The Midwife's Marriage Proposal

by Sarah Morgan

  The moment she’d said the words she wished she hadn’t. She wasn’t a doctor and the woman’s GP had diagnosed a chest infection. What reason did she have to doubt him?

  She waited stiffly for Tom to dismiss her assessment of the patient but he didn’t. Instead, his gaze fixed on hers intently.

  ‘Why do you think it’s cardiac?’

  ‘Because she’s coughing up clear, frothy sputum, she has tachycardia and she’s describing pleuritic chest pain,’ Sally said immediately. ‘I think she’s showing signs of pulmonary oedema. I’ve seen it before. I’m wondering whether she has rheumatic heart disease.’

  ‘You’ve seen it before?’ Tom frowned. ‘Mitral stenosis in British women is pretty rare.’

  ‘She was born in Pakistan and I saw several similar cases when I was working in a clinic there. It seems to be more common in Asian women. I have a bad feeling about her.’

  Tom didn’t hesitate. ‘So let’s go and see her together and if necessary we’ll get the cardiologists involved. Did anyone listen to her heart when she booked?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s nothing in the notes.’

  ‘I’ll just grab a stethoscope and I’ll meet you in the room.’

  Mrs Singh was coughing again when Tom walked into the room and Sally felt her heart skip a beat.

  What if she was wrong?

  What if it was just a simple chest infection that hadn’t cleared with the antibiotics?

  Perhaps she was being over-dramatic.

  Tom questioned the couple carefully and then listened to the woman’s chest, his face expressionless as he concentrated on the sounds.

  Finally he straightened. ‘I want to run a few more tests, Mrs Singh,’ he said calmly. ‘I want you to have a chest X-ray and an echocardiogram, and I’m going to ask the cardiologist to come and see you straight away. I think the problem may be your heart rather than your lungs. I just need to talk to my colleague while Sally arranges for your X-ray, and then we’ll talk again.’

  Sally followed him out of the room and across to the desk.

  ‘It’s OK for her to have an X-ray?’ Sally put the form under his nose and he scribbled on it quickly.

  ‘She’s in her third trimester so it’s fine. And it’s essential that we see what’s going on.’

  ‘But you do think it is her heart?’

  ‘If you’re asking whether I think you’re clever, the answer is yes, Sally Jenner.’ He dropped the pen back on the desk and gave a crooked smile. ‘Very clever. Cleverer than the GP who has been treating her for a chest infection.’

  ‘Well, I’ve probably seen more cases than he has,’ Sally said practically, opening the phone book and sticking it under his nose. ‘As you say, it isn’t such a common problem in this country. I suppose you want to call the cardiologist. I’m afraid I don’t know who he is. I haven’t been here long enough to find out.’

  ‘It’s a she,’ Tom said immediately, something flickering in his blue eyes, ‘and her name is Chantal Mornington. She’s half-French.’

  And Tom liked her. That much was obvious.

  Not liking the feeling of jealousy that stabbed through her, Sally forced a smile. ‘Are you going to call her or shall I?’

  ‘I’ll call her and talk to her about the echo—you sort out the chest X-ray. I want to see that before I speak to Chantal.’

  Wondering just what Chantal Mornington was to Tom, Sally made the necessary arrangements and stayed with Mrs Singh while she went to X-ray.

  Tom was waiting for the films when she arrived back on the unit. She handed them over and he examined them in silence, his expression intent.

  ‘Well?’ Sally glanced at him expectantly and he stirred.

  ‘She has an enlarged left atrium and some shadowing here …’ He tapped with his pen, and then glanced over his shoulder with a smile as an elegant, dark-haired woman walked up to the desk. ‘Chantal. Thanks for coming.’

  ‘As if I’d refuse. You’re one of the few of my colleagues who doesn’t waste my time.’ Her voice was smoky and seductive and Sally felt as though she’d stepped naked into a mountain stream.

  There was no mistaking the beautiful cardiologist’s feelings for Tom and, judging from the warmth in his eyes, he wasn’t exactly immune either.

  ‘We seem to have a case of pulmonary oedema due to mitral stenosis,’ he said, and Chantal stepped closer, her body brushing against his as she took a closer look at the X-ray.

  ‘I’ve seen one or two similar cases in my career,’ she said smoothly, ‘but it’s actually quite rare in this country now. You did well to spot it, Tom.’

  Her dark eyes glowed with approval and invitation and Tom smiled down at her before turning briefly to Sally.

  ‘Actually, Sally was the one who picked it up,’ he said easily. ‘She’s worked in Pakistan and she’s seen it before in young Asian women. Very smart of her.’

  ‘Indeed.’ The cardiologist’s eyes slid to Sally and then away again, dismissing her as unimportant.

  ‘You’ll want to do an echo, of course,’ Tom said, ‘and I suppose we ought to start her on beta-blockers.’

  They spoke about the management for a few minutes, their heads close together, and Sally decided it was time to remind them that she existed.

  ‘Why beta-blockers?’

  Tom dragged his gaze away from the beautiful cardiologist. ‘Because as her heart rate increases so her stroke volume falls, and that puts increasing pressure on the left atrium,’ he explained. ‘All of those effects can be reversed by the use of beta-blockers.’

  ‘That’s why I like working with you,’ Chantal said huskily, removing the X-ray from the light box and slipping it into its cover. ‘Very few obstetricians understand even the most basic principles of cardiology. We’ll move her to CCU, do the echo and see if she’s suitable for a balloon valvuloplasty. Are you happy with her from an obstetric point of view?’

  ‘For the time being.’ Tom nodded. ‘We’ll want to monitor the baby, obviously.’

  ‘You know you’re always welcome on my unit,’ Chantal murmured silkily. ‘Are you going to argue with me if I start her on diuretics?’

  ‘I’d be uneasy.’ Tom frowned. ‘Hypovolaemia will reduce the placental blood flow and that could have a detrimental effect on the foetus.’

  Chantal smiled. ‘In that case, I’ll assess the degree of pulmonary congestion and talk to you before I do anything. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed.’ He smiled. ‘Thanks, Chantal.’

  Resisting the temptation to grind her teeth, Sally excused herself and went back to tell Mrs Singh what was happening, trying hard not to analyse her feelings.

  Why should she care if Chantal Mornington clearly had a serious crush on Tom?

  And why should she care if those feelings were reciprocated?

  The guy was bound to have a love life of some sort, and they were welcome to each other.

  She really didn’t care.

  So why did she suddenly feel so crushed?

  Trying hard to pull herself together, she helped transfer Mrs Singh to CCU and then returned to the labour ward.

  ‘Grab a cup of coffee while it’s quiet,’ Emma suggested, and Sally gave a nod and made her way to the staffroom.

  She stopped dead when she saw Tom sprawled in one of the armchairs. He was scanning a medical journal and nursing a cup of coffee. He glanced up and saw her and his blue gaze was suddenly warm.

  ‘Hello, there.’ He uncoiled his length and stood up, dropping the journal on the coffee-table. ‘Can I pour you a coffee?’

  She was tempted to refuse but she didn’t want him questioning her reaction so she nodded instead, forcing herself to walk into the room. ‘Black, please. No sugar.’

  He reached for a mug and filled it. ‘So you came across pulmonary oedema in Pakistan?’

  She took the mug. ‘Thanks, and to answer your question, yes, I did. The medical workers seemed to think that mitral valve disease was on the increase. We had a few women who came in w
ith problems in their pregnancy.’

  Tom nodded. ‘The rise in cardiac output puts a tremendous stress on the heart. Patients can often deteriorate suddenly and unexpectedly, and if a diagnosis isn’t made quickly enough, the consequences are serious.’

  Sally sipped her coffee. ‘I certainly saw a couple of cases similar to Mrs Singh’s. Do you think she’ll be OK?’

  ‘Who knows?’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘But Chantal Mornington is an excellent cardiologist.’

  ‘Yes. I could see that you had quite a mutual appreciation society going on,’ Sally said tartly, and then wished she hadn’t spoken as he turned amused blue eyes in her direction.

  ‘Meaning?’

  She shrugged, cursing herself for making such an impulsive remark. ‘Nothing.’

  He was silent for a moment and then he put his coffee-mug down on the table and leaned towards her, his gaze searching.

  ‘If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, I could say that you’re being ridiculous—’ his voice was soft ‘—or I could say that I’m pleased that you are jealous.’

  She stiffened. ‘I’m not jealous.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. There’s nothing between us any more, Tom. You’re perfectly entitled to see anyone you like.’

  And she was going to do the same.

  Any day now she was going to meet someone.

  ‘That’s a lie.’

  ‘You think you need my permission to date?’

  He was silent for a moment and when he spoke his voice had lost all traces of humour. ‘There’s only one woman I intend to date and I’m looking at her.’

  For a few, frantic beats her heart suddenly lost its natural rhythm. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘I’m perfectly serious. And if you’re about to pretend that there’s nothing between us, I ought to warn you that you’re wasting your time. It’s been there from the moment we met and it will always be there.’

  She stood up so abruptly that the chair scraped on the floor. ‘Just in case you need reminding, we’ve been here before, Tom, and it didn’t work. And now I need to get back to work.’

  ‘I know I hurt you badly,’ he said softly, ‘but it was a long time ago and we’ve both changed, Sally.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Fortunately we have both changed. I’m no longer stupid enough to fall in love with a man who doesn’t want that love. I’m not making that mistake again.’

  He flinched and rose to his feet, walking round the table towards her. ‘The only mistake was mine. But at the time I thought I was making the right decision. You were so young, Sally—’

  ‘No!’ She raised a hand to keep him at a distance. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuses when the truth is that I just didn’t fit into your agenda at the time.’

  He looked at her, a tiny muscle flickering in his jaw. ‘So you’re truly pretending that there’s nothing between us?’

  ‘I don’t need to pretend. I know.’

  He took a step closer to her, his voice low and husky. ‘You don’t feel anything when I walk into a room?’

  Her heart was thumping so hard she was surprised he couldn’t see it. ‘Nothing at all.’

  ‘Right.’

  She had a brief glimpse of burning blue eyes and a devil’s smile and then his hand slid round the back of her neck and his mouth came down on hers.

  Her soft gasp of shock turned to a moan as he took what he wanted. His kiss was all fire and heat and he held her head still with one strong hand as his mouth stole and plundered. With the erotic probe of his tongue he robbed her of breath and willpower, and with the brush of his lips he took her power of speech.

  White heat exploded through her body and she placed a hand on his chest, feeling the hardness of muscle and the throb of his heart. Her body was screaming for more and she gave a tiny sob of protest as he dragged his mouth from hers, his breathing unsteady.

  For a long, sexually charged moment neither of them spoke.

  Neither of them was able to speak.

  And then his hand dropped from her head, thick dark lashes shielding the expression in his blue eyes as he looked down at her. ‘Seven years ago I made a mistake, Sally. But I’m not making that same mistake a second time. I’m coming after you.’ His voice was very male and very sexy. ‘And no matter how fast you run, I’m going to catch you. And once I’ve caught you, I’m never letting you go.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE call out came in the middle of the night but Sally hadn’t slept.

  She’d lain awake, staring into the darkness, thinking of that kiss.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Nature had it all wrong. It shouldn’t be possible to respond to someone who had caused such emotional trauma.

  The body should have some inbuilt self-preservation mechanism that prevented it from feeling passion for the wrong person.

  And Tom Hunter was definitely the wrong person.

  She lifted the receiver on the second ring, her voice gruff with tiredness. ‘Hello?’

  It was Sean, the mountain rescue team leader, telling her about a call out.

  Sally sat up in bed and stifled a yawn. ‘I’ll meet you at the base as soon as I can. I’ll have to cycle.’

  Sean’s voice was clear and crisp down the phone. ‘Tom will pick you up. He’s already on his way.’

  Remembering his promise that he was coming after her, Sally’s heart skipped a beat.

  He obviously hadn’t lost any time in looking for opportunities for being alone with her.

  She ended her conversation with Sean, dressed quickly and made herself a piece of toast while she waited for the sound of Tom’s car.

  Then she told herself firmly that the pleasure of the kiss wasn’t worth the pain of a relationship. There was no way she’d put herself in that position again.

  He’d ended it once before, he could end it again.

  By the time he arrived she had herself firmly in hand. She reached for her coat, locked the door to the cottage and met him before he’d even stopped the car.

  ‘Thanks for the lift. It saved me some time.’ She gave him a cool smile and then gasped as he reached for her and pulled her against him.

  His mouth found hers in a kiss that was as brief as it was devastating.

  Her head spun and heat flared low in her pelvis.

  ‘Something on account for later,’ he said roughly, releasing her before she had the satisfaction of pulling away.

  She sat in frozen silence, dealing with the sudden race of her heart and the spread of warmth through her body.

  He glanced at her, amusement in his blue eyes. ‘You’d better put your seat belt on. The roads might be icy.’

  Hating herself for responding to him and hating him even more for noticing, she did as he’d instructed, her hands shaking slightly as she fastened the seat belt.

  She was going to ignore it.

  She was going to pretend that both kisses had never happened.

  ‘Do we know what this call out is all about?’ She tugged her blonde hair into a ponytail and then wedged it neatly under a fleece hat.

  ‘Two kids were seen walking up on the ridge just before sunset. They haven’t returned and there have been several reports of flashing lights.’

  ‘Right.’ Sally was twisting this way and that, pulling on different pieces of clothing and generally getting herself ready for freezing weather. ‘Are we using a dog team?’

  He nodded. ‘Ellie is bringing Max.’

  Sally frowned. ‘Isn’t it a bit soon? Bryony tells me that Ellie only had her baby a couple of months ago.’

  ‘The baby is fine. Ben is staying with him.’

  Sally glanced at him. ‘I gather you were a bit of a hero. You sectioned Ellie.’

  His hands tightened on the wheel. ‘She had a car accident in the last month of her pregnancy. Her placenta came away—it was an emergency. Stop changing the subject. I’m not going to let you ignore it, Sally.’
>
  Her heart skipped a beat at his swift change of subject. ‘Ignore what?’

  ‘The fact that the temperature rises when we’re within touching distance, the fact that when I kiss you, you still want me as much as I want you.’ He glanced across at her, his blue gaze glittering in the semi-darkness. ‘Whether you like it or not, that kiss proved something.’

  ‘It proved that you still know how to kiss a woman.’ She kept her tone light. ‘That’s all it proved. Glad to know you haven’t lost your touch, Tom.’

  He swore under his breath and turned into the car park of the mountain rescue base. ‘We can’t talk about this now.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it at all,’ she muttered, undoing her seat belt and opening the car door before he’d even put the handbrake on. ‘And if you’re coming after me, Tom Hunter, you’d better be fit.’

  She’d slammed the door and was across the car park before he had time to answer.

  * * *

  ‘We know who they are now,’ Sean told everyone as they gathered in the briefing room. ‘James Knight and his friend Lester Roberts. James’s mother called us five minutes ago and said that they’d been missing since teatime. Apparently there was a huge family row—she wouldn’t say what about and she didn’t contact the police before now because she thought James would come home.’

  ‘So how do we know they’re the same kids who were seen on the ridge?’ Tom zipped up his jacket and reached for his rucksack.

  ‘Because, when James didn’t come home, his mother searched his room and found all his walking gear missing. Then she called Lester’s mother and discovered that he was gone, too. They’re assuming that they’ve gone into the hills.’

  ‘And she didn’t say what the row was about?’ Sally looked at Sean and he shook his head.

  ‘She’s obviously hideously embarrassed about all the fuss. And I don’t suppose any family likes washing their dirty laundry in public. She didn’t want to go into detail and I didn’t see the point of asking. A row is a row. The kid’s gone. We need to find him. And the friend he dragged along with him.’

  ‘But it might be important,’ Sally began, and Sean nodded.