The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical. Connie Cox
that worried about the fall-off of patients?
She probably was. Sheffield Memorial was her family’s legacy—something she took very seriously. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to make it thrive. Next thing he knew she would be sending in staff to put mints on the patients’ pillows.
Drake couldn’t fault her. If he’d had a legacy of any sort he might feel the same. But mongrels like him had no birthright to speak of. And the heritage he did have was better off left unspoken.
As soon as the door latched behind him, she stopped him with a hand to his arm, sending tingles to the soles of his feet. “Before we talk about the girl, I want you to get a physical. Your heart rate is too fast and your blood pressure is elevated.”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s a direct order. Got it?”
Protesting wouldn’t get him back on her good side. “Fine. I’ll get it checked out. I didn’t know you cared.”
“Of course I care. This hospital is in enough trouble with the media without one of our physicians dropping dead in the hallway because he neglected his own health.”
“Your concern is touching.” He put distance between them, but his arm still tingled where her hand had been.
Stephanie used all her will-power to keep from reaching out and pulling him back to her.
She craved the vibrations he sent through her when he touched her, the deep-seated sense of wellbeing and protection he gave her whenever he was near. But he had proved to her too many times that it was a false sense of security.
She couldn’t count on him to keep a dinner date, much less a vow of happily-ever-after.
Stephanie picked up her pace, putting even more distance between them. She didn’t need him, and neither did her baby.
A wave of exhaustion tinged with queasiness hit her, pressing on her shoulders and dragging at her heels. Normal, her obstetrician had promised her. It should pass soon.
Like a good Montclair, Stephanie soldiered on.
She would need to tell her parents soon.
They were so conservative. Telling them about her unplanned baby would disappoint them at first. Not only was she unwed, she was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. She should know how to prevent pregnancy.
Where once she would have whole-heartedly agreed with them, she now had a more sympathetic view. Accidents happened—even to medical professionals.
And this was a happy accident. She already loved her unborn child beyond measure.
Her parents and grandparents would support her in the end, even if they weren’t totally happy to do so.
The Montclairs and the Sheffields stuck together, putting on a united front. They always had. In fact, Stephanie felt confident that once they were over the shock of their dateless daughter being pregnant they would be thrilled at having a successor to carry on the family name—something her father perpetually worried about.
Her child would grow up knowing only respect and her unconditional love, no matter what anyone thought about his or her parentage. She would make sure of it.
Her child would be the center of her universe.
Yes, Stephanie was positive her child would lack for nothing except a father.
“Stephanie, are you all right?” Jason asked.
They had paused outside the conference room. When had they stopped walking? Preoccupation and distraction seemed to be another symptom of her pregnancy lately.
“I’m fine. Just fine,” she snapped at him.
“You’re pale.” He ran a finger down her cheek—way too intimate for their present circumstances. “And clammy. And you have a faraway look in your eyes.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“The lawsuit?”
“That’s an issue I can’t discuss with you right now.” Not until the board signed off on her decision. That would probably happen sometime this evening, during the Montclair-Sheffield fundraiser, with board members discreetly disappearing into a private alcove to affix their signatures to the document that would blemish Jason’s reputation.
But it was too late for second thoughts.
Soldier on, Stephanie.
Through the partially open blinds of the conference room she could see her diagnostic staff assembled. “They’re waiting on us.”
“Stephanie, if there’s anything I can do to help—”
His offer surprised her.
Too soon she would have the unfortunate duty of telling him how the hospital he had devoted his whole life to was selling him out.
Yes, he would be well compensated for his involuntary sacrifice, but the board didn’t understand. Jason didn’t do what he did for money. He did it out of passion.
Stephanie knew she was the only one who understood the passion Jason hid beneath his cynically stoic exterior.
All he had to do was brush against her to remind her.
“After you.” He held the door open for her, briefly trailing his fingertips on the small of her back to guide her through.
His gray eyes smoldered before he banked the fire, but she’d seen the desire that flickered there. And had felt a responding spark in herself—a spark that could all too easily be fanned into a full-blown inferno.
All vestiges of nausea and lethargy fled at his touch.
They were so good together. Maybe if …
No, it was too late for second thoughts.
CHAPTER TWO
JASON saw that Dr. Riser and Dr. Phillips had already seated themselves at the table with a cup of coffee each.
He turned to the kitchenette that housed a small microwave and refrigerator along with a pair of electric burners. One burner held a pot of brewed coffee, but Stephanie preferred tea.
Filling the extra pot with water, he put it on the burner to boil.
“It’s rather warm in here, isn’t it?” Stephanie began to peel off her lab coat.
Her skin was now flushed with healthy color instead of holding that pallor her worry had caused her. She really needed to get away—with him. A little time in his mountain cabin on his faux fur rug would fix her right up.
“Let me help you.” Jason stepped toward her to help—out of politeness, but mostly out of the desire to touch her again. He yearned for that zing they created between them whenever they made contact, and couldn’t keep himself from trying to recreate it whenever he had the chance.
But she shrugged away his outstretched hand as she hung the lab coat on the rack near the door.
Yes, her curves were definitely curvier.
As she slid into her office chair she picked up her glasses, anchored them low on the bridge of her nose and looked over the top at him. Did she know how that prim and proper look set him on fire? Was she teasing him on purpose?
He hoped so, but doubted it.
Since that fateful night two weeks ago, when he’d got caught up in his work and had to cancel their dinner date, she had rebuffed every move he’d made. He set the steeping cup of tea in front of her.
“No, thank you. I’m cutting down on caffeine.” She shoved it back to him. “Now, tell me what’s going on with little Maggie.”
Jason took a sip of the tea himself, although it was too sweet for his taste. Then he stood and pointed to the whiteboard that listed symptoms and