by Myrna Mackenzie
Silhouette Romance #1540 September 2001
"I'M GOING TO HAVE MY BABY. RIGHT NOW!"
Rushing to the rescue, Mick Hannon swept the vulnerable, delicate woman into his arms—and straight to the Maitland Maternity clinic door. But before he could leave, he suddenly found himself coaxing—and coaching—her through the birth!
Mick was secretly investigating some odd incidents at the clinic. Yet protecting penniless but proud Laura Maitland and her beautiful, newborn baby girl quickly grew more important. Although Laura's past had opened her to suspicion, Mick couldn't believe she was anything but good and honest.
But how to tell her his own secrets...?
NOTE FROM AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
When I was given the opportunity to be a part of the Maitland Maternity series, I jumped at the chance. And when Mick Hannon, the hero, walked into my imagination, I knew I had made the right choice. What could be more sexy and exciting and romantic than a mysterious man on an undercover mission who stops everything to help a pregnant woman he doesn't even know? He's one tough hero, and Laura Maitland is just the type of strong woman a man like him should have. Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple (love never is, is it)? These two belonged together in my mind, but they just didn't see things my way. In the end, it was a bumpy, challenging, and very romantic journey, one I hope you'll enjoy.
REVIEWS
Amazon Books:
A very good book. The thing that amazes me is that the continuity is maintained well despite different authors writing for the series.
Reviewed By: M. A. Doyen
RT Book Reviews:
Some interesting surprises top off this touching read.
Reviewed By: Karen Matheny
EXCERPT
"I—I'm sorry, but I think I've waited too long. Please help me. I'm going to have my baby. Right now."
The soft, shaky words caught Mick Hannon's attention and he spun from where he'd been reviewing a set of blueprints outside Austin's Maitland Maternity Clinic to see a pale delicate woman with long brown hair swaying on her feet. Her eyes were wide with distress, her arms cradled her abdomen where her child lay. She was staring beseechingly at one of the gardeners who'd been trimming the bushes at this end of the long drive.
Just at that moment, the woman sucked in a deep breath and a low moan spilled from her pale lips. Her knees began to buckle. The unfortunate gardener's eyes went round and scared. He didn't move.
"Hell," Mick said, and he threw off his hard hat and rushed forward, slipping his hand behind the woman's back to support her as she began to slide downward.
"Easy, darlin'" he crooned. "Easy now. We'll get you inside where the doctors will take care of you." Automatically, he shifted one arm beneath her knees and lifted her high into his arms. The silk of her hair drifted against his neck, soft and smelling of flowers. In spite of her condition, she felt as light as froth. But as she lay in his grasp, she stiffened and nearly bucked out of his arms. The contraction rippled through her, tightening her slender arms and legs. He looked straight into huge green eyes glazed with pain. A light sheen of perspiration had dampened a few strands of her hair, making them catch against her lips.
A sense of panic and urgency filled him. This might be a maternity clinic, but he was only here to add a wing to the building. Pregnant women and babies were outside the realm of what he knew or wanted to know. Still, right now it appeared he was responsible for one very pregnant woman. A woman in agony. Mick clutched her more tightly as he turned toward the building.
"I'm—all right," she said as if she'd read his very thoughts, and he wondered if he'd spoken without realizing it. "Don't worry. This is—the way all women do it, I think. It's supposed to hurt." But her teeth sank into her lip and all he could think was that it wasn't fair that a woman this tiny should have to bear a pain this big for a baby that would come back in sixteen years and break her heart fifty thousand times. Gathering her closer, he moved forward.
She tried to sit up straighter. "I think—I think maybe I should be walking. All the books tell you to walk," she said in a strained voice the size of a field mouse.
Mick duly noted her need to be in control of her situation. He also noted how pale her skin was against her dark lashes. Gently, he adjusted his grip on her, trying to make her more comfortable, as she struggled to sit up once more.
"Shh. Be still. You can walk later," he suggested. "After the doctors say it's all right."
And right then, her body quivered and tightened and he could tell the roll of pain was gathering speed and depth. Her teeth clicked together as she held onto the scream he was sure she needed to give vent to.
"Hold on," he said gruffly, trying not to jostle her and hurt her any more than she already was. "Help's on the way." He approached the automatic doors of the clinic just as the woman in his arms went limp.
The doors slid back with an electric swish, and Mick strode into the waiting room, taking in his surroundings. There was a young receptionist in serious conversation with Megan Maitland, CEO of Maitland Maternity and matriarch of the Maitland clan, one of the first people he'd learned to recognize when he arrived in Austin a week ago. The tension in his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Megan probably knew a lot about women on the verge of giving birth. He started to turn her way, but a jerky movement from the lady in his arms stopped him mid-turn.
He glanced down at her. "You all right?"
She nodded tightly, then took a gasping breath of air as she looked toward Megan.
"Now blow it out," he directed, when it seemed as if the air had gotten trapped in her lungs.
She did, then took another breath and let it out, then another. She stole another quick glance toward the women who had turned their way.
"Okay. I'm—I'm…better now," the soft bundle of woman he was holding managed to say, and his attention was drawn to those green eyes that were now gazing straight into his own. "I--thank you for being here, and for helping me, but—I think I've pulled myself together now. I'm sorry that I acted so—so—"
"Pregnant?" he guessed with a hint of a smile.
She tried to smile back, but it was obvious that she was very weak. How in the world had she even managed to get here? "Pregnant," she agreed. "And stupid in not realizing I was so close to term. But—I'm sure I'm fine now. You can put me down. Now that I've caught my breath I can walk up to the desk." She pushed against his chest with those delicate fluttery hands of hers. A fruit fly would have made more of an impact. Her breath still sounded a bit labored and he made no move to follow her instructions.
He also noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring. So? Maybe she didn't have a husband…or maybe, well, there were plenty of pitiful excuses for husbands around. His father and stepfather had been cut from that very cloth, but with that thought, his beauty's baby chose that moment to move into action again. Mick felt the quick catch in her breath. Tension climbed his body as he clutched the woman close.
He veered toward Megan Maitland who was already crossing to meet him. "Ms. Maitland, she's having her baby right now. We need to do something here." His voice felt strained. A chill trickle of fear ran sprints up and down his spine.
"Don't worry. We will," she said, her voice soft and concerned. "Just bring her over here and we'll get her into a wheelchair and into the delivery room."
But the lady in his arms clutched tighter as the pain climbed and Megan shook her head.
"All right, never mind the wheelchair—or protocol. Come with me. I've had three babies of my own and I'm definitely of the opinion that when a woman is in labor, she deserves to be given whatever she needs. Right now, Mr. Hannon, this woman appears to need you."
For half a second, Mick wondered how the woman knew his name. But then, he'd heard she made a point of learning the names of those who worked for her. With the recent acts of vandalism at the clinic, she'd want to be able to identify the temporary employees. That wasn't good. The less the Maitlands knew of him the better. He should really leave the room now that he'd gotten his silken-haired beauty some help.
He opened his mouth to suggest that he needed to get back to work, but then the woman in his arms closed her eyes. Her delicate jaw tensed. He could almost taste the fear she was bravely struggling to control. And the gates of reason swung shut with a muffled click. He reluctantly nodded his agreement to Megan. He would stay here a few minutes longer.
Briskly Megan led the way out of the cool pastel reception area and down a corridor into a birthing room decorated in pale blue and white with honey-toned wood accents. It looked more homey than the hotel Mick was staying in right now.
Gently, he deposited the lady in his arms in a cushioned rocker, but she was apparently beyond noticing her surroundings. Indeed, she had curved those slender hands around his fingers and was holding on for dear life as if only he could save her. She looked up at him with deep distress in her eyes, and, automatically, he dropped to his knees, his jeans sinking into the plush carpet. He kept his eyes on hers and let her try to crush his big hands with her small ones.
"It's all right," he said. "Hold onto me."
"You're going to do just fine," Megan said. "Mick and I are going to make sure of that."
For half a second Mick's concentration broke. Belatedly, he remembered what he'd known for years. He was no woman's champion, and he had excellent reasons to steer clear of tempting women who were nesting.
A short time later, Megan asked the beauty her name.
Those pretty eyes fluttered closed, then she stared into Megan's eyes. "I'm Laura Maitland. From Las Vegas."
Megan looked startled, but she quickly caught herself. Mick, however, could only think one thing. I really shouldn't be here.
But he was here, and he was staying. For now.
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