‘You’ve done a great job, Claire.’ His easy compliment massaged her ego.
‘It wasn’t just me. Four of us worked on the project and set the centre up. I was just the one delegated to deal with all the red-tape stuff.’ She grimaced and screwed up her nose.
‘Because … you’re so good at it?’
Claire laughed. ‘No. Because it was my idea and that was all the reason they needed to make me do it. You should meet the others in the next few weeks.’
‘How about you have dinner with me tonight and fill me in on how you envisage the centre will run?’
Claire wasn’t fooled by his innocent smile. Same motive as before, just disguised in a different wrapper. Who was she kidding? If her life were at all normal then she’d have jumped at the chance. He was, after all, a very attractive man. But there was so much about her life that was complicated.
It was far easier to deny herself completely than to suffer the inevitable heartache. That was the mantra she lived by. Despite this, Claire felt a flutter in her chest that was an entirely new experience for her. Why? She hardly knew the man!
‘Take a seat.’ Claire indicated behind him. ‘I’ll fill you in now.’
He laughed but pulled up a chair anyway. Claire continued.
‘Pregnant women, when they first make contact with the hospital, will be offered our service. If they decide it’s for them, they’ll have their initial consultation with you. If they’re suitable, you’ll refer them to us. All their subsequent appointments will be with us. We’ll see them every four weeks until twenty-eight weeks, and then every fortnight until thirty-six and then weekly until they deliver. Same as usual. If they haven’t delivered by forty weeks then you’ll see them again to check everything’s OK.’
‘Right. I assume it’s short stay? How long do they stay after the baby is born?’
‘Twenty-four hours generally. Each case will be different, of course. It’ll also be influenced by demand. If women wish to stay longer, they’ll be transferred to one of the postnatal wards. The hospital’s Community Midwifery Service will follow up the women who choose early discharge. Then we see them here again six weeks later.’
‘Very good.’ He nodded. ‘But what about the birth? What pain relief do you offer? What’s the procedure if complications develop?’
‘We offer gas and pethidine, although we’d prefer to try alternatives first.’
‘Such as?’
‘Heat, massage, positioning, water. However, if the client wants something stronger, or if complications develop, we transfer them to Labour Ward. We continue to be their midwives and will still deliver their babies, and then they come back to the birth centre afterwards, depending on their level of intervention.’
Campbell continued to fire questions at Claire. She answered them in full.
‘One more question, Sister West.’ He smiled, his green eyes glittering with mirth.
‘Yes?’ she replied warily.
‘Do you like Thai or would you prefer Indian?’
Claire groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘Neither.’
‘Italian?’
‘I’m not going to go to dinner with you, Campbell. Quit asking.’
‘I never quit. My mother says I’m the most stubborn person she knows.’
‘Well, I think you’ve just met your match.’
‘I’m not going to go away, Claire. I won’t give up.’
‘Always get what you want, huh?’
‘No, not always. I’ve just never wanted anything so much before.’ Campbell’s pager beeped and he whisked it off his belt, frustration marring his handsome face. ‘Saved by the bell, Claire West. I’ve got to go. Labour Ward needs me.’
Claire stood, grateful that he was finally leaving and that she’d be able to breathe properly again. He stood at the same time and suddenly their bodies were a whisper away from touching. She wanted to close the gap so badly, she had to look down to cover the surprising reaction his proximity had caused. Something was wrong—she’d known him for less than two hours! This shouldn’t be happening.
‘This isn’t over.’ The low timbre of his voice slid down her spine as he pressed two fingers beneath her chin and raised her head. ‘It’s just the beginning.’
She held her breath and stood very still, watching his green eyes glitter with promise. And then he was gone and Claire sagged into the chair, relieved to be alone.
Well, his mother was right. Claire had never met someone so determined. If he pursued her as relentlessly as he had today, how long could she hold out against his resolve? Especially when she knew, deep down, that if the circumstances of her life had been different, she wouldn’t have hesitated.
Claire couldn’t deny she was attracted to Campbell, and it had been a long time since she’d felt that about a man. It had been a long time since she’d even been with a man. And many had tried. One or two had even been quite persistent. But despite their ardour, she’d been unmoved.
It had been easy to stick to her guns when the men in question had done nothing for her. But Campbell was a real enigma. Could she honestly say she was indifferent to him?
Claire shook herself. It didn’t matter. She was still bound by her no-relationship policy and it was one she must adhere to, no matter what artillery he used to try and persuade her.
She might be appealing to him now, but Claire knew from bitter experience that initial attraction waned. She need only think of Shane to be reminded of that. Campbell didn’t know it, but she was doing this for his own good.
* * *
‘Ready for the last patient, Campbell?’ Sister Andrea Marshall asked, poking her head around his office door. She’d been nurse in charge of Obstetric Outpatients for the last five years. She had been at St Jude’s for as long as Claire, and they had done their midwifery training together.
He stretched and smiled at her, noting her keen interest. She’d been flirting with him all morning. A month ago he wouldn’t have hesitated but, since meeting Claire, all other women had ceased to exist. Still, her interest was flattering to his increasingly deflated ego. A harmless flirtation with a busty blonde was exactly the right medicine.
‘Sure, Andrea, send her in,’ he said, his mind distracted by the challenge Claire presented.
That she had been avoiding him, and quite successfully too, hadn’t escaped his notice. Still, he was prepared to wait. All good things came to those who waited. Didn’t they? And with the birth centre officially opened last week, Campbell knew she wouldn’t be able to shun him for ever.
Andrea ushered in his patient and handed him the chart.
‘Hello, Mrs Craven. I’m Campbell Deane. Congratulations on your pregnancy. Twenty weeks already.’ He smiled and shook his patient’s hand, noting the area of darkened pigmentation across her face, which was common in pregnancy and caused by hormonal changes.
‘Call me Lex, please.’
‘So, you’re planning on having the baby here at St Jude’s,’ he said, flicking through the chart.
‘Yes, Dr Deane, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Please, call me Campbell.’ He’d never been comfortable with the blind reverence afforded to doctors. His mother had always taught him