiration dampening the hair on her own forehead, and placed her hand on the girl’s abdomen, which was taut with another contraction. “Dave,” she called to a clerk near the desk on the other side of the room. “Find Dr. Petrocelli. Stat. Tell him we have another mother in labor.”
The girl tried to straighten but couldn’t. “I can’t have the baby yet. It’s ten weeks early.”
Beth did her best to hide the anxiety twisting the knot in her stomach as Dr. Amanda Jennings joined her. A baby born ten weeks premature would be tiny, its lungs dangerously underdeveloped. As the two women helped the young mother to a vacant wheelchair, Beth had her first glimpse of pale skin, big eyes and a narrow face framed with a tangle of wet, dark hair sticking out of a tattered baseball cap. Sweet heaven, the girl was just a baby herself.
“What’s your name?”
