Married For The Boss's Baby

Ever After

COLLECTION

December 2020

Dreaming Ever After

January 2021

Married for the Boss’s Baby

February 2021

Passionately Ever After

March 2021

Enchanted Ever After

April 2021

Royally Ever After

May 2021

Happily Ever After

About the Author

SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began when she made a bad grade in math. Not allowed to watch TV until the grade had improved, she filled her time with books. Turning her love of reading into a love for writing romance, she pens hot medicals. She loves castles, travelling, afternoon tea, reads voraciously and hearing from her readers. Join her newsletter at www.SusanCarlisle.com

Married for the Boss’s Baby

Susan Carlisle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-03738-9

MARRIED FOR THE BOSS’S BABY

© 2016 Susan Carlisle

Published in Great Britain 2021

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

About the Publisher

To Anna,

I’m glad to call you daughter-in-law.

CHAPTER ONE

DR. GRANT SMYTHE glanced at the bassinet. His father and stepmother had been in the grave only a day and the nanny had quit. Just walked out. What else could go wrong?

No doubt his father was rolling over in his grave at the idea that Grant had been awarded custody of his baby half-sister. He was pretty sure his father had had no intention of ever telling the child she had siblings.

Grant paced the oak planks in the foyer of what had been his father’s home.

Where is the new nanny? When is that woman going to show up?

He checked the time on his phone. She should be here by now. They were waiting on him in the OR. The liver he was to transplant wouldn’t be viable much longer.

The baby whimpered. Grant shoved his hair off his forehead. This was just one more of his father’s ways of making him feel inadequate. One final sick joke.

The whine grew to a cry. Where was...? What is her name...? Uh, Sydney, Sara, Sharon or something.

The baby released a deep-chested, high-pitched scream. What was wrong? He hadn’t had anything to do with babies since med school. Even then it had only been for a short time.

Baby. He was so bitter he couldn’t even call the small bundle by her name. Grant looked into the cherubic face twisting up to make another cry. His sister. Lily. He shouldn’t be taking out lifelong issues with his father on an innocent babe. “Lily,” he whispered.

Her mouth closed and she studied Grant.

Amazement filled him. The child was beautiful. She resembled Evelyn so much. Her mother. The same woman he’d once planned to marry. Lily could have been his daughter. At least that was until he had introduced Evelyn to his father. Those were dark thoughts Grant didn’t have time for.

The ring of his phone drew his attention. Surely that was the nanny saying she was on her way. Answering, he recognized the voice of Leon, his best friend and lawyer. When Grant had taken responsibility for Lily he’d contacted Leon to watch after his and the child’s interests.

Without any preamble Leon said, “Well, it looks like Evelyn’s family means business.”

“I had no idea she even had an aunt and uncle. She never said anything about them.”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re here now. Maybe you should consider letting them have Lily. What do you know about raising a child? Adoption could be the right way to go. We can set it up so that you oversee her trust fund.”

Grant still couldn’t get over the fact that a couple had showed up at the funeral saying they were his stepmother’s family members. The man had then informed Grant that they were planning to file for custody of Lily.

His sister. His family. She should be with him.

Why he felt so strongly about that he had no idea. Did he still think he needed to prove something to his father? That shouldn’t matter. He’d spent most of his adult life fighting with the man. He was gone now. A dejected feeling settled over Grant. No matter how bad it had been between them he still hated knowing his father was gone forever.

Grant look down at Lily. “What do we know about these people?”

“Based on a preliminary report of the Armsteads, they look like the perfect couple to take in a child.”

“And I’m not,” Grant snapped. “What about the lifestyle I can offer her?”

“To be quite frank, it won’t matter.”

“So what would make a difference?”

Leon sighed. “The court likes to see children going to a couple. If you were married it would help your case one hundred percent. You’re the closest relative. You have the means and ability to care for her. I don’t see a judge, even the most conservative one, going against you.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I need to find a wife,” Grant said flatly.

“In a word, yes.”

Sara Marcum still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to take this job. She pulled her beat-up car into the curved brick drive of a two-story mansion in Highland Park, the poshest section of Chicago, Illinois. The yard was so manicured each blade of grass stood at attention.

Kim, a nursing friend who worked at the hospital, had called her that evening and told her about Dr. Smythe’s desperate need for a nanny. Knowing Sara was available, she’d given her the doctor’s address and asked her to go there immediately. The problem was that Sara wasn’t nanny material. She wanted nothing to do with caring for a child.

“You have a big heart, Sara, you’re just the person to help this guy out,” Kim had insisted. “It’s just temporary and the money’s good.”

Currently between hospice nursing positions, Sara wasn’t sure she could return to doing that type of work. She had loved and hated her job. After Mr. Elliott, one of her favorite patients, had died painfully over many weeks it had become too much. When he’d passed away Sara had decided it was time for a change. She needed to get away to recover but couldn’t afford not to have any income. The need for her father and herself to eat and have a roof over their heads took priority. Which was the only reason she’d agreed to consider this nanny position.

Her cellphone rang as she drove up the drive. “Hey, Dad.”

“We’ve have a problem, little girl.” Sara had long since outgrown the nickname but her father continued to call her that.

“What’s wrong now?” She was so tired of fighting off creditors.

“Mr. Cutter just came by. He’s evicting us.”

She gripped the steering-wheel. “He’s what? He can’t do that!”

“Well, he is. He has someone who wants the apartment.”

“I told him I would get the rent caught up as soon as I could. I paid an entire month just a few weeks ago.” She wanted to scream. Would it ever end?

Growing up, she’d known her father had worked hard to make ends meet. After his accident, finances had become ever tighter. He now received disability but nothing else. The company had managed to see that he was blamed for the explosion and had awarded him no compensation. She’d wanted a nursing degree so badly she’d gone into debt to get it. It had taken her years but she had paid her loans off. Yet here she was, trying to survive again.

“I reminded him but he doesn’t care. He wants us out by the end of the week.”

Sara gave an exasperated sigh. She was tired of moving. Now she had to do it again. But to where?

They had been doing well. She’d had some savings and had even been starting to look into buying a house when her father had answered a telemarketing call. Lonely and at home by himself too much, he had been the perfect victim for a fast-talking salesmen to take advantage of. Before he’d been done, all of her father’s money had been invested in land in Florida that didn’t exist and most of hers was going to keeping her father’s doctor’s bills in check. Even with this job she would barely keep their financial heads above water.

“I’ve got to go, Dad. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” But what? She rang off.

She pulled to a stop in front of the house. Before she had completely climbed out of the car a tall man holding a baby tightly to his chest was hovering over her. In his arms the child was but a tiny bundle. “What took you so long?”

Going motionless, Sara held his gaze for a moment. The baby cried out.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said over the infant’s wailing. “They’re waiting on me in the OR. Can you please just come in?”

He rushed inside the house, leaving the door wide open. The baby’s bellows filled the air.

Unable to bear the little one’s distress, Sara slammed her car door and hastily followed them. She stopped in the hallway.

The man thrust the babe into her hands. “Will you please take her? I have to go.”

Sara grasped the baby with a growing knot in her throat. She’d told Kim she couldn’t do this. But she had insisted. Why did every child have to bring back the fear of getting too close? That horrible ache that never seemed to ease. Sara looked into the infant’s face. That was a mistake. “Go?”

“I’ll be back later,” Dr. Smythe announced. “Everything you should need...” he pointed toward the back of the house and up the large staircase “...is in the kitchen or upstairs in the nursery.”

“Dr. Smythe—”

“No time.” He picked up his keys from the table in the foyer and headed for the open door.

Sara hurried after him and called, “You can’t just leave.”

“Can’t talk right now.”

“I don’t care if I’m being evicted or not, you’re not paying me enough for you to just dump this child in my arms and leave! Come back here.”

“We’ll go over things later.” He was gone. The large door closed with a thump behind him.

Sara stood there in disbelief, looking down at the unhappy child in her arms. He’d handed the baby over with no thought. Nothing like her reaction when, as a surrogate mother, she’d given up a baby. If she’d have been able to, she would have hung on for dear life. But that hadn’t been the agreement. She still carried the pain. For her there was nothing cavalier about relinquishing a baby.

What had she gotten herself into? She’d known this wasn’t a good idea. But she was here now. Sighing, she had no choice but to see to the baby for the time being. Leaving the baby by itself wasn’t an option. Sara would never, ever do that. When the presumptuous doctor returned she would tell him that this arrangement wasn’t going to work. She would still need to figure out something for her and her father. Maybe she could make Mr. Cutter see reason. Working for Dr. Smythe wasn’t the answer.

Walking across the black-and-white-tiled floor, she entered the living area. It was the most un-child-friendly place she’d ever seen. With overstuffed white sofas and chairs sitting on plush white carpet, she could only hope there was never any red juice in this child’s life.

Heavens, she didn’t even know if the baby was a boy or a girl, much less its name. The infant let out another scream.

It must be time for a diaper change and a bottle. Then she would put the tyke down for the night. There must be a nursery somewhere but for now the kitchen would have to do. At least she could find some food for the child. If she focused on the practical, maybe she wouldn’t need to worry about the emotional part of working with a baby.

Sara gathered what looked like a diaper bag and headed down the wide main hall in search of the kitchen. It turned out to be a wide, spacious room with large windows overlooking a swimming pool. A small house sat beyond. The garden surrounding the area was green and immaculate, like the front lawn. If she had ever imagined a perfect kitchen, this would have been it. She’d heard of the Smythes and their status in the community but to live in this opulence was far beyond what she was used to. The baby whined. Sara jiggled it.

Dropping the diaper bag on a padded bar stool, she walked to the corner area of the room near the table. There she found an infant seat that could be set on the table. She strapped the baby in, leaving the bouncer on the floor while she hunted for formula. Not seeing any on the counter, she checked in the refrigerator. Inside were already prepared bottles. Setting one on the bar, she lifted the baby seat up and, after heating the bottle to the right temperature, started feeding the child.

The baby’s angry face turned angelic in its eagerness to eat. At least someone was happy. Something that simple tugged at Sara’s heart. What would it have been like to see Emily smile with this kind of pleasure? She had to forget that time. It was gone. But she couldn’t forget. Still clung to those precious days.

Grant stretched his arms out, waiting as the surgical tech slipped the green gown over his arms and went around him to tie it in the back. Had he lost his mind?

He knew nothing about babies. Hadn’t wanted to know anything about them. Now one had been plopped into his lap. More amazing was that he planned to fight to keep her.

Grant’s teen years hadn’t been easy between him and his father, but his parents’ divorce had made it even worse. His father had left his mother. The breakup had devastated her. She’d taken it so hard Grant had feared that she might be committed. With his parents divorced and his older brother living in a commune in California, all his mother’s care had fallen on Grant. Thankfully he had convinced her to get help. Now she was living in Florida and by all accounts doing well.

To strain the relationship further, his father had ended up marrying Evelyn, the girl Grant had been in love with. Even at thirty-two, being betrayed by them had been the final slap in the face Grant had been willing to take. Trust had been hard to regain. His interactions with his father and Evelyn had been few and far between over the last two years. His father had made an effort but Grant had been unable to forgive him. Learning that he and Evelyn had had a baby only disgusted him more.

“Dr. Smythe, they’re waiting for you in surgery,” another tech called.

Grant shouldered his way through the swinging OR doors and into the room. The patient, a middle aged man, already waited on the table. “Sorry I’m late,” Grant said to the room in general before asking the anesthesiologist, “John, is everything ready to go?”

“Patient is stable,” John answered.

Grant stepped up beside Jane, the woman who was dressed much as he was. She was just months away from finishing her training as a transplant surgeon. “Where’s the liver?”

“Thirty minutes out,” Jane answered.

He nodded. Looking at the patient, he could see Jane was already in the process of opening. “Good, then let’s get this patient ready to receive his new liver. He has a family waiting.”

Here in this OR Grant was in control, the best at what he did. He appreciated order. Outside, life was more difficult, unexpected. Now that his father and stepmother were gone, he had to admit to a tinge of guilt over his father dying with their relationship in shambles. When Grant had learned his father hadn’t updated his will after Lily’s birth he’d found it difficult to believe. With his brother unavailable, Grant had been the next in line to receive custody of Lily. He couldn’t let his newborn sister be taken by state services, could he? How would his father have felt about that? He didn’t want to give her up to Evelyn’s aunt and uncle either. This was one task he would demonstrate himself worthy of.

“Doctor, the organ is here.”

A man entered, carrying a cooler. The pace would pick up and Grant would have to apply all his energy to seeing that the bad liver was removed and the new one put into place. He wouldn’t have time to think about Lily.

With the blood vessels clamped off and the organ removed, Grant inspected the new one. “It looks good. Let’s get this done.” Gently he placed the liver into the cavity and began stitching the vessels to it. The phone of the OR wall rang. Grant continued to work.

“Dr. Smythe, it’s for you.”

His brow wrinkled. “Who is it?”

The nursed asked, then called, “It’s a woman who says she’s your nanny.”

“What the hell?” he murmured. Louder, he said, “I can’t speak to her right now.”

The nurse relayed the message. “She is being rather insistent.”

He huffed. “Jane,” he said to the fellow, “would you please check for bleeding and start closing while I get this?”

A soft mumble followed him to the phone. His colleagues must find the situation curious. It was out of character for him to take a call while in the OR. He had a good relationship with his team but he was also known for not tolerating interruptions during surgeries.

He resisted grabbing the phone out of the nurse’s hand. “This had better be good,” he growled into it. “I’m in the middle of surgery.”

There was silence on the other end. Finally a voice said, “It’s Sara Marcum. I’m sorry, I had no idea that they would put me through to the OR.”

That eased his aggravation a little. “Now that you have me, what do you need?”

“It’s late. Since we had no time to talk I wanted to know if I’m supposed to stay the night. I didn’t come prepared for that. I have a father who is expecting me home.”

Grant hadn’t thought of that as he’d rushed out of the house. He’d just assumed... “Yes, I am going to need you tonight. Every night. If you’ll please just make do for now, I promise tomorrow I’ll give you a full list of your responsibilities. I need to get back to my case.”

“I have responsibilities as well but I’ll be here with the baby until you come home.”

“Thank you.” He hung up the phone. What responsibilities? Could hers be more important than a baby or a lifesaving transplant? He paused for a second. Hadn’t she said something about being evicted? Maybe she had gigantic problems as well. He’d get this transplant patient taken care of first and then head for the house. Losing a nanny again wasn’t what he needed.

As he returned to the table his team gave him questioning looks over their masks. He shrugged. “I was given custody of a baby and have a new nanny. Now, can we get this patient closed and out to ICU?”

Sara hung up the phone. Dr. Smythe hadn’t been happy with her call but he’d left her no choice by leaving so abruptly. With an eviction on the horizon she needed the money this job would bring, but she wouldn’t allow anyone to treat her unprofessionally. He had almost done so by all but throwing the child at her and leaving.

It was time to find that nursery. Sara cradled the baby in her arms and, with the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she climbed the wide circular staircase to the second floor. Going along the passageway, she searched each room for one that looked like a baby’s room. At the end of the hall, across from the master bedroom, she found a small slice of heaven.

The walls were painted the palest pink. She’d had a pink room growing up. It had been that color when her mother had left. When this little girl became old enough, would she think she had done something wrong to make her mother leave, as she herself had? She hoped not.

Above a snowy-colored crib draped in rosy colored netting was the name ‘Lily’ in white letters on the wall. Lily. Pretty name.

Sara had been in such a hurry on the phone she’d forgotten to ask Lily’s name. It was nice to have one to call her. Sara looked down into the big eyes watching her. The baby looked like a Lily. The disadvantage to knowing her name was that it was another step closer to giving them a personal connection. Knowing someone’s name made you care more, the very thing Sara wanted to guard against.

The regal room fit Lily perfectly. Moving across the thick carpet of a similar quality to what was downstairs, Sara placed the baby in the bed.

What had Dr. Smythe been thinking? Only about himself, handing his child over without so much as telling Sara her name?

The medical field was a small world and she’d heard talk about the young dynamic doctor who did surgery with skill and precision. Still, to give your baby to someone you didn’t know and rush off without concern spoke of self-centeredness, even neglect. Hadn’t her mother done something similar with her? Sara had grown up thinking she’d caused her to leave. No child should wonder something like that.