LITMIR.BIZ

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big-number three and zero candles? Zora can manage. As for cake-cutting, when my brother-in-law sees dessert, everybody better clear a path.”

      “It’s your birthday,” he reminded her. “I’ll finish straightening here. Go eat.”

      Zady’s wry gaze met his. “I’d rather wait till...”

      When she broke off, Nick guessed the rest. “Till Marshall arrives?”

      “Yes. I’d like to get that out of the way.”

      “The tattling part?”

      She blew a strand of hair sideways off her cheek. “Yeah. The part where I metaphorically stab you in your evil heart. Does that sum it up?”

      “I haven’t yet thrown in my lot with the conspiracy,” Nick responded mildly. “Although I do agree that space should be allotted to other doctors.”

      “That’s not my problem.” Zady planted hands on hips. “Anything else?”

      Nick had trouble organizing his thoughts with her standing there, her face animated and her knit top stretching over her breasts. “Yeah. You look really cute.”

      “How condescending!”

      “Have trouble accepting compliments, do you?”

      “Only from the devil’s minions.” She laughed.

      “Hey, I’m a good guy. Mostly.” Judging by the noises from the den, everyone had dug into the cake. Nick was too busy enjoying the conversation to care about dessert. “I deliver babies night and day. Well, night and sometimes day if we’re busy.” He’d stayed until 10:00 a.m. once this week.

      Zady studied him. “Why do you work such long hours? It must interfere with your swinging-bachelor life.”

      “Is my cousin trotting out that old ‘He’s a playboy’ crap?” In all honesty, Nick was partly to blame for the image. At a family gathering years ago, he’d called Marshall a stuffed shirt and bragged about his own playboy antics—mostly invented—while sailing to the top of his medical school class at UCLA.

      He’d been aware that his successes, which resulted as much from a top-notch memory as from hard work, had been a sore spot with his cousin. A year older and proud of his admission to Harvard Medical School, Marshall had assumed he should be superior at everything. Instead, he’d struggled with his studies until he hit on his true talent as a surgeon.

      “Let me guess. Your goal is to get rich enough to buy your own hospital,” Zady said.

      “Don’t forget the private fleet of jets.” Okay, enough teasing. Nick could see from her dubious expression that she half believed him. “I don’t come from wealthy parents like my cousin. I’m paying off med school and supporting a son. I have a three-year-old—no doubt he mentioned that.”

      “In passing.”

      “What did he say, exactly?”

      “That you weren’t involved with raising your child.” Her guarded tone implied she was softening his cousin’s comments.

      “I’m as involved as I can arrange.” No more light tone. “Caleb’s mother died six months ago in a boating accident. I let him stay with his grandparents, but I visit every week. However, during the last month, they’ve become—”

      Although he wasn’t sure why he’d started to confide in her, he felt a flash of irritation when the doorbell interrupted. If that was Marshall, Nick doubted he’d get a further chance to explain. Still, he appreciated being able to correct a few of Zady’s false impressions.

      In fairness, Marshall had no doubt only repeated what he’d heard from his mother, who must have drawn what she considered a logical conclusion from the fact that Nick didn’t marry the woman carrying his child. Neither his cousin nor his aunt was likely to give Nick the benefit of any doubt.

      “I’d like to hear more, if you’re still speaking to me,” Zady said before hurrying to answer the door.

      How much more should he share? Well, Nick could use feedback about his current concerns. He’d hate to misinterpret the Carrigans’ behavior and antagonize them needlessly. However, once Zady told Marshall about the forces allied against him, he would raise the drawbridge and release crocodiles into the moat.

      Luckily, I know how to swim and dodge at the same time. Nick only regretted that the barrier between him and Zady, which had lifted briefly today, would once again slam into place.

      * * *

      DESPITE HER PLAN to share what she’d learned, Zady found that difficult as she welcomed her doctor into the house. His expression guarded, Marshall squared his already straight shoulders beneath his dark blue jacket and handed her two gifts decorated with satiny paper and elaborate bows.

      “Happy birthday.”

      “Thanks.” Zady cast an uneasy glance toward the living room, but Nick had vanished. “Come in.”

      Now what should she say? She could hardly blurt, “By the way, while I was lurking in the pantry sulking about my ex-boyfriend’s baby, I eavesdropped on a plot.” How melodramatic.

      Also, what Nick had said about his son gave her pause. While she doubted Marshall had been deliberately untruthful, he’d gotten his facts wrong. That was unrelated to the conspiracy, but was it wise to choose sides?

      “Everybody’s in here.” The gifts in her arms, she led him to the den.

      The sight of Dr. Rattigan drew a smile from Marshall. Pleased to see him unwind a little, Zady introduced her boss to a few people en route to joining his supervisor. After he seemed settled, she and Zora opened his gifts.

      The boxes contained expensive skin-care products. “Ooh, this smells wonderful!” Zora exclaimed. “Zady and I can have a beauty day.”

      “These are fabulous,” Zady agreed.

      Marshall ducked his head. “The department store clerk recommended them. I’m afraid I’m no expert on gifts for ladies.”

      “You did great.” Lucky approached carrying slices of red-velvet cake with cream-cheese frosting. “Here you go, Dr. Davis. Zady, you, too.”

      There was plenty of cake left, she noticed, and remembered that Nick hadn’t had any. Where was he?

      Ah, there, hanging back near the kitchen. One of the Adams girls, trying to squeeze past, bumped him and giggled loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

      If someone had whacked Marshall with a rod, he couldn’t have reacted more strongly. At the sight of his cousin, every muscle in his body stiffened.

      Zady might have responded pretty much the same had she run into Zora unexpectedly before they reconciled last fall. Their dysfunctional mother had pitted them against each other their entire lives, but once Zady moved back to the area, she and her sister had quickly seen through the lies. Whatever misunderstandings—or well-grounded enmities—lay between these cousins probably had deeper roots.

      The men nodded in mute acknowledgment. Zora broke the tension by declaring that the wrappings were too lovely to throw away. “You never know when they’ll come in handy. Maybe for a craft project.”

      Zady joined her in folding them. “I’m sure we’ll reuse them.”

      Leaving his untouched plate on a side table, Marshall hurried to pick up a bow that had dropped to the carpet. “I’d hate to leave a mess,” he explained, handing it to her.

      “Thanks,” she said. “But you should take it easy. You’re a guest.”

      “If something needs doing, I’d rather take care of it immediately,” he replied.

      The doctor was uncomfortable at social gatherings, Zora reflected. Perhaps that explained why, according to hospital gossip, he didn’t

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