The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / The Texas Billionaire's Baby: The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? / Baby By Surprise

One of these days he would get around to buying his own sofa.

She had a nice view of the street. Most of the houses were from the same era, some better taken care of than others. She lived only blocks from the Red Line. She could take the subway or a bus to work, the bus being more practical—

What if he factored in twice as much of the primary enzyme …?

Ted grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her kitchen counter, sat down and started making notes, getting lost in a possibility he hadn’t considered before. Later—and he had no idea how much later—he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He lifted his head so sharply he knocked into her. She yelped, fell back, grabbed her chin. He caught her by the arm to keep her from falling, the back of his hand accidentally pressing into her breast, her firm breast, surprisingly full for such a petite woman.

He let go. She steadied herself, repeatedly rubbing her chin, her cheeks flushing a little, too.

“I apologize, Sara Beth.” He gestured toward the three pieces of paper he’d been using to capture his thoughts. “I didn’t hear you. Are you all right? May I take a look?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I am a doctor, you know.”

“And I know nothing about medicine?”

He smiled at the teasing tone in her voice, ran his thumb over her chin. “Move your jaw.” Her lemon-scented perfume made his nose twitch and drew him closer. “Everything feel normal?”

“I’m fine. Really.” She stepped back, and he finally got a full picture of her. Basic black dress, with long sleeves, the neckline not too low or too high, a gold locket, her hair down and curled, high heels that gave her a few inches extra height, which was probably why he’d banged directly into her chin.

“You look nice,” he said, an understatement.

“Thank you.” She frowned slightly. “Are you sure we can pull this off? It’s kind of hard to pretend we’ve been dating when we really don’t know anything about each other.”

“We can exchange bios during the drive. If we say we’ve only recently started dating, they won’t expect us to know everything about each other.”

“Well, that much is the truth, anyway.” She grabbed her evening bag and keys. “It should be an adventure.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “And adventure is my middle name.”

He couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking, then her eyes twinkled mischievously, and he found that appealing. He tended to date serious women—

Whoa. Wait. This wasn’t a date date. This was a please-rescue-me date. No kiss good-night at the door. No how-long-should-I-wait-to-call-her? dilemma. He’d see her at work in the morning, thank her again for her favor, then it would be business as usual.

It was a good plan, a solid plan. He liked plans.

“When will we break up?” Sara Beth asked as they walked to his car.

“When you’re fed up with my lack of attention.” As usual. The most common complaint he heard from women as they exited his life was, “You forgot I existed.”

He didn’t mean to. It just happened. He put most of his energies into his research. He had a good reason to find a solution to male infertility issues soon. A very good reason.

Yes, he wanted to help mankind, but he particularly wanted to help one man. Until then, Ted had given up his goal to be more social for a personal vow instead, a promise to devote his time and energy to the cause, putting his personal life on hold until he’d accomplished his goal.

Even though he felt ready—more than ready—to marry and have children, he would delay it. He couldn’t give his time to anything else but his research, nor ask a woman to sacrifice time with him so that he could reach his personal goal.

As Ted navigated streets and bridges, he gave Sara Beth a summary of his life. “Only child. Raised by strict but kind parents. Too clumsy to play basketball, even though everyone expected me to because of my height. Total nerd. Or geek. Take your pick of insult. I participated in all the science fairs and academic decathlons.”

“And did very well, I’m sure,” Sara Beth said.

He shrugged. Bragging wasn’t part of his makeup.

“I wanted to get away from home after high school graduation, so I went to Stanford. I met Chance there. We were opposites in most ways, but both of us were determined to make a difference. We teamed up at the Breyer Medical Center in San Francisco and made some progress, but we didn’t have the freedom to work in the way we needed. When Paul Armstrong extended the offer to come here, we said yes.” Immediately. No hesitation at all. “How about you?”

“I’m also an only child, and my mother was strict but kind, but I was a jock. Played soccer from age five through high school and loved it. I didn’t have any interest in leaving home, which is why I went to BC, and because of the institute’s scholarship. I’d been working there since I was sixteen, starting as a part-time file clerk. I’ve never worked anywhere else.”

“So you work there because you feel obligated?”

She didn’t say anything for a while, then, “In some respects that’s true, but I believe in what they do, and it’s a comfortable place for me. Lisa and I have been best friends all our lives, and so I spent a lot of time at the Armstrong home. I know her sister and brothers. Her father was always very kind to me, and my mother loved working for him. In fact, she was his first employee, was even kind of a girl Friday as well as his nurse until they got so big they needed more help.”

She sat up straighter and looked around as he turned onto his parents’ street. “Um, where are we?”

“Mount Vernon Square.”

“As in, Beacon Hill?” she asked, sounding slightly short of horrified.

“Yes.”

“I see,” she said tightly. “And where do you live?”

“Back Bay.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then glanced at her dress. “Are you sure I’m dressed up enough?”

“You look fine.” He almost said beautiful, which was the truth, but caught himself in time figuring she wouldn’t believe him.

She went silent. He continued to talk as if nothing had changed, offering more family information, asking more questions of her, getting subdued answers. But when they arrived, he felt prepared to answer the basic questions his parents might put forward.

Ted let himself and Sara Beth into the 150-year-old Victorian house where he’d grown up. Inside, he pressed a hand to the small of her back and urged her toward the sitting room, where he could hear voices. He was appreciating the curve of her spine when he felt her stiffen a little. “They don’t eat guests for dinner,” he said close to her ear.

She laughed quietly, shakily.

“They’ve found that guests make for a better dessert,” he added just as they walked through the open door.

Conversation stopped. His gaze swept the room. His mother and father were side by side on a settee.

But they were not alone.

Chapter Three

Sara Beth wanted to jab Ted in the ribs. Hard. Obviously he hadn’t warned his parents he was bringing her, because they quickly glanced at a woman about Ted’s age seated in a high-back chair, wearing a Valentine-red, body-hugging dress. She was blond, curvy and regal-looking, the silver spoon in her mouth invisible but obvious in her demeanor.

“Darling,” his mother said as his father stood and came toward Ted and Sara Beth. “You brought a guest. How lovely.”