West Wing to Maternity Wing!

by Scarlet Wilson

  The President’s Baby Doctor

  Famous neonatologist Lincoln Adams is looking after the U.S. president’s newborn daughter when nurse Amy Carson arrives at the hospital, posing as his very pregnant wife! Amy’s had firsthand experience of Linc’s skillful hands and he’s the only person she trusts to look after her precious cargo, but trusting him with her fragile heart is another matter.…

  Amy pointed at the screen as the nurse, Lynn, resumed her checks. “I know him.”

  Lynn’s eyes darted over to the television, taking in the hunk currently filling the screen. Amy bristled. She could almost hear her thoughts.

  Lynn gave a small smile. “Well, you’re a lucky lady, then. I imagine he’s one of the best neonatologists in the world if he’s looking after the president’s baby.”

  “He is. I tried to get hold of him yesterday, but he didn’t answer the text I sent him. I guess he was busy.” The message I need your help had been direct and to the point without revealing anything. Her voice was quiet, thoughtful. Her hands rubbed her stomach. “How is it?” she asked as Lynn unwound the blood pressure cuff. She knew the answer before Lynn spoke, but her head was currently in another place. There was only one person in the world she trusted right now to take care of her baby. “I can’t let anything happen to this baby,” she whispered. “He’s my only chance.”

  Lynn wrapped her hand around Amy’s. “I know that.” She hesitated, glancing toward the television. “Maybe it’s time to ask a friend for help?” Lynn’s eyes fixed on the television screen. “If I knew my baby was going to come early I’d want the finest neonatologist in the world to be at the delivery.” Her voice was firm and strong. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Her phone beeped and she reached into her pocket. It was a reply from Linc. Two words. Anything. Anytime.

  Their eyes met. Amy bit her lip and took a deep breath, the shine of unshed tears visible in her eyes. “Exactly how far away is Pelican Cove?”

  Dear Reader,

  This is my second story in the fictional setting of Pelican Cove and based around the White House Medical Staff.

  Picking a setting for a story is always difficult. When I started to write these stories I could see Pelican Cove very clearly in my head. A small town, sort of based on Murder, She Wrote’s Cabot Cove, but set on the California coast. I also found a picture of a beautiful studio flat in San Francisco and used that as the setting for Lincoln’s apartment. I almost wish I stayed there myself!

  Part of this story is about a young woman who has had breast cancer. I took this part of the book very seriously and spoke to a number of women who have beaten this disease. I hope I’ve captured realistically everything that they told me. The most poignant part for me is the scene in front of the mirror with Amy and Lincoln. I just hope I’ve done it justice.

  I love to hear from readers, so please come and visit me at www.scarlet-wilson.com.

  Many thanks,

  Scarlet

  WEST WING TO MATERNITY WING!

  Scarlet Wilson

  This book is dedicated to my aunt—

  Margaret Wilson. Not everyone is as lucky as I am, to have such a fabulous auntie. One who offers unfailing support to her three nieces and many great-nieces and great-nephews. And brings us wonderful holiday stories of “exploding” strawberries and cream!

  And for my editor Sally Williamson, thank you for bringing me into the Harlequin family and looking after me so well. It’s been a pleasure working with you.

  And for women the world over who’ve suffered from breast cancer. This one is for you.

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BPA

  PROLOGUE

  LINCOLN ADAMS stuck his fingers into the collar around his neck and pulled—hard. The collar was at least an inch too small for him. It didn’t matter that the whole ensemble was Italian made from the finest materials. The suit trousers were an inch too short and the waist was an uncomfortably snug fit. He kept his arms firmly by his sides, his hands clenched in his lap, because if he leaned forward onto the table in front of him, the jacket would stretch across his back, restricting his movements. It was bad enough having to borrow someone else’s clothes, but when they were a size too small… The sooner he was out of here the better.

  The White House press secretary swept across the room in a flurry of eye-catching blue silk with a tailored black jacket on top. Every pore of her skin emanated professionalism and efficiency, and she knew how to work a crowd. This was all her fault.

  He gave a forced smile at David Fairgreaves, who sat down next to him. The old man didn’t look in the least fazed by the pandemonium surrounding him. In fact, he looked as if he might actually be enjoying it. Was he mad? Then again, for an international-award-winning doctor, this would be all in a day’s work.

  Diane Green stood behind the podium next to him. Almost instantaneously the cameras started snapping around them and the noise level increased frenetically. She raised her hand and the press pack heeded. She had the information they’d all been waiting for.

  ‘Thank you for joining us here today at Pelican Cove for our happy announcement. You will all be aware that President Taylor and his wife, Jennifer, were expecting their first baby on seventeenth October. However, today, on the twenty-third of August, Charles and Jennifer Taylor are delighted to announce the arrival of…’ she paused for effect ‘…the First Daughter, Esther Rose Taylor, weighing four pounds ten ounces.’

  The room around her erupted, questions being shouted from every angle. ‘Isn’t the baby too early?’

  ‘What was the First Lady doing in Pelican Cove?’

  ‘Where is her own obstetrician, Dr Blair?’

  ‘Was the President here?’

  ‘Where did the name come from?’

  But Diane Green was the epitome of calm. Continuing with her carefully prepared statement, she lifted her hand again until the room was silent. ‘Esther Rose Taylor was born at thirty-two weeks gestation. The First Lady had been ordered to rest in the last few weeks of her pregnancy and had come to Pelican Cove to do exactly that. She was accompanied by her obstetrician, Dr Blair, who unfortunately had a myocardial infarction in the last few days. As a result of that the First Lady was looked after by…’ Diane Green gestured towards the seats to her right ‘…Dr David Fairgreaves, one of the foremost leading obstetricians in America, and Dr Lincoln Adams, one of our finest neonatologists.’ She gave a little nod towards the reporters. ‘I am pleased to report that the President was here for the arrival of his daughter and she is named after Jennifer Taylor’s beloved and much-missed grandmother. Any questions regarding the health of the First Lady and the First Daughter—’ a genuine smile swept across Diane Green’s lips, as if she was still to get used to saying that ‘—can be answered by our two highly qualified doctors here.’

  Once again the room erupted and Lincoln Adams took a deep breath as this time the barrage of questions was directed at him. Let me out of here!

&nbs
p; * * *

  Amy Carson sat on the cold, clinical hospital bed, usually occupied by a patient, her hands fixed firmly on her swollen stomach. The plaster was falling off the ceiling above her and the wall hadn’t seen a coat of paint in— How long? What did the patients who usually ended up in this room think? The role reversal of staff member to potential patient wasn’t lost on her. Everything about this place was bland. Did she really want to end up delivering her baby in a place like this?

  She gulped. How had she ended up here? The door opened and the nurse appeared again, wheeling the trolley that held the foetal monitor and sphygmomanometer. Amy felt herself tense. She knew it was going to be the same again—borderline.

  She loved her colleagues here, but none of them had the specialist skills and expertise that this baby would need. More than that—nowhere in the surrounding area had facilities to deal with a premature baby. Everything about this made her uncomfortable. If only Lincoln would answer his phone…

  Movement on the television in the corner of the room caught her eye. She leaned forward. ‘Can you turn that up, please, Lynn?’

  Her colleague nodded and automatically twisted the knob on the antiquated television set. ‘Delighted to announce the arrival of…’

  Amy listened to the announcement. Another baby born too early. But probably the most famous baby in the world. A baby that would have the most prestigious, experienced medical care that money could buy.

  No! Surely not? Amy’s chin dropped to her chest. Lincoln Adams. Her Lincoln Adams was shifting uncomfortably on the screen in front of her. He tugged at his shirt and answered question after question about the baby’s condition. His voice was rich, smooth. If she couldn’t see his image on the television in front of her, she’d imagine he was the calmest man in the world. But he wasn’t. And she could tell he hated every moment of this.

  Delivering the President’s baby. Wow. So that’s where he’d been.

  Her heart constricted in her chest. Six years and he still had the same effect on her—even in her current state. She watched as he took a question from a blonde journalist, dazzling her with his twinkling blue eyes and easy smile. He was still a flirt. It was so ingrained in him that he didn’t even realise he was doing it. One smile from Linc and the journalist, covering the biggest story of her life, was a babbling mess.

  She pointed at the screen as the nurse, Lynn, resumed her checks. ‘I know him.’

  Lynn’s eyes darted over to the screen, taking in the hunk currently filling the screen. Amy bristled. She could almost hear her thoughts.

  Lynn gave a small smile. ‘Well, you’re a lucky lady, then. I imagine he’s one of the best neonatologists in the world if he’s looking after the President’s baby.’

  ‘He is. I tried to get hold of him yesterday but he didn’t answer the text I sent him. I guess he was busy.’ The message “I need your help” had been direct and to the point without revealing anything. Her voice was quiet, thoughtful. Her hands rubbing up and down her stomach. ‘How is it?’ she asked as Lynn unwound the blood-pressure cuff. She knew the answer before Lynn spoke but her head was currently in another place. There was only one person in the world she trusted right now to take care of her baby.

  Lynn frowned. ‘Actually, it’s a little higher. I’m sorry, Amy, but as a fellow professional I’m not going to beat around the bush. With your other symptoms, it’s definitely looking like borderline pre-eclampsia. The good thing is we’ve caught it early. It’s time to see your obstetrician. And from one colleague to another, I definitely think it’s time to stop work.’

  Amy nodded her head, tears prickling at the sides of her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘I can’t let anything happen to this baby,’ she whispered. ‘He’s my only chance.’

  Lynn wrapped her hand around Amy’s. ‘I know that.’ She hesitated, glancing towards the television. ‘Maybe it’s time to ask a friend for help?’ Lynn’s eyes fixed on the television screen. ‘If I knew my baby was going to come early I’d want the finest neonatologist in the world to be at the delivery.’ Her voice was firm and strong. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  Her phone beeped and she reached into her pocket. Two words. Anything. Any time.

  Their eyes met. Amy bit her lip and took a deep breath, the shine of unshed tears visible in her eyes. ‘Exactly how far away is Pelican Cove?’

  CHAPTER ONE

  LINCOLN burst through the doors to the adjoining office and wrenched the scarlet tie from his throat. The force popped the button on his shirt and sent it flying across the floor.

  David Fairgreaves strolled in behind him and lifted one grey eyebrow. He took off his suit jacket, hanging it on the chair behind him. ‘Problem, Lincoln?’ He looked vaguely amused, another irritation to add to Lincoln’s list.

  Lincoln stalked over to a nearby shelf and pulled down a pair of green scrubs—he wasn’t wearing this damn too-tight suit a second longer.

  Washington’s finest shirt lay in a crumpled heap at his feet as he pulled the scrub top over his head and turned to face David. ‘How can they ask questions like that?’

  David gave a little shrug of his shoulders, picked up an apple from the nearby table and crunched into it, putting his feet up on the desk. ‘They’re animals.’

  Lincoln shook his head. ‘How can you stand it? How can you sit there and smile at those idiots?’

  ‘You’ve got to give it some perspective. I’ve just looked after the First Lady. It’s news that they’ll report all around the world. And they’ll all be looking for their own spin—their own edge to make them stand out from the pack. Truth be known—I really don’t care what any of them think. The only thing I care about is my patient.’

  Lincoln stared at him. David was the only reason he’d come here in the first place. The chance to work with the man who’d been the first to retrieve stem cells was too good an opportunity to miss. The irony of it was—he looked like a bumbling old fool but was probably the most forward-thinking clinician Lincoln had ever met.

  David caught him with his sharp gaze. ‘What’s with you anyway? You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all afternoon.’

  Linc sighed. The man missed nothing. ‘I got a strange text message last night from someone I haven’t seen in years—at least, I think that’s who it was from. I’ve texted back but I can’t seem to get a signal right now, so I don’t know if she’s replied.’ He held his cellphone up near the window and turned in various directions. Still no signal.

  David gave him a knowing look. ‘I take it this was a female someone?’

  Linc nodded and smiled. ‘Let’s just say it was an unexpected blast from the past.’

  ‘A good one?’

  ‘She certainly wasn’t that easy to forget so I hope so. But with everything that’s happened in the last two days I’ve just not had a minute.’ He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. ‘I can’t remember the last time I actually slept.’

  David nodded. ‘Having the head of White House Security turn up at your door at three in the morning and tell you to pack up to deliver the President’s baby would flatten most men.’ He frowned. ‘Your text. Was it from a real friend? Or a fair-weather friend? I’ve experienced lots of those—people who the minute you appear in the media have apparently been your “best friend” or “closest colleague” for years—even though they don’t know when your birthday is or what car you drive. Fame does funny things to folks—you need to be careful, Lincoln. This is a whole new ball game for you.’

  Lincoln looked thoughtful. He gestured towards the door. ‘Well, that was my first official television appearance, so she can’t have known anything about it. She sounded—I don’t know—in trouble.’

  ‘Just what every man loves—a damsel in distress.’ David flashed him a smile. ‘Come on, Lincoln, let’s go and look
after our girls.’ He tossed his apple core into a trash can on the other side of the room.

  ‘I told you to stop calling me that. It’s Linc. My friends call me Linc.’

  David looked aghast. ‘Linc? Certainly not. You, my friend, are named after the finest President we’ve ever had and you should wear that name with pride.’ He put his hand on the doorhandle as a frown puckered his forehead. ‘Just don’t tell Charlie Taylor I said that.’

  Lincoln laughed. ‘I may well use that as blackmail material.’

  * * *

  Amy glanced at her watch as the cab seemed to meander up the coastal road. The traffic was almost at a standstill and she watched as only a few vehicles got through the cordon in front of them. The rest were directed to turn and head back down the hill. Her stomach churned. This had to be the worst idea she’d ever had.

  A uniformed officer approached the cab and rapped sharply on the window. He glanced in the back seat towards Amy. ‘Where are you headed?’

  The taxi driver gestured behind him. ‘Got a pregnant lady to drop at the hospital.’

  The cop gave a little start. He looked like a man who had heard every line in the book today but he leaned forward a little to get a better look. He obviously hadn’t heard this one yet. ‘Can you step out the car please, ma’am?’

  Amy fumbled for the doorhandle and stepped out into the warm sea air. She pulled some money from her purse and handed it to the driver. ‘Thanks very much.’

  The cop ran his eyes up and down the length of her body. It was almost as if he was checking she actually was pregnant. Her white tunic and expanding trousers flapped in the wind, exposing every part of her body, including the currently out-turned umbilicus. She pressed her hands self-consciously over her stomach.

  ‘Your name, ma’am?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You have to give me your name—and the name of the doctor you have an appointment to see.’