Tom Blake checked his Rolex again. It had been a gift from his father when he graduated from college, and it still kept perfect time. But Tom shook it, wondering if it could've slowed down. It showed only three minutes from the last time he'd looked.
He was too anxious to see Claire. She'd probably be frightened if she knew that. He was thirty-one, well-established as an attorney, from a good family. But he'd never met a woman who... completed him. Until Claire. He didn't want to waste any time. He was ready to marry her now.
Claire, however, seemed cautious. She'd particularly been thrown when she'd discovered his father was Hugh Blake. Tom chuckled. He'd learned early in life to avoid the people who pursued him to get to his father. And to avoid the people who showed interest in him because of his bank account. Particularly beautiful women.
When he'd met Claire, he hadn't mentioned his family. He'd told her what he did, saying he had a small law firm, and it was. He and a friend opened it four years ago. They were now the number one firm for family law in Austin with more business than they could handle.
Claire, a nurse at Maitland Maternity Clinic who specialized in caring for preemies, accepted him as her equal. They'd chatted, found many things in common, and he'd wanted to haul her off so they could be alone.
Instead, he'd minded his manners and taken the courtship slowly. By the time he mentioned his father, he figured it wouldn't be a problem. He'd almost lost Claire that day. She didn't consider herself an equal to the Blakes of Austin, which was ridiculous. Even worse, his father was marrying Megan Maitland this month. The grand dame of
Austin society and owner of the hospital that employed Claire was too much for Claire Goodman.
That had only been a week ago. He was still cautiously trying to get closer. In fact, he wanted in her bed. Since he intended to marry her anyway, he thought he was being reasonable.
He heard the outer door open and his head whipped up.
"Hello, Miss Goodman. Go right on in. Mr. Blake is waiting," his secretary, Carol, said.
Before Claire came into sight, Tom was out of his chair, around his desk, and racing to meet her. As she came through the door, he wrapped his arms around her and his lips met hers.
The kiss was like ambrosia to his soul. He'd starved for her. He hadn't even been able to call her. She'd insisted she'd be too busy.
With her enthusiastic participation, he considered going straight to the sofa, after closing the office door, but he held back, still not sure. "Man, I missed you," he whispered as he held her even closer.
"I - um, it's warm in here, isn't it?"
He leaned back, frowning. True, it was December, but Austin in December didn't mean freezing temperatures except on rare occasions. So the heat was on its lowest level. Her response was strange.
"Are you okay? Not coming down with anything?"
"No, I'm fine. I stopped by to tell you I can't have dinner with you tonight."
Before she'd left town, he'd made her promise to meet him for dinner tonight. He'd been looking forward to it all day. "Why not?"
She took several steps back. "Um, I've decided we - we shouldn't see each other anymore."
Only strong self-discipline and practice in court kept his legs from buckling. Maintaining a calm voice, he said, "Really? Why is that?"
She sent him an affronted look. "Well, obviously it doesn't matter to you anyway. But I don't think we want the same things."
Okay, so she wouldn't meet his gaze, which told him something wasn't kosher. "I suppose that's up for discussion, but shouldn't you ask me what I want before you condemn my choices?"
She moved closer to the door. "It's pointless to discuss. I have to go."
He'd followed her, slowly so he wouldn't scare her, but he reached out and caught her hand. "You have another appointment?"
"Yes! I have another appointment."
"Who with?"
"That's none of your business!" Her cheeks were flushed.
"Well, I think it is since you're canceling our date." He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he said the word date. She was signaling withdrawal with every word she used.
He pulled her closer. "Who, Claire?"
Her agitation grew. "It doesn't matter! I can't - it would be too awkward."
"Because we're breaking up? Oh, no. I have a friendship policy with all my old girlfriends. Keeps me looking like a nice guy. Besides, I'm starving and I hate to eat alone. Come on, we'll grab a bite to eat and have a genteel discussion. It will be quite civil."
Since she'd met one or two women he'd previously dated, maybe she'd believe that lie. He just knew that if he let her walk away tonight, he'd never convince her to go out with him again.
Claire had known she wouldn't do this well. She'd wanted to be in and out in five minutes. Most of those five minutes had been spent in his arms, being thoroughly kissed. And she'd loved it. The man was an incredible kisser.
When she'd finally remembered she was rejecting him, he'd already stopped kissing her. Then, as if she hadn't dropped a bombshell, he'd accepted her decision with no protests. Just a request to go eat because he was starving.
And she'd thought he was sensitive!
He stepped back to his chair and grabbed the suit jacket on its back. "We'll just run to Mario's, nothing romantic, and grab some pasta."
Oh, sure! Nothing romantic! He knew she loved going to Mario's. He'd taken her there on their first date. The owner practically rolled out the red carpet for him and gave them a table that had since become their special one. The lights were always low, their table was a booth and Tom always sat next her, whispering sweet things in her ears. "I don't want to go to Mario's!" she lied. "Mario would be upset to hear that. But the problem is, I don't know where we could get a table quickly in any other restaurant." Claire scratched her forehead. Things weren't turning out the way she intended. "And I am starving," he added, looking as pitiful as a handsome man could, his eyes wide and innocent.
"Oh, okay! But no - no acting like we're lovers for Mario's benefit," she warned him.
"That'll be easy, since we're not lovers. And if we were, it wouldn't be Mario who'd be smiling."
She ignored him and hurried out of his office.
Tom kept his eye on Claire as he drove them to Mario's. She'd wanted to drive herself, but he'd reminded her of the limited parking. She might be hurting Mario's business. Dirty pool, he knew, but he was desperate.
What was going on? Was it his family? They'd always been an asset before. His father was one of the leading corporate attorneys in Austin, representing Maitland Maternity as well as other large companies.
His two sisters had their idiosyncrasies, but they'd welcomed Claire with easy friendliness. "Did you see Diane as you came in today?"
"Yes. I know you can't tell me about the problem, but is everything all right for Whitney? She has so much to bear already."
He found Claire's sympathy admirable. He'd known women who sneered at teenagers who got pregnant. Not Claire. "I think everything will be okay."
"Good."
"Will you take care of her babies?"
"If they're underweight. I only deal with the special babies. If they're healthy and both over five pounds, they'll go in the regular nursery."
"Did you go straight to the hospital after you got off the plane?"
"Yes, of course. And we got three new babies while I was gone. Two of them are already on the verge of being transferred out, but the other one - Well, it will be a few days."
He noticed the tension had lessened while they discussed her beloved job. Good. He'd have a better chance of finding out what was going on, if she was relaxed.
When Mario showed them to their special table, beaming, Tom thanked him and then slid around the half circle to Claire's side.
She glared at him and shifted away from him. "You promised."
"How can we talk if we're separated? You know how noisy it gets in here."
She shifted farther away.
&nb
sp; The waiter came to the table and asked, "The usual?"
Tom nodded and the man left before Claire could speak.
"Wait!" she called, but the waiter was too far away to hear her.
"You want something different?"
"Yes, but it's too late."
"No, it's not. I'll go get him if you want to order something else." She'd been ordering the same thing from the first day, but a lady had the right to change.
"Never mind," she said, scooting along the seat again. "It doesn't matter."
They sat there in silence, and all the tension he'd erased in the car was back full force.
"Have you met someone else?" he abruptly asked, unable to hold back.
"No! I mean, well, um, I met a lot of people at the conference." She wasn't looking at him again.
"You know that's not what I mean."
"I can change my mind without having met someone new, can't I?" she said, sticking out her stubborn chin.
"Of course. I just want to know why. You know how I feel about you, and I thought you felt the same about me."
Her hands were shaking, and he decided to ease the tension again. Snapping his fingers, he said, "Oh, damn! I'd forgotten!"
He'd snagged her attention. "What?"
"I was counting on you to help me out. Now what will I do?" He was frantically thinking up a project for her.
"I'm sure you'll manage on your own."
"I would if it wasn't a female thing. You know I'm not good at those things." He stretched his arm out on the back of the seat and leaned toward her.
"What female thing? I've never seen you - "
"Sure you have. When I gave a present to my sister and it was still in the sack. You said I should've had it wrapped. I hadn't even thought about it."
"They have gift wrapping in the stores," she pointed out. "Problem solved."
"I know that, but the problem was I didn't think of it. Anyway, I want to do something special for Dad and Megan. I was going to ask you to help me. I want to host a party for them Friday evening."
"This is ridiculous. You can get someone to help."
"I decided too late. It's the holiday season and no one can handle it. I've got our housekeeper's help, but I need some assistance making decisions. I don't have much time."
"No, you don't, but it's not my problem."
"In a way, it's your fault, though. I decided to do this just after you left town. I waited until you got home to work on it because I needed your advice."
"You are not going to blame me for - " He interrupted her. "Of course not. But all I'm asking for is a little advice. It will be over Friday night. Can't you put off disappearing out of my life until then? Is that asking so much?"
"Tom, I don't live on your social scale. Your sisters would be better at - "
"Diane is responsible for Whitney, and you know that's time-consuming, plus she's a bridesmaid. Suzanne is planning her wedding and is a bridesmaid and will be a new mother three times over. What more do you want from them?"
He held his breath, waiting to see if he'd convinced her to hang around a little longer.
CHAPTER TWO
The problem, Claire realized, was she didn't want to go away. She didn't want to lose Tom. And his reasons did sound sort of legitimate. She knew the Christmas season was crazy for the social set in Austin. When you add to that the biggest wedding of the year, well, things could get difficult.
"I'll help you as a friend," she said hurriedly, before he changed his mind.
"Bless you," he said with a smile. Then he leaned over and kissed her. He kept it brief, leaving her hungry, so she couldn't complain.
"I don't suppose you could take off a couple of days, say, Thursday and Friday, for last minute details?"
"I - I could." She had some vacation days available.
"Perfect! Now, tell me why you're breaking up with me."
The sudden change of subject left her head spinning.
"Uh, it's like I said. We don't want the same things."
"I don't agree, because what I want, more than anything is you."
"Me?" she quaked, surprised by his response.
"You," he assured her and immediately kissed her as he had when she'd entered the office.
She was breathing heavily when he pulled back. Damn! She couldn't turn him away. Not when she was as hungry for him as he was for her. "Don't touch me! You promised."
"Sorry, I forgot."
The waiter arrived with their order.
For the next several minutes, they both concentrated on their meal as if they really were hungry. Then he tried again.
"Is it bad breath? B.O.? Did you see me with another woman?"
Her gaze leveled on him. "Have you been with another woman?"
He held up a hand. "Not since I laid eyes on you, sweetheart. I think you've ruined me for all other women."
"Don't be ridiculous! I'm just - just normal."
Tom threw back his head and laughed out loud. When he stopped laughing, he took her chin between his fingers and said, "Not to me, you're not. I think our being together is fate, Claire. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
She was shaking badly all over. "No, no, no. That can't be. Please, Tom, just - just let me go."
Now he was getting worried. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him and with his other hand, he clasped hers. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it."
She buried her face in his jacket and shook her head no. "You c-can't."
"Well, you could at least explain why, so I'll be prepared next time."
"Your sister told me."
Friday night, he'd taken Claire to his sister's house for drinks, showing Claire they were all regular folks. He figured Suzanne, with her soon-to-be new mother duties, would be just a little bit harried.
He hadn't counted on any family secrets revealed. And he was afraid he knew which one had been put on parade. "Did she congratulate you for being so broadminded as to pair yourself off with a sterile man?''
"S-something like that."
His sister had no business preempting his right to inform her of his problem. But he knew Suzanne hadn't meant to break his confidence. She wouldn't do that.
"I would've told you before we went much further, honey, I promise. But there are so many possibilities today, I thought if we cared for each other, something could be worked out."
When he was eighteen, shortly after his mother passed away, Tom got the mumps. It wasn't until later on that he discovered the effects of the disease - sterility. Tom battled depression for several years, but was fortunate enough to have the love and support of his father and his mother's sister, Katie. They had both taught him to count his blessings and look at alternatives since he could now not bear children of his own. At his father's suggestion, Tom took a great interest in helping children - he organized sports like basketball and baseball within the city and even became a Big Brother when he was in college. Through these activities and relationships, Tom came to accept that not being able to have children of his own did not at all mean he couldn't ever enjoy their company. Tom knew it was a subject to be broached carefully and could shock the woman who first heard it.
"Wouldn't one of those other alternatives do?"
"You see," she began, wiping her face with the back of her hand, "I've always had this dream of having the perfect husband, the perfect child. I know it's silly but –" She broke off and swallowed. "When she told me that Friday night, I panicked. It was all I could think of all weekend. I decided it would be easier to give you up. Only - it's hard." She looked away. "Besides, we already had the social thing."
She hoped that last would distract him, knowing her words didn't make sense. And she couldn't explain it either, this illogical primal instinct that urged her to have the perfect home with a child from her own body. It was crazy, and she hated that she felt this way. But logic or not, she needed to have a baby of her own.
"W
hat social thing?" he asked quickly.
"You know I'm not a jet-setter," she explained impatiently.
"Neither am I." He watched her carefully before he said, "Look, you've promised me a week. Let's not make any decisions until next weekend. Maybe you'll be able to rethink your decision."
"I don't think - "
"I think it would be wise of you. And there are some advantages. You know I can't get you pregnant, so you don't have to worry about me getting anyone else pregnant."
She raised her head to give him an outraged look. But at least she wasn't still crying. He'd purposely tried to shock her. He added hurriedly, "I wouldn't, I promise. In fact, let me take you home tonight and show you how faithful I can be."
Her smile was sweet, but she said no. Then, sitting up, she asked to go. The evening had exhausted her.
He could understand why. He'd thought he could handle his disability but he couldn't if it meant losing Claire.
Tom had spent most of the night trying to determine the problem. Other than the obvious one - him. The only guess he'd had was that Claire didn't think she could love someone else's baby.
So here he was this morning, standing in the shadows, watching Claire at work - and he knew he'd been wrong. Every little scrap of humanity in that glassed-in room fighting for life had a staunch supporter in Claire. The love poured out of her as she touched them through the rubber gloves attached to the incubators. She stroked them, sang to them, talked to them, her whole being concentrating on giving them the strength to make it.
Now, she'd taken one of the largest babies, obviously nearly ready to be transferred to the regular nursery, into her arms and was feeding him his bottle. Tom couldn't hear through the glass walls, but the rocker moved back and forth and so did her lips, either singing or talking to the baby.
Tom couldn't even picture Claire turning her back on a baby because it wasn't hers. There was just too much love in her. So, if that wasn't the problem, what was? There had to be something in her past that was the key to what was happening.
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