Sandra Steffen – Marriage by Contract (страница 8)

The hospital was abuzz with the news of the great Dr. Petrocelli’s imminent fall from bachelorhood. He and Beth had taken their blood tests, applied for the marriage license and spoken with Elena every day. Beth wasn’t sure how the other woman had managed it, but the wedding was set for this coming Saturday at two o’clock.

Although everything else they’d done had been necessary, as far as Beth was concerned, the most important order of business was the appointment they’d kept with the social worker yesterday. Florence Donahue, the caseworker who’d been assigned to Christopher, was fifty-five years old, and since she’d turned forty she had accumulated an extra pound with every passing year. She wore the pinched expression of a woman who was squeezed between the desire to help and the bureaucracy of an imperfect system. If Tony had noticed, he hadn’t let on, charming her right down to the roots of her overpermed brown hair. Beth still smiled every time she thought about the phone call she’d received a few hours ago. According to Mrs. Donahue, the proper forms had been filled out, and barring any new developments, the system was going to place Christopher in Beth and Tony’s care upon his release from the hospital.

The Petrocellis, too eager to wait until then to meet the newest addition to their family, were due to arrive at the hospital, where they could at least see him through the nursery window. Tony was pacing back and forth, as nervous as any expectant father she’d ever seen. He would be wonderful to Christopher, she knew he would, and Christopher would have the added stability and love of a huge extended family.

Telling herself that the misgivings that had been scraping the edges of her mind these past three days were just nerves, she leaned over the baby’s incubator. “Hello, sweet pea. Remember when I told you how much I want to be your mommy? Lo and behold, it looks as if I’m going to get my wish. Do you remember that man over there? He helped bring you into this world, and he’s going to be your daddy.”

Tony stopped pacing and slowly turned around. He took his time looking at Beth, his eyes traveling over every inch of her. She was leaning over the plastic crib, seemingly oblivious to everything except the baby. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, one side fastened high on her head with a black clasp. She was wearing a thin, airy-looking skirt and matching top. Although the color was an understated slate blue, the material clung to her hips and legs in the most enticing way. She probably had no idea how sensuous her voice sounded. No wonder the baby was gazing up at her, mesmerized. She was having a similar effect on him. Tony didn’t know what was happening to him. He only knew he liked it.

“Beth?” he said, catching a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Hmm?”

“They’re here.”

She came to with a start, her eyes going wide as she looked beyond him at the men and women and children hurrying toward them en masse. With a tilt of her head and the lift of one shoulder, she said, “Yes, they certainly are. Would you like to carry Christopher to the window so they can see him?”

“No,” he said, ignoring the taps on the pane behind him. “I think you should do the honors. You’re a natural with him.”

The smile she gave him nearly buckled his knees, rendering him immobile. That night, more than two-and-a-half months ago, like now, he’d felt it—warmed by her smile, flushed with heat, excited by something as simple as a look.

Beth wrapped Christopher in a white blanket and scooped him into her arms, Tony’s words playing through her mind. You’re a natural with him. She swallowed the lump in her throat, certain she’d never received a higher compliment.

She stood next to Tony in front of the window and held up the baby for all to see. Christopher, with his dark tuft of hair and serious gray eyes, stared unblinking at all the people who were making complete fools of themselves on the other side of the window.

Children were held up for a better look, chubby little fingers pointing, questions asked and answered with ease. Tony’s mother and sisters all wiped tears from their eyes, his father and brothers-in-law grinning and nodding for all they were worth. When everyone had looked their fill, Beth returned Christopher to his bed, and together, she and Tony joined the rest of the family in the hall.

“I can’t believe how much hair he has.”

“He’s an angel.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“He’s a boy. He can’t be beautiful.”

“He can so. And he is.”

“And smart. He knows us already.”

“Oh, but he’s so small. I swear our Dominic was twice that size at birth!”

“Yes, but Dominic was born half grown.”

Tony almost smiled. Although he’d delivered hundreds of babies, they were usually red-faced and squalling and mad as blazes to find themselves beneath the glare of lights in the big, cold world. Staring at Christopher, who was silently studying a stuffed bear Beth had placed in his bed in the first days of his life, a sense of pride came out of nowhere, and he had to admit that the baby was an exceptionally handsome child.

“I can see the pride in the set of your shoulders, son.”

Tony’s eyes took their time meeting his father’s. When their gazes locked, they both nodded. Tony was the first to smile.

Vincent Petrocelli was a couple of inches shorter than Tony and had thinning gray hair and a face and hands that bore the lines and calluses of a man who worked hard for a living. He didn’t speak loud or often, but when he talked, people sat up and listened. They’d been the only two men adrift in a turbulent sea of talkative, demonstrative women. Despite it or because of it, their relationship was based on companionable silences. Tony could count on one hand the times he and his father had had heart-to-heart talks. He’d always known what his family had given up to help him through medical school, just as he’d always known what was expected of him in return.

He wasn’t sure why he chose that instant to turn his head slightly, but once his gaze settled on Beth, he couldn’t look away. At five foot eight, she was at least three inches taller than the women in his family. From here, her hair looked more red-gold than auburn, her skin pale, her lips tinted a soft pink. She was talking to two of his sisters—listening was more like it. She nodded politely at something Carmelina said, then casually glanced his way. For a moment, she seemed to stare, unseeing, past them all. Slowly, her eyes focused on him, and she smiled. Desire roused inside Tony all over again.

From a dozen feet away, Beth saw the invitation in the depths of Tony’s eyes. She couldn’t remember any man ever looking at her in exactly that way, and she could hardly believe what such a look could do to a woman.

See? she told herself. Everything is going to be fine. There’s no need for self-doubts.

“I think it’s a good thing the wedding is only four days away, don’t you, Maria?” Carmelina asked.

“From the look of that brother of ours, I don’t think he’d be able to wait much longer,” Maria agreed.

Beth glanced at Tony’s sisters, one older than him, the other younger. Heaven help her, but she was at a complete and utter loss for something to say.

Maria laughed, and Carmelina said, “Don’t look so stricken. I always knew he had it in him. Our mother and father have been waiting a long time for this. Tell me, Beth, how long do you and Tony plan to wait to have another child?”

Unease crawled down Beth’s spine, a disturbing thought close on its heels. Suddenly, she was face-to-face with the doubts she’d been having these past three days.

She didn’t remember how she responded to Carmelina’s question, but whatever she said must have satisfied both of Tony’s sisters. The entire family left soon after. If they noticed that Beth’s smile looked strangely out of place on her own face, they didn’t comment.

* * *

Tony stood to one side, arms crossed, waiting for Beth to unlock her door. She knew she’d been more quiet than usual since leaving the hospital, but she just hadn’t felt up to making small talk.

The door opened on silent hinges, the carpet muting her footsteps as she led the way into her quiet apartment. Other than the rasp of Tony’s deeply drawn breath, the only sound she heard was the door closing behind her. Choosing her words very carefully, she turned to face him. “Your family seems very excited about the idea of future Petrocellis.”

He studied her thoughtfully for so long she wondered if he was going to answer. “They’re very old-fashioned in that respect. Does that bother you?”

Bother? It terrified her, but not for the obvious reasons. Hoping against hope that she was reading more into this than was necessary, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. What she really needed was something to do with her hands. Clasping them in front of her, she said, “Everything has happened so fast, we really haven’t had much of a chance to get to know each other. Do you have time to talk? Because if you do, I could brew a pot of tea.”

Tony took a step toward her. Brewing tea was not what he would have preferred to spend the next several minutes doing. Or even the next several hours. “I have all the time in the world, Beth. For talking. Or whatever.”