Cindy's Doctor Charming (6 page)

Nathan took a sip of coffee, then set the cup back on the saucer. “I met her at the hospital fundraiser.”

“But you said she works here.”

“Right.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I didn't recognize her in a different environment.”

“You mean all dressed up.” Annie's look oozed pity. “Bet that didn't go over well.”

“You'd win that bet.” He laughed, remembering their verbal sparring that night and how clueless he'd been. It wouldn't add anything to this story if he shared that the smell of Cindy's perfume gave away her identity. “I asked for her phone number, but she refused to give it up.”

“Ah.” Annie held the coffee cup and her eyes sparkled with amusement that escaped him.

“What does that mean?”

“So many things, so little time.” Turning serious, she said, “You obviously got together in spite of not being able to call her.”

“Because I saw her here, there was no need for the number. I asked her out and we went to dinner.”

There was also no need to share that Cindy had agreed to see him in order to get him to back off. Now he knew that was about the jerk who used her. He wondered if having that information would have cooled his jets, then he figured probably not.

“And you're sure the baby is yours?”

“The condom broke,” he said.

Perplexed, Annie shook her head. “Isn't it amazing? We can build a space station and put people on it, but no one can manufacture glitch-free birth control.”

“Go figure.” He stared at the crumbs on his plate.

“So that's the reason you're hovering.”

He nodded. “I never looked at what we do from the father side of the fence before.”

“I see.”

“That makes one of us. The thing is, I'm a doctor. I know all the things that can happen. I know what can go wrong.” He pointed at her, then himself. “We see babies every day who don't go full term. The chances of survival go down when they're born too early—”

“Don't think that way,” she warned. “There's no reason to assume a healthy woman in her—”

“Twenties,” he supplied.

“Right.” She nodded. “With good prenatal care a normal pregnancy is the probability.”

That didn't seem like enough to ensure a healthy child, he thought. “There must be something more I can do.”

“You're going to hate me for saying this,” she informed him.

“What?” he asked, bracing himself.

“Support Cindy emotionally.”

If he had faith in feelings, Felicia probably would still be alive. Science was what he believed in. He wasn't aware of any scientific study that proved emotional support would guarantee a full-term, healthy child. “You know better than anyone that I don't do emotional.”

“Right. If you can't see or touch something, it doesn't exist.”

They'd argued this point for hours in medical school and finally agreed to disagree. “There must be something else I can do.”

“Other than finding her the best obstetrician in the valley there's only one other thing I can think of.”

He waited, but she didn't say more. “Are you going to share?”

“Make sure she has what she needs to minimize her
anxiety,” Annie suggested. “Don't let her exert herself. The rest of it will just fall into place if you're supportive of her.”

He wasn't so sure. Cindy had been pretty concerned about work, school and the expenses involved in caring for a newborn. “Are you sure that's enough?”

“Positive. Just physically be there.”

Okay. He could do that. He was a doctor, after all.
Physical
was what he did. So, it was settled. While Cindy was pregnant with his child, he would be her shadow.

P
eanut butter and jelly had never tasted this good when she was a kid. Now she was going to have one of her own and Cindy figured that was the reason.

She took the last bite of the sandwich she'd brought to work, savoring the sweet grape jelly mixing with the crunchy, salty softness of the peanut butter. She was sitting in the hospital's serenity garden and savored that, too. It was peaceful, and she could use more peace in her life. Ever since she'd won that pesky raffle ticket, peace had been hard to come by.

She pressed the palm of her hand against her still-flat stomach and tried to really grasp the fact that a baby was in there. A baby fathered by Nathan Steele. Life as she'd known it would never be the same.

She was going to be a mom.

Part of her was starting to get excited at the prospect. The other part wondered how in the world she was going
to do this on her own. Because, despite what Nathan had said to her about helping, she didn't really believe he'd stick around.

And she was pretty sure she didn't want him to.

At least he was honest, not trying to hide the fact that his birth control had failed. He'd only made a small blip on the blame-game meter when he'd hinted that she should be on the pill.

If only…

Because she'd sworn never to be stupid about a man again, alternative precautions and the resulting bloat and water retention had seemed unnecessary. Now she was looking at about eight months of both. Not to mention figuring out how to do it all and pay the bills.

“Hi, there.”

The voice came from behind her. It was deep and familiar and sucked the serenity right out of the garden.

Cindy half-turned just for visual confirmation that thoughts of him just moments ago hadn't conjured him up. The blue scrubs, thick dark hair and serious expression equaled Nathan Steele.

“Hi.” She wadded up the plastic sandwich wrap and squeezed it into her palm.

He sat on the wooden bench beside her and glanced around at the shallow pond with the bridge curving over it. Several benches and chairs were scattered around the area. Three sides of the hospital threw the bushes, flowers and grass into shade.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don't think I've ever been here before.” His response didn't actually answer the question.

“So your showing up while I'm having lunch is purely coincidence?” If so, she was going to have to burn a candle or something to reverse her continuing bad karma.

“Harlow told me this is where I might find you.”

Had he been looking for her? She didn't like the stagger of her heart when she made that wild leap. She couldn't go soft now. It was bad enough that through a horrible twist of fate this man had fathered her baby. One day he'd unjustly yelled at her and the next thing she knew she was pregnant. In between he'd refused to take a negative response regarding her phone number and she hadn't stopped him when he'd kissed her. But kissing him had felt too good and now there were consequences.

Again, it was probably better to confirm. “Why did Harlow tell you where I was?”

“Because I asked,” he said simply.

Damn, there was that little heart skip again. She'd like to blame it on the changes of her body from the pregnancy, but that was probably not the case. How could this happen when she wasn't even sure she liked him?

That thought didn't even come close to stopping the pulse in her neck from throbbing, and her voice was just a little breathless. Darn him anyway. “Why did you ask?”

“How are you feeling?” Again he gave her a non-answer.

“Tired,” she admitted.

“Still nauseous?”

“A little.”

He glanced at the brown bag on the bench between them. “Lunch?”

“Peanut butter and jelly.”

He frowned. “Technically you're not really eating for two, but the embryo will take what it needs from you. Nutrition is really important to its development.”

How clinical of him. A change from the flash of feeling displayed when he'd said this was his baby, too. That had melted her heart a little. Her bad.

“I did some research online. I know that eating right is the best thing for the baby.” She met his gaze. “Protein is important and peanut butter has lots of it.”

“Along with fat,” he pointed out.

“It's a good fat. Better yet, it doesn't make me want to throw up. And it's not expensive.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to make sure this wasn't a soup and crackers week.”

“You mean just before payday.” She refused to be ashamed of her strict budget. It was digging her out of a deep hole. “As it happens, this
is
the lean week.”

“Right.” He met her gaze. “If you run short, I can help you out. Healthy food is usually more expensive, but right now it isn't an area of your budget that you should be downsizing.”

“You're right.” She said that because he
was
right, but it didn't constitute agreement to take anything from him.

“Have you made an appointment yet with an obstetrician?”

“Not just an appointment. I've actually seen the doctor, even though it still feels surreal to me,” she said. She'd called the day after telling him, and Dr. Hamilton's staff managed to fit her in right away.

“Good. Prenatal care is the first line of defense to prevent premature birth,” he calmly pointed out.

“I'm on it,” she promised.

“Glad to hear that.” He looked around the garden again. “It's nice out here.”

“Yeah. Quiet. This is a nice break from work. I've been really busy today.”

He frowned. “You have to be careful. Don't overdo. Take it easy.”

“I'm pregnant, not an invalid.”

The retort was automatic, but for just a moment this
conversation had felt like a fantasy. They could be a couple. He could be a guy sincerely anxious for the woman he cared about who was carrying his child.

Then reality reared its ugly head. She was carrying his child, but they weren't now, nor would they ever be, a couple. The truth was that he didn't care about her any more than she cared about him.

His concern was for this child. His job was saving the lives of babies born too early and that's all this was about. Clinical concern. Still, she could respect that and him. In fact, she respected him very much.

“I'm fine.” She smiled up at him. “It's just nice to be outside in the fresh air. In the shade with the breeze blowing it's still cool enough to come out here.”

“Pretty soon it won't be.”

“I know.” She took the tangerine from her bag and started to peel it. “It's probably a good thing that I won't get too big while it's hot.”

He nodded. “The first trimester will be over before fall. That will be easier on you.”

“Yeah.” That sounded like a concern more personally focused on her. He got points.

“You need to get in a lot of fluids. Water primarily. To flush the amniotic fluid.”

Again clinical. And cute. As they stretched out the topic of weather in Las Vegas she ate the segments of her fruit, grateful to have something to keep her hands busy. She was much more comfortable with him when he was in doctor mode or chastising her for something not her fault. When Nathan was nice and charming, it made her nervous.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist. “I have to get back to work.”

“Me, too.”

They walked back into the hospital and the coolness felt good.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“I have to get my cart, then the NICU is next on my assignment sheet.”

He fell into step beside her as she moved down the first-floor hall on the way to Central Supply. All equipment had to be put away during employee breaks. Besides the liability of leaving cleaning products out in the open, there was the problem of obstruction in the halls and impairing movement of equipment and patients on gurneys.

Environmental Services was located next to Central Supply on the first floor. Cindy opened the door, then turned to Nathan. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

“You're welcome.” He pushed the door wider. “Which cart is yours?”

She pointed it out, then was surprised when he grabbed it for her. “What are you doing?”

“I'll take it upstairs for you.”

“You don't have to do that,” she protested.

“You're going my way. I'll drive.”

There it goes again, she thought when her heart skipped. Three times since he'd shown up in the garden. Could it be she was actually starting to like him?

The glow lasted until they entered the elevator. Two of the nurses from the NICU got in behind them and noticed Nathan helping her. Hostility, like an invisible force field, backed her up against the wall beside Nathan.

“Are you on your way to the unit, doctor?” Barbara Kelly asked. She was a slim blonde, very pretty.

“Yes,” he said, and the nurse pushed the appropriate button on the elevator's control panel.

Cindy felt as if she'd been caught cheating with another woman's husband, and it brought her down to earth
with a thud. Lowly housekeepers didn't mix with medical royalty.

Nathan tested the weight of the cleaning cart and said, “This thing is heavier than it looks.”

Cindy decided not answering would be best because she didn't want to give the nursing staff any personal information. Gossip spread through the hospital faster than the flu and the facts of whatever story was spreading were usually wrong.

“You need to be careful while you're pushing it,” the clueless doctor continued.

Apparently he didn't get her
“silence is golden”
vibe. Fortunately, before he could say more, the elevator stopped at their floor.

The two nurses got off first. One whispered something to the other. Cindy couldn't hear what was said, but she could definitely translate the bitchy looks both of the women lobbed in her direction. The message in the toxic glances said more clearly than words that she had a lot of nerve violating the unwritten hospital social code and consequences would follow quickly and without mercy.

Wrestling the cart off the elevator, Nathan missed the communication.

Before he could go any farther with her cleaning stuff, she put her hand on his arm. “I'll take it from here.”

“We're almost there. That's okay.”

“It's really not. Please, just let me do my job or I'm afraid I won't have one.”

“What are you talking about?” He stared down at her, obviously confused.

Cindy glanced down the hall where the two nurses had disappeared. “By now it's all over the hospital that you were slumming with one of the housekeepers.”

“What? Just because I gave you a hand?”

“And showed concern,” she agreed.

“For that they're going to take me out back and shoot me?”

“Not you. Me,” she clarified.

“You're joking.”

“If only.”

It wasn't pretty, but that didn't make the reality any less true. Bullies grew up but they didn't always lose their pick-on-the-peons mentality.

“The thing is,” she said, “you can do anything and no one will say squat. But I have the audacity of letting you push my cleaning cart and the you-know-what is going to hit the fan.”

“I'll make sure that doesn't happen,” he said grimly.

The fact that he didn't even attempt to convince her she was wrong proved that he understood the hospital's insular social environment, at least on some level.

“If you really want to fix this, just back off.”

“That doesn't work for me.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I'm going to be there for you.”

She put her hands on the cart and met his gaze. “I appreciate that you would want to, but please don't. I'm serious. It could cost me my job.”

She walked away and felt his gaze on her back. Right this minute his attitude might be completely sincere. And that was extraordinarily sweet, but it wouldn't last. She didn't have the best judgment where men were concerned, which meant that he must have a flaw that would surface when she was most vulnerable. With a baby on the way she couldn't afford to jeopardize her employment and medical insurance benefits.

She needed her own space, no matter how much she was tempted to take a chance that he was different from the last jerk.

 

Twenty-four hours later Cindy was sitting in her supervisor's outer office. She'd been summoned and there was little doubt in her mind that it was somehow connected to her being sighted hanging out with Nathan—Dr. Steele— yesterday. There were so many rules, regulations and laws in this work environment, not to mention an anonymous hotline for grievances, that complications and intimidation were fairly easy to pull off.

If it got to be too much, quitting was an option for some. But not for Cindy. The nausea grinding through her wasn't just on account of the nerves about facing her boss.

The door opened and there stood Dina Garrett. She was somewhere in her late thirties or early forties with sun-streaked brown hair framing her pretty face in a stylish bob. A tailored navy-blue suit showed off her slender, petite frame.

“Hi, Cindy. Sorry to keep you waiting. Come on in.”

Cindy stood and followed her, then stopped in front of the desk. “What's up?”

“Have a seat.” Her boss indicated the two empty chairs.

“Thanks.” Cindy tried to look relaxed and composed, but that wasn't easy when it felt like there was a scarlet letter embroidered on her chest.

“So how's everything?” Dina folded her hands, then rested them on the desk.

Cindy considered this woman a friend. They'd socialized occasionally, and she'd had dinner with Dina, her husband Ted and their two daughters. She'd even attended a piano recital for one of the girls. A family picture was prominently displayed on the desk, and she felt a stab of envy at the smiling faces, the close-knit family.