Cindy's Doctor Charming (8 page)

“I take pride in staying friends with the women I've taken out,” he said.

Cindy blinked at him. “Don't tell me. The serial dater rumors are true.”

“I object to the ‘serial' label.” He rested his forearms on the table. “I go out. In fact, I went out with one of those nurses for a while. We're still friends.”

Cindy glanced over her shoulder and tensed before meeting his gaze again. “Don't tell me. You dated the one glaring a hole through my back.”

“I don't see anyone scowling in your direction. Barbara Kelly and I went out a few times. No big deal.”

“For you,” she said pointedly. “But this is going to be trouble for me. And it's not like I don't have enough on my plate already.”

“You're being overly dramatic.”

She shook her head. “Must be nice to live in fantasy land.”

On the contrary. He was a realist. The reality was that the child she carried was his responsibility and he would take care of it. And her.

Whether she wanted him to or not.

 

The day after dinner with Nathan, Cindy dreaded her work assignment in the NICU. Facing the two nurses after being caught “red-handed” with a doctor wasn't something that would make for a relaxed atmosphere. There were no written rules, nothing in the employee handbook, but that didn't make it any less true. Anyone who crossed the line did so at her own peril.

There was only one thing she could do. Her job. And she did it to the best of her ability, ignoring the hostile looks from Barbara, who watched like a prison guard from her nurse's station fortress in the center of the large room. The unit was full of tiny babies, but all was normal and quiet. Nathan was nowhere in sight.

A small thread of disappointment told her she'd started to look forward to seeing him, which was a much-needed wake-up call. Her pregnancy was the only reason he acknowledged her at all. He'd all but confessed to being a serial dater. And to losing his wife, which could explain why he
was
a serial dater. Heartbreak could make a guy unwilling to commit.

But understanding didn't change the facts. By definition, seeing a lot of women meant that he had a short attention span and sooner or later he would disappear.

One thing about having lots to think about was how fast she got her work finished. She glanced around to make sure everything was taken care of and all her paraphernalia was picked up. That was when she caught Barbara's toxic look with the three Ds—disapproval, disdain and distaste.

“Ignore it,” she muttered, turning away. “Be Switzerland.”

The resentment would blow over when Nathan reverted to typical male behavior and showed more interest in a ventilator than her. Until then, she'd do her job and keep a low profile.

She walked out into the hall and replaced her supplies on the cart before unsnapping her “bunny suit.” Just as she was stepping out of it, the NICU door opened and Barbara walked out.

Cindy's stomach knotted because her luck wasn't good enough for this to be a coincidence. She turned away and set the disposable suit on the handle of her cart, then picked up her clipboard and pretended to study her next assignment.

“I want to talk to you.” The nurse's voice vibrated with antagonism.

Cindy took a deep breath and faced the woman, faking a calm she didn't feel. “Is there something you needed?”

“I need for you to concentrate on your job instead of your social life.”

She'd always thought the nurse was beautiful. Not anymore. The woman's mouth pulled tight, making her chin, cheeks and nose sharper, more Wicked Witch of the West. The coldness rolling off her made Cindy wish for wool socks and a parka. But a confrontation required at least two, and she was determined not to take the bait. That meant bottling up a whole lot of outrage and indignation.

“I'm sorry. I thought I was thorough in the unit. Did I miss something?”

“Yeah.” Barbara folded her arms over her chest. “You missed the part where you keep your nose out of other people's business.”

Cindy knew that “business” meant Nathan Steele. She decided to play as dumb as this woman desperately wanted her to be. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Oh, please. Since when does a neonatologist push a housekeeping cart?” she asked sarcastically. “And take you to dinner. Isn't he a little out of your league?”

The knots in Cindy's stomach tightened, then cramps started in her lower abdomen. She resisted giving in to it. Show no weakness.

“Dr. Steele and I are nothing more than friends.” And parents-to-be, she thought. But that “business” she was keeping to herself for as long as possible.

“Right. And next you'll be trying to sell me beachfront property in Arizona.”

Cindy shrugged. “Ask him if you don't believe me.”

Anger flared hot in the other woman's eyes because they both knew she couldn't and wouldn't do that. Barbara jabbed her index finger in the air. “Look, just because you won a seat at the big table, don't go shining up your glass slippers for a walk down the aisle with Nathan Steele.”

Cindy wanted so badly to ask if this was junior high and Barbara had dibs on him, but that would just prolong this awful scene and the pain in her stomach was getting worse.

“I've heard he goes through women at the speed of light. It's really nice of you to warn me.”

Barbara's fingers curled into her palms and the frustration seemed to roll off her in waves before she turned without another word and went back into the unit. Chalk one up for the peon, Cindy thought.

But the brief feeling of triumph was cut short by a cramping pain that had her sucking in air before leaning against the wall. She took deep breaths and waited for it to pass. The discomfort eased but didn't disappear and she very much needed to sit down.

She made sure her cart was flush against the wall and not impeding the flow of traffic in the hall. Slowly she walked around the corner to the empty NICU waiting room and tentatively lowered herself into a chair, folding her arms protectively over her abdomen.

She'd never felt more alone or scared, not even after losing her father. Something wasn't right, but she didn't know what to do. Finally she took out her cell phone and called her supervisor. A few minutes later, Dina hurried around the corner.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“This is Mercy Medical Center. I figured by the time you got here you'd already know,” Cindy answered, trying to joke her way into being brave.

Dina sat down beside her. “Did something happen?”

“Before or after Barbara Kelly got on my case?”

The other woman angrily shook her head. “She's not happy unless she's complaining about something. Or someone.”

“Then she must be ecstatic right now.” Cindy winced.

Concern went up a notch in Dina's eyes. “Tell me what's going on. You're white as a sheet.”

“I think—” Cindy's voice caught and she bit her lip. “I have cramps. I'm just sitting here until they go away. I thought you should know in case someone says something about it.”

“How long?”

“Just until the pain stops.”

“No.” Dina shook her head impatiently. “When did the pains start?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“It could be nothing,” Dina said. “And probably is. But that's a chance you don't want to take. You need to call your doctor.”

“I will,” she said, nodding. “But it's getting better. When my shift is over, I'll—”

“Don't worry about that.” Dina waved a hand dismissively. “You need to find out right away whether or not there's something to be concerned about. We're talking about your child's welfare.”

Her child.

Her baby.

Cindy rested her hand on her stomach. There was a life in there. A life that could be in jeopardy. Fear rolled through her and cleared away the doubts.

In that instant, what had been a surreal, intangible, complicated problem became crystal clear.

There was nothing more important than her child. There was nothing she wanted more than this baby.

Nothing.

She would do whatever was necessary and everything in her power to protect it.

N
athan rang Cindy's doorbell for the third time. He knew she was in there; her car was in the driveway. If she didn't answer in the next thirty seconds, he would break in.

Finally the door opened and she stood there in shorts and an oversize T-shirt. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“This showing up unannounced is getting to be a bad habit,” she said, not actually answering the question.

“So is not calling me.”

“Why are you here?”

“Dina Garrett told me you left work early. And why.” He'd broken speeding laws getting over here after hearing.

“You went to my supervisor?”

“Because I couldn't find you and no one had seen you. It wasn't time for your shift to be over and you're not the
irresponsible type. I figured your immediate boss would know what was going on.”

“Oh.”

Yeah. The woman had looked at him as if he were an ax murderer. Dina was very protective. Apparently Cindy inspired that feeling in someone besides him.

“So… Did you see the doctor?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded without embellishing.

“And?” he prompted.

“I was cramping. She was concerned. I'm on bed rest for a few weeks.”

That meant the pregnancy was still viable and the baby was okay. Relief washed through him, followed by anger.

“Why didn't you call me?” he demanded. “I'm a doctor.”

“Not mine,” she countered.

“I have every right to know what's going on.” He would have driven her to the office. Been there to support her. But she kept shutting him out and that pissed him off.

“If there had been anything to tell you, I would have. Now, if you don't mind, I'm supposed to stay off my feet. And not worry about anything—” Her voice caught and she put a hand over her mouth.

Nathan swore under his breath as he lifted her into his arms and shouldered the door closed.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Getting you off your feet.” He looked around the room. There was a small sofa, a wooden rocking chair and not much else. “I'm taking you to bed.”

“Put me down.” There was an edge to her voice.

“I didn't mean that.” Not really. Not now that the pregnancy had turned risky. But before this, the thought had
crossed his mind more than once. “That didn't come out right. I'm going to put you in bed.”

“The love seat is fine.”

He glanced at it, a green overstuffed little sofa with tiny yellow and coral flowers. The first time he'd been here, having Cindy had been his only focus. Then he found out the condom broke and other details about the room disappeared. Now he took it all in.

The floor was wood, a medium-tone pine. A stand in the corner of the room held a small old TV. By the front door was a tiny mahogany occasional table with a mirror above it, right next to where he'd backed her against the wall and taken her. A bed would have been nice, but he couldn't wait. And he couldn't regret the most mind-blowing sex ever. Now there was going to be a baby. His responsibility was to take care of the mother in his arms.

That was why he was here. Because of the child.

In front of the love seat there was a cedar chest with a coaster and a glass of water. Five wadded-up tissues were scattered over the scratched and scarred top of the wood. She
had
been crying.

He walked over to the love seat and gently set her down. Now he felt the need to do more. To fix something. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Did you eat lunch?”

“A little.”

That didn't sound good. “I'll fix you something.”

“I haven't been to the grocery store.” Her eyes filled with tears again.

Nathan moved the glass out of the way, handed her a tissue, then sat on the cedar chest across from her. “Talk to me, Cindy.”

She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “I'd just finished my assignment in the NICU and started cramping.”

He knew from Dina that there'd been a confrontation with one of the NICU nurses just before Cindy doubled over. That made him want to put his fist through the wall. She had tried to tell him, but he'd blown her off.

“Go on.”

“The pains wouldn't go away and I got scared and called the doctor. She did a thorough exam and said everything looks okay. That probably extreme tension caused the episode. Then she said to be on the safe side I should stay off my feet for a few weeks. Then we'll reevaluate after the pregnancy stabilizes.”

He nodded. All good advice. Err on the side of caution. Every doctor takes an oath and vows to “first do no harm.”

“Then rest is what you should do.”

“In a perfect world,” she cried.

“You're not seriously thinking about ignoring her advice.”

“No, but—”

“What?” he demanded.

“The Family Medical Leave Act will preserve my job, but if I don't work, I don't get paid. Without money I can't pay my bills. I'm terrified for the baby, but what am I going to do?”

“First, you're going to calm down,” he said, concerned that she was working herself up. “Then you're going to let me help you.”

“I can't let you do that.”

“I can afford it.” Chump change for him.

“This isn't your problem. It's mine,” she protested.

“You didn't get pregnant by yourself. I want to do something.”

“I'll figure it out. But I appreciate the offer. Really.” She reached over and touched his hand.

His skin burned where her fingers squeezed, and the contact threatened to fry his concentration. He shook his head and struggled to focus. She needed his help. Because not working would give her lots of time to stress over everything she couldn't pay. But if he'd learned anything since getting to know her it was that stubborn was her middle name. Picking a fight over how he could help wouldn't be following her doctor's orders. So he had a better idea.

“You'll move in with me,” he said. “The pantry, fridge and freezer are full. You can eat pickles and ice cream to your heart's content. I'm in and out, but I can monitor your condition—”

“No.”

Nathan waited for more and when she didn't elaborate, he tried to figure out what was going through her mind. “I have lots of room.”

“It's not about that.” She folded her hands in her lap.

“Then what's wrong with the plan?”

“So many things, so little time.” Her answer was no answer at all.

Nathan stared at her—the big, beautiful eyes looked bruised and battered. Her full mouth with its defined upper lip trembled. The escalating need to pull her into his arms made him increasingly uncomfortable. But it wasn't just because he wanted to comfort her. The truth was that if she wasn't on doctor-ordered bed rest, he might have carried her to bed and made love to her properly.

Her spirit and courage in the face of adversity were admirable and he should be grateful that she was giving him an out. Every instinct he had urged him to take it and run like hell, but he wouldn't turn his back on his kid, like
his parents had with him. He was determined to be there and make the environment safe for his child.

To do that, he had to first of all not argue with the woman carrying that child. She'd drawn a line in the sand, so he had to find a way around it.

“Okay. We'll stay here then.”

Some of the bruising left her eyes when suspicion replaced it. “We?”

“You won't come to my house and I'm not leaving you alone. That means I'm not leaving.”

“You can't do that.”

“Why?”

“I didn't invite you,” she said.

“With all due respect,” he answered, “how are you planning to stop me?”

“Logistics for one thing.” She folded her arms over her chest. “There's nowhere for you to sleep. Certainly not in my room.”

“Never crossed my mind,” he lied.

“And the other two bedrooms are set up for an office and storage.”

He shrugged. “Don't worry about me. I'm a big boy. Been taking care of myself for a long time.”

“Nathan, no—”

He shushed her with a finger to her lips, and the touch seemed to shock her into silence. “You're not supposed to worry. So, forgive my bluntness, but shut up and relax.”

 

Three days later Cindy wasn't exactly relaxed, but that was less about pregnancy and more about Nathan invading her space. It was early in the morning and she was still in bed, putting off getting up because she knew he was still there. Nathan had spent every moment he wasn't at the hospital in her house. Every morning since he'd refused
to go away she'd walked out of her bedroom and peeked into the living room expecting him to be gone. And every day he wasn't.

Yet she knew he couldn't keep this up. He was a guy. Sooner or later he'd get bored with her as his latest charity case and bail. She wished he would get it over with—before she got used to him. Before it would hurt like crazy when she found out she'd been right, before she was alone again and less prepared to be that way.

Maybe she was borrowing trouble. Maybe today was the day he'd be gone. Today would be okay because she was ready for it, expecting him to disappear.

She threw the sheet off and slid out of the queen-size bed. After stopping in the bathroom, she tiptoed down the hall and through the kitchen. Peeking around the corner, she first saw his feet, then the rest of him dressed only in boxers. There was a sheet on the couch and he was still asleep, but probably that was from complete exhaustion. The sofa wasn't anywhere big enough to accommodate him, yet there he still was.

He looked a little dangerous, she thought, and a lot dashing with the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He was all rumpled, sleepy, sex appeal, and an unmistakable tug on her heart made her hope this was the last time she would find him here.

His eyelids flickered and he stretched, then suddenly sat up when he saw her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” In the physical sense that was true because there was no more cramping. But emotionally she was a mess.

“You're not supposed to be on your feet. Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” she admitted, admiring the expanse of broad male chest covered with a dusting of dark hair.

“I'll make breakfast. Go back to bed,” he ordered.

After three days she knew resistance was futile, so she went back to bed. Before long the smell of eggs, turkey sausage, potatoes and toast drifted to her. Over her protests he'd grocery shopped and stocked her pantry. She had to admit the delicious aromas made her mouth water.

Then Nathan appeared in her doorway. He'd dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but his feet were still bare, his hair rumpled and the stubble unshaved. He held a food-filled tray, and she held in an appreciative sigh. Her mouth was watering, but it had nothing to do with the food.

“Breakfast is served.” He set the tray on her legs and started to leave.

“Can I talk to you, Nathan?”

“Sure.” The bed dipped from his weight when he sat on the edge, just inches from her leg. “What's up?”

“This isn't working.”

He frowned. “I can make something else for breakfast—”

“No. I mean this arrangement. You have to be exhausted from not having a bed to sleep in.”

“I have to admit I'm not lovin' the love seat.”

“That's what I'm talking about.” Sort of. She had to convince him to go away. “And I don't need you hovering over me. I haven't had any more cramping. So, really, you can go back to your place.”

“I'd like that,” he agreed. Much too easily. “On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You come, too.” He must have seen her start to protest because he held up a hand. “It has more room and everyone would have an actual bed to sleep in.”

“Don't think I'm not appreciative because I am.” Except for her family and three best friends, no one had ever been there for her like this. “But this is my home.”

“Okay. No problem.” He rubbed a hand across his chin. “Maybe I'll pick up an air mattress. My mother will understand why I'm not at the house.”

“Your mother?”

“She dropped in unexpectedly. She does that sometimes,” he said.

“You should go be with her. No need to babysit me.”

A gleam slid into his eyes. “Actually, you'd be doing me a big favor if you moved in. Mom and I could use a buffer.”

“You're not close?”

His mouth pulled tight. “She has her own interests.”

Shouldn't her interests include being with her son? None of her business, Cindy thought. “I wouldn't want to intrude. It would be such an inconvenience.”

“Look, Cindy, I'm serious about Mom and me needing someone to take the edge off. But here's the bottom line. You and I both want the baby to be healthy. That depends on your ability to stay off your feet and reduce your stress level. I intend to make that happen. Where it happens is up to you.”

She knew when to say when. Stalemate. Impasse. Someone had to blink, and apparently it would be her. She couldn't stand the thought of him being completely exhausted because she was too stubborn to compromise. There were other babies and parents depending on him.

“All right,” she said. “Your place it is.”

 

Nathan pulled into the driveway of his really big house before Cindy had time to process that she'd actually agreed to move in with him. He'd packed her things and wouldn't let her lift a finger, which was seven different kinds of sweet.

Now here they were. Parked beside a BMW SUV in his
driveway. It was a reminder that he already had a guest. Her stomach clenched.

“Did you tell your mother about the baby? Does she know you're bringing me here?”