The Husband Project: The Tryad Trilogy, #3

By Leigh Michaels

Everywhere she looks, there are babies

…and she wants one of her own. Alison Novak's biological clock is ticking down, and she's desperate to have a baby while there's still time. But she doesn't want a husband – Alison's happy to keep every man in her life in the friend zone. So when Dr. Logan Kavanaugh offers help, she's willing to listen.

 

He's got his own set of problems

As a single doctor in an OB-GYN practice, Logan has to walk a careful line with both patients and partners. When one of his fellow doctors has an affair with a patient and is asked to leave the practice, the remaining partners make it plain they don't trust Logan not to do the same, and they really, really wish he was married.

 

It's only a simple ceremony

He proposes a deal. If Alison will agree to a marriage of convenience, to last just until he can find a new job, he'll make sure she gets her baby. But they'll have to make it appear their marriage is real.

 

Perception is everything

If they can't pull off the charade, Logan will lose his job. And if Alison is caught taking part in a scam, her public relations firm will suffer from the blowback–hurting not only Alison but her two partners.

Even with the success of Tryad Public Relations at stake, can Alison continue to keep her eye on the prize—when living with Logan makes this mirage feel all too real?

 

Because heaven forbid Alison might want the sexy doctor most of all.

 

The Tryad Public Relations trilogy:

Book 1: The Billionaire Date

Book 2: The Playboy Assignment

Book 3: The Husband Project

• Language: English
• Publisher: PBL Limited
• Release date: Jan 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201763312

Leigh Michaels

Leigh Michaels (https://leighmichaels.com) is the author of more than 100 books, including contemporary romance novels, historical romance novels, and non-fiction books including local history and books about writing. She is the author of Writing the Romance Novel, which has been called the definitive guide to writing romances. Six of her books have been finalists in the Romance Writers of America RITA contest for best traditional romance of the year, and she has won two Reviewers' Choice awards from Romantic Times (RT Book Review) magazine. More than 35 million copies of her books have been published in 25 languages and 120 countries around the world. She teaches romance writing online at Gotham Writers Workshop.

Book preview

The Husband Project

By Leigh Michaels

Copyright 1998, 2022

All rights reserved

The Husband Project

Everywhere she looks, there are babies

...and she wants one of her own. Alison Novak’s biological clock is ticking down, and she’s desperate to have a baby while there’s still time. But she doesn’t want a husband – Alison’s happy to keep every man in her life in the friend zone. So when Dr. Logan Kavanaugh offers help, she’s willing to listen.

He’s got his own set of problems

As a single doctor in an OB-GYN practice, Logan has to walk a careful line with both patients and partners. When one of his fellow doctors has an affair with a patient and is asked to leave the practice, the remaining partners make it plain they don’t trust Logan not to do the same, and they really, really wish he was married.

It’s only a simple ceremony

He proposes a deal. If Alison will agree to a marriage of convenience, to last just until he can find a new job, he’ll make sure she gets her baby. But they’ll have to make it appear their marriage is real.

Perception is everything

If they can’t pull off the charade, Logan will lose his job. And if Alison is caught taking part in a scam, her public relations firm will suffer from the blowback–hurting not only Alison but her two partners.

Even with the success of Tryad Public Relations at stake, can Alison continue to keep her eye on the prize—when living with Logan makes this mirage feel all too real?

Because heaven forbid Alison might want the sexy doctor most of all.

The Tryad Public Relations trilogy:

Book 1: The Billionaire Date

Book 2: The Playboy Assignment

Book 3: The Husband Project

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Other Books by Leigh Michaels

CHAPTER ONE

Everywhere she looked , there were babies.

In the supermarket, they cooed and grabbed at bright-colored packages. In the park she passed each day on her walk to work, they toddled through tall grass and dug in the sandboxes. In the office of one of her clients, a set of infant twins napped cherubically on a blanket behind the enormous walnut desk.

Despite what she was seeing, however, Alison Novak knew the Windy City hadn’t actually had an abrupt population explosion. Human beings had a tendency to see what they looked for, and she was no exception. As soon as a person became acquainted with a new word, she was apt to see it everywhere from billboards to grocery ads. Likewise, as soon as a woman realized how urgently she wanted a baby...

It was the first time she’d admitted that her longing for a child had gone beyond desire all the way to desperation, and the realization twisted Alison’s heart into a pretzel.

As if in answer, the pain which had for weeks been coming and going in her abdomen flared sharply. This one was worse than usual. It shot clear through to her spine and brought tiny beads of perspiration to her upper lip.

Abruptly, she changed her mind about going back to the office and turned into Flanagan’s instead. The small neighborhood bar was quiet and cool, and she could sit there for a few minutes till the pain calmed, as experience told her it would.

In any case, it was just half an hour till her partners would be joining her. The three owners of Tryad Public Relations met at Flanagan’s every Friday evening for bratwurst and a wrap-up of the week’s work. With any luck, by the time Kit and Susannah arrived, this attack would have passed and Alison would be back to normal.

She sank into a booth not far from the front door and asked the waitress for a glass of seltzer water with a slice of lemon. As Alison waited for the drink to arrive, she leaned her head against the tall back of the booth and closed her eyes, focusing her attention inward.

Though the pain was a little worse than it had been before, it was following the same basic pattern—starting off like the worst stitch in her side she’d ever felt, and gradually diminishing as she sat still. This time it seemed to be concentrated on the left.

She was so intent on analyzing the discomfort that she didn’t see the waitress bring her drink, and she didn’t realize her partners had arrived till she heard Susannah’s voice coming toward the booth. It’s perfectly awful, that’s what it is.... Are you taking a nap, Ali?

Alison opened her eyes and sat up a bit too suddenly. The dim little bar seemed to revolve for a moment, and Susannah’s face, full of concern, swam before her eyes. I’m fine. What’s perfectly awful, Sue?

Susannah flung herself into the seat beside Alison. The single most valuable piece of art the Dearborn Museum owns was vandalized this afternoon.

The Evans Jackson painting? Alison was startled. How could anybody vandalize it?

Across the table, Kit choked and started to laugh. You sound almost like me, Ali. I wanted to know how anyone could tell it had been damaged. It was nothing but smears of red paint on a white canvas in the first place.

"That was not what Ali asked. Somebody sneaked a can of spray paint into the Museum and made a few additions."

Maybe it’ll actually increase the value, Kit murmured.

You have no appreciation of modern art.

Neither do you, so don’t be a hypocrite, Sue.

Susannah looked stern for a few more seconds before she burst into giggles. "That’s true. And I have to admit—only to you guys, of course—that it did look better. At least there’s some variety now. However, when anything that’s insured for half a million gets damaged, it’s.... Why aren’t we in our usual spot, Ali?"

Fresh air. Alison waved a hand toward the propped-open door. Fall’s coming fast, so we’d better enjoy this while we can.

That wasn’t bad for thinking quickly. She wasn’t about to admit that ten minutes ago she hadn’t felt like walking another step.

"It is warm in here, Kit agreed. Though you look a bit pale, Ali. You didn’t walk all the way back from downtown, did you?"

Alison shrugged. It’s rush hour. if I’d tried to get a cab I wouldn’t be here yet.

Susannah slid to the far end of the bench seat, turning to stare at Alison with her eyes narrowed. If it was the walk, she’d be flushed instead of pale, Kit.

Kit’s eyebrows rose. You’re right.

Susannah picked up the glass of wine the waitress had set before her. And it’s not just today, either. Ali’s been ghostly-white for a while now. I’ve always thought she looks sort of like an old-fashioned china doll, all shiny black hair and porcelain complexion, but there are limits.

And one of my limits is when you talk about me as if I’m not here, Alison reminded. Anyway, I’m fine. I’m just a little tired from a long week.

She didn’t think she’d been terribly convincing, because Kit’s eyebrows remained elevated and Susannah’s blue-green eyes were watchful. But to her relief neither of them pushed the question.

Kit drew circles on the table with the base of her soft-drink glass and said, Sue and I have some great ideas for getting the singles club up and running, Ali.

Alison sighed. Look, guys. I’m sorry, but you know very well I’ve been no more than lukewarm on the idea of the singles club since Sue first came up with it.

You’re the one who suggested getting a restaurant to sponsor it, Susannah pointed out. And that’s the key to—

One suggestion hardly makes me a fan. And I can’t do a good job on a project I think is ludicrous.

Oh, really? Kit murmured. "What kind of public relations person are you, anyway? We’re always doing something ludicrous. If you think I want to brag about creating a bunch of dancing ducks to promote the new water park—"

But you believe in the water park, Alison reminded.

Doesn’t matter. Besides, you can’t expect either Susannah or me to do it. You’re the only one of us who can, Ali.

Alison sighed. Because I’m the only one of us who’s still single.

Exactly, Kit murmured.

That is completely illogical, you know. It’s like saying I can’t make a good video welcoming newcomers to Chicago unless I’m a newcomer, and that’s just—

There was no warning this time, and the pain which racked her was by far the worst she’d ever experienced. Alison clutched at her abdomen. She’d have doubled up, but there wasn’t room in the narrow booth.

Susannah’s gaze met Kit’s. An ambulance, do you think?

No! Alison struggled to sit upright. Almost automatically she said, It’ll pass.

Sure of that, are you? Kit sounded skeptical.

It always has before.

"Oh, that’s reassuring! How long have you been feeling this way, Ali?"

Weeks, Susannah said darkly. Remember, Kit? Clear back when you started having morning sickness, Ali was—

If she hadn’t been feeling so wretched, Alison would have burst into laughter at the sudden suspicion in Susannah’s eyes. I’m not pregnant, she managed. It’s just... cramps or something. A little worse than usual, but—

Kit said crisply, Excuse me for missing the occasion, but just when did you get your medical degree? We’re going to check this out right now. Go get your car, Susannah.

Susannah didn’t move. Are you sure I shouldn’t call the paramedics?

I’m not sure of anything, Kit said. But we can’t ride with her in the ambulance, so we’ll need the car anyway. She dug her phone from the depths of her handbag.

Susannah nodded and hurried toward the door.

Oh, for heaven’s... Another wave of pain swamped Alison’s voice.

Kit flipped madly through her contacts. "I knew I should have already put this number on auto-dial."

I don’t want an ambulance, Kit.

I’m calling a friend.

Alison, taken aback, could only stare at her. A friend?

A friend who also happens to be my obstetrician.

I told you, I’m not—

—Pregnant. I heard you. Obviously there’s something very wrong, and the way you’re clutching your tummy makes it a good bet that you’ll end up consulting somebody in that field. Besides, Logan’s the only doctor I can think of who’s likely to still be in his office after six on a Friday night. She turned her attention to the telephone. Is Doctor Kavanaugh in? I see. Will you page him and ask him to call Kit Webster? It’s an emergency.

The worst of the wave had passed, and Alison could get her breath again. I’m too busy for this. I’ve got a video to finish. She was startled by the high, tight pitch of her voice and the panic which clutched her throat.

Kit put the phone down next to her soft drink. Exactly. And if you’d stop to think about it, Ali, you’d realize I’m only doing this because I’m darned if I want to get stuck finishing your video. The words were tart, but her smile was warm and reassuring.

Alison’s panic eased a little, but the lump in her throat suddenly felt as big as the Sears Tower. Yeah, right. Kitty, I don’t deserve you and Sue.

Can we get that in writing? Susannah rushed up to the booth, breathless. I’m parked on the sidewalk, so it might be a good idea if we don’t hang around here much longer.

Kit’s phone chimed and she turned away to answer it.

I can walk, Alison said.

Susannah looked doubtful. But when Alison pushed herself to her feet, Susannah quickly offered her arm. Their progress was slow, hampered not only by Alison’s discomfort but by Flanagan’s other patrons, crowding around to offer advice.

They were almost to the car when Kit caught up. Now that’s luck, she said briskly. Logan’s at the nearest hospital and he’s just finished a delivery. He’ll meet us in the emergency room.

Alison sank into the back seat. There was no comfortable position; what she wanted to do was draw her knees up to her chest and howl. In a feeble effort to distract herself, she said, Was his delivery a boy or a girl?

I didn’t stop to chat, Kit said dryly. For all I know it could have been a FedEx package.

In the emergency room, Susannah went to deal with the paperwork and Kit waited outside the small treatment room while two staff members swarmed over Alison to do a preliminary examination. It was only after they had left and quiet descended on the room that she really realized where she was, and what was likely to happen.

Time to face the truth. You were an idiot to tell yourself nothing was wrong. Now you can’t pretend any more. And if your nightmares turn out to be fact after all—

Alison’s heart seemed to be skipping every other beat as fear pumped adrenaline through her veins. She tried to keep her eyes so tightly closed that the tears couldn’t seep out, but it was impossible.

Kit took her hand. Another one? Take long slow breaths and squeeze as hard as you need to, Ali.

Alison shook her head. No. I’m just... so stupid. Thinking if I pretended it didn’t hurt, it would stop.

Kit said slowly, And if you didn’t see a doctor then nothing could really be wrong? That’s a first-class case of denial, Ali, and I could just— but this isn’t the time for a scolding.

Susannah appeared in the doorway. Why not? Sounds to me like she deserves one. She came to Alison’s other side and brushed a lock of perspiration-dampened dark hair back from her temple. It’ll be all right now.

It might never be all right again.

Susannah’s grin was mischievous. I can promise that, you see, because I just caught a glimpse of your doctor. Let me tell you, Ali, you are one lucky girl.

A rustle from the doorway made both Susannah and Kit move away from the exam table. Restlessly, Alison turned her head.

Lying flat on her back, looking almost directly into the bright overhead lights, was hardly the best way to get a good view. Even so, Alison had no trouble figuring out what Susannah had been talking about. Her visual perception might be skewed and a good part of her attention was focused on her pain. Nevertheless, she realized with her first glance that her new doctor was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen.

He was tall and broad-shouldered; the washed-out green scrub suit which would have been baggy on another man fitted him almost as if it had been tailored. His hair was an unruly dark brown thatch, just a little longer than it ought to have been. His face was angular, with a strong jaw and a mouth which hinted that he liked to smile.

She looked up into his eyes. They were green—a deep, true green that Alison had never seen before—surrounded with indecently long and curly lashes.

He was surveying her every bit as closely, but for different reasons. Alison could almost see the calculator in his brain checking off symptoms even before he offered a hand, large and capable and tanned. Ms. Novak? I’m Logan Kavanaugh. Tell me when you started to feel this pain.

He listened with his head tilted just a little to one side, jotting notes from time to time on the tablet he carried, those brilliant green eyes seeming never to leave her even when Kit interrupted now and then with more details. Then he laid the tablet on a nearby cabinet and said, "And it hurts... right here, is that right?"

Alison was sure that under normal circumstances the pressure of his hand on her abdomen would have been no more than a firm touch. But she felt as if a cannonball had hit her squarely where she hurt worst. She screamed, and her body instinctively folded up into a