A Billionaire and a Baby

by Marie Ferrarella

  And then a curtain fell and she heard and saw nothing. Fear was her only companion and it was about to swallow her up whole.

  Chapter Five

  The acrid odor assaulted her senses, rudely pushing its way into the black abyss and grabbing hold of her. Startled, trying to get away from the smell, Sherry rose to the surface, aware that she was twisting her head from side to side.

  She opened her eyes and moaned a second before the pain came again, twice as strong as before and three times as overwhelming.

  “What happened?” she gasped, coughing.

  Sin-Jin kept the opened ammonia capsule by her nose a moment longer, just in case.

  “You fainted,” he answered matter-of-factly. She’d done more than that. She’d given him one hell of a scare. He wasn’t sure if she’d just fainted or if the situation was actually far more dire. She’d remained unconscious for almost five minutes. “Don’t do that again.”

  With wavering strength she pushed his hand away from her face. “I’ll do…my best…” Her eyes flew open, looking like giant blue cornflowers searching for the sun. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.”

  He tossed aside the capsule. “Another one?”

  “Well…I’m not…praying to you… Don’t you have…anything to…knock me out?”

  “Other than my fist? No.” He tried not to give in to the feeling of helplessness that was hovering over him. It wasn’t an emotion he welcomed. “Hang in there.”

  About to prep her as best he could, Sin-Jin paused, hesitating even as he knew it was foolish. But privacy was such an issue with him that invading another’s, no matter how noble the reason, just didn’t seem right without permission.

  As he picked up the edge of her denim jumper, he looked up at her. “Sorry.”

  The sentiment was genuine. In a haze comprised of pain, disorientation and jagged fear, Sherry was still moved by what she would have termed old-world courtliness in this impersonal world. Sin-Jin Adair wasn’t just some coldhearted bastard who made his living gutting other people’s dreams. There was far more to him than that.

  If only she was in her right mind to make mental note of it.

  She struggled to keep ahead of the pain that insisted on squeezing her within its jaws. Sherry bit her lip to keep the scream back, then nodded. There was a time for modesty, but she’d gone way past that now.

  “Go ahead… Do what you have…to do.”

  Sin-Jin pushed up her jumper and got her ready to deliver her baby. The woman was fully dilated. “My God, you’re crowning.”

  It was a familiar term, but if her soul had depended on it, she couldn’t have said what it meant. “Is that…a good thing?”

  He did his best to sound encouraging. Behind him he could hear Greta pacing back and forth like a worried relative in a maternity waiting room.

  “Means that this should be over with soon.” Though he recalled all the particulars, he’d never actually attended a birth. He capped the uneasiness that tried to push forward. “I see the head.”

  A head. There had to be more, right? It felt like there was a convention going on inside of her and everyone was trying to push their way out the fire exit at the same time.

  “Anything…else?”

  “Not yet.”

  She heard him doing things but had no idea what. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting rid of this pain.

  “I’m…passing…an elephant, there’s…got to be…more.”

  She looked fully ready to go. He glanced up at her face. “Are you ready to push?”

  Push, that meant this would be over soon, right? “Ever since…this started.”

  Sin-Jin took a breath, bracing himself. Hoping nothing was going to go wrong. “Okay, on the count of three.”

  His words echoed in her head. “You’re going…to push with…me?”

  Even out of her head, she was still questioning things. It made him wonder how she’d gotten pregnant in the first place. “No, just take the credit when it’s done.”

  She blinked, trying to focus on him. “A…sense of…humor?”

  He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “I find it helps when things are tense.”

  Tense. That meant dangerous. Was her baby in danger? She tried to swallow, and it felt as if her throat was sticking to itself. “Are they?”

  He heard the mounting panic. The last thing he needed right now was for her to give in to that. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” he assured her again. “My uncle was a doctor.”

  Had she had the energy, she would have asked about his uncle, about the rest of his family now that he’d allowed that to slip out. But her head began to swirl dangerously. It was all she could do to keep from passing out from the pain again. It was all around her now, like a giant steel vise.

  Sin-Jin crossed his fingers that, like everything else she seemed to have done so far, she could get through this part quickly. “Okay, one, two, three—push!”

  Gathering all her strength together, Sherry leaned as far forward as she could and pushed with all of her might. Heat assaulted her and she felt as if she was being pulled in two opposite directions. Panting, she fell back.

  “Is it…out…yet?”

  If only, he thought. “No, not yet.”

  She wanted to cry. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she was going through this and the man whose baby this was, who had broken her heart, wasn’t even going to feel so much as a twinge. He’d moved on to another relationship, leaving her to handle all this by herself. She wanted Drew’s head on a platter.

  “Why…not?”

  Because didn’t seem enough of an answer, although that was what came to mind. “Because it doesn’t go that fast.”

  She struggled to get air into her lungs. “It should. Who…made the…rules? Oh, God—”

  He knew the signs by now. Her body was going rigid. There was no way for her to relax, even though it would be easier on her if she could.

  “Okay, again.” Sin-Jin watched her face intently as he issued the order. “One, two, three—push!” Sherry was already pushing before he reached the third number. He was afraid she was going to rupture something. “You’ve got to pace yourself, Sherry. Push when I tell you to push.”

  She looked at him accusingly, her lashes damp with perspiration. Maybe he’d like to trade places. “God, but…you are…bossy.”

  “I’m right.” His voice left no room for argument. She was stiffening again. It wouldn’t be long now. “All right, one, two—”

  She shook her head, exhausted beyond words. “No, I can’t…I just can’t.”

  This wasn’t a time to bail out. “Yes,” he insisted firmly, “you can.”

  How dare he stand there, issuing orders, telling her what she was capable of? He was on the safe side of this torture rack. “How…many…babies have you…pushed…out?”

  “I didn’t say this was easy, but you can’t stay pregnant forever.”

  She could feel the tears gathering. One trickled down her cheek, skimming the outline of her ear. “Not forever…just a little…longer. I can’t—”

  Abandoning his post at one end, Sin-Jin moved until he was close to her face. He took out his handkerchief and dried the path the tear had taken.

  “Yes,” he told her, his voice gentle, “you can. You’re a damn strong woman, Sherry Campbell. This is going to be in your past soon enough. Now do it for the baby.”

  She bit her lip again, trying to hold everything at bay. She could feel forces beyond her control undulating downward. “One…for the…gipper?”

  He laughed shortly. “Something like that.” With that he returned to where he felt he could do the most good. “Okay, now push!”

  With her last remaining ounce of strength, Sherry scooted her elbows in close to her body, propped herself up, and through clenched teeth almost shrieked out, “Okay.” Screwing her eyes shut tight, she pushed for all she was worth.

  His hands in position between her legs, a sense of amazem
ent skimmed over him as the small being began to emerge. As he shared in the miracle, a sensation like no other materialized within his chest.

  “You’re doing great, Sherry. The head’s coming.” He sucked in his breath as the damp crown met his hands. “It’s out!”

  Just the head? Where was the rest of her baby? “Isn’t…it supposed to…be attached…to something?”

  She was delirious, he thought. That made two of them. “We need shoulders, Sherry.”

  The task before her seemed insurmountable. “Aren’t you…going to…do…anything?”

  Something was wrong. The baby’s color didn’t look right. There was no time to waste. “Push, Sherry, push.” His hand beneath the small head, he looked at her, not wanting to alarm her, wanting her to cooperate. “You’re almost there.”

  At this point all she wanted to do was die in peace. Gulping in air, Sherry shut her eyes tight and concentrated as she gave up the last of herself and pushed. The push ended in a guttural scream.

  With the shoulders now out, he tugged the infant out as gently and quickly as he could. “And we have a winner.”

  “What…what…?”

  Turning the baby over on his palm, Sin-Jin was amazed at how tiny the infant was. He patted the baby’s back, doing his best to expel any amniotic fluid from the child’s nose, mouth and lungs.

  “It’s a boy.”

  What was going on? What was he doing? She strained to hear the sound of a baby crying, mewling, something. But there was nothing. “I don’t hear…”

  The baby had stopped breathing altogether. Quickly Sin-Jin opened the tiny mouth to see if there was anything inside obstructing it. The airway appeared to be clear. But the small chest remained still. Trying to remember everything he’d learned in one year of premed, Sin-Jin placed the baby on his back and gently blew into the tiny mouth before working on the baby’s chest.

  A panic far greater than the one she’d experienced while in labor was beginning to overtake Sherry. Something was very wrong.

  “What is it?” she demanded. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

  Sherry tried to prop herself up on her elbows and found there wasn’t a shred of energy left. She’d used it all giving birth to her baby. The umbilical cord still connected them.

  She could almost feel life ebbing away.

  “Please,” she cried.

  The single word said it all. She was pleading with him to save her baby. As if he wouldn’t if she hadn’t made the entreaty.

  He ignored her question, her very presence. All his energy was now focused on bringing air back into the small life he’d helped to bring into the world. Several times he’d pushed on the small chest and then breathed into the tiny mouth.

  After what seemed liked an eternity, he felt the smallest of heartbeats beneath his fingertips. Elated, drained, only then did Sin-Jin look up at the baby’s mother.

  The look in his eyes terrified her. She shouldn’t have come up here. She should have stayed home, safe. If she hadn’t been so hell-bent on getting this story, her contractions would have overtaken her in her own house, less than five miles away from the hospital. Maybe they wouldn’t have come at all. Maybe it was walking uphill that had done it.

  Irrational thoughts attacked her from all directions. Had she killed her baby?

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “Is he—?”

  Sin-Jin was afraid to take his eyes off the infant, afraid that if he did, even for a moment, the baby would stop breathing again.

  “He’s alive, but he needs to get to a hospital right away.”

  He couldn’t afford to wait.

  Moving quickly, Sin-Jin severed the tie between mother and child with a kitchen knife and clamped the end of the cord with a large metal paper clip he’d thought to sterilize.

  He wrapped the baby in a towel, amazed at how it seemed to dwarf him, and tucked the infant into her arms.

  “I’m going to fly you to Blair Memorial,” he told her. It was the closest hospital he knew of that had a neonatal section. He looked at Sherry. The placenta had been expelled, but he wasn’t sure if she’d stopped bleeding. The best thing for her would be rest, not to be jostled and then flown a hundred and ten miles, but it couldn’t be helped. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he warned her.

  All that mattered was saving her son. “Don’t worry about me.” Emotion and exhaustion mingled in her voice.

  Stooping beside her, Sin-Jin did his best to cover her and slip the parka around her shoulders before he began to pick her up.

  With her free hand, she gripped his arm. “That’s all right,” she told him, “I can walk. Just help me up.”

  There was no question in his mind that if she tried to gain her feet, she’d pass out again. “The hell you can.”

  Without another word he rose holding Sherry in his arms as she held the baby to her.

  The man was going to pull something, she thought. “We’re too heavy for you,” she protested weakly.

  He steadied himself, then began to cross to the door. “I picked you up when you fainted. The baby was inside of you then. It’s just a matter of repositioning.” Shouldering open the door, he spared her a look, his expression reproving. “You have got to be the most argumentative woman I’ve ever encountered.”

  She felt strength draining from her. It was all she could do to keep her arms around her son.

  Live, please live.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Greta began to follow him. He paused only long enough to fix the animal with a look. “You stay here and guard the place better than you have been.”

  The tone of her master’s voice had Greta obediently retreating.

  “Good dog.” Sin-Jin managed to push the door closed with his elbow. Getting a better grip on his cargo, he began walking away from the cabin.

  Every step jostled her, underscoring the pain that was running rampant through her body. Her heart was pounding wildly, and she struggled to keep from passing out again. “Adair?”

  He kept his eyes fixed on his target, the helicopter on the landing pad. He cursed the fact that he hadn’t had the pad built closer to the cabin.

  “What?”

  No words seemed good enough. She went with the simplest and hoped that Adair would understand. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t look at her. “You didn’t leave me much choice.”

  Despite his hectic schedule, he’d always made time for exercising and keeping fit. Even so, the hundred yards to the landing pad felt as if it was ten times that as he walked with the woman and child in his arms.

  When he finally reached the helicopter, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Very carefully he eased Sherry into the passenger seat, then strapped her in. Under perfect conditions he would have had a way to secure the baby, as well. But under perfect conditions he wouldn’t have had to airlift the infant to the hospital in the first place.

  Rounding the front of the helicopter, he got in on the pilot’s side. “Hold on, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he promised.

  As he started the engine up, Sin-Jin radioed in his flight plan, and explained his dilemma as well.

  Sherry tried to listen, but the sound of the propeller drowned out Adair’s voice. Everything was swallowed up by a sea of noise.

  She clutched her baby to her, looking down at him to assure herself that he was still breathing, still alive. It all felt surreal, Sherry thought. The delivery, this emergency flight, the pain she was feeling. Even the tall, dark, grim-looking man beside her—all of it surreal. There were tears in her eyes as she looked down at her son. He looked so small, so helpless.

  She closed her eyes, the tears seeping through her lashes. Please let him live, she prayed. You don’t need another angel, but I do. Please let him stay with me. Please.

  Sherry turned to look at the man piloting the helicopter. In the space of an hour she’d shared an experience with him that had brought her closer to the man than she’d been to almost anyone else.


  Who was he, really, and where did she go to find the answers?

  There was an emergency crew waiting on the roof of Blair Memorial Hospital. Sin-Jin could see them as he approached the tower building. They stood clustered around a gurney and a glass bassinet, waiting for him to land. The instant the helicopter touched down, they rushed forward with the gurney and the bassinet.

  “I thought you’d be a paramedic,” the attending physician said, raising his voice to be heard above the din made by the helicopter blades as they came to a slow halt.

  Remaining in the ’copter, Sin-Jin helped to guide Sherry and her baby out, gently easing them from their seat.

  Sin-Jin shook his head. “Just a civilian. I got them here as fast as I could.” Capable hands laid Sherry on the gurney. He saw the look of concern as her son was taken from her and placed in the bassinet. “The baby’s less than an hour old. He stopped breathing right after he was born.”

  “How long?”

  Sin-Jin got out from his side and rounded to the gurney. He anticipated the question. “A minute, maybe less.”

  The doctor nodded, then signaled his team to retreat into the building. Gurney and bassinet began to move. “Thanks, we’ll take it from here.”

  It was his cue to leave. Sin-Jin had every intention of turning back to his helicopter and just taking off. With any luck he could salvage the rest of his weekend before he had to get back.

  But as he started toward the helicopter, his line of vision crossed Sherry’s. The look in her eyes spoke volumes. He hesitated a split second. Then, as the team hurried back to the roof’s entrance, Sin-Jin found himself following in their wake.

  The moment they were back inside the building, the nurse pushing the bassinet looked at him. “Are you the husband?”

  He laughed dryly. No, thank God. “No, just some guy in the right place at the right time.”

  The elevator arrived. The team with its gurney and bassinet filled the interior almost to capacity. The doctor pushed for the fifth floor. “Lucky for the baby,” he commented.