Prescription: Marry Her Immediately

889—SURPRISE, DOC! YOU’RE A DADDY!

913—THE IMPROPERLY PREGNANT PRINCESS

962—DIAGNOSIS: EXPECTING BOSS’S BABY * (#litres_trial_promo)

971—PRESCRIPTION: MARRY HER IMMEDIATELY * (#litres_trial_promo)

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

435—AND THE BRIDE VANISHES

512—HIS SECRET SON

550—CAPTURED BY A SHEIKH

Contents

Chapter One (#u1f98bd06-0622-50ba-8b41-63046c27a9e8)

Chapter Two (#u4b956817-21b8-57e5-b2aa-b2d8d825db5d)

Chapter Three (#u8b3cdd23-efcb-5644-86ce-07bb7b41ddfe)

Chapter Four (#ueee508d2-0ccf-5589-a619-50123cbe7900)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

The newborn waved her tiny fists as she lay along Dr. Quentin Ladd’s arm with her head cradled in his hand. Her face, still red from the journey into life, quirked with a hint of a smile.

“Seven pounds, three ounces. Ten fingers and toes,” he told her, and double-checked the name on the bassinet. “Lisa, you passed your first test with flying colors. Next stop, Harvard.”

Baby-blue eyes blinked at him, not quite focusing. Then she sneezed.

“That’s good,” Quent said. “You can clear your airways with the best of them. I knew you were a winner.”

He’d made a thorough test of her reflexes, heartbeat, breathing and other parameters. All normal. He was glad for her sake and for that of her numerous doting relatives, who had overflowed the waiting room during her birth.

It was one more happy event for Doctors Circle, a private hospital and clinic established in Serene Beach, California, to ensure the best care for mothers, would-be mothers and their babies. As a newly minted neonatologist, Quent had been thrilled when he was invited to join the staff a couple of months ago.

While he was gently replacing the baby beneath her warmer light, Lisa’s gaze connected, ever so briefly, with his. A sense of wonder spread through Quent as the little girl’s future shimmered before him, from her first step to the day she would hold a baby of her own.

Where had all that come from? It wasn’t as if he were going to be spending a lot of time with this particular infant, cute as she was. But it gave Quent a gut-level appreciation for the joy he saw on the faces of new fathers. Babies had always interested him from a clinical point of view, but lately he’d begun to take a more personal interest. This was the most intense experience yet.

Perhaps it was because he’d spent so much time this past year with his now fifteen-month-old niece and four-year-old nephew. Or maybe it had something to do with finally, at age twenty-nine, having finished his training and taken his place as a full-fledged specialist.

Turning away, he stripped off his gloves and picked up his clipboard to finish his notes. Then, smiling, Quent paced through the dimly lit nursery, saying hello to babies he’d checked in the past day or two. He would see them again when their parents brought them for regular care at the Well-Baby Clinic in an adjacent building, where he spent most of his hours.

Before leaving the nursery, he removed his white coverall and stuffed it into a laundry container to be sterilized. A nurse, Sue Anne, greeted him with a flare of interest on her face.

Quent wasn’t sure why he didn’t invite her to join him for dinner, since it was almost five o’clock on a Friday night. She was pretty and friendly, and, until recently, he’d enjoyed playing the field. These days, though, he’d lost interest in spending time with anyone except his best buddy.

Having a woman, even a colleague like psychologist Amy Ravenna, as his best buddy was unusual, he supposed. Still, they’d started attending ball games and playing sports together as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and going with the flow suited Quent.

Speak of the devil, when he emerged from the nursery, there she stood, Amy in the flesh, gazing through the window at the babies. Among the usual scattering of cooing grandparents, aunts and uncles, her tall, slim figure stood out.

In profile to him, Amy studied first one baby, then another. As the staff psychologist, she must be treating the parents of one or more infants, Quent figured. Checking out the newborns apparently figured into her counseling strategy, although he could have sworn he saw wistfulness in her expression.

He’d never met anyone with such an intriguing mixture of professionalism and tomboy enthusiasm. It amused him to see how, this late in the day, her black French braid was beginning to unravel behind her tailored suit jacket.

“Hey,” he said.

Startled, Amy swung around. “Oh! Hi, Quent.” He noticed, as he did every time he saw her, how stunning she was, with her high cheekbones and lively dark eyes, and how utterly unaware she was of it. No wonder she had to fend men off with a stick.

“What brings you here?” With a teasing note, he added, “Coming to see me, I hope.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Before I left for the day, I wanted to ask you about the rain,” she said.

“It’s raining?” Mid-November was well into the southern California rainy season, but it had been only partly cloudy earlier this afternoon.

“Not yet. It’s in the forecast for tomorrow. We’re supposed to catch the tail of a hurricane that’s lingering down off Mexico,” Amy said. “Do you want to cancel our plans?”

“I’m not afraid of a little water. Are you?” He already knew the answer, but challenging each other was part of the fun.