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embryos. Babies. His and Mary’s babies.

      But he didn’t want to open old wounds any more than he already had this evening. So after he finished off the last of his coffee, he said, “Thank you for talking to me, Doctor.”

      “Please,” she said. “Call me Selena.”

      Selena. It was a pretty name, and one that fit her, if you left “Doctor” out of the equation.

      “All right, Selena.” Her name rolled right off the tip of his tongue as if it was the easiest word in the world to say. And as he came to that realization, a smile formed from somewhere deep inside of him.

      Were they becoming friends? If so, he was okay with it.

      Was she?

      * * *

      Selena wasn’t sure why she’d suggested that Mr. Connor—or rather, Alex—call her by her first name. Maybe it was because they’d somehow bonded over the time it took to drink a cup of coffee.

      Or maybe they were kindred spirits because his plight was similar to her own. He couldn’t have his wife’s babies without the help of someone willing to carry them. And Selena couldn’t have a child unless a birth mother was willing to give up a baby she couldn’t keep or didn’t want to raise.

      Eighteen months ago, following a routine exam, Selena had learned that she’d never be able to get pregnant or carry a baby to term. The news had been heartbreaking for a woman who’d always dreamed of being a mother.

      She’d hoped that with time, she would adjust to the reality and deal with it, but knowing that she’d never be able to experience the miracle of conception or go through the birth process had really begun to niggle at her lately.

      Okay, she admitted. It was way more than a niggle. She’d been so dismayed, so crushed by the situation that doing her job had become more and more difficult with each passing day. Every time she thought of the miracle of conception, heard the cries of a newborn or spotted the happy tears of a new mommy holding her baby for the very first time, her disappointment grew.

      At one time, she’d thought she had the perfect career. She loved delivering babies. But ever since the surgery and learning that she’d never be able to experience the miracle of childbirth herself, she’d found it getting tougher to go to the office each day.

      But she shook off the melancholic thought, picked up her empty, heat-resistant paper cup and got to her feet. “Thanks for the coffee.”

      “You’re more than welcome.” Alex pushed back his seat and stood. “Thank you for agreeing to teach the class. You’re providing a great service to people who are struggling with fertility issues.”

      She probably ought to respond and say something about being happy to offer those couples various options, but the truth was, she’d been seriously considering a career change of some kind and had almost refused to give the lecture series at all.

      “Can I walk you to your car?” he asked.

      For a moment, she wondered if his interest in her had been more romantic in nature than merely polite and appreciative, but she dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come to her. Alex Connor had loved his wife so much that he was determined to bring their children into the world and raise them without her.

      She glanced at the handsome cowboy beside her, deciding that his offer had been a gallant gesture. “Thanks, but I’m parked in a safe place.”

      “All right.” He lobbed another smile her way, sending her heart on a scavenger hunt for miracles that didn’t exist.

      “Good night, Selena.”

      She clung to the sound of her name on his lips, to the sincerity in those green eyes. But she cleared her voice and took a step back. “Good night, Alex.”

      “I’ll see you next week.”

      Yes, she supposed he would. As she turned and strode toward the exit, she couldn’t help thinking that Alex Connor was an attractive and appealing man. But she’d never dated the cowboy types—and didn’t plan to in the future.

      Yet even more than that, he was still devoted to his late-wife’s memory. So Selena would do her best to shake any inappropriate thoughts about him.

      She knew how it felt to fall for a man who’d never gotten over his first true love. And she knew just how painful a broken heart could be.

      As a result, she’d vowed never to play second fiddle again.

      Still, as she stepped into the parking lot, she couldn’t help being a little envious of the late Mary Connor.

      Chapter Two

      Late Thursday afternoon, when her last patient had left and she’d closed up the office, Selena had driven to the new Brighton Valley Wellness Center.

      A few days after it had opened for business, Selena had taken a tour with several of her colleagues. She’d been amazed at all the facility had to offer the community, including a rehab unit, a state-of-the-art gym, physical trainers on hand to answer questions or provide private lessons, an indoor pool, a variety of classes. But more than that, it also catered to the disabled and elderly because of its close connection to the medical center.

      In fact, Selena had been so impressed with the center that she’d signed up before leaving that day, telling herself it wasn’t just about becoming more physically fit. After all, she watched her diet and jogged daily. But joining the BVWC would also fit nicely into her get-out-into-the-real-world-and-start-living-again campaign.

      Now all she had to do was find the time to work out, because she usually kept busy with her ever-growing practice. However, on the days she had another doctor covering for her, she slipped on a pair of shorts, a T-shirt and a pair of sneakers, just as she’d done today.

      Now here she was, jogging on the treadmill and working up a sweat. With each stride she made, she pondered her options and considered the other medical specialties that had always interested her. The problem was, without going back to school and racking up more student loans, she’d have to settle on general or family medicine.

      But not in Brighton Valley. In spite of the respect she’d earned in the medical community, she was giving some serious thought to selling her practice and moving back to Houston, where she’d change her specialty to one that didn’t revolve around pregnancy and newborns.

      That was her secret, though. That and the fact that there were way too many nights she’d found her small condominium overlooking the playground at the city park to be painfully quiet, nights when she’d cry herself to sleep.

      She’d loved that complex and the two-bedroom condo. But after learning she’d never get pregnant, she’d listed it for sale. And just six months ago, after selling her first home to a couple of newlyweds, she’d moved to a quiet, older neighborhood in town.

      When her time on the treadmill came to an end and she began the cool-down process, she scanned the gym and spotted a man who looked a lot like Alex Connor. In fact, it was Alex, only minus his Stetson and boots. Today he wore a Texas Aggies T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, rather than the cowboy garb he’d had on Tuesday night.

      He was talking to one of the female fitness instructors—a tall, lean blonde with a healthy glow.

      What was he doing here? Not that it mattered, she supposed. It’s just that she’d been a little surprised when he hadn’t blinked about the cost of hiring a gestational carrier to bare his children.

      At the time, she’d suspected that he might own a ranch. But why was he working out at a gym in town? Wouldn’t he get enough exercise from riding and roping and doing whatever else was required of him?

      So who was Alex Connor?

      Ever since she’d shared a cup of coffee with him, she’d found herself thinking about him, wondering about him. She’d chalked it up to her interest in the relationship he must have had with

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