A Winter Wedding. Marguerite Kaye
certainly had no designs on his body, thank God.
She was…nonthreatening. Food for his fantasies, and nothing more.
But the fantasies—those were wild. Sometimes he couldn’t help remembering her scent, or thinking about what her hair would feel like tickling his chest, or other, more earthy things. This wasn’t the sort of pointless activity he normally engaged in—especially regarding a woman who was claimed by another man in so obvious a way. But he seemed helpless to stop the alluring thoughts.
On Monday morning, however, she arrived at his house in an inexplicably hellacious mood. She cursed at the wood, at her tools, at herself for being clumsy. She ordered him out of the room twice, but he managed to wander back in.
He should have gone into the lab, since he was getting nothing accomplished at home. But he’d promised Alicia he would baby-sit Dougy this morning while she went on a job interview, and she was due to arrive any time.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked Susan mildly.
“Just stay out of my way.” Then she dropped her hammer and doubled over in pain.
Chapter Three
No, it couldn’t be, Susan thought as she knelt clutching her abdomen.
“Susan!”
Rand was at her side in an instant. “Don’t stop breathing. That’s it, relax…. Is this what I think it is?”
“It can’t be,” Susan said when she could talk. The pain subsided after a few seconds, almost as if it had never been there. “It’s three weeks early!”
“Okay, don’t panic,” Rand said soothingly. “Does it—three weeks? I thought you said you were—”
“I, um, stretched the truth a little. I figured the less pregnant you thought I was, the better my chances of keeping this job.”
“Oh, hell.” He looked like he wanted to wring her neck, and the only thing preventing him was her physical distress. “So did that feel like a labor pain?”
“How would I know? I’ve never had one before.”
“Does it feel like you imagine labor pains might feel?” he persisted, though he did help her to her feet and lead her over to one of the club chairs. He whipped the plastic off and made her sit down. Then he claimed the other chair and peered at her till she felt compelled to answer.
“It felt like a big hand grabbed me around my middle and squeezed as hard as it could.” And it had scared the bejeezus out of her.
“That sounds like a labor pain, all right.”
“How would you know?” She wasn’t sure why she was being so cross with him. It seemed easier to bear her fear by masking it with anger.
“First, I’m a doctor,” he said, as if explaining something to an idiot. “Delivering babies isn’t my specialty, but I had to do an obstetrics rotation just like every other doctor. And second, my three sisters have five children among them, and I was there when every single one of them went into labor.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Because my sisters—they spend a lot of time here. How many babies have you watched being born?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Feeling better now?” The lines of his face had relaxed slightly.
“Yes. I feel perfectly fine. I think it must have been a fluke. Something I ate.”
“Possibly,” he said, sounding doubtful. “Have you felt anything else strange this morning? Any sensations out of the ordinary?”
She had. Her lower back had been aching, but she’d figured that was perfectly normal, given the punishment she’d put her body through the past few days. She’d also felt kind of a funny pressure, down there, but she didn’t recall any mention of that as a precursor to labor in any of her maternity books, so she hadn’t thought much of it. At any rate, she wasn’t going to discuss that with Rand. It was much too personal, doctor or not.
“I’ve felt fine,” she fibbed. “I’ll just get back to work.” She stood, despite Rand’s troubled frown, and retrieved the hammer she’d dropped. She resumed work and after a couple of minutes managed to convince herself everything was fine, though Rand had not moved from his chair and he continued to study her like she was one of his lab experiments.
Then another pain gripped her, stronger than the first. She nearly fell over from the force of it. But Rand was suddenly there, his hands on her shoulders steadying her.
“Easy, there. Another one?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, just go with it. Don’t fight it. Breathe, relax…”
Her breathing was more like gasping, and she whimpered like a kicked dog, much to her embarrassment. But Rand just kept murmuring gentle encouragements to her. She focused on the soothing sound of his voice, the feel of his big hands on her shoulders, and after a few moments she realized the pain had receded.
“All right now?” he asked, practically dragging her back to the chair she’d just vacated.
She nodded.
“Then let’s get you to the hospital. Which one were you planning to use?”
“None of them,” she admitted. “I was planning to have a home birth, with a midwife. And that’s still what I want.”
RAND JUST STARED AT Susan. It took a few moments for what she’d said to sink in. Home birth? He knew that was an increasingly popular choice, but he’d never personally known anyone who did it.
“It’s a perfectly legitimate alternative to hospital births,” she said, crossing her arms defensively over her stomach. “My midwife is a nurse-practitioner. I’ve been healthy as a horse throughout the whole pregnancy, so I’m a perfect candidate.”
“You’re three weeks early.”
His one statement diminished everything she’d said, and she knew it. He could tell by the way she didn’t meet his gaze.
He grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call your midwife and see what she has to say?” He knew he was taking a chance. But if the woman really was a trained nurse-practitioner, she knew as well as he did the increased risks a premature birth entailed, especially for the baby. He handed Susan the phone.
Home birth? Not in his home she wasn’t.
She made the call, and he busied himself at his desk sharpening his new pencils with the new noiseless pencil sharpener he’d just bought. After a couple of minutes she put down the phone, looking defeated. “Arnette agrees with you. She said she’ll meet me at Savannah City. She participates in a midwife program there.”
Relief washed through Rand. As an M.D., he knew he was somewhat prejudiced, but birth outside of a sterile hospital delivery room sounded almost barbaric to him in this day and age.
“Savannah City has an excellent obstetrics unit,” he said as he helped her out of her chair. “You can do all-natural childbirth, if you want. But they also have an excellent neonatal unit standing by.”
Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you really think something will be wrong with her? What if they have to put her in one of those glass cases with all the tubes and needles—”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said, trying to convince himself as well as her. He didn’t blame Susan for being frightened half out of her wits. He wasn’t exactly calm himself.
Hell, he was a doctor. He wasn’t supposed to be upset by a medical emergency. When any of his sisters had gone into labor, he was always the calm voice of reason. But none of them had been early.
“Where