Dad By Choice. Marie Ferrarella

returned to call another patient in, this time to room 2. Before Kyle could ask her how much longer this was going to take, she turned toward him and smiled.

      “Mr. McDermott?”

      He was on his feet instantly.

      Lisa opened the door wider and stepped back. “Dr. Maitland says you can come in now.”

      “How very gracious of her.”

      Passing the nurse, Kyle struggled to curb his temper. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault that Marcie had gotten herself pregnant. And it wasn’t her fault that Marcie adamantly refused to marry the boy who had gotten her into this condition, despite all Kyle’s assurances that he would set them up and help pay for her education and Billy Madison’s, as well. But it was the doctor’s fault that he was now drastically behind schedule. He didn’t tolerate lateness well, not in himself and not in others. That wasn’t how things got done.

      His father had always been late. Late to work, late to pay the bills. Late with everything. That’s why he had never amounted to anything, and why, when he died, there had been a mountain of debts for Kyle to pay off.

      He walked into room 1 to see his sister lying on the examining table. A wave of discomfort washed over him. His eyes darted toward the doctor. “Is this going to take long?”

      Busy preparing the monitor, Abby glanced in his direction. “Not too.”

      Maybe it was the tension of thinking that one of her brothers might be responsible for the baby she’d just left with Ford. Or maybe it was knowing that, at the very least, because of this baby her family had suddenly become the target of every journalist, photographer and news media wanna-be.

      Or maybe she just didn’t like Kyle McDermott’s distant attitude. Marcie had confided a few things to Abby in moments of dire unhappiness. Things that hadn’t put the too-too-busy Mr. McDermott in the most flattering light, despite his chiseled, killer looks, his high cheekbones and that dark, flowing mane of hair that seemed just a bit out of place when paired with the expensive suit he had on.

      Whatever it was, Abby found herself hanging on to the tattered ends of a far shorter temper than she normally possessed.

      The monitor was ready. She walked over to Marcie, but she was still looking at Kyle.

      “Most people view this as a miracle, Mr. McDermott, one not to be hurried through like a car wash. This is a very precious time. You get to make the baby go where you want it to and do what you want it to—except for kicking,” she added with a smile as she looked at Marcie. “They really don’t listen when it comes to that, no matter what diplomacy you use.”

      Marcie’s swollen abdomen was partially exposed, and Kyle watched as the doctor with the sharp tongue rubbed some sort of jelly on it. He loved Marcie more than anything in this world and had thought, until this thing with Billy had come up, that he was pretty much privy to all her feelings. But right now he felt intrusive, as if he were somehow invading her privacy. It was the same at the birthing classes. He was out of his depth, had no business being there.

      Kyle turned away, not sure where he should look.

      As she watched him, Abby’s lips twitched in amusement. He certainly didn’t look like the delicate type.

      Can’t tell a book by its dust jacket.

      Kyle shoved his hands into his pockets and addressed the wall beyond Abby’s head. “I don’t mean to sound as if this isn’t important to me, it’s just that—”

      “You’re running behind schedule, yes, I know.” This man was flirting with an ulcer, if he didn’t already have one. But that was his problem, not hers. “You made that very clear. I’m afraid most of us are running behind schedule practically from the day we’re born. I suspect your niece or nephew might be a few days behind schedule, too.” Amplifier in hand, she looked at him. “Ready?”

      Kyle really didn’t know if he was or not. He knew it was absurd, but he felt nervous about this. That was why he’d turned down Marcie’s previous requests to come with her to the doctor’s office. But after the argument they’d had last night, he knew this was the only way she would even speak to him.

      Masking his emotions, he nodded. “Yes.”

      Abby placed the amplifier against Marcie’s abdomen and began to slowly move it around.

      Straining to catch the faintest sound, he heard nothing. Was there something wrong with the baby? Concern edged out discomfort.

      “I don’t hear anything,” Kyle said.

      Brows drawn together in concentration, Abby held up her hand for silence. “Wait.” And then a smile like late-summer sunshine curved her mouth. Triumph filled her eyes as she looked up at him. “There. Now listen.”

      He drew his eyes away from her, because she was none of his concern. He was only here because of Marcie. A strange bittersweet emotion filtered through him as he listened. He’d watched Marcie’s small body become progressively wider and thicker with child, and yet, somehow, it had all seemed like a fantasy.

      Until now. Now there was a heartbeat, and he heard it.

      Perhaps that was why he’d resisted this meeting so much, even though he had reluctantly begun accompanying Marcie to her birthing classes, going there in place of Billy, whom he would have thought the more likely choice. Because hearing made it real.

      He realized that Marcie’s doctor was waiting for him to acknowledge what he heard. He lifted a shoulder and let it drop, not really sure what she wanted from him. “Sounds like hoofbeats.”

      Abby paused, rolling his words over in her mind. She listened closely herself. She’d been doing this for a while now, but had never thought of the sound she was monitoring quite that way. The description made her smile.

      “I suppose, in a way, it does.” Satisfied that everything was fine, Abby put the probe back into place and moved the monitor aside. “And the beats are getting closer.” Positioning herself beside Marcie, she gently helped the girl into a sitting position. “Not much longer now, Marcie-girl.”

      The familiar nickname gave testimony to the bond between Marcie and her doctor, and cinched the silent debate Kyle had been having with himself ever since the drive over here. It was very clear to him that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Marcie in his campaign. He wanted to convince her to give her child a last name and marry the boy she professed to love so much. Billy was more than willing to marry her, but that didn’t seem to be enough to sway Marcie. She was perversely adamant in her refusal, and Kyle could only conclude that she was doing it strictly to annoy him.

      But he only wanted what was good for Marcie and he wasn’t about to allow her to cut off her nose to spite her face—and him. Not for the first time, he wondered what had become of the little girl who had been his faithful shadow, who had tried so hard to please him. Who’d been so afraid that he would die, too, and leave her alone in the world.

      Now she didn’t seem to care what he thought.

      Maybe this doctor of hers could accomplish what he couldn’t. He didn’t care how it came about, as long as it did.

      “Okay, Marcie, you’re doing great,” Abby said, making a final notation in her chart. “All systems are go.” She flipped the chart closed. “Continue taking your vitamins, get plenty of rest, and I’ll see you next week.”

      But as Abby began to leave, Kyle took her arm, stopping her. She raised her eyes to his quizzically. Was there something she hadn’t covered to his satisfaction?

      He dropped his hand when she looked at him. Without meaning to, Kyle lowered his voice. It seemed to rumble as it met her ear. “Doctor, could I see you alone for a minute?”

      To his surprise and no small annoyance, since she had been the one to keep them waiting, the doctor glanced at her watch. There was just the slightest hint of an apology in her voice.

      “I’m afraid it’ll