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.
And when he hadn’t wanted her any more she’d almost died.
The reduced lighting and his low voice created an atmosphere of such intimacy that she felt the breath lodge in her throat. It was the cruellest reminder of what they’d once shared.
She had to remind herself that they were standing in a delivery room with a labouring woman and she was suddenly tempted to blow out the candles and turn on every fluorescent light in the room.
‘The foetal heart rate is good and she’s contracting regularly. No tachycardia or any other signs that her uterus is in any way compromised.’
Tom nodded. ‘Good.’