THE DOCTOR’S
PREGNANT BRIDE?
SUSAN CROSBY
AND
THE TEXAS
BILLIONAIRE’S
BABY
KAREN ROSE SMITH
MILLS & BOON
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THE DOCTOR’S
PREGNANT BRIDE?
SUSAN CROSBY
About the Author
SUSAN CROSBY believes in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true—as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things—married, had children, attended college a little later than the average co-ed and earned a BA in English. Then she dove off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.
Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and she will always believe in happily ever after.
More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.
Dear Reader,
One of life’s biggest heartbreaks can be someone’s inability to conceive a child. Doctors and researchers have worked tirelessly to change that painful situation, with increasing success. My hero, Ted Bonner, is such a doctor, a man on a mission to treat infertility. I imagine him to be like so many others in that field: dedicated, devoted and driven.
But Ted needs balance in his life, too. So along comes nurse Sara Beth O’Connell, a woman just as dedicated to her work, but one who also knows how to relax—and to love. She has a lot to teach Dr Bonner.
I had a great time playing in the same sandbox with the other terrific and talented authors in this series. I hope you enjoy the results of the fun we all had.
All my best,
Susan
To Paul, aka “Fandango,” fellow foodie, with great
appreciation—for your indefatigable help with
research, legal and otherwise, and for all the
times you crack me up. Thank you.
Chapter One
Sara Beth O’Connell slowed her bike to a stop at a red light, her gaze fixed on it. Red, the color of hearts and roses—
A car honked, jolting her into action. She pedaled through the intersection, picking up the bike lane again on the other side. The air was unusually mild and the traffic Sunday-afternoon light in Cambridge, Massachusetts, giving her time to think, time to decide that she wasn’t really bothered by not having a date on Valentine’s Day. It was more about what being dateless implied—that there was no one special enough in her life to spend the romantic evening with.
So what, right? No big deal. Only the minute hand on her biological clock was ticking, not the hour hand.
And then there was the man in the grocery store earlier …
Sara Beth tossed her head, her bike helmet preventing her long hair from falling into her face as she rode into the employee parking lot of the Armstrong Fertility Institute, the understated but modern structure where she worked as head nurse. Eyeing Lisa Armstrong’s car in the distance, she locked her bike to a rack, then moved to the employee entrance. She slid her ID card into the security reader and pressed her thumb against a pad until a buzzer went off, unlocking the door.
Once inside, her footsteps barely registered in the quiet building as she headed to Lisa’s office, finding her door open. The head administrator of the institute, a research center and fertility clinic, sat in front of her computer, her slender frame hunched, her dark eyes focused on the screen.
Sara Beth drew a calming breath, not because she was annoyed that Lisa had called her into the office on a Sunday, but because of the memory of the man Sara Beth had seen that morning buying a stuffed teddy and gummy bears for his five-year-old daughter. My Valentine, he’d called her when the clerk commented on the items. Sara Beth hadn’t been lucky enough to have a father do that for her. This morning’s reminder of that loss curled painfully inside her.
Ignoring the flash of pain, she set her helmet on top of a file cabinet, unzipped her jacket then plopped into a chair on the other side of Lisa’s desk. “What’s so all-fired important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? Or you couldn’t tell me on the phone?”
Lisa blinked. “You have something better to do?”
“Just because you work 24/7 doesn’t mean I have to, you know,” Sara Beth said, not letting Lisa off easy. “It is Valentine’s Day.”
Lisa’s smile was a little crooked. Her dark eyes shimmered knowingly. “You don’t have a date.”
“How do you know?”
“How long have we been best friends, Sara Beth?”
Sarah Beth pulled off her jacket, not wanting to make eye contact, not wanting Lisa to play the best-friends card for whatever it was she’d called Sara Beth in on a Sunday for. “Since before we spoke our first words.”
“Twenty-eight years. If you had a date tonight, I would know.” Lisa sat back, looking satisfied with herself. “You tell me everything.”
“Not everything.”
“Everything important.”
Sara Beth sniffed. “A date on Valentine’s Day isn’t important.”
Lisa laughed.
