Lisa was an excellent patient, though, and obviously keen to see her fifth child. Because within forty-five minutes of her first needing to push, her son slithered into Freya’s waiting hands.
She passed the baby to his sobbing mother, clamped and cut the cord, then helped Lisa into bed and wrapped a towel around her son to help keep him warm.
The baby cried—bursts of pure sound, a completely new person announcing his arrival. Freya smiled at the newly created family of seven and quietly gave Lisa the injection of syntocinon that would hasten delivery of the placenta, as per her patient’s request.
It seemed to take no time at all to deliver it, check it, assess the baby’s APGAR score, then Lisa’s, and realise that Lisa hadn’t torn at all. Her five-pound, twelve-ounce son had arrived perfectly.
There was no reason for Freya to stay at all. She prided herself on leaving her families to have some private time as soon as she could after the birth. So they could welcome and get to know their new baby on their own. But tonight she hesitated by the door.
‘Congratulations, you two.’
‘Thanks, Freya. I couldn’t have done it without you.’
‘Nonsense. You were a model patient.’ She smiled, trying to pluck up the courage to go out there and face him. That conversation.
She could only hope and pray that he was busy with a patient of his own.
But she had no such luck.
Jamie was just walking back to the hub desk, sliding his pen into his top pocket. His dark eyes instantly met hers. Challenged her. Demanded an explanation.
She almost faltered. But she had Lisa’s notes to finish writing up, and when that was done she needed to check on Andrea. She’d taken her off the trace a while ago and she’d been steadily contracting every five minutes the last time she’d seen her.
Jamie stood still as she walked past him, and she hoped he wouldn’t see that her nerves were making her hands tremble and shake as she sat down at the desk.
‘It’s not what you think.’ She glanced up at him, then away again. Dammit. He was just as handsome as she remembered. Even more so, this close. He was hauntingly beautiful.
Jamie sat down in the chair next to her. ‘What do I think?’
She paused, her pen over Lisa’s notes. ‘It belongs to a patient.’
‘A patient?’
‘Yes. I must have put it in my pocket without realising and—’
‘We don’t do pregnancy testing here. Mona was quite clear when she showed me around that the fertility clinic is in a whole other ward next to this one.’
She tried her hardest not to look at him. Not to meet the searing gaze that she knew would instantly divine the truth. If her cheeks could have flamed red, then they would.
She looked at him, guilt filling her eyes.
He gazed at her for a moment, his face deadly serious. ‘Tell me the truth. It’s yours?’
Her eyes closed, almost as if the admission would cause her pain. ‘Yes...’ A whisper.
‘Am I...?’
The words choked in his throat and she opened her eyes again in anguish. She hardly knew this man. He was a temp. A locum. A drifter. How could she tell this stranger that the baby in her womb was most definitely his? Because she didn’t sleep around. She never met anyone—never gave herself the chance to.
She didn’t need to get that kind of close to any man, to develop feelings for any man, because look at what had happened to her when she did. She’d suffered more than she’d ever believed it was possible for one body to suffer after getting involved with Mike. The pain she’d gone through, both emotionally and physically, had almost destroyed her.
She never wanted that again. Never wanted to risk it. Having that one night with Jamie—a stranger—had been a moment in which she’d thrown caution to the wind, feeling herself so physically attracted to the pirate she’d met at the ball that she’d decided she would risk it. Keeping her anonymity, she would never have to deal with him afterwards.
Because why shouldn’t she have slept with him? It was allowed, and it had felt so good to let all that other stuff go.
But they’d both been stupid. Believing that one night wouldn’t have consequences. Believing that they could walk away.
They should have known the risks.
They’d been wrong! And no one could be angrier with her than she was with herself.
She’d once sat on a hospital bed, with a plastic compression mask over her burnt features, and promised her mother that she would never get involved with another man ever again. Would never cause her family anguish ever again. Because what Mike had done—throwing that acid at her face—hadn’t just affected her. The tragedy had affected her family and even Mike’s family, who were distraught that their son was in prison.
And all because she’d got involved with him.
And now she was pregnant. With Jamie’s baby.
‘Yes. You’re the father.’
She saw him look down at the ground. Could almost hear the cogs going around in his skull, almost sense his thoughts as he tried to distance himself from her. Maybe even planned to leave this place. Get a temporary post somewhere else less complicated.
‘Right.’ A pause. ‘It’s very early on. Four...maybe five weeks?’
She nodded.
‘You need to start taking folic acid.’
‘I know.’
‘You need to look after yourself.’
She knew he was just trying to say the sensible thing, trying to help and maybe trying to make sense of it in his own head. This had to be a huge shock to him too. But to Freya it sounded as if he was telling her what to do, and no man would ever tell her what to do again.
Her control was slipping. ‘You don’t need to tell me how to do anything. You don’t own me.’
‘I’m not. I’m just trying—’
‘You’re just trying to take over! So back off, Jamie, I don’t need this in my life!’
She tried her hardest not to shout, but it was difficult. All she wanted to do was run away, but it was as if the walls were closing in and she would soon be trapped with him. A man. A stranger. Tied to him for eternity when she knew nothing about him. He could be anybody.
He sat forward in his chair. ‘You’re pregnant with my child. I don’t think you realise what this means.’
She leaned forward too, anger and rage fuelling her bravado, matching his stance. ‘I’m a midwife. Of course I know what it means.’
She stood, grabbing her notes and pen, deciding she would check on Andrea. She would finish her notes in there—give Jamie a chance to think about what she’d said.
He was not going to tell what to do.
* * *
He was going to be a father.
Of course if nothing went wrong they would have to marry. If the people of Majidar ever found out that he’d got a woman pregnant and then abandoned her to have the child alone they’d be appalled. And so would he. He wasn’t just a prince, he was a man, and as such he had a responsibility to do the right thing. No child of his would grow up to be illegitimate—he just wouldn’t accept it. The baby was his and he would be its father.
Honour in this country was different from honour in his. He saw it on the television every day—men getting women pregnant and then leaving them to raise the child alone. There were single parents everywhere,