A Very Special Delivery. Brenda Harlen
and a half months pregnant. Still, the fact that she was about to give birth didn’t make her any less attractive, although he would have hoped that this tangible evidence of her involvement with another man should have cooled his ardor.
But the combination of her beauty and spirit appealed to something in him. She’d found herself in a tough situation, but she was dealing with it. Sure, she was scared. Under the circumstances, who wouldn’t be? But she’d demonstrated a willingness to face that fear head-on, and he had to respect that courage and determination. And when he looked into those blue-gray eyes, he wanted to take up his sword to fight all of her battles for her. Not that she would appreciate his efforts—most women preferred to fight their own battles nowadays, but the desire to honor and protect was deeply ingrained in his DNA.
He wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, though. Sure, he liked women and enjoyed their company, but he wasn’t looking to tie himself to any one woman for the long term. His brothers had both lucked out and found partners with whom they wanted to share the rest of their lives, and he was happy for them, but he didn’t see himself as the marrying kind. Certainly he’d never met a woman who made him think in terms of forever.
Which was just one more reason that he had no business thinking about Julie Marlowe at all. She might be beautiful and sexy but she was also on the verge of becoming a mother—no way would she be interested in a fling, and no way was he interested in anything else.
So he gave her privacy to strip down—and his plush robe to wrap around herself. He was trying to think about this situation as a doctor would—clinically and impartially. But how was he supposed to be impartial when she had those beautiful winter-sky eyes and those sweetly curved lips, sexy shoulders and sexy feet? And despite the baby bump, she had some very appealing curves, too.
When he returned to the family room, he was relieved to see that she was wearing the robe he’d left for her so she wasn’t entirely naked beneath the thin sheet she’d pulled up over herself. But she still looked vulnerable and scared, and every last shred of objectivity flew out the window.
She was panting—blowing out short puffs of air that warned him he’d missed another contraction. “I thought I had a pretty good threshold for pain,” she told him. “I was wrong.”
He knelt at the end of the chaise, and felt perspiration beginning to bead on his brow. She was the one trying to push a baby out of her body, and he was sweating at the thought of watching her do it. But when he folded back the sheet and saw the top of the baby’s head, everything else was forgotten.
“The baby’s already crowning,” he told her.
“Does that mean I can start to push?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He talked her through the contractions, telling her when to push and when to pant, trying to ensure that her body was able to adjust to each stage and rest when possible.
Of course, it was called labor for a reason, and although it was progressing quickly, he knew it wasn’t painless. Her hands were fisted in the sheet, and he covered one with his own, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It won’t be too much longer now.”
“Promise?”
He looked up and saw that her stormy eyes were filled with tears and worry. “I promise.”
As she pushed through the next contraction, the head slowly emerged. The soft, indignant cry that accompanied the baby’s emergence from the birth canal confirmed that its lungs were working just fine.
“You’re doing great,” he told Julie. “Just—”
He didn’t even have a chance to finish his sentence before the baby slid completely out and into his hands.
Chapter Three
Luke stared in awe at the wet, wrinkled infant that was somehow the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And when the baby looked at him with big blue eyes wide with innocence and wonder, he fell just a little bit in love with the little guy.
He wiped the baby’s face carefully with a clean, soft towel to ensure that his nose and mouth were clear of fluid. Then he wrapped him, still attached by the cord, in a blanket and laid him on his mother’s chest.
“And there he is,” he told her.
Julie blinked, as if startled by this statement. “He?”
“You have a beautiful, healthy baby boy,” he confirmed. “Born at 4:58 pm on November first.”
“A boy,” she echoed softly, her lips curving just a little. “My baby boy.”
Tears filled her eyes, then spilled onto her cheeks. She wiped at them impatiently with the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually so emotional.”
“It’s been an emotional day,” Luke said, feeling a little choked up himself.
It took her a few minutes to get her tears under control before she spoke again, and when she did, she surprised him by saying, “I thought he’d be a girl. I wanted a girl.” After a moment she continued. “I don’t even feel guilty admitting it now. Because looking down at him, I know that I couldn’t possibly love him any more if he had been a she. All that matters is that he’s mine.”
“Why did you want a girl?” he asked curiously.
“I guess I thought it would be easier to raise a girl, since I was once one myself. I don’t know anything about little boys. Or big boys.” She glanced up at him and offered a wry smile. “And personal experience has proven that I don’t understand the male gender at all.”
“Are you disappointed that he’s a he?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not disappointed at all. He’s...perfect.”
“That he is.”
“I never expected to feel so much. I look at him, and my heart practically overflows with love.” But she managed to lift her gaze from the baby to look at Luke now. “Thank you, Dr. Garrett.”
He didn’t know how to respond to her gratitude, especially when he felt as if he should be thanking her. Because in his entire life, he had honestly never experienced anything more incredible than helping to bring Julie’s beautiful baby boy into the world.
What he’d told her earlier was true—the hard part was all hers. And he couldn’t help but be awed by the strength and determination and courage she’d shown in face of the challenge. He felt honored and privileged to have been a part of the experience, to have been the very first person to hold the brand-new life in his hands.
By the time he’d cut the cord and delivered the placenta, Julie had put the baby to her breast and was already nursing. And Luke finally let himself exhale a silent sigh of relief.
He tidied up, gathering the used sheets and towels, then left mother and child alone while he stepped away to call Yolanda to let her know that an ambulance was no longer a priority. She offered hearty congratulations and a smug “I knew you could handle one little baby” then signed off to deal with other matters.
After putting a load of laundry in the washing machine, Luke fed Einstein, then realized that his stomach was growling, too. And if he was hungry, he imagined that Julie was even more so. He put some soup on the stove to heat, then peeked into the family room again.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Exhausted,” she admitted. “And ecstatic. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for everything you’ve done.”
“I’m just glad I was here to help.”
She smiled at that. “And if an ambulance could have got through the storm, you would have shipped me off to the hospital in a heartbeat.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed without hesitation.
“Since