Doctor's Orders Box Set (Babies in the Bargain, Right Name, Wrong Man, No More Lies)

by Risk, Mona

  He did have plenty of love. Was it enough?

  Marc scowled, ashamed of his doubts. Of course, he wanted to raise Carlos’s son. No question about it.

  “Can I leave him with you until I come back?”

  “Of course.” Holly smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry. He’ll be in NICU. In a few weeks, he should be ready to be discharged. And...”

  And Marc’s whole life would change forever.

  Dios, why did it have to happen? The accident, the tragedy, the deaths.

  He gritted his teeth so hard his jaws hurt. Averting his eyes, he focused on the dark stain coloring his now empty cup. Empty and dark like his future. He clasped the Styrofoam cup, crushing it.

  At least he’d have the baby to love and nurture. A precious gift from his brother, and a responsibility he’d have to adjust to. Duty called, and Marc always fulfilled his duty.

  ****

  Holly had never seen so much pain etched on a man’s face. Yet Marc hadn’t shed a single tear. She hadn’t expected a typical reaction from the daring doctor who usually grabbed life with both hands. Still, when he agonized, this hard-as-granite attitude wasn’t helping him heal.

  She sighed, understanding he didn’t want her around and stepped toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  “I don’t know what will happen in the next few weeks.” He settled at his desk then turned toward her. Grim suffering creased thin lines around his tired eyelids, but his dark eyes remained as impenetrable as a stormy night. “Thank you,” he said, a little muscle working in his cheek.

  Holly shrugged as she closed the door behind her. He wouldn’t let her ease his pain or even help him with the formalities. She rushed along the hallway toward the elevator, her head bent in thought. She’d wanted to soothe him with a friendly hug, knowing how lonely she’d felt when no one was around to lend a supportive shoulder.

  Warmth infused her cheeks as she recalled her body pressed against Marc’s hard chest, his musky lemon fragrance, his back muscles rippling under her spread fingers. For a brief moment, she’d forgotten the sadness of the situation and become lost in sensual memories.

  Admit it, woman, you enjoyed every second of your so-called consolation.

  Even in his present state, the man was too handsome, too fascinating, too lethal. She’d once been gullible enough to believe that sizzling kisses and a few nights in Marc’s arms meant something.

  Confusion flickered in her belly. What was it about Marc that made her forget years of practiced composure?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Holly had a promise to fulfill and a special baby to care for. She smiled as she rushed toward the NICU, an unfamiliar satisfaction filling her heart. As she entered, loud shrieks greeted her.

  “Baby Suarez has a fever of 100,” a nurse told Holly while her colleague fussed around another incubator.

  Holly slipped a yellow sterile robe over her scrubs and passed the row of warmer beds where five infants slept. She cleansed her hands with an alcohol-moist pad before touching the preemie’s forehead. He screamed his head off.

  “Draw a blood culture, and we’ll give him antibiotics. It may just be environmental from the incubator though.” Holly scribbled the orders and handed them to the nurse. His little mouth wide open, his face contorted, the motherless baby continued to cry.

  “I’m here, sweetheart.” She picked up Lydia’s baby, touched her lips to his soft temple, and then settled in a rocking chair, her precious bundle in her arms.

  The nurse hung the IV bags while Holly cradled the infant, careful not to disturb the arm board holding the tiny catheter in place. His mouth twitched and another shriek pierced the air.

  “Can you bring me a bottle of formula, please?” she told the nurse as she cuddled the baby. “Sorry, pumpkin. Life is not easy.” Holly sighed. “And yours may be even more difficult than normal,” she mumbled, anxiety needling her heart.

  The nurse handed her the bottle of formula. Holly inserted the nipple in the baby’s mouth and resumed her rocking. “Still, there’ll always be good moments. You’ll see.”

  She felt a fierce need to protect the child Lydia had so desperately wanted after two miscarriages and months of bed rest. Would Marc become the child’s guardian? Would he send him to Puerto Rico later on?

  “You won’t lack love and kisses, my little one. As long as you are here, I’ll make sure you get your fair share,” she whispered as an unfamiliar surge of maternal feeling clutched her heart.

  It would do her no good to become too fond of this baby. Marc’s baby. He opened his eyes, chocolate eyes with that same gaze she couldn’t resist. A Suarez through and through.

  Thank God, Marc was leaving tomorrow for a few weeks. By the time he returned and had recovered from his grief, Holly would have no problem treating him like a typical colleague. She would develop a pleasant, but casual and professional, relationship with him.

  Cradling the baby against her chest, she hummed and gently rubbed his forehead and temples, drawing little circles on his skinny cheeks and tiny chin. The screaming waned and his little face relaxed.

  Strangely, rocking the newborn soothed her too.

  “Is Dr. Collier here?”

  She heard Marc’s baritone and froze as the nurse answered, “In there, Dr. Suarez.”

  The little vein at the left of her forehead pulsed like a hysterical hammer. Marc, a typical colleague?

  Nothing had ever been typical about him.

  An oppressive silence descended as he entered the NICU. He stood in front of her, shrouded in a mask of controlled pain, the usual fire of his eyes dimmed under a deep scowl. And yet, he managed to look more handsome than ever. His mouth frozen in a hard line, he stared at her and the baby.

  Her shoulders tensed.

  “How is he doing? Jaundice?” His voice was as icy as the hand that grazed her skin as he patted the tiny cheek of his nephew. “He’s hot? What are you giving him?”

  Holly stiffened but repressed a frown. “Ampicillin and Gentamicin. And he’s going under bilirubin lights for the jaundice.”

  She set the bottle on a table and studied Marc’s rigid stance. This brand new life was an incredible responsibility for the carefree bachelor who had excelled at slipping out of commitment.

  “Good.” Lost in his thoughts, he rubbed his chin. He took a step, extended a hand toward the baby, then clenched it and turned around to leave.

  Reaching to the side of the bed, she unhooked a patient chart. “When you decide on a name—”

  “Paul Carlos Suarez.” He turned back to his nephew. “It’s the name my brother and Lydia had chosen for him. Paul was Lydia’s father’s name.”

  She nodded and cuddled the little bundle closer to her chest. Baby Paul was a real person now, with a name and a story.

  “Do you want to hold him?” she asked with a smile. Bonding with his nephew should help release the pain he was blocking inside.

  He hesitated, his gaze flickering uncertainly from her to his nephew. His Adam’s apple jumped up and down.

  Holly raised the infant toward him and he bent to take him.

  “Paulito.” He stared at the baby in awe.

  His deep intake of air betrayed his effort to regain his cool. Then he closed his eyes tightly. She lowered her head, allowing him a minute of privacy to control his emotion.

  “I still have many things to do,” he finally said as he handed back the baby.

  She steadied her voice before she spoke. “Listen, don’t worry about Baby Paul. He’ll be fine.”

  “I know, Holly.” His tone softened. “I know you’ll do your best for him.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart warmed by his trust.

  “What would I do without you?” He squeezed her shoulder, sending a surge of heat straight to the pit of her belly, and turned to leave.

  She rubbed her shoulder and arm and fixed his athletic back and corded neck with a befuddled stare as he walked briskly out of the NICU with
out a backward glance.

  What was wrong with her?

  Granted, he was worried and miserable right now. Still, he was the same Marc. The fun-loving, easy-going doctor who’d had no shame dispensing his charismatic charm to any female in need of a morale boost.

  Remember the past.

  How stupid she’d been seven years ago, sitting on her bed and sobbing after he’d left for San Juan without a promise or forever words. He’d written twice but forgotten to return her calls. She’d wasted weeks of precious study time, daydreaming and cursing the nurses she’d seen him kissing good-bye.

  Holly snorted as she rose to lay Paulito in his isolette. There seemed to be a genetic weakness among the women of her family for charming playboys. Her sensible, no-nonsense mother had ruined her life for a handsome hunk years ago, and Holly had almost followed suit. She’d believed winning the love of the bright Dr. Suarez was within her grasp. What a foolish idea.

  She slammed the door shut on her memories.

  Marc had walked out of her life a long time ago. She’d cleansed and stitched her wounds, and numbed her heart for good.

  Now, she’d better concentrate on her board exams.

  Marriage and children were not in her plans. Instead, she had thousands of sick babies to care for and a brilliant career waiting for her.

  ****

  Already 6:00 am. His painful tasks completed, Marc sprawled on the couch in his office. He needed to sink into oblivion.

  Eyes dry, but itching, he stared into the dark. A kaleidoscope of bittersweet memories zoomed through his mind, tormenting his heart. Mama’s noisy brood of six in the cookie-scented kitchen; his sisters’ graduations and weddings; the many births of nephews and nieces; Carlos and Lydia’s exchange of vows on a sandy beach. He heard the laughter, the songs, and the jokes, but the last picture of Carlos and Lydia superseded all others.

  Alone in the privacy of his office, like a wounded animal in his lair, Marc mourned. His fingers clutching his head, he doubled over on the couch and sobbed.

  How long had he sat by himself, buried in his pain?

  A lovely face hovered in his mind, interrupting the memories and his crying. He held onto the soothing image and slowly calmed down.

  Sleep evaded him. Maybe he should go back to work. Be with colleagues, friends, patients. Or better still, with Holly.

  No matter the stern front he’d put a few hours ago, he wanted Holly near him. The sweet Holly he’d held in his arms in the past, the one he’d just rediscovered after the accident. Not the cold, composed fellow who’d kept him at bay for five weeks. Did she resent him for breaking off their budding relationship seven years ago?

  What choice did he have at the time? He couldn’t betray his family and reveal the humiliating truth.

  In San Juan, problems had erupted like a series of malignant tumors he needed to scrape out and cleanse. Gabriella pregnant and desperate enough to seek an abortion; Carlos, ready to fight and avenge his little sister; and worst of all, his alcoholic Papa’s first suicide attempt.

  Poor Abuelita had tried to cope alone, but they had needed him there—the eldest brother and respected doctor. It had been time to pay his debt to the family. He hadn’t hesitated to pack and put his life on hold.

  And leave Holly behind without explanations.

  Stop thinking. Get your ass off the bed and function like an hombre. He wouldn’t drown in alcohol and shatter his spirit as his father had after Mama’s death. To regain control over his emotions, Marc needed to immerse himself in a flurry of activity.

  He called the administrative assistant. “Barbara, my leave of absence will start tomorrow. Tell Dr. Guerlin, I’ll keep my schedule for today.” He saw no reason to accept Chris’s offer to substitute for him.

  “I’m so sorry about your brother and sister-in-law, Dr. Suarez.”

  “Thank you.” Marc’s gut clenched, but he steadied his voice. “Anything going on now?”

  “We have a delivery in OR 2.”

  “I’m on my way.” Marc hung up and rushed to the pre-op room.

  As he walked in, Holly had just finished scrubbing. Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Aren’t you on a leave of absence?”

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Nothing like work to help me cope.” And Holly’s soothing presence. His teeth clenched, he took his turn at the sink and scrubbed, then he followed Holly into the OR and strode to the surgical trolley.

  Halsdale, his arms crossed over his chest, contemplated the sleeping patient while shaking his head. “I thought I’d seen it all in my thirty-year career.”

  A difficult case to concentrate on was exactly what Marc needed. Holly standing at her station added to the normalcy of the situation. He tried winking at her as he always did before starting an anesthesia—a sort of good luck gesture he’d adopted since his first day at WCH. His wink aborted into a scowl.

  Nothing was normal today.

  Carlos and Lydia were gone, their blissful happiness smashed to smithereens forever. Marc’s heart ached as a picture of Carlos lying on the steel table invaded his mind for the hundredth time. He forced himself to erase it.

  Performing his procedure was second nature to him. He swallowed the lump blocking his throat and blessed his lucky stars for being a good doctor, for being able to administer an anesthetic when he was himself in need of it.

  “Full term. First pregnancy. Thirty-five years old.” Halsdale’s announcement snapped Marc out of his brooding.

  “I’ll do a spinal,” Marc said. He was back in business, his thoughts under control and his racing pulse tamed as he slipped a facemask with oxygen over the patient’s mouth and nose. “So what’s unusual about her?” he asked with a cold, professional voice.

  “The squad brought her directly from Great Falls after a hiker climbing the cliffs called 911,” Halsdale said, as he opened his hand to receive a scalpel and cut the incision for the C-section. “The guy said there was a pregnant woman wading in the river. Apparently, she was waving her arms at the sky and chanting. And then she ran out, holding her belly, and rolled on the ground, screaming.”

  Their old boss shook his head. “The woman told the paramedics she wanted a natural childbirth. Literally. She wanted to be in communion with nature while delivering. The squad nurses had to restrain and sedate her. She wouldn’t come with them willingly. By the way, her name is Terry Corry.”

  A few minutes later, Halsdale extracted a nine pounder. “A baby boy. Here, Dr. Collier.”

  Marc studied Holly’s calm gestures as she went through her routine exam. How he loved being in the operating room with her, seeing her angelic face across from him. Just like before the accident. She almost made him forget the horror of last night.

  Holly raised her head toward the obstetrician. “I wish we had more like this one. A healthy baby. Nine pounds and so cute.”

  Marc stared at the way she cuddled the baby against her breasts, as if he were her own. He thought about his nephew. Somehow, he knew in his heart that Holly would take good care of the orphaned preemie until he came back from Puerto Rico. And then... He had to make a decision about Paulito’s care. Fast.

  Halsdale’s voice brought him back to the story. “Terry felt in harmony with nature, which may be fine for a naturalist, but she chose a dangerous area of cliffs and rapids to do it.”

  “Is she nuts?” Marc couldn’t help exclaiming. Lydia had worried herself sick for the child she carried.

  “I’ve been wondering if she was on drugs,” Halsdale said while pulling out the placenta. “I’ve already requested a psychiatric evaluation.”

  “And I’ll request a urine analysis to see if the baby has a trace of drugs in his system.” Holly’s gaze dropped to the baby she cradled. “Although he looks healthy, you just never know.”

  “Child Protective Services may have to get involved to decide if she can keep her child.” Halsdale continued to suture the mother. “To love him is not enough. She needs to care for him the right way. Not her
way. Trust me, with three daughters, and eight grandchildren, I know what I’m talking about. Selfish love is no love.”

  Marc swallowed hard, absorbing the lesson. Could he love his nephew the right way, without selfishness? The way Carlos would have done?

  “I’m finished here,” Halsdale said. “But I want Terry under observation until the psychiatrist arrives. Holly, keep the baby in the nursery and out of her reach.”

  Marc disconnected the tubes and monitor but left the IV line in Terry’s arm. “She’ll sleep another hour at least.” The nurses moved the patient to a gurney and wheeled her to Recovery.

  Holly hadn’t let the baby out of her arms, as if she was trying to shield him from an uncertain future. Marc frowned. His thoughts flew to another baby, his tiny nephew who slept in the NICU without a father and mother to protect him and guard his future.

  Marc couldn’t create a mother or a normal family for his nephew and he was certainly not father material. He scowled at the newborn while pondering his own dilemma.

  The truck that had smashed into his brother’s car and taken two lives had also shattered Marc’s carefree lifestyle forever. He could see his daily schedule mapped in front of him, structured around a baby. No more weekend vacations on the spur of the moment or even incredibly long hours at the hospital to save patients or work on research.

  Halsdale had talked about unselfish love.

  An arrow of remorse pricked Marc’s heart as the word selfish echoed in his ears. He couldn’t take Paulito to be raised in San Juan. It would be like abandoning him and denying Carlos’s wish for his son to be raised in the U.S.

  Unselfish love.

  As he fixed his eyes on Holly and her little charge, Marc silently pledged to adopt his nephew. He sucked in a deep breath, praying things would work out—hoping Holly, his sweet Holly from before, would agree to help him.

  A subtle pain needled his chest. How could he ask her to help after he’d gone out of his way to make her forget him?