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She could not have said how she knew those things— she just knew them. Perhaps she had matured in the past few months, would not so easily make the same mistakes again, she considered ruefully as her brain began to func
tion again with a special clarity. At the same time she also knew instinctively that he was not like Richard, who would promise the earth and then not follow through. This man, Marcus Blair, would hold himself back until he knew for sure that he could follow through—that he would want to.

'Where is she.. .my baby?' Lisa whispered, looking into those warm brown eyes that held such an enigmatic, intriguing quality.

'She's in the premature baby unit right now, even though there's absolutely nothing wrong with her. She is premature, though, by dates if not by weight. She weighs eight pounds. I guess they'll keep her there for twenty-four hours, then she'll be in the general nursery where you are.'

'Are you sure she's all right?' Her eyes searched his face for any sign that he might be covering up something.

'Absolutely.'

'I had a feeling it would be a girl,' she whispered, smiling slowly. 'I think I wanted a girl. Of course, I don't mind either way, I'm so happy.'

Dazed, she swayed sideways. Marcus Blair put an arm around her shoulders as he stood next to the stretcher and steadied her, drawing her against him so that her head lolled against the side of his neck and she felt the comforting warmth of his skin against hers. That action and her acceptance of it brought a strange sense of added disorientation.. .that she should be held in this way by a man she scarcely knew. Somehow it seemed all right.

Then it registered with her that he was wearing the green regulation scrubsuit that the surgeons wore.

'They still think I'm your husband around here,' he explained, sensing her unasked questions. 'They also know I'm a doctor, due to start work in the emergency department here on the first day of January. That sure helped in getting me in here.'

'I'm very glad you did,' she murmured, breathing in
his male scent and the faint tang of a subtle cologne. As she relaxed against him she became aware of the pain of the operation increasing in intensity. Very soon it would be difficult to tolerate as the pain-killing effects of the anaesthetic rapidly wore off.

'I wish I could see her,' she said wistfully. 'I want to hold her so much.'

'You will. On the way to your floor, when you get out of here, you'll do a detour by the prem baby unit,' he assured her. 'Are you in pain now?'

'Yes. I...I feel as though I've been hit in the stomach with an axe.' The attempt to joke did not quite come off as the pain increased, tempering the wonderful exhilaration and relief she felt that the baby was alive and well.

'I'll speak to the nurse. They'll give you an injection of Demerol. Your mother's here, by the way, waiting on the floor where you'll be transferred. I called her after the baby was born so you'll be seeing her shortly.'

'Thank you. I'm immensely grateful,' she said, marvelling yet again at how incredibly lucky she had been in meeting him.

Yet at the time she had met Richard she had thought something similar about him, too, although for very different reasons. Then she had marvelled at the intense attraction between them which had seemed too good to be true. Could she really trust her first impressions when such things were often wrong? Much better to listen to one's instincts. Right now she knew that the dull, emotionally induced ache in the region of her heart was for Richard.. .for what might have been.

'Dr Blair...' She grasped his arm as he made to get up to call a nurse. 'I appreciate what you've done for me. If.. .if you have a wife I hope she understands what you're doing here.'

'I don't have a wife,' he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers again.

'Then you don't have any children of your own?' she asked, careful to keep her voice low. This was a strange conversation to be having with one's 'husband'. It was suddenly imperative that she know something of what he was all about. If he had had a wife, his presence with her would perhaps take on a bizarre quality.

'No, I have no children,' he said, getting up. 'I'll get a nurse to give you that Demerol.'

It was a relief to know that he was not married, otherwise she would feel that they were together somehow under false pretences because she was becoming used to him, perhaps just a little dependent on his quiet common sense.

When the nurse came Lisa was more than ready for the painkiller. So many emotions were churning within her mind. Not least was the concern about what Richard would think—or do—if he were to find out that she had given birth to his baby. Would he give a damn? Worse, would he think she had become pregnant in an attempt—a pathetic attempt, he would have said—to get him back?

'I understand your husband's going to be working in Emergency in the new year? Head of Department, eh?' the nurse said.

'Urn...yes, that's right,' Lisa said, ad libbing, as she submitted to the jab of the needle.

Then she realized that if she were to get a post in the emergency department herself, as she hoped to do, she would be working with Dr Marcus Blair. That could lead to some complications if people there thought he was her husband. Perhaps by then anyone who knew about her delivery would have forgotten his presence.. .if she ever got a job there, which was by no means certain.

'Thanks.' Lisa smiled her gratitude at the nurse, trying to take the advice to relax her body when it felt as though it had been pounded all over. With her eyes closed, she allowed the sounds of the room to wash over her. There were other patients all around her in various stages of recovery. Soon she would be wheeled on the stretcher up to the postnatal floor. On the way she would see her little girl...

'Hi.' A hand touched hers. 'I understand you've had that injection.' Dr Blair was back with her, sitting on a stool beside her stretcher.

'Yes. You...er...you look awfully tired. I feel really guilty, keeping you up,' she said quietly, apologetically, registering how exhausted he looked. His eyes were bloodshot. 'It must be the middle of the night. I've lost all sense of time.'

'Not quite the middle of the night,' he said lightly. 'Don't worry about it.'

'But I do worry about it,' she protested, 'when you've been so incredibly kind to me. Did you get a chance to have a meal?'

'Sure,' he said. 'I made a quick visit to the hospital cafeteria while you were under the anaesthetic. I'm fine.'

'I can feel the Demerol taking affect now,' she said drowsily. 'I.. .I'll probably see you around in the hospital some time in the new year. Hopefully, you won't have to rescue me again for anything.'

What she really wanted to ask was the question of whether she would ever see him again in a capacity other than a professional one. After the strange intimacy they had shared, during one of life's crises, it would be very odd to revert to a professional relationship. But, then, unless she got to work in Emergency it would perhaps not be a consideration...

'You'll take some months off, presumably?' he asked.

'Yes. three months' maternity leave. Then I'll be coming back to work part time in the OR... or maybe the emergency department... I don't really know yet.'

'We may be colleagues, then,' he murmured.

'Maybe,' she agreed. 'I guess I'm lucky to be offered a part-time position in this economic recession.' Lisa stopped talking, aware that she was prattling on because Marcus Blair was sitting very close to her, watching her in a very astute way. Suddenly there was a tension between them which she felt acutely, even though the edge of her awareness was rapidly becoming dulled by the drug she had received.

Maybe he was wondering what sort of person he had really got himself temporarily involved with, she thought—maybe wondering whether there would be any negative repercussions for him. He must surely be wondering why she didn't want Richard informed.

'I've been talking to your mother,' he said. 'She told me you have a flat in their house. . .your childhood home.'

'Yes,' she said.

'Maybe I shouldn't ask this,' he said slowly, 'but I'm going to, anyway. I'm curious. Tell me to go to hell if you want. What about the guy.. .Richard?'

There was no point in prevaricating. Lisa moistened her dry lips. 'He's out of the picture,' she said softly. 'I don't intend to tell him I have a baby.'

'Your mother doesn't seem to think he's out of the picture,' he said.

'Well. . .' She fought to concentrate as her thinking processes became fuzzy. 'She.. .she harbours a hope that we'll get married, that everything will be OK between us. It's too late for that, all over...' Her speech had become slurred and she closed her eyes wearily.

'So you don't want him contacted?'

'No.'

'Look, I'm going to go now. You need to sleep.'

'Must you?' she whispered.

'No.. .not if you don't want me to.'

'Mr Stanton, your wife's doing too much talking, I think, and not breathing in enough of that oxygen.' The nurse took the decision out of her hands. 'Maybe it's time for you to go, if you wouldn't mind. You can see her later on the postnatal ward. OK?' It was an outright dismissal.

From under heavy lids Lisa watched Marcus stand up, ready to leave. 'Yes, yes, of course,' he agreed.

All at once she wanted to howl, to articulate her need of him, to put her arms around his neck and hold him tightly to her. Or was it really Richard she wanted? There was so much confusion in her tired mind.

Once again he pressed her hand briefly as the nurse moved away from them. 'Goodbye, Lisa,' he said softly. 'Take care of yourself and that lovely baby.'

Lisa returned the pressure, hoping he would understand from that simple gesture the depth of her gratitude. How inadequate it seemed. 'Goodbye, Marcus,' she whispered.

She kept her eyes closed while he walked away from her, holding her breath on the sob that rose uncontrollably to her throat. Now she had the double loss to bear—the loss of her baby from her womb and now the loss of the man who had somehow helped her to hold herself together.

The longing for her baby, that tiny scrap of humanity, was acute. Somewhere in the hospital, in the premature baby unit, she, too, was essentially alone. Lisa had the poignant urge to get up and run to her. What if everyone had been lying and she had not survived? Until she saw for herself she could not still the underlying feeling of agitation, even though the powerful drug was having its effect.

Perhaps if she gave the baby a name it would help. Emma, perhaps.. .or Kate? Those were two of the names she had considered for a girl. Lily? Ruth? Katya? Her tired brain considered all the names. Why not Emma Kate? Yes, that was it! Hullo, Emma Kate. She sent a silent message to her baby, as though by sheer will-power she could communicate. I'll be with you very soon.

Although she was not physically isolated or alone—far from it in that bustling room—and was very well taken care of, she felt herself to be an island, washed on all sides by a vast, lonely ocean with nothing else in sight as far as the eye could see.

'You have the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen,' Richard had said on that very first dinner date they had spent together on that first weekend.

'Are you flattering me with any specific purpose in mind?' she had responded lightly.

'Sure I am.' He had grinned back. 'What else?' Although he'd said it without any particular inflection, there had been an unmistakable message there. Now I think I know where I stand, she had thought. But she had been more innocent than she had supposed then.

Perhaps she should have backed off, should not have picked up the challenge. Even then she had begun to understand that Dr Richard Decker had seldom done anything— or said anything—without a purpose, without making a move towards something he wanted. Where she should have been warned, she'd found his assumptions somehow exhilarating. Against her better judgement, she had picked up the gauntlet, so to speak.

After six months they had been living together...

'We're going to take you up to the floor now, Mrs Stanton.' A voice cut through her jumbled reverie. This time there was a sense that time had passed, that she had slept. 'All your vital signs are normal so we're going to ship you out.' The same nurse who had given the injection was back.

'Thanks.' Lisa smiled.

'Has the pain gone?' the nurse asked.

'Yes,' Lisa mumbled, 'I feel fine now. Will I be able to see my baby on the way?'

'You sure will. I'll be going with you.'

'Here she is, Mrs Stanton. All eight pounds of her!'

Emma Kate was wrapped in a pale pink blanket, bundled up neatly like a parcel so that only her head was showing.

'Can I... Can I hold her?'

'You sure can.' The nurse in the premature baby unit handed over the pink bundle which was surprisingly heavy.

Reaching for her daughter, Lisa knew that she was going to cry. There was no holding back the emotion that welled up in her.

'They all cry!' the nurse said in mock resignation. 'It must be something to do with the separation. She sure is a cute one!'

'Oh.. .she's so sweet, so beautiful,' Lisa whispered as, with blurred vision, she surveyed her baby for the first time. Then she lifted the face up to hers to feel the velvet-soft skin against her own, to feel the fine, downy hair.

Emma Kate had her eyes closed, her face in repose. Her eyelids were a little puffy and her face with its soft, full cheeks a little tired, signifying the fraught journey she had endured to get into the outside world. As her heart contracted with love and empathy Lisa kissed her daughter. There seemed to be nothing of Richard in her daughter's face. In fact, she seemed to look like her maternal grandmother, the same soft, very feminine persona.

Somewhat fearfully Lisa had wondered whether she would love her child any less if it looked exactly like Richard...even though she still loved him. Now she knew that none of that mattered.

'We'll bring her for you to feed in the morning.' The nurse took Emma Kate back. 'Then after twenty-four hours you'll have her with you.'