Maitland Maternity: Triplets, Quads and Quints

Maitland Maternity: Triplets, Quads & Quints

Judy Christenberry

Tina Leonard

Kasey Michaels

Mindy Neff

Mary Anne Wilson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing full time. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favourite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, but now lives in Arizona.

Chapter One

Her head was beating like a bass drum during a pep rally. Briana McCallum stared at the shelf of pain relievers in the New York deli she’d found a block from the hotel, feeling lucky to have found it open after midnight.

There it was! Her favorite relief for headaches. She grabbed it and then took a soda from the refrigerated shelf nearby and hurried to the cash register.

She was digging through her purse when the clerk said, “You give me your money.”

“Yes, I’m looking for it,” she assured him, her head down as she dug through her bag for her billfold.

“No, all your money,” he returned harshly.

She looked up to find herself staring down the barrel of a pistol pointed directly at her.

“What—” she began, confused, when the outer door opened and another customer arrived. Relief poured through her. She wasn’t alone with the wacko anymore. The pistol swung away from her to the new arrival.

“You come. Give me money,” the clerk ordered.

The new arrival, a handsome man in a tuxedo, his tie untied, stared in surprise. “What’s going on?”

He looked at Briana for an explanation. “I think he’s planning on robbing us,” she said.

“I go home now. I need money,” the clerk said, as if that explained everything.

“Home to—?” the man asked.

“India. My mother sick. I go home. Give me money.”

After a dead silence, the man behind the counter began shifting, swinging the gun between the two of them, and Briana grew more nervous. “I—I don’t have a lot of money.” She pulled out about sixty dollars and laid it on the counter. “That’s all I have with me.”

“Now you,” the clerk said, scooping up the money and looking at the man.

With reluctance, the man pulled out his wallet from his back pants pocket. He took the cash out and laid it on the counter. Then he tucked his wallet away. “That’s all I’ve got.”

It was considerably more than Briana carried with her.

But she was distracted from thinking about that. The clerk came around the counter and gestured for them to go to the back of the store. Was he going to shoot them before he left? She didn’t want to die, not when her dream was just coming true. Not when she’d finally achieved—

“Go!” the clerk shouted, becoming more agitated.

The man put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently in front of him, keeping himself between her and the gun. A very protective gesture. One her brother Caleb would approve of. As did she.

They reached the back of the store and the clerk shoved open a door that said Employees Only. It was dark, not a large area, and she was reluctant to go in. Suddenly the man fell into her and she fell to her knees on the concrete floor. She heard a loud slamming noise and everything went black.

She thought she’d passed out, but she was still awake. Then she realized the door behind them had been slammed shut and there was no light.

“Are you okay?” the deep voice of the other customer asked. His hands found her shoulders again and he half lifted her to her feet.

“Yes, just bruised,” she said softly. “Are we—”

“Locked in.” He turned her loose and took a step back. In the darkness she felt abandoned.

Then a bright light came on.

She stared around her before her gaze returned to her companion. He’d found the light switch by the door and turned it on. She was grateful. Nothing seemed quite so bad when there was light.

“Thank you. I’m glad we’re not left in the dark.”

“I guess. But the accommodations aren’t too posh.”

She couldn’t argue with that assessment. They were in a small storeroom, the shelves packed with food items from floor to ceiling. The only piece of furniture was a sturdy stool, dingy white in color.

“At least we’re alive,” Briana pointed out. “I’ve heard of too many of these robberies where the witnesses were killed.”

“Yeah. I guess since he’s leaving the country, he doesn’t think we can hurt him.” The man prowled the storeroom, pacing from one end to the other. “I tried the door. I don’t think I can force it open.”

“Won’t we be okay? I mean, someone will come in to relieve him after a while, won’t they? If we just wait, he’ll let us out.”

The man looked at his watch. “Probably at seven, six if we’re lucky. Which means we have about five and half hours in this hellhole.”

She noticed his watch was a Rolex, which went well with his tux. Obviously not a man down on his luck. “Um, are you from New York?” she asked.

“No. Say, you don’t happen to have a cell phone, do you?” He turned and stared at her, his blue-eyed gaze enough to convince Briana to tell him the truth and nothing but.

“Yes, but I didn’t bring it with me. I didn’t think I’d need it in New York City.”

“Me, neither.” He began pacing again. After a minute, he said, “Obviously you’re not from New York, either.”

“No, Texas.”

“Ah. I’m from Chicago. The name’s Hunter.” He stuck out a large hand with slim strong fingers, a hand almost artistic in appearance except for its size.

“Briana,” she said. She tried to avoid using her last name with strangers, in case they knew of her family wealth. She’d been both pursued and rejected because of it.

“Unusual name.”

“I’m part of ABC.”

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m the second of triplets. My older brother is Adam, I’m Briana, and my younger brother is Caleb. ABC.”

“Very clever.”

“Not really. That’s what they called us until Dad got around to naming us.”

“I see,” he said, but Briana knew he didn’t. She’d left some information out of her explanation.

Then she thought she heard something. “Listen! Is that someone in the store?”

He came toward the door, nearer to her, and placed his ear against the wood. “I don’t hear anything.”

“I don’t now, either. It was just a rustling sound. Or maybe it was my imagination,” she admitted with a sigh. She put her fingers to her temples and massaged. Her headache was as bad as ever. Wait! The medicine she’d been about to buy. She’d stuck it and the soda in her handbag without thinking when the clerk had ordered them to the back of the store.

Her bag, large, one that could hold all kinds of necessities, was on the floor. She grabbed it, moaning as she stood. The motion wasn’t helping her headache.

“Are you all right?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, it’s just my headache. That’s why I was here. I didn’t have any pain reliever in my room and the hotel clerk sent me here. I think I’ll sue him.” She smiled to let her companion know she was joking. Digging into her purse, she found the unopened medicine and the soda. “Aha!”

He stared at her. “You managed to get what you needed.”

“Yes, I did,” she agreed as she tore at the wrapping. “Assuming I can ever get it unwrapped.”

“Here,” he said, taking the package away from her and deftly ripping the box open. He removed the bottle and quickly lined up the arrows to pop the lid off. “How many do you want, one or two?”

“Three,” she said distinctly, holding out her hand.

“Three? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

In spite of his helpfulness, she wasn’t happy with his interference. “Look, unless you’re a doctor—”

“I am.”

That response stopped her in her tracks. She was attending a medical conference on multiple births and a number of doctors had been in attendance. That would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?

“It doesn’t matter. I take this medicine all the time. When a headache isn’t stopped early, I need three tablets to make it go away.”

Without another word, he tapped the bottle and put three tablets in her hand. She popped the lid of the soda and tossed the pills in her mouth, then swallowed some of the liquid.

“I guess I should save the rest of the soda. Did you want a drink?” she asked, remembering he was a victim, too.

He hesitated, then said, “Yeah, I’ll take a sip, along with a couple of pills, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Of course not. Is that why you’re here, too?”

“Actually, I thought I’d get some milk to drink. My stomach needed settling.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink milk if you’re queasy,” she said.

“Unless you’re a doctor…” he said, challenging her with his blue eyes.

Quickly, she disavowed that occupation. She’d wanted to be a doctor, but she discovered as a teenager that blood made her pass out. That rather eliminated medicine as a profession. She’d chosen the next best thing, a hospital administrator.

“Is there any milk in here?” she asked, looking around.

“No, this part has no refrigeration. There’s some sodas, sports drinks, stuff like that. No milk. But I guess we won’t starve to death.”

“You mean we should help ourselves to their food? But wouldn’t that be stealing?”

He shook his head, grinning. “Not unless you’re a purist. I think I already paid about a hundred and fifty dollars. That should cover a few Twinkies.”

“Twinkies? Do they have Twinkies?” Normally, she restrained her junk-food urge. But stress, along with her headache, made her weak. Twinkies sounded perfect.

With a chuckle, the man reached up to a shelf behind her and drew down a box. He carefully examined the box before breaking it open.

“What were you looking for?” she asked, puzzled.

“Just checking. Here, have one. They’re individually wrapped.”

She took one and opened the cellophane, eager to taste the gooey sweetness. “Um, thank you. I may survive after all.”

“Is the headache gone?”

“It’s easing.”

“Well, you might as well be comfortable.” He stepped away and reached for the stool, placing it in the center of the storeroom. “Here’s your chair.”

His generosity reminded her of how he’d shielded her from the gun. The man was a true gentleman. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to take the only seat.”

He looked surprised. “You think I should sit while you stand? My mama didn’t raise me that way.”

“No, but we could share,” she assured him, smiling.

He looked even more surprised. “It’s not that big a stool.”

Realizing he thought she meant they could both occupy the stool at once, she turned bright red. “No! No, I meant we could take turns.”

A lopsided grin that only increased his sexiness was his initial response. “Darn, I was having some great images in my head.”

She didn’t want to think about those images. In fact, she thought the more distance she kept from this man, the better off she’d be. He was too handsome for his own good. “I’ll take a turn first,” she said and sat down on the stool, taking another bite of her Twinkie.

“Good decision,” he said and started pacing again.

“Maybe if you leaned against the shelves, it would be easier for you,” she suggested, her gaze following him as he moved. He was a big man. She wasn’t short, five-seven, but he had to be over six feet tall. Though there were a few grey hairs at his temples, they blended in with his blond hair, cut short. Very businesslike.

“No, thanks,” he said and continued to pace.

A big, hardheaded man. Fine, let him wear himself out pacing. She didn’t care!

She finished her Twinkie, and he offered another.

“No. You didn’t eat one.”

“Not yet. I’m sure I will before the evening’s over. My dinner was good. I had steak.”

Again Briana thought of her conference. They’d served steak at the banquet tonight. “What conference were you attending?”

“It was a conference about multiple births. I specialize in obstetrics, particularly at-risk pregnancies.”

“Oh.” The same conference. It was a wonder she hadn’t met him already. But she’d been interested in the administrative side of multiple births. Not the medical procedures being discussed.

“Not interested, even though you’re a multiple? Especially when any pregnancy you might have could be multiple?”

“No.”

“Have you had a pregnancy already?”

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“I assume you mean as a father, not as a mother.”

She rolled her eyes. The man thought he had a sense of humor. Ha!

“No. Me, neither. I hope to, someday.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but aren’t you getting a little old for a first-time dad?”

“I’m under forty, by two years. Men aren’t as affected by the biological clock as women. How about you? Is your clock ticking?”

“I’m thirty-one if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, irritation in her voice. She’d thought a lot about having a baby, but she’d promised herself, no baby until she found a father, one she could love and trust. She’d been betrayed once, and she was determined that wasn’t going to happen again.

He must’ve realized he’d upset her. With a soothing voice, he said, “You still have plenty of time.”

She ducked her head. She’d been rude, and he was trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry. That conversation was my fault, and I was rude.”

“Don’t worry about it. Have another Twinkie. It will sweeten you up.” He presented it to her with a flourish.

She took his offering. She didn’t want to be rude again. Slowly she unwrapped it and took a bite.

At the same time, he said, “What kind of conference were you attending?”

She choked. She should’ve been prepared, but his charm had distracted her. He came to her side and pounded on her back.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine. Please, that’s enough,” she added as he continued to slap her back.

“Sorry. Choking is dangerous. Maybe I should’ve tried the Heimlich maneuver.”

“No, it just went down the wrong way. I’m fine now,” she added. She hoped he’d move away from her. His distinctive male scent was enticing.

“Okay. What conference are you attending?”

She finally mumbled, “The same one.”

He frowned and took a step closer instead of backing off. “What did you say?”

“I’m attending the same conference,” she admitted, speaking clearly.

“You’re a medical professional?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean by not exactly?” he demanded, his hands on his hips.

“I’m in medical administration.”

“Oh. I guess that explains why I didn’t meet you. The joint sessions were pretty big.”

“Yes.”

HUNTER CALLAGHAN stared at the beauty sitting on the old stool. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, her light brown hair framing her delicate features and curving under as it reached her shoulders. It was the hazel eyes, however, that drew him the most.

“Suddenly you don’t want to talk?” he asked, distracted by her strange attitude.

She shrugged but said nothing.

“Did you enjoy the conference?”

She shrugged again. Then she added, “Look, I came to learn all I could. I’m not very experienced.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. Something was going on here, and he wanted to know what it was.

“I’m tired,” she muttered, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“No wonder, it’s almost two o’clock in the morning.”

She slid down from the stool. “I think it’s your turn to sit down. We should probably change every half hour.”

“I don’t need to sit. You go ahead.”

“No, I insist. I appreciate your gentlemanly behavior, but I don’t want to take advantage.” Standing, she came to his shoulder. Good. He hated short women who made him feel awkward. Not that it mattered. In a few hours he wouldn’t see her again.

Since she insisted, he took a seat on the stool, hooking the heels of his dress shoes over the lower rung. “Uh, Briana,” he said, trying to figure out if he was going to freak her out with what he had to say. But he had to warn her.

“Yes?”

“If you walk around, stay away from that back corner,” he said as casually as he could. He was hoping she wouldn’t ask why.

But of course she did.

“Why?”

“Well, I think that’s a rat trap. And I wouldn’t want you to get caught in it. I’m not sure I could free you.”

She paled and took a step closer to him, unusual on her part. He’d noticed she was more comfortable if he didn’t come close.

“A—a rat trap?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you examined the Twinkie box? But it’s on a high shelf. Surely a rat couldn’t get to it way up there?”

“It’s my understanding they can climb well.”

She took another step closer to him. “That’s why you wouldn’t lean against the shelves?” Horror had her shaking all over.

“Briana, they’re not going to attack us. I just wanted you to be careful.”

His words didn’t calm her. She pressed against his side, her gaze swerving around the room. “Have you seen any?”

“No. Probably the trap has been efficient and we won’t see any at all. I’m probably being an alarmist.” In spite of the noises he’d heard. She’d heard them, too, when they’d first entered the room, and thought someone was in the store. He looped his arm around her, liking the feel of her, the smell of her.

Great. That’s all he needed, to become uncomfortably aroused in addition to everything else. He was a little surprised by his response. The last few years, he’d found himself less and less attracted to the women who pursued doctors.

She broke from his hold. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly. There probably aren’t any rats in here, right? I’ll just stay away from that corner,” she promised, her lips trembling as she stepped away from him.

For several minutes she paced around the room and he had the pleasure of watching her. Her figure was worth looking at, especially in the snug-fitting jeans. He finally closed his eyes, trying to distract his mind with thoughts of operating procedures.

But those kinds of methodical thoughts had no chance over a beautiful woman in jeans. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, trying to think of a conversational topic that would distract both of them.

Instead, the silence was broken by a terrible clang. Something had been caught in the trap.

He looked at Briana, knowing it wasn’t her but wanting to make sure she was all right. He saw her just in time to catch her as she rushed to him and climbed the step stool as if it was a ladder.

She ended up in his lap, her legs wrapped around him, her arms tightening around his neck.

“Wow, why didn’t I think of sharing?” he said, a smile on his lips.

Chapter Two

Hunter sat holding a warm, trembling female, unsure what to do next. He didn’t mind holding her. In fact, sitting as they were, things were getting interesting. But she might object, since she’d already been leery of him.

“I know I should get down,” she muttered against his neck, sending tingling sensations through his body, “but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have a phobia about rats.”

“A phobia?”

“Yes, an unreasonable fear of something.”

He chuckled. “I’m a doctor, remember? I know what a phobia is.”

“Well, mine is rats. I was okay as long as I could convince myself they wouldn’t really show up here, but—but is it a rat in the trap?”

“Looks like it to me,” he said, staring over her shoulder. “I can’t be sure until I go over there.”

She squeezed him tighter. “No! No, don’t go over there! He might bite you.”

“How did you get a phobia about rats?” He cuddled her a little closer, liking the feel of her, her scent. “Were you raised in a slum?”

“No, not at all! We had a very nice house, but I saw a movie about a little boy and the rats—terrorized him. I screamed every night for weeks. My brothers laughed at me. Finally my father let me keep a cat in my room all night so I’d be protected.”

Her voice trembled, and Hunter had an immediate picture of that little girl, wildly afraid of rats, pleading for protection. He held her more tightly against him. “It’s all right. You’re safe, Briana. I won’t let the rats get you.”

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked, her voice small.

“No. I’m not laughing. I’m understanding.”

“Oh. Thank you. But we can’t—I mean, we can’t—this isn’t seemly.”

Ah. He knew what was causing her concern. “Look, Bri,” he said, shortening her name, “men react to stimuli without any, uh, intent. It’s not something they can control. I promise I won’t take advantage.”

“But it must be uncomfortable.”

“If I were wearing jeans, it would be. They don’t allow much wiggle room, uh, I mean, extra space.” He was discovering any extra space he had was disappearing rapidly. He said, “Maybe I should go over and look. Maybe it’s just a really big mouse. Would that be better?”

“I don’t think you should go over there,” she said, the trembling starting again.