Beyond Desire. Gwynne Forster

yes, I am. He’s a good man.” Tremors spiraled down her back at the thought of being married to the man she remembered having passed a few minutes with in Lorrianne Graham’s garden.

      “But marry a perfect stranger? I couldn’t.” Agitated, she stood abruptly and began to pace. “Do you realize what you’re suggesting?” His gentle smile failed to soothe her, and he must have realized it, for he added, “If the two of you found that after one year you couldn’t get along and didn’t want to stay married, you could separate. Of course, that means you couldn’t consummate the marriage during that year. In fact, I’d counsel abstinence unless and until the two of you learned to care for each other.” She felt the heat scorch her face; she hadn’t been thinking of a marriage of convenience. She sat down and gazed at her feet. Dr. Graham wanted what was best for her, and she couldn’t reject his proposal out of hand.

      “What about him?” she asked. “Would he do it?” She was almost certain that he wouldn’t. Jacob Graham looked toward Heaven and slapped his hands on his thighs.

      “Probably react same as you, but considering what he’s facing, he may have no choice. Do you want his phone number?” She shook her head.

      “I’ll have to think about this.”

      Amanda started down the walk toward her car and stopped short. A picture of Iris Elms, a female colleague at the junior high school, flashed before her mind’s eye. Iris, gloating triumphantly. Iris victorious at last. The woman had lost her bid for school principal, but there would be no end to her boasting and baiting if she got the job anyway because of Amanda’s mishap. Amanda was convinced that Iris’ antagonism toward her was more than envy and hatred because she’d lost her bid to become school principal. For months, the woman had derided her at every opportunity. She reached her car and leaned against it. Half of the joy of getting that promotion to principal had come from knowing that Iris would have to treat her with respect. Dr. Graham had said that Marcus Hickson had no options. Did she?

      Fighting a feeling of gloom, Amanda got into her car and drove to General Hospital in Caution Point, where she volunteered several afternoons a week. She got in the short cafeteria line, bought a pint of milk and a peanut butter sandwich for her lunch and found a table. Soft music from overhead speakers proclaimed the soothing charm of a wide, sleepy river in the moonlight, and she felt it sweep away the darkness of her mood. Since childhood, she had loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and she rose to get back in line for grape jelly.

      “Leaving? I was going to ask if I could join you; the place is practically deserted.” She looked up to see Marcus Hickson holding a tray of food.

      “Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Flustered, she pointed to the chair. “Please sit. I’m just going for jelly.” She couldn’t imagine his thoughts as he glanced toward the chair, shrugged one shoulder, hesitated and sat down. She took her time getting back to the table, because she wasn’t in a hurry to talk with him and wondered why he had decided to sit with her when there were at least twenty vacant tables.

      “If you’d rather not have company…” he began and let it drift off with a seeming diffidence that she thought didn’t ring true. She remembered that he had a sick daughter and assumed that he had come to the hospital to visit her.

      “Please stay,” she said, compassion winning over wariness. “I’m glad for the company.” When she asked if he was visiting a patient, she couldn’t understand his reluctance to admit it. And the dark cloud that seemed suddenly to mark his features troubled her. She thought of Jacob Graham’s advice earlier that day. If this man was as desperate as he looked…

      “How is your…your little girl?” She could see that her question surprised him.

      “Are you clairvoyant?” She wasn’t, she told him, and waited for his answer.

      He didn’t seem to recognize her, but that didn’t surprise her, because she had been wearing dark glasses when they’d encountered each other in the Grahams’ garden and, at their previous encounter, he hadn’t looked straight at her. She braced herself for his reaction to what she was going to say.

      “I overheard your conversation with your friend in Caution’s Coffee Bean yesterday morning. I hope she’s better.” He told her that the child was no longer in danger, but that there was a chance she would be crippled permanently. She reached toward him to comfort him when he propped his head with his left hand, his elbow resting on the table, and released a long breath, but she withdrew self-consciously. He stirred his coffee idly, seeming to look through her, lost in his thoughts. If he wasn’t desperate, she decided, the thought of his child’s condition pained him so much that he might…She girded her resolve and seized the moment.

      “Since you apparently aren’t married, I have a proposition for you.”

      He frowned in disapproval. “I wouldn’t have thought you the type.”

      “Please. I’m not trying to pick you up, but you have a problem and I have one, and together we can solve both of them.”

      He leaned back, observing her more closely. “Are you by any chance the woman I pulled out of Lorrianne Graham’s flower patch a couple of Sundays ago?”

      “Yes.” She bristled at his perusal but, considering what she was about to suggest, he was entitled to appraise her. “Yes, Dr. Graham has tried twice to introduce us, but somehow, it didn’t come off.”

      His skepticism was apparent even before he replied. “I suppose you’ve got seventy thousand dollars lying around unused.”

      All right, if he didn’t believe her; she knew she didn’t look as if she had a penny. “Yes, I have that much money, and I’m willing to strike a deal with you. I need a husband. At the end of one year, if either of us wanted out of the marriage, we’d call it quits. We could even sign an agreement to that effect. Up to that point, we’d be married in name only. We’d live in the same house, and I’d give you a certified check for seventy thousand.” Both of his eyebrows shot up, his mouth opened, and he stared at her, seemingly speechless.

      “I’m only suggesting a marriage of convenience, unless we decided to change that, though I kind of doubt that you’d want to. That way, your little girl can have her operation and I can get out of this predicament I’m in.” He leaned farther back in the chair and looked at her. She saw nothing sensual in the way that he regarded her, but she blushed, obviously surprising him.

      “Why do you need a husband desperately enough to put out this kind of money?” She folded her hands in her lap and had to control an urge to squirm, because she hadn’t considered that she would have to give this stranger intimate information about herself. His barely checked sigh suggested that he wasn’t a patient person, and that she’d better hurry and get it out.

      “I’m two months pregnant.” That seemed to stagger him, but only for a second, as he blinked eyes that she thought were the most beautiful honey-brown ones she’d ever seen.

      “Then you’re talking to the wrong man. You should be talking to the guy who had the pleasure of putting you in this predicament.” She winced, unable to hide her embarrassment, and he apologized.

      “I don’t know where he is, and if I did I don’t think I’d marry him. I’d rather be disgraced.”

      “Many single women have children outside the sanctity of marriage. Why would you be disgraced?”

      “Those women aren’t principal of Caution Point Junior High School. I am. I just got the appointment week before last, and I don’t think the Board of Education would like having an unmarried pregnant principal as a role model for fourteen-and fifteen-year-old girls.”

      He knew how to whistle: it was long and sharp. “You don’t have to have it, you know. You’re only two months along.”

      Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. No point in getting annoyed, she told herself, as she gathered her purse to leave, then felt rather than saw his hand lightly on her sleeve, detaining her.

      “Why