by Sarah Morgan
‘No, Jake.’
‘It isn’t difficult, Miranda. All you have to do is say you love me, too, and I know you do.’
He was so confident, she thought enviously. Not arrogant, just very sure of himself.
‘I care about you,’ she said finally, her voice slow and still slightly husky from sleep. ‘Of course I do. You’ve been an amazing friend to me, Jake.’
If she confessed that she loved him, there was no way he’d take no for an answer.
‘Friend?’ One dark brow lifted as he studied her face. ‘Last night had absolutely nothing to do with friendship, Miranda.’
‘Last night should never have happened. I was tired and emotional. I told you things that I’ve never shared with anyone and I probably shouldn’t have said it to you but…’ She tried to look away from him but he caught her chin in gentle fingers so that she was forced to look at him.
‘Are you saying that I took advantage of you?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m saying that I needed comfort and you—’ She broke off and he sighed.
‘Miranda, last night wasn’t about comfort. Comfort was the box of tissues and the hug I gave you in the kitchen. Comfort was the hot chocolate that you didn’t drink before you went to bed. What we shared last night had nothing whatsoever to do with comfort. It was hot sex and you know it.’
Memories heated her body and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to block it out and return to reality. The reality of her life. ‘For goodness’ sake, Jake—’
‘Stop right there.’ He put his fingers over her mouth. ‘If this is this is the part where you remind me that you’re pregnant, I don’t want to hear it. I haven’t forgotten that fact, angel. I love the fact that you’re pregnant and I’m waiting for you to say that you’ll marry me so that I can spend the next few weeks getting used to the idea of finally being a father. I’m aiming to be that ridiculously perfect dad that you’ve always dreamed about. I’m ready to adopt the baby as my own. I’m ready to love it as my own, if you’ll let me.’
Miranda lay there, staring temptation in the face. She loved him, she knew that without a doubt. She loved him for the man he was. But nothing changed the fact that she was having another man’s child.
And she, better than anyone, understood the implications of that.
‘It would always come between us,’ she whispered, ‘if not now, then later. He or she might be naughty and you’d be fed up.’
His mouth tightened and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. ‘Let’s get one thing straight right now—I’m not your stepfather and I never will be. Neither am I the man who fathered your baby, which I’m actually glad about because he doesn’t sound like much of a human being. I love you, Miranda, and I love the baby, too, because it’s part of you. And that love is unconditional. Family life isn’t always smooth and doesn’t come with guarantees, I know that. And all children are naughty sometimes, that’s what childhood is all about. And I’m sure that sometimes I will get fed up because I’m human just like you, but I’m never going to regret being a father to the baby, I’m not going to bail out, if that’s what worries you, and I’m not going to hit anyone. Unless someone threatens a member of my family, that isn’t my style.’
She knew from the dangerous gleam in his eyes that he was thinking about her landlord and something shifted inside her. He’d defended her.
‘I know it seems simple to you, but I can’t risk it, Jake.’ She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, unable to watch the pain in his eyes. She told herself that she was doing them both a favour. She was saving three people from greater hurt. ‘We should never have done what we did last night because now our relationship is awkward. I’ll move out. I should have found somewhere long ago but it was so comfortable here and…’ And she’d loved being with Jake. She left the words unspoken and rose out of bed, determined to make it to the bathroom before she made a fool of herself.
She seemed to spend her entire life crying at the moment, she reflected as she bolted the door behind her and sank down onto the edge of the bath.
She was doing the right thing, she knew she was.
But if she was doing the right thing, why did it feel so hard?
CHAPTER TEN
OVER the next week or two, the weather grew colder still and Miranda found it impossible to feel anything but tired and miserable.
She thought she’d be relieved to give up work but once she did she found that she missed the friendship of her colleagues on the labour ward. She felt as though she’d made lifetime friends. For the first time in her life she felt as though she was home.
But home was becoming a touchy subject.
She couldn’t carry on living with Jake so she’d been desperately scouring the local paper for flats. She’d found one that would have been all right, but the landlord had said that it wasn’t available until the spring and she couldn’t wait that long. She needed somewhere now.
At this rate she was going to be living with Jake when the baby arrived, she thought as she trawled through the paper once again for possibilities.
Not that he made things awkward. On the contrary, he was extremely kind to her but somehow that just made it worse.
She was drinking coffee and summoning up the energy to go and see a small flat a mile away from Jake’s house when there was a knock on the door.
She opened it to find Christy standing there with a basket in her hand.
‘I’m playing Little Red Riding Hood,’ she said cheerfully, handing Miranda the basket and walking past her into the house. ‘I was baking with my daughter Katy this morning and we thought you might like some. I remember what it was like when I was almost due. I was starving hungry but I couldn’t summon up the energy to cook anything. There’s bread, scones, some cheese from the deli and some chutney we made last summer from the apples in our garden.’
Miranda carried the basket through to the kitchen. ‘That’s really kind of you.’
‘Not that kind.’ Christy shrugged off her coat and dropped it over the chair. ‘I actually had an ulterior motive for coming here. Can I put the kettle on?’
‘Help yourself.’ Miranda put the basket on the table and looked at her warily. ‘What’s your ulterior motive?’
For a moment Christy didn’t answer and her back was towards Miranda so it was impossible to read her face. She filled the kettle and then she turned. ‘I’m worried about Jake.’
‘You’re worried about him?’ Miranda felt a vicious stab of fear. ‘Why? What’s happened?’
Christy frowned. ‘You’ve happened. He’s in love with you and I gather it isn’t reciprocated. He’s thoroughly miserable. Crotchety and short-tempered, thoroughly unlike our easygoing Jake. ‘
Miranda bit her lip. ‘I know he thinks he’s in love with me, but—’
‘If you’re suggesting that Jake doesn’t know his own mind, maybe you don’t understand him as well as you think you do. I could help you out there.’ Christy dipped her hand into the basket and helped herself to one of her own scones. ‘Jake knows exactly what he wants in life and he’s never wrong. He doesn’t change his mind about things. He knew almost from day one that he wanted to be an obstetrician and he was right. It’s the perfect specialty for him. And it’s the same with women. He doesn’t fall in love easily.’
‘He was in love with you.’
‘Yes.’ Christy’s voice was calm as she split the scone with a knife and spread each half with butter. ‘I think he was, for a short while. And that’s one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever been paid because Jake doesn’t fall in love easily so when he does, it’s a really big thing. And he’s in love with you.’
‘Maybe he is.’ Miranda sat down on the nearest chair. ‘But I’m having another man’s baby.’
‘I know about that.’ Christy put half the scone on a plate and pushed it towards her. ‘Eat. Jake’s worried that you’re not eating enough so I said I’d take charge of your calorie intake between now and delivery.’
Miranda smiled. ‘No one has ever fussed over me before the way he does.’
‘No?’ Christy’s eyes were gentle. ‘Then make the most of it. Grab it while you can. He wants the baby, Miranda. He wants the baby as much as he wants you, can’t you believe that?’
‘I believe that he thinks that’s the case.’ Miranda stared at the scone on her plate. ‘But people don’t know how they’re going to react. The baby isn’t his. Nothing can ever change that.’
‘And he doesn’t want to. Jake is the most balanced, levelheaded guy you could ever hope to meet. Have you ever seen him panic?’
‘No. No I haven’t. He’s always Mr Super Cool.’
Christy nodded. ‘He’s a guy who knows who he is and knows what he wants. And he wants you and the baby. Think about it. Think about what you might be turning down.’
‘What if, two years from now, he’s tired of having a lively toddler around the house?’
Christy looked at her for a long moment and then stood up, a sad smile on her face. ‘If you have to ask me that question, you obviously don’t know Jake at all,’ she said softly as she picked up her coat. ‘He’s a good man. A hell of a catch, frankly. You should remember that. Of all the women he’s ever dated, you’re the one he wants. Wow. Be flattered. And now I need to get going because it’s snowing again and Alessandro worries about me when the roads are bad. Don’t get up. You look tired. Eat your scone and I’ll see myself out.’
* * *
Miranda sat in the kitchen, staring out of the window as the snow fell and darkness closed in. Jake had phoned earlier to say that he was going down to A and E to deal with an emergency and he was likely to be very late. And she missed him. Even in such a short time she’d become used to the life they’d led. She’d enjoyed their routine of working together and living together. Now it was just the living and soon it wouldn’t even be that because she intended to move into a new flat in the next two weeks.
Outside the wind whistled around the house and she couldn’t stop thinking about everything that Christy had said about Jake. Phrases kept running through her head.
‘A hell of a catch.’
‘You’re the one he wants.’
And he was the one she wanted, too.
And suddenly she knew that Christy was right. Jake was nothing like her father and nothing like Peter. He was strong and sexy, kind and tough, all at the same time. And she was crazy about him.
And Christy was right—he did know what he wanted out of life.
And he wanted her and the baby, so why was she turning down the chance of happiness when she was madly in love with him? When she knew he’d make a wonderful partner?
A slow warmth spread through her and she smiled. She was going to talk to him. As soon as he came home from work. She was going to tell him that she’d changed her mind. That she wanted him to adopt the baby. That she wanted them to be a family.
Wanting to look her best, she washed and dried her hair, changed into a loose, comfortable dress and made herself a drink.
But there was still no sign of Jake. And she was desperate to talk to him. Suddenly it seemed imperative that he know how she felt.
Feeling jumpy and restless, she stood up and paced around the kitchen and then moved into the living room. She was standing there, staring at the photograph of Jake rolling in the snow with his two nephews, when the first pain hit her.
She gave a cry of shock and clutched at her abdomen, winded by the pain and unable to move. Gradually it eased and she inched her way towards the sofa, trying to talk rationally to herself.
She wasn’t due for another month. These were just more Braxton-Hicks’ contractions, signs that her body was preparing for labour. She’d felt them before, although never with such severity. The pain would fade and then everything would be fine.
It took less than two minutes for her to realise that everything was far from fine. Less than two minutes for another pain to tear through her body, this time so severe that she was unable to breathe or cry out. She dropped to her knees, closed her eyes and forced herself not to panic.
She was fairly sure that she was in labour.
Fairly sure?
If she hadn’t been so frightened, she would have laughed. She was a midwife, for goodness’ sake. And she didn’t even know whether she was in labour.
Phone.
She needed to get to the phone.
Trying to be calm and rational, she waited for the pain to fade and then staggered over to Jake’s phone, only to discover that the line was dead.
Realising that she was going to have to do this on her own, she grabbed some cushions from the sofa and settled herself on the floor to await the next pain.
It would be all right, she told herself, rubbing a hand over her stomach and feeling the tightening against her hand. This time when the pain came she was ready for it and she closed her eyes and breathed the way she’d taught countless pregnant women to breathe in the antenatal classes she’d run.
The pain thundered through her, relentless in its intensity, and she suddenly knew why women were encouraged to have someone with them when they gave birth. You needed someone on the outside. You needed someone who was one step removed from what was happening. You needed love and support—
‘Miranda?’
Her eyes flew open and she saw Jake standing in the doorway. His dark hair was dusted with snow and a long coat emphasised his powerful physique. A rush of cold air blew into the room before he closed the door firmly.
‘Labour…’ she gasped, and then closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her breathing as another pain hit.
‘How far apart?’ He was on his knees beside her, his hands freezing as they slid over her abdomen, feeling the contraction. ‘When did it start?’
She had to wait for the pain to fade before she could speak. ‘Not long ago. And hardly any time apart. I think it’s coming, Jake. I know it’s a month early, but I’m definitely in labour.’
‘You should have called me.’
‘Phone not working.’ She closed her eyes as she felt another pain hit and then swell to almost unbearable levels before fading back again. But this time she wasn’t on her own. This time she felt a strong arm round her shoulders as Jake held her and praised her.
The moment the pain had passed he reached for the phone and then cursed softly and slammed it down again. ‘The line must be dead and I’ve got no signal on my mobile.’
She looked at him with fear in her eyes. ‘Jake…’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders out of his coat. ‘How do you feel about a home birth?’
‘Nervous?’
‘That’s not very flattering.’ He teased her as he stripped off his jumper and pushed up his sleeves. ‘I’m an obstetrician. This is my territory.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ She closed her eyes and shifted her position, ready for the next pain. ‘You deal with complications. This is supposed to be a normal birth. You obstetricians don’t know anything about normal births.’
‘Well, I’m sure I’ll struggle through and if it all seems a bit bewilderingly normal, I’ll just have to turn it round and deliver it as a breech.’
Despite the pain, she managed a laugh. ‘You’re mad, do you know that?’
‘Relax, Miranda. Everything is going to be fine.’ He stroked her hair away from her face with a gentle hand and then switched into consultant mode. ‘Another contraction?’ He took her hand and eased her into a better position, talking to her gently until the wave of pain receded. Then he tried both phones again and shook his head. ‘Nothing. Miranda, I think I’d better examine you. I need to know how many centimetres dilated you are. If this baby is about to arrive, I need to boil kettles and do all the other useless and pointless things they do in the movies.’
It was impossible to panic in the face of his humour and confidence.
‘You can’t examine me, it’s too embarrassing. Oh, Jake…’ She screwed up her face and sobbed w
ith pain. ‘Is it supposed to feel like this? It’s agony.’ Another pain hit and she was hit by a wave of nausea. ‘I feel sick…’
He reached for a decorative ceramic bowl and placed it in front of her. ‘Don’t worry about it, just keep breathing.’ His voice was calm and steady. ‘Miranda, I think you’re in transition.’
He was behaving like a cool professional while all she wanted was for him to hug her and tell her that he loved her. But she’d sent him away, hadn’t she? She’d told him that she didn’t want him in her life.
She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes. ‘I’m scared—’ She broke off as another pain hit her and he waited for it to pass and then gently disengaged himself and stood up.
‘Where are you going?’ There was a distinct note of panic in her voice and he gave her a reassuring smile.
‘For some reason unknown to me, I have a sterile cord clamp in my car so I’m going to fetch that and then I’m going to wash my hands. I think I’m about to deliver a baby.’
She closed her eyes with a groan of denial. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’ Then she gave a gasp. ‘Jake! I want to push. Oh—I can feel the head.’
‘Don’t push until I’ve washed my hands.’ He strode out of the room but was back moments later with an armful of towels and sheets.
‘I can feel the head, Jake.’ She grabbed his hand again, ‘I’m scared.’
‘There’s nothing to be scared about. Miranda, I just need to take a look and see what’s happening.’ His voice was gentle and calm and suddenly she wasn’t embarrassed any more, she was just worried.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
‘It’s far too quick! Don’t let anything happen to the baby. What if the cord is round the neck? What if there’s something wrong with the foetal heart and we don’t even know because I’m not on a monitor?’ The words came out in a rush and she broke off as another pain hit and the desire to push was so intense that she could do nothing except follow the instructions of her body.
‘The head’s coming now, Miranda. Stop pushing. Stop pushing, angel. Pant, that’s right… Good girl. Everything’s fine.’
