Dad By Choice. Marie Ferrarella

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      From Megan Maitland’s Diary

      Dear Diary,

      Ellie just walked in on me a few minutes ago and laughed because a woman my age would still be writing in a diary like a teenager. But I must admit there are times when I do feel like a teenager, with things around me whirling out of control. So much to do, so much to keep track of. Especially now that William is gone. Three years and I still miss him.

      Despite the ups and downs, the demands on my time, it’s been such a wonderful life so far. William was so good to me, helping me turn this dream of mine into a reality. It’s hard to believe that Maitland Maternity is almost twenty-five years old now, but I’m just about to hold a press conference to announce the gala anniversary party. Pretty good for a poor girl who was once lost and pregnant herself. R.J. just knocked on my door, so I’d better end here. It’s “show time”!

      Megan

      Dear Reader,

      There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

      As our series begins, the family is stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

      Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!

      Marsha Zinberg

      Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

      Dad by Choice

      Marie Ferrarella

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Prolific romance author Marie Ferrarella claims, “I was born writing, which must have made the delivery especially difficult for my mother!” Born in West Germany of Polish parents, she came to America when she was four years of age. For an entire year, Marie and her family explored the eastern half of the country before finally settling in New York. It was there, at the age of fourteen, that she met the man she would marry, her first true love, Charles Ferrarella.

      During her days at Queens College, acting started to lose its glamour as Marie spent more and more time writing. After receiving her English degree, specializing in Shakespearean comedy, Marie and her family moved to Southern California, where she still resides today. After an interminable seven weeks apart, Charles decided he couldn’t live without her, and came out to California to marry his childhood sweetheart. Marie, who has written over one hundred novels, has one goal: to entertain, to make people laugh and feel good. “That, and a really good romantic evening with my husband.” She keeps her fingers crossed that her many fans enjoy reading her books as much as she enjoys writing them.

      To Leslie Wainger, my patron saint of all good things.

      Contents

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      PROLOGUE

      THE SOUND OF HER OWN heavy breathing filled her head. Her heart was racing so hard, it felt as if it were on the verge of vibrating out of her chest.

      At the end of the alley she stopped running.

      As her breathing steadied, she felt a satisfied smile begin to form on her lips, twisting them upward, until anyone seeing her would have ventured to say she looked positively jubilant.

      And downright wicked.

      But there was no one to see her. Luck had been with her when her patience and her temper had both snapped.

      Luck, so much a part of the world she had originally come from, had not been more than a fleeting visitor. Nice to know it was on her side for a change.

      A sense of triumph began to take hold. There’d been no one to witness what she had done to claim what was so rightfully hers.

      Not hers by any standards passed down through the courts with its legal mumbo jumbo, but that didn’t really matter. It was hers nonetheless. She deserved it. Had earned it. Earned it through all those months of careful planning and plotting. Of empty smiles and emptier promises, of befriending people she secretly hated. And now, finally, it was almost hers.

      So close, so close.

      Sucking in a huge gulp of air to banish the last of the tiny white pinpricks of light dancing before her eyes, Janelle Maitland Jones hurried back to where the key to her future had been left unprotected on the steps of Maitland Maternity Clinic.

      Her smile deepened, but never reached her eyes. Maitland Maternity. How fitting. How damn, ironically fitting.

      She almost laughed out loud.

      Suddenly, the sound of voices began to mix with the faint buzzing in her head. Raised voices, laced with excitement, all talking at once. Janelle glanced over her shoulder down the alley.

      Had someone seen her drag that insufferable bitch’s body back there, after all? Had they seen what she’d done?

      But the voices weren’t coming from the alley. They were coming from the direction of the clinic.

      Janelle froze in her tracks, horror spilling over her like black tar, smothering her smugness.

      Reporters and camera crews had materialized from nowhere, swarming around the back entrance to the clinic. Blocking