Medical Romance June 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall
lines of You don’t need an excuse, which I’m pretty sure you know.
Acutely aware of that wide hand on her back, she had to wonder when she’d gone from being an efficient workaholic uninterested in dating to a woman with sex on her mind in the middle of a hospital. Though she knew the answer, and it was standing right next to her in all its six-foot-plus gorgeous glory.
When they went into the patient’s room, Gabby was in for yet another unexpected sight. The place looked more like a plush hotel room than a hospital room. Even more so than The Hollywood Hills Clinic rooms—and, since she’d always thought they seemed right out of a five-star hotel, that was saying something. This had to be one of those situations Rafael mentioned where they’d brought in furniture for their stay. A portable wall between two rooms had been removed, creating a huge space, and comfortable furniture filled the area. The bed was still a hospital bed, but it had beautiful linens, and the bedspread looked like something from a high-end furnishings magazine.
An exotic-looking woman lay in the bed, which surprised Gabby a little. Since she wasn’t connected to any monitors or IV at this point, Gabby would have expected her to be sitting in one of the deep, upholstered armchairs, but maybe she felt more comfortable lying down. Or maybe, since Rafael had said her husband was worried, everyone thought she should stay in the bed to be safe.
Rafael made introductions, then focused his attention on speaking with the Sheikh, which also surprised Gabby. Normally, getting information and history directly from the patient was important, but since Rafael knew that, it must be part of the typical protocol in this very atypical situation. Maybe this was exactly why he’d wanted her to come, so she could speak directly to the patient without going through her husband first. If she spoke English, that was.
Of course, she couldn’t deny that she hoped Rafael had wanted her along for another reason, too. Then scolded herself for having that sex subject dive back into her mind when she had work to do.
“Hello, Amala, I’m Gabby Cain, a nurse midwife from The Hollywood Hills Clinic. I understand you’re having some pain, and are worried about the baby?”
“Yes.” Thankfully, Amala spoke excellent English, and Gabby smiled in relief. “I keep having pains. Contractions, I think.”
“Have you timed them at all? To see how far apart they are?”
“No. But they happen often.”
“Okay. I’m going to take your pulse and blood pressure to check those—is that all right?” She pressed her fingers to the woman’s delicate wrist. “Tell me about the pain. Where is it, exactly?”
“My belly. Low. And down...there as well.”
The woman seemed uncomfortable even using a euphemism, and Gabby smiled wider to hopefully relax her. “The good news is that your pulse and blood pressure are normal. So, are you feeling any pain in your back? Up high in your belly?”
“No. Not my back. I am not sure about how high. But they go away sometimes if I lie down.”
Sounded like Rafael might be right about this being false labor, but it was too soon to say for sure. She glanced up to see him finishing his conversation with the Sheikh, then he came to join her on the other side of the patient’s bed.
“I’m Dr. Rafael Moreno. It’s my privilege to come see you today. I understand you’re thirty-four weeks pregnant. Can you tell me about your symptoms?”
Amala repeated what she’d told Gabby, and more as he asked additional questions. Finally, he nodded. “Let’s take a look at what baby is doing inside you, using ultrasound. You have it ready, Gabriella?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached to lift the patient’s shirt over her belly, but she stopped him.
“I’d like Gabriella to do it. Please.”
The surprise on his face was gone in a blink, replaced by a calm smile. “Of course. Gabriella is excellent with ultrasound, and I can read them later as well, if you want. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
His gaze lifted from their patient and his eyes met Gabby’s. She absolutely could not control the gleeful little smile quivering on her lips that the tide had turned, and this time the patient trusted her to do the job instead of him.
Gabby slowly ran the wand through the warm jelly she’d squeezed on Amala’s abdomen, and carefully studied the pictures on the monitor. Seeing that everything looked one hundred percent normal, and that baby seemed healthy in every way, Gabby’s knees got a little jelly-like, too, as relief for the woman swept through her. “Baby looks absolutely perfect in there, all snug and happy. I’m going to go over my findings with Dr. Moreno, but I’m confident that the pain you’ve been experiencing is false labor, which can be very hard to distinguish from true labor.”
“Oh, I hope so. I want my baby to be born at home, so this is good news. Thank you so much.”
“So glad to be here to help you.” And she was. Glad, in a strange kind of way, that she knew exactly how this pregnant woman had felt, which made her a better caregiver. A better nurse and midwife. She cleaned off the gel and got the patient’s top back in place. “Let me see what Dr. Moreno thinks, okay?”
She found him sitting at a round table, playing the board game with the kids there, all of them laughing. Struck by how boyish he looked, too, so unlike the arrogant prince or the dashing date, she slowed her steps and just looked at him, her heart feeling all warm and squishy and starstruck.
He glanced up and grinned at her. Unfolding himself from the chair, he came over to her. “False labor?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat and went over the results with him, and for the first time in her professional life a tiny corner of her mind was on something other than her patient and her work. It was on him, and the scent of him, and how close his head was tipped to hers. Afraid everyone in the room could see how she was feeling and what she was thinking, she again went for a joke to cover it all.
“So, Dr. Prince Rafael Moreno, how does it feel to have your patient doubt your skills and send you out of the room, leaving someone else to do the tests?”
“First, she did not doubt my skills. I’m sure she just knew her husband might be jealous because I am so handsome.”
The gold flecks sparkling in his green eyes showed he was teasing, and didn’t believe that for a minute. Probably it had been more about modesty, but Gabby was going to rib him about it anyway.
“Uh-huh. All I can say is it made me pretty happy for you to get a taste of it, considering how mean you were the first day we met.”
“Mean?” All humor left his face as he looked at her searchingly. “You thought I was mean? I’m sorry if that’s how I came across.”
“Okay, mean isn’t the right word.” A man as empathetic as he was didn’t have a mean bone in his body. “Dismissive. Disrespectful.”
“And for that I apologize too. Only a fool would disrespect or dismiss someone like you, and sometimes the fool in me comes out when it shouldn’t.”
“Never mind.” Lord, she’d meant it really as a joke, and now he looked so contrite, ashamed, even, she was sorry she’d even mentioned it. Who would have thought the man was even capable of feeling that way? “I’m teasing you, really. Like you do me sometimes.”
“I know exactly how to make it up to you in about...” he glanced at his watch “...half an hour. Let’s talk to the Sheikh and his wife, hmm?”
Walking beside him, she couldn’t help but glance up at him more than once, wondering what he’d meant about making it up to her, and her toes and a lot of other things started to tingle as she imagined what it could be.
You’re at work, Gabby! she scolded herself. And work was not the place where her mind could be wandering to bad thoughts.
She stood on the opposite