Snowkissed!: The Midwife's Marriage Proposal
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‘All right,’ she said firmly, ‘this is what we’re going to do. I can completely understand that it must be very confusing for you having come from a hospital saying one thing to a hospital saying another …’
Angela looked at her. ‘And I don’t know anyone here,’ she muttered. ‘We had to move here because of Peter’s job. I knew all the midwives at the hospital in London. Here I don’t know anyone.’
Her husband looked racked with guilt. ‘I should never have taken the job.’
Angela sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s a good job, and you’ve always wanted to live here.’
‘A sensible man. This is a great place to live,’ Sally said lightly, taking Angela’s hand in hers and squeezing it firmly. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. I don’t know anyone either. I’m a very experienced midwife but this is my first day on this particular unit so we can bond together and keep each other company.’
Angela gave a wobbly smile. ‘But you’ll go off duty before the baby is born.’
Sally shook her head. ‘Not me. All that’s waiting for me at home is lots of unpacking and even more washing so, trust me on this, I’m looking for an excuse to stay at the hospital.’
‘Unpacking?’
‘I’ve been away for a while,’ Sally said with a smile. ‘I haven’t had a chance to settle back in yet.’
Emma cleared her throat. ‘I’ll leave the two of you together.’ She looked at Sally. ‘I’ll let Mr Hunter know that Angela is here.’
Angela sighed. ‘He’s the one who wants me to have it the normal way.’
Her husband took a deep breath. ‘The guy has a brilliant reputation, Angela. I’ve talked to a few people about him. I think you should listen to what he has to say.’
Sally was reading the notes again. ‘I agree with your husband. You need to have a proper talk with him, tell him how you feel.’
‘I’m useless with doctors,’ Angela mumbled. ‘They always intimidate me. Before they arrive in my room I have all these questions, and then once they’re standing there I can’t bring myself to ask any of them.’
‘Well I’ll be with you,’ Sally assured her, ‘and I’ll make sure that he answers all your questions and that you don’t feel intimidated. Let me know when you have another contraction because I want to listen to the baby’s heart.’
Angela screwed up her face and sucked in a breath. ‘I’ve got another pain coming now.’
Sally reached for the Sonicaid and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat echoed around the room.
‘That’s sounding good. Remember your breathing. That’s it. Great …’ Sally coached her gently, timing the contraction, and when Angela finally relaxed again she stood up. ‘Right. I’d like to examine you and see how your labour is progressing, and then I’m going to hook you up to one of our machines just for a short while. Then we’ll find Mr Hunter.’
And that was the bit that she wasn’t looking forward to.
Tom finished writing up a set of notes and glanced up to find Sally standing there.
His whole body tightened and he rose to his feet, his eyes fixed to hers.
For a moment they stared at each other, the clinical nature of their surroundings forgotten, tension pulsing between them like a living force.
Then she dragged her eyes away from his and took a deep breath.
‘I need to talk to you about Angela.’ Her tone was cool and professional, not a hint of the personal in her manner. ‘I’ve examined her and she’s four centimetres dilated, but it sounds as though she’s been in labour for a while. She’s very anxious. Her last obstetrician said that he was going to section her.’
His brain registered the fact that she was talking about work but the rest of his body was concentrating on something entirely different. His attention was caught by her seductively long lashes and by the fullness of her perfect mouth.
He’d been the first man to kiss that mouth.
The first man to—
With a determined effort he pulled himself together. ‘I’m not planning to section her. I scanned her two weeks ago to measure the thickness of the lower uterine segment and I was perfectly satisfied that she’s a good candidate for vaginal delivery this time round.’
‘Then you need to talk to her,’ Sally said calmly. ‘Because at the moment all she’s hearing is contradiction, and she has no reason to believe you are any more skilled than the last man she spoke to.’
Tom frowned slightly. ‘I talked to her when I scanned her. She was fine.’
‘She was confused and worried.’
‘She didn’t say anything.’
‘Verbally, perhaps not. But did you read her body language?’ Her eyes held his. ‘She finds doctors intimidating. She was afraid to question you.’
Tom tensed, significantly discomfited by her implication that he’d been insensitive to the needs of a patient.
But, then, why would Sally believe that he was capable of sensitivity?
He gritted his teeth and took the criticism on the chin. ‘Believe it or not, I do try to interpret what women are feeling. I certainly don’t want them worried by anything I’ve said.’
‘Well, she’s worried,’ Sally said flatly, ‘and at the moment she is totally convinced that what she needs is another C-section.’
Tom inhaled sharply. ‘Caesarean rates have been steadily increasing over the last two decades,’ he said harshly. ‘Eighty per cent of women can safely deliver vaginally after a previous section, providing they meet certain criteria.’
Her gaze didn’t flicker. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ Her voice was smoky and soft and curled around his raw emotions like the smoothest silk. ‘All I’m saying is that she’d been told she was having another Caesarean and then you told her she wasn’t, and she didn’t understand how two doctors could say such different things. She deserves an explanation. In fact, I’d go as far as to say she needs an explanation, otherwise she will be far too anxious to concentrate on her labour. She’s stressed and I’m sure you’re aware of the evidence that suggests that stress can reduce uterine activity.’
He listened, intrigued by the change he saw in her.
This wasn’t the Sally he’d known.
When had she developed such poise and confidence? he wondered, his eyes sliding over the determined jut of her chin and the set of her narrow shoulders. He could remember clearly a time when she’d hung on to his every word as if he were some sort of god. When she’d been so lacking in self-confidence that she’d barely been able to make a decision without help.
Now she stood her ground, challenging him to defend his decision without displaying a flicker of discomfort, every bit his equal.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said finally, slipping his pen into his pocket and closing the notes in which he’d been writing. ‘We’ll do it together. Then you can tell me if I’m insensitive.’
He strolled round the desk and saw her back away hastily, as if she was afraid that he might touch her.
The realization that he wanted to do just that came as a shock.
For a moment their eyes held, and if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of the labour ward, in full view of anyone who happened to pass, Tom would have kissed that soft mouth that he remembered so well.
He’d been addicted to her mouth. The look of it, the feel of it under his, the taste of it …
‘We need to talk, Sally,’ he said roughly. ‘In private.’
In fact, he realized with a sudden stab of shock that he wanted to do a great deal more than talk.
Something flickered in those green depths. ‘No.’ Her voice was low but firm and she glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if she was afraid someone might have overheard his comment. ‘We don’t need to talk.’
Tom drew in a long breath, finding it difficult to know how to respond to this new, confident Sally.
In the old days she would have talked.
In the old days she couldn’t get enough of him.
They’d talked for hours about everything and anything.
‘All right, then, I’ll talk and you can just listen. There are things I need to say to you.’
They couldn’t pretend that the past hadn’t happened.
If they were going to be able to work together effectively, then at the very least they needed to clear the air.
She looked at him. ‘You said everything that needed to be said on the last occasion we met.’ Her gaze was clear and direct and her voice was remarkably steady. ‘And I got your message, Tom. Loud and clear.’
CHAPTER TWO
SALLY turned and walked back along the corridor, her legs shaking and her heart thumping.
When she’d imagined meeting him again, part of her had wondered whether she would feel differently about Tom. Didn’t people often look back and wonder what they’d seen in their first love? She’d often wondered if that would be true of her. Would she look at Tom and wonder what all the fuss had been about?
But now she knew that the answer to that was no.
She could see exactly why she’d fallen for Tom and she knew that if she wasn’t careful, she could fall for him again.
He was the sexiest man alive, with those sharp blue eyes, that brilliant brain and that unshakable self-confidence that had been such a draw when she’d been an insecure teenager.
He’d always been strong in every sense of the word and he was still strong.
Reminding herself that she wasn’t insecure any more and that she didn’t need his strength, she lifted a hand to push open the door to Angela’s room, but a powerful arm slid in front of her and turned her round, backing her against the wall.
‘Don’t think you can avoid me for ever,’ Tom warned softly, his blue eyes burning into hers as he planted an arm to one side of her, reducing her opportunities for escape. ‘You chose to come back.’
He was too close.
She couldn’t cope when he was this close.
Her nose picked up the tantalizing male smell that was Tom, and desire, long dormant, uncoiled low in her pelvis.
She flattened herself against the wall, impossibly aware of the strength in his shoulders and the hardness of his eyes.
‘What are you implying?’ Her eyes sparked into his and she pushed the past to the front of her brain. She wasn’t doing this again. ‘That I came back to you? Don’t flatter yourself, Tom. I came back home. My friends are here. Friends I’ve missed. I have as much right to live here as you.’
The fact that her friends were also his friends and family was something that she didn’t want to think about right now.
In fact, she couldn’t think about anything much with him standing so close to her.
She wanted to move but she couldn’t.
Her body was pinned against the wall, trapped by the heat of his gaze and by her own weakness.
‘Which is why we need to talk. This is a small community, Sally. Everyone knows about our past relationship. Do you really think it’s something that we can ignore? We need to deal with it.’
She was painfully aware of the warmth and power of his body so close to hers, of the fact that if she moved even a fraction she would be in his arms.
And that was the last place in the world she wanted to be.
Suddenly she found the strength she needed.
‘We both dealt with it seven years ago, Tom,’ she said calmly, her steady voice totally at odds with the rapid beating of her heart, ‘and people will soon get used to the idea that our relationship is purely professional now. Excuse me. I need to get back to Angela.’
His eyes narrowed slightly but his arm dropped and he stood to one side.
Feeling totally shaken but determined not to show it, Sally walked into the room and smiled at the woman now comfortably settled on the bed.
‘How are you doing, Angela? I’ve brought Mr Hunter to have a word with you.’ Desperate for a few moments to collect her thoughts and calm her frantic pulse rate, she checked the CTG trace carefully. Then she glanced at Tom, her expression neutral, as if he were a consultant she’d only just met and not a man who had been the love of her life. ‘Do you want her to be continuously monitored?’
Tom shook his head. ‘Not for the time being. There’s no reason for it, providing we keep a close eye on everything.’ He smiled at Angela and settled himself on the edge of the bed. ‘It seems as though I owe you an apology.’ His voice was soft and his eyes shone with warmth as he looked at the anxious woman. ‘When I saw you a few weeks ago I told you that I wanted you to try and deliver this baby yourself. I obviously didn’t notice how worried you were.’
Angela shifted awkwardly. ‘It doesn’t matter …’
‘It matters,’ Tom said firmly, ‘and from now on I need you to promise that you’ll ask me about anything that worries you and we’ll talk about it together. Do you promise?’
Angela looked at him and a smile wobbled on her face. ‘All right.’
‘Good.’ Tom nodded and took the CTG trace that Sally handed him, his gaze flickering over the paper, interpreting the results. Then he handed the paper back to her and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s talk about Caesarean sections,’ he said quietly. ‘There are a few things that I should explain. It’s a major operation, Angela, and it is not the ideal way to have a baby if there are alternatives. When you had your first child, clearly the doctors thought that a section was the safest mode of delivery, but this time I think you should deliver vaginally.’
Angela licked dry lips. ‘And what if I can’t?’
‘I’m very confident that you can or I wouldn’t be suggesting it,’ Tom said calmly, ‘but Sally and I will be with you every step of the way, and if anything about your labour suggests that a Caesarean would be safer then I’ll section you.’
Angela glanced nervously at her husband. ‘We’ve read about uterine rupture …’
Tom nodded. ‘All right, let’s talk about that.’ His voice was deep and confident. ‘Firstly you should know that it is a very rare occurrence.’
‘But it does happen.’
‘It can do,’ Tom admitted, ‘which is why we very carefully select the women who we think can deliver vaginally after a section. The chance of a successful delivery is lowered if labour is induced, but you’ve gone into spontaneous labour so that’s good. I’ve also taken into account the type of incision that your obstetrician used last time and the way that the uterus was repaired. All of that makes me confident that you can deliver vaginally.’
Angela shifted slightly on the bed. ‘So why did my last consultant want me to have another section?’
Tom hesitated and it was Angela’s husband who answered.
‘I suppose doctors have different opinions about what’s best,’ he said gruffly, ‘but it seems to me that Mr Hunter is talking sense. And you know how sad you were not to have the baby naturally last time. You said as much at the time.’
Angela nodded. ‘I know.’ She put her hand on her scar protectively. ‘But I don’t want anything to go wrong.’
Tom took her hand. ‘I know you’re anxious, Angela,’ he said softly, ‘but I’m asking you to trust me. And to trust Sally.’ He glanced at her with a warm smile, nothing in his gaze suggesting that they were anything other than the closest of colleagues. ‘Sally will be with you the whole time and I will be popping in and out during the day. If we’re remotely concerned, we’ll think again, but I want us to aim for a vaginal delivery.’
He was confident and totally in control and Sally saw Angela relax.
It was a shame he didn’t have the same effect on her, she reflected helplessly. The closer Tom was, the tenser she became.
Angela gave a gasp as another contraction tore through her body and Sally waited for Tom to move so that she could sit with the mother and help her through it.
But he didn’t move. Instead, he placed a hand on the top of the mother’s uterus and felt the contraction, talking to Angela softly as he did so, encouraging her to breathe properly, reminding her what her body was doing.
Angela screwed up her face and grabbed Tom’s arm, her fingers digging hard into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch.
Sally watched him helplessly, part of her wanting him to do something wrong just so that it would be easier to hate him. She knew he could be hard and insensitive. She’d been on the receiving end of his ruthless streak. She didn’t want to see his soft side. Didn’t want to see any single part of him that made him attractive.
‘Good girl.’ His voice was warm with approval as he spoke quietly to Angela. ‘That was a strong contraction. You’re coping very well.’
Flushed from his praise and encouragement, Angela let out a long breath. ‘But I haven’t dilated much. If I don’t hurry up, are you going to induce me?’
Tom shook his head and stood up. ‘In this hospital, Angela, we meddle with nature as little as possible and with as much subtlety as possible. If I induce you, your contractions will be even stronger and that will put more strain on the uterus. For the time being we’re leaving it all to nature, but obviously we’ll be watching closely to make sure she doesn’t have any surprises in mind. Have you considered pain relief?’
‘No.’ Angela shook her head and glanced anxiously at her husband. ‘Because I thought I was having a section. I suppose I should just have an epidural.’
‘You could do that,’ Tom agreed, ‘but epidurals are not without their drawbacks. Why don’t you start off by trying our pool?’
Angela looked at him. ‘You mean a water birth?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t actually deliver in the water,’ Tom said, ‘but it’s certainly an excellent way of relaxing. Would you like to give it a try? Many women find that being in the water really helps them cope with the pain.’
Angela glanced at her husband and then nodded. ‘All right. Yes, I think I’d like that. I always fancied the idea but with the first one I always knew I was having a section from the start and so I didn’t think it would ever be an option for me.’
Tom smiled. ‘Well, it’s an option now. I’ll get someone to get one of our pools ready.’ He turned to Sally. ‘Any problems, call me. I’ll have a word with Emma.’
With that he strode out of the room, leaving them all staring after him.
‘He’s nice,’ Angela said immediately, shifting on the bed to try and find a more comfortable position. ‘Very confident. The sort of person you feel you can depend on.’
Sally moved the CTG machine out of the way, careful to mask her own feelings. She’d certainly depended on Tom a great deal. In fact, he’d been her whole life, and when he’d ended their relationship …
She pushed the memories aside and settled herself next to Angela. She wasn’t going to think about Tom. She was going to do her job and settle back down at home.
‘Do you have any children?’ Angela looked at her and Sally shook her head.
‘No. I’m not married.’
Angela laughed and rubbed her swollen stomach. ‘As if that makes a difference these days. Do you want children of your own?’
Once she’d wanted that more than anything else in the world.
Sally smiled. ‘One day, maybe,’ she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder with relief as Emma stuck her head round the door.
‘The pool’s ready for you. I’ve brought you a wheelchair.’
‘Thanks, Emma.’ Sally slid a hand over Angela’s uterus. ‘We’ll wait until after the next contraction and then we’ll make a move.’
Four hours later Angela was progressing well.
‘I love the water,’ she moaned softly, closing her eyes and breathing carefully as another contraction hit her. ‘It feels so soothing. And I love being able to move around.’
Sally checked the baby’s heart with the underwater Doppler, satisfied that everything seemed to be going well.
‘Why do you keep listening after the contraction ends?’ Angela’s husband had been by her side the whole way through, asking questions constantly.
Respecting his concern, given their previous experience, Sally had been careful to give him detailed answers to everything.
‘During a contraction blood can’t flow through the placenta so easily. Some babies are fine with that, but others may not be and their heart rate may be affected. It’s a sign that the baby is stressed. If it happens in the middle of the contraction and the baby’s heart recovers quickly, we don’t worry too much, but if a baby’s heart rate is affected after the contraction is finished then we need to keep an eye on it.’
He stroked a hand over his wife’s head and offered her a glass of water. ‘But in our case everything is fine?’
‘Absolutely.’ Sally removed the Doppler from the water and dried her hands. She had been monitoring Angela like a hawk, constantly alert to any signs that her scar might be threatening to rupture. ‘How are you doing, Angela?’
‘Fine. I love the water. I’m just anxious about what’s to come.’
There was a tap on the door and Tom strolled into the room dressed in theatre scrubs.
The loose cotton fabric emphasized the width and strength of his shoulders and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of dark chest hair.
Sally swallowed and concentrated her attention on Angela. She’d always adored his body. He was the most masculine man she’d ever met and she’d never been able to look at him without feeling her stomach lurch.
It seemed that nothing had changed.
She didn’t want to feel like this.
Hadn’t expected to feel like this.
Seven years of absence was supposed to have cured her of Tom Hunter.
She closed her eyes for a second, trying to blot out the vision of those strong arms and that firm mouth, resenting the pull of attraction that tugged at her body.
She breathed in deeply and tried to focus her mind.
Better to acknowledge the attraction and control it than deny it and allow it free rein to consume her.
All right, so she was still physically attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?
It didn’t mean that she was going to be stupid enough to fall for him again.
There was no way she’d risk exposing herself to that degree of pain a second time.
Clearly oblivious to her internal battle, Tom walked across the room, his eyes on Angela.
‘How’s it going?’ His voice was velvety smooth and he crouched down by the pool, his eyes warm as they rested on the labouring mother. Despite having a punishing workload, he’d been in and out of the room all afternoon, checking on Angela and getting updates from Sally.
And Sally had to admit that he was good. Because he’d bothered to spend the time, Angela was now totally relaxed with him, and it was obvious that she trusted Tom implicitly.
‘All right, I think—’ Angela sucked in a breath and gave him a weak smile. ‘Not looking forward to the end bit, to be honest. I’m just worried that Sally will leave me and go home if I take too long.’
Sally smiled. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Home was Bryony’s cottage. A lonely reminder that she didn’t actually have anywhere that was hers.
But she’d sort that out, given the first opportunity.
She was off at the weekend and she’d already made arrangements to view a couple of places.
Angela looked at Tom. ‘She’s brilliant. So calm. Better than pain relief. Everyone in labour should have Sally.’
Tom looked at Sally and she saw something flicker in his blue gaze. ‘I agree,’ he said softly, ‘Sally is very special.’
But not special enough to prevent him from ending their relationship.
Flattened by painful memories, Sally straightened and walked over to the flickering candles that she’d lit earlier in an attempt to help Angela relax.
Tom followed her. ‘You’re happy with her?’ His eyes were searching and she nodded, looking away quickly from that disturbing blue gaze.
When he’d made love to her she’d always stared into his eyes. Had been unable to take her eyes off him, hypnotized by the wonder of being with Tom. Looking into his eyes had been the only way she’d been able to believe that she’d actually been living the fantasy. That this amazing man had wanted her.