The Husband Project

Alison rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet.”

He hadn’t let go of her, she realized. His arm was still around her shoulders. She could feel the rough tweed of his sleeve even through the lightweight knit of her exercise suit. And was it a sudden warm lake breeze which stirred the hair at her temple, or his breath? He seemed to have forgotten how close he was standing.

Well, that problem was easy to fix. She’d give him her best glare and say something cutting...

She looked up at him, and in the split second before she opened her mouth she saw the answer to her problems.

“Dr. Kavanaugh,” she said abruptly. “Will you help me have a baby?”

CHAPTER TWO

ALISON was absolutely certain of one thing; no amount of sarcasm could have made him let go of her any more quickly than that simple statement did.

Logan’s arm dropped as if he’d suddenly realized her shoulders were coated with acid, and he backed away till he was leaning against the terrace rail, a safe distance from her. A casual observer would no doubt think his .professional control was undisturbed, for his face was calm. Alison knew better; she could see the incredulity in those brilliant green eyes.

“For heaven’s sake,” she said testily. “You’re a doctor who specializes in women. You must know how—” For the first time, she realized that there. was an entirely different interpretation to her question than the one she had meant.

He obviously saw the double meaning hit her, for a sparkle of humor appeared in his eyes. “If you’re asking whether I know where babies come from, I am familiar with the basics.”

“I’m sure that’s quite a comfort to your patients.” Alison’s voice was chilly. “Let’s get this straight, however. Don’t flatter yourself that I had you in mind as a potential father.”

“And that,” he murmured, “is quite a comfort to me. Do I understand that you want to use a medical procedure usually reserved for infertile couples in order to have a child?”

Alison relaxed just a little. “That’s it, yes.”

“Well, excuse me if this is a stupid question—but why not just go about it in the old-fashioned way?”

“I don’t see any need to explain. Will you help me or not?”

He looked thoughtful. “Without an idea of what’s going on inside your head? I’d sooner bodysurf across Lake Michigan on a stormy day.”

“And if I explain?”

“Depends on the explanation. To be perfectly honest, I’d still put the odds at about seven to three against, but I’m willing to listen.” He folded his arms across his chest and settled his hip against the terrace rail as if he was prepared to stay there all day.

Alison drew a long breath, hesitated, wet her lips. It shouldn’t be so difficult to say the words, she told herself. Her reasons made perfect sense; any intelligent person could surely understand why she’d come to this conclusion. But her tongue felt numb and three times its normal size.

Partly, she realized, her paralysis was because of the way he was studying her. The last time he’d looked her over, in the emergency room, he’d been watching for symptoms. Now he wasn’t—unless of course he suspected she was a mental case—and though his gaze was no more personal, it was an entirely different kind of survey.

And she was entirely different, too. She wasn’t twisted with pain, flat on her back, her hair mussed and sweaty and her face stark white. She wondered what he thought of the difference.

He shifted slightly against the wrought iron. “If you’re going to tell me that there isn’t even one man in your life, forget it. I don’t buy it.” Another man might have give the line a suggestive twist, or turned it into a compliment. Logan made it sound like the stock report.

Annoyed, Alison said, “Of course there are men in my life. In fact, that’s part of the problem—there are too many men.”

His eyebrows soared. “Oh, this ought to be good,” he muttered. “No, let me guess. They’d all be hurt if you chose one of the others, so to keep things in balance you’re looking for an anonymous donor. Of course, this makes perfect sense.”

Alison glared at him. “I have an incredible number of male friends,” she began. “The key word being friends. I’d like them all to still be friends when this is over. If I had even a short-term affair with one of them, the whole situation would change.”

“Well, now that you mention it—”

“Once there’s a more intimate relationship, it’s impossible to return to real, ordinary friendship.”

“And there’s not a single one of your friends you’d sacrifice for the cause?” Logan murmured.

“There’s also the problem that whichever man I chose would know he was the father of my child, and that could create all sorts of difficulties.”

Logan snapped his fingers. “I have it. If you expand this short-term affair to include all of them, everybody would still be on equal terms with you, and none of them would know who—”

Alison raised her voice. “This is hardly the sort of professional discussion I was looking for, Dr. Kavanaugh.”

“Not even you would know. It’s the perfect—” Logan broke off. “Of course, I suppose they could all line up for DNA tests... Sorry. You’re right, of course. I’ll try to stay focused. Do go on.”

“The father of a child has certain rights.”

“To say nothing of responsibilities,” Logan murmured.

“That doesn’t concern me. Financially, I can support a child easily. I could even take a baby to work with me. And I have no doubt that I’ll be a good parent.”

“Singular. Have you considered that maybe the kid would like to have a father, too?”

“Wouldn’t they all? The fact is, some kids are better off with only one parent. In a good many cases it isn’t having a single parent that’s the problem, it’s being torn apart by the conflict between mother and father.”

Logan didn’t seem to disagree; at least, he stayed silent.

“And I’d be better at the job than most. If you’re worried about who will teach my little boy to pitch a baseball—I will. And I can do anything else that comes along, too.”

He began to applaud. “Brava, brava!”

“I just want a child,” Alison said mulishly. “I don’t want to give some man the right to interfere in my life—and my child’s—for the next eighteen years. I don’t want to mess around with every-other-weekend visitations and arguments about when the kid needs a haircut. Is that so unreasonable?”

“Obviously you’re going to tell me why it isn’t.” he murmured.

“I’d gladly agree never to ask for financial support in return for a promise not to seek parental rights.”

“Now you’re talking. I suspect a lot of men would think that kind of a deal was pretty inviting—they could have all the fun and none of the responsibility.”

“But that’s just it. I know my promise is good, but how could I know he meant what he said? And even if he felt that way now, how could I be certain it would continue?”

“Make him sign something,” Logan suggested.

“Do you honestly think that would do any good? If he came back in a year or two or five and wanted to mess up my child, what’s going to stop him from suing me? All you have to do is read the front pages to know it’s a lot harder for the courts to terminate a father’s rights than it used to be. Even adoption isn’t always final these days.”

“Alison, this is a charming argument, but—”

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, but I haven’t suggested you use my first name. Or do your patients call you Logan?”

“Quite a number of them do. In any -case, it’s a moot point, since you’re not my patient and you’re not going to be.”