The Nurse's Pregnancy Miracle. Ann McIntosh
too. Nick had said he’d consider children once his career was more settled, although he was already well on his way. Now Nychelle couldn’t help wondering what David’s reason was. He didn’t strike her as the selfish type.
Charm, which Nick had exhibited in abundance, was something she’d learned could be easily feigned, and it differed markedly from good character and genuine caring. Even her father, normally coolly distant, had the ability to turn on the charm when he thought it worthwhile.
Nychelle couldn’t help wondering if the real David was hiding behind a thin veneer of charisma, like the one Nick had. Not that it mattered to her. She couldn’t care less. Wouldn’t allow herself to care.
What truly irked her, though, was her physical reaction to David, since she should know better than to be attracted to another charmer.
As she lay back in the water, it wasn’t the popping of the soap bubbles floating away from her skin that raised goose bumps on her arms and chest and made her nipples tighten and tingle. It was the memory of watching David’s hands as he’d worked, hearing the warm cadence of his voice as he’d soothed the patient and his mother, and the breathlessness she’d felt each time his gaze caught hers or she looked at his lips.
With a little groan of surrender Nychelle swept a palm over one breast, succumbing to the lure of a fantasy in which David Warmington pulled her close to his strong body and kissed her until she turned to putty in those gorgeous hands.
And somehow she knew those hands, lips and body could bring her more pleasure than she’d ever known before.
“Cut it out, Nychelle.”
Saying it out loud didn’t stop the ache building in her core, and with a growl of frustration she slapped both palms down on the surface of the water, inadvertently splashing herself in the face.
“Oh, for crying out loud!”
Spluttering, she wiped the soapy water from her cheeks, then laughed as she reached for a towel to dry her eyes. It was the kind of silly thing she’d usually share with Aliya, but in this case probably wouldn’t. The last thing she needed was to get in the habit of talking to her cousin about David. Aliya would definitely pick up on hearing his name over and over again.
Despite claiming to understand why Nychelle was undergoing IUI, her cousin had tried to convince her to wait a little longer before having a baby.
“There’s a man out there for you,” Aliya had said over lunch the last time she’d come to Florida for a visit. “I know Nick broke your heart, and you’re probably not ready to trust yet, but give it a little more time.”
Just the sound of her ex-fiancé’s name had made a sour taste rise into the back of her throat, and Nychelle had shaken her head. “It’s not about Nick.”
When Aliya’s eyebrows had gone up, Nychelle had known her cousin didn’t believe her.
“It’s not all about Nick,” she’d qualified. “Yes, he broke my heart, but that was a couple of years ago, and I’m over it.”
“Are you really?” Aliya had pressed the point. “You were with him for years, and he used our family connections to advance his career. Then he cheated on you and got some other girl pregnant after telling you he wasn’t ready to have a child yet. I’d have a hard time getting over that. And the fact you won’t even consider waiting to find someone else tells me you’re anything but over it.”
“I don’t need a relationship to get what I want.” She raised her hand to stop her cousin launching into a rebuttal. “And I don’t have time to build one, to learn to trust again, before I start trying to conceive.”
“But...”
“No. You know that with the scarring on my uterus the longer I wait to try to start a family the harder it will be. Realistically, I’m almost thirty, and at the optimal time in my life—physically, financially and emotionally—to start a family. I don’t want to wait, hoping I’ll meet someone, and miss this chance.”
Aliya’s expression had softened, and she’d said, “From when you were little you said you wanted a big family. I guess that’s never changed.”
“Exactly. So I’m going to do the IUI and let the rest of it take care of itself.” Then she’d added, just so Aliya wouldn’t figure out she wasn’t planning even to consider another relationship and get on her case, “If there’s someone out there for me he’ll find me, or I’ll find him. If not, it’s not a big deal.”
“Huh.” Disgruntlement had radiated from Aliya’s snort. “I still think waiting a couple years more wouldn’t hurt.”
Now, as Nychelle stepped out of the tub, she reached down to touch her belly, skimming her fingertips over the place where, hopefully, her baby was growing and thriving. “It’s okay that it’s just you and me, sweetie. We really don’t need anyone else.”
Funny how suddenly the words had a bittersweet quality—but she didn’t want to consider why that might be. Instead, she gave her reflection a bracing nod, then turned away to reach for her towel. This was the best time of her life and nothing would make her regret trying for a baby.
Nothing.
THERE WAS SOMETHING a little off about David Warmington today, but Nychelle couldn’t put her finger on it. Perhaps it was that for the first time she sensed he was growing ever more irritated with a patient.
Not that she could blame him. Douglas Comstock, a sports agent referred to the clinic by one of his star clients, was being willfully difficult. He’d come in complaining of persistent leg pain, and after examining him she’d sent him for X-rays and a MRI. He had requested pain medication, because over-the-counter painkillers were no longer working, and since nurse practitioners weren’t allowed to prescribe medication Nychelle had requested one of the GPs see him. David had been available.
Now she was being treated to a battle of wills, her head swiveling back and forth between the two men as though she were at a debate. It would be entertaining if it weren’t for the fact she was sure David was having a hard time dealing with this patient.
As she watched, it seemed David took a deeper than necessary breath before saying, “Mr. Comstock—”
“Doug.” The man grinned, totally at ease. Almost seeming to be enjoying himself. “Call me Doug, Doc.”
“Doug. I’m going to refer you to Dr. Napoli, who is one of the best orthopedic surgeons in Florida. But, I’m telling you, she’s not going to be able to help you until you lose some weight.”
Doug Comstock was still smiling, even as he shook his head. “Don’t bother sending me to anyone else. Just give me some meds, Doc, and I’ll be on my way. As I was telling Nychelle, that losing weight thing’s probably just not going to happen. I’m on the road for most of the year, traveling with the athletes I manage, and I don’t have time to add anything else to my schedule, you know?”
He made the argument sound reasonable, but David was having none of it.
“No,” he countered. “I don’t know. Explain to me how eating healthier and getting exercise are going to disrupt your schedule.”
“Sure, Doc.”
Doug kept right on smiling, and Nychelle realized it was probably part of the reason he was successful. It was an effective way to rebuff almost any dissent.
“I’m at sporting events most nights, or out scouting new talent. Then there are after-parties or press conferences. Even if there are no events there are dinners, where I’m schmoozing prospective clients or dealing with owners. I’m up with the birds, on the phone making connections, setting things up, talking to people on the other side of the world. Then I’m taking people to lunch, or sitting around