Midwife's Longed-for Baby & the Prince's Cinderella Bride & Bride for the Single Dad (9781488022142)

by Anderson, Caroline; Berlin, Amalie; Taylor, Jennifer

  ‘Don’t hold it in, Liv,’ he said, his voice rough with need. ‘There’s no one to hear you except me, and I want to know exactly what I’m doing to you.’

  ‘Nick, please…’

  She felt the tug as he suckled, the flick of his tongue with its unerring accuracy, and she sobbed his name helplessly as her body peaked and everything shattered all around her like shards of light.

  Then he was there, holding her in his arms, raining kisses on her face, his chest heaving against her.

  ‘I need you,’ he growled softly.

  Her hands ran over him, finding silk and cotton where there should have been skin, and she plucked at his shirt. ‘You’ve got too much on,’ she wailed.

  ‘So undress me,’ he said, pulling her to her feet, but the buttons were too much for her so he hauled the shirt over his head himself. It landed on the floor near her dress, followed by her bra, their shoes, his trousers and socks and last, his jersey boxers. Her hand closed over his straining erection and a groan shuddered against her hair.

  ‘Liv, no,’ he begged, and she moved her hands to his shoulders, stepping back and meeting those fierce, white-hot eyes.

  ‘I need you,’ she said, her fingers curling into his shoulders. ‘Please, Nick, I need you inside me—’

  And at last—at last—he was there, thrusting deeply into her, taking her so close and yet not quite…

  ‘Easy, Liv, easy. I won’t last—’

  ‘I don’t want you to last. I want you to come with me this time, please, please…’

  He drove into her then, every move of his body designed to wind her higher until she felt the starburst start again, spreading out and blinding her to everything but Nick.

  He caught her scream in his mouth, his body stiffening as a ragged groan tore through him, and then as the contractions in her body died away he dropped his head against her shoulder, his cheek resting against hers as their breathing slowed and their heart rates came slowly back to normal.

  Then he rolled to the side, taking her with him, their bodies still joined, and she opened her eyes and he was just there.

  His lashes had clumped together, and she lifted a hand and brushed a tear from his cheek.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she asked softly, and he smiled, but it was a pretty sketchy smile and he couldn’t stop the tears that leaked from his eyes and dribbled down onto her shoulder.

  ‘I’ve missed you so, so much,’ he said raggedly, and then she lost sight of him because her own tears flooded her vision, but she knew just where he was, and so she kissed him, and held him, and told him over and over that she loved him, until at last he fell asleep in her arms.

  * * *

  He woke in the night and made love to her again, but this time it was slow and lazy and tender, and they didn’t wake again until the light filtering through a gap in the curtains cut a bright swathe across their pillows and dragged them out of sleep.

  He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down into her eyes.

  ‘Good morning.’

  She smiled, a slow, contented smile that lit her eyes from within, and reached up a hand to touch his face. ‘I couldn’t agree more. It’s a very good morning.’

  ‘Mmm. I’m hoping it’s going to get even better.’ He lowered his head and kissed her gently, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching hugely.

  ‘Tea?’ he asked, and she nodded.

  ‘Lovely. Shall I just lie here while you wait on me?’

  ‘You can. I was going to put the kettle on and then shower.’

  ‘How big’s your shower cubicle?’ she asked, and he laughed and headed towards the bathroom.

  ‘Not big enough for what you’ve got in mind.’

  ‘You don’t know what I’ve got in mind.’

  ‘I’m sure I can have a fair stab at it. Just stay there a minute. I won’t be long.’

  He had the fastest shower on record, shaved—because he intended to kiss her a lot, lot more—then cleaned his teeth and left the bathroom to find her standing by the kettle humming softly to herself.

  He walked up behind her, slid his arms around her and cupped her breasts with his hands.

  ‘You’re all damp,’ she said.

  ‘Because I was in a hurry. The bathroom’s all yours. Don’t be long.’

  * * *

  Long?

  She didn’t wash her hair, because she wasn’t convinced the cabin had a hair dryer and anyway, she had much, much better things to do with the time, but she showered, borrowed his toothbrush and cleaned her teeth and went back out to find him propped up in the bed with two steaming mugs on the bedside table.

  ‘What kept you?’ he asked with a lazy smile, and she crawled across the bed to him and kissed the smile off his face.

  * * *

  ‘So what now?’

  It was much, much later. The tea had grown stone cold, and they’d showered again and put their clothes on, but although she might get away with the dress if they were to go out, the shoes were a bit of a giveaway.

  ‘Well, if we’re going to do anything other than lie in bed all day I probably need to go home and get a change of clothes. Shoes anyway.’

  ‘We could go for a walk along the river wall.’

  ‘We could. We used to love doing that.’

  ‘We did. Right, let’s go then, and see if you can get inside before Bert clocks you and asks what you were doing last night.’

  She laughed at that. It was so unlikely she didn’t even waste time worrying about it, but when they got to the house there was an ambulance outside Bert and Gwen’s.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Nick said, and got out of the car. ‘Liv, go and change and come back out. I’m going to see if they need help.’

  He ran round the end of the hedge and in through their front door, and she let herself in, tugged on yesterday’s jeans and jumper with a pair of flat pumps and went straight round to Bert and Gwen’s.

  She could hear them upstairs, and she ran up, calling Nick’s name.

  ‘In the front bedroom,’ Nick called, and she went in and found Bert on the floor with a paramedic holding his head steady while Nick massaged his carotid sinus.

  ‘He’s in SVT,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Can you look after Gwen and follow us to the hospital? I’m going in the ambulance with them but I’m just trying to get this to work first.’ She went over to Gwen who was standing to one side, her hands pressed to her mouth, and gave her a hug.

  ‘It’s OK, Gwen. He’s in good hands.’

  ‘Is he going to die?’ she asked, and Liv could feel her trembling violently.

  ‘I don’t think so. Let’s see if Nick can get this to work.’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘His heart’s started beating very fast. What Nick’s doing is stimulating the nerve beside his carotid artery, which sometimes gets the rhythm back to normal. It’s not hurting him, and it often works.’

  Just then Bert groaned, and Nick stopped and laid his fingers over the artery and nodded.

  ‘That’s got it. Hi, Bert, it’s Nick,’ he said calmly, taking the old man’s hand. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Tired. Chest feels really tight. Need my spray.’

  ‘He’s got angina,’ Gwen said, and she handed a GTN spray to Nick and then started to cry. ‘I thought he was dead,’ she whispered brokenly, turning her face into Liv’s shoulder for a moment until she’d recovered her composure.

  Liv found a box of tissues on the bedside table and handed one to her. ‘Here. Mop yourself up and give him a hug,’ she said softly. ‘He’s looking a better colour now. I expect they’ll take him to hospital soon and sort him out.’

  Gwen crumpled the tissue into a ball and crouched awkwardly d
own beside her husband, clutching his hand as Nick got to his feet and came over to Liv.

  ‘Well done, you,’ she said with a smile, and he pulled a face.

  ‘Thanks. I thought it was worth a shot.’

  ‘Definitely. Hadn’t they tried?’

  He shook his head. ‘They’d only just got here. Once I said I was a doctor they just stood back and let me get on with it.’

  ‘I’m so glad we came back.’

  ‘Me, too. Are you all right to drive?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. My head’s perfectly all right now, I just haven’t bothered. I’ll shut up the house with Gwen and follow you there.’

  * * *

  By the time they left the hospital it was almost one.

  ‘Lunch?’ Nick suggested, and she nodded.

  ‘How about the pub on the river? We could go for a walk along the river wall afterwards.’

  ‘Good idea. I’m starving.’

  They went back to the house to swap cars and for her to change her pumps for trainers, and they ate lunch outside on the terrace overlooking the river, basking in the glorious spring sunshine and watching the boats swing lazily on their moorings.

  ‘I could watch the river for ever.’

  ‘Me, too. Shall we stroll?’

  ‘Mmm. It might work off some of those gorgeous chips.’

  ‘Don’t work too many off. I rather like your new curves. It’s like having the old you back again.’

  ‘Well, ditto. You’d let yourself get flabby.’

  ‘Flabby?’ he said, sounding disgusted, and she laughed.

  ‘Well, not flabby, that’s going a bit far, but certainly not as toned and luscious as you are now.’

  ‘Hmm. I like luscious better than flabby.’

  ‘Me, too. I might have to check out your lusciousness again later.’

  ‘Only if I can check out your curves.’

  She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘Be my guest. But maybe not here or now.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘SO WHERE ARE we spending the night?’ he asked later when they were back at the house. ‘Here, after we eat, or in the cabin?’

  ‘I rather like the cabin,’ she said, but then she frowned as they heard a car drive up, pause for a moment and then drive away after the door slammed, and she went to the window and saw Gwen letting herself in next door.

  ‘Gwen’s back. Should we offer her supper?’

  Nick gave a wry smile. ‘That would be nice—and if she’s back, we really ought to be here. I don’t like the thought of her on her own.’

  Liv tipped her head on one side and stared at him. ‘They drive you mad!’

  He laughed ruefully and pulled her into his arms. ‘I know, but they’re harmless and he looked such a poor old boy, I just—they’ve been married for ever, Liv. What must it feel like to know you’re getting near the end and one or other of you is going to go first? They’d be lost without each other.’

  ‘I was lost without you,’ she said, tipping her head back and meeting his eyes. ‘So lost.’

  ‘Me, too, but I’m back now, Liv, and I’m staying.’

  ‘Good. And I know it won’t necessarily be easy, but we can make this work, Nick.’

  ‘Yeah. You’re right. And if it gets tough, we’ll just have to bite the bullet.’

  ‘Wasn’t that what people in the trenches used to do before their legs were amputated without anaesthetic?’

  He laughed and drew her into his arms. ‘I’m hoping it won’t go that badly wrong,’ he said, and then his mouth found hers and feathered a gentle kiss on her lips.

  She looked up at him. ‘So are you going to apply for the job?’

  ‘Yes. Definitely. And I’ll move back in here.’

  ‘Sure?’

  He kissed her again. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘Even with Bert and Gwen watching our every move?’

  ‘Even so.’

  She felt the smile bloom in her heart and spread to her face. ‘Good. Let’s go and talk to Gwen and find out how he is.’

  * * *

  He moved back in the following day, while she was at work on a late shift, and when she got home that evening the light was on in his study.

  It hadn’t been on to welcome her home for so long, and her heart was filled with the sort of deep happiness and contentment that she’d only ever felt in their first years together.

  There was only one thing missing, and she was used to that by now and it didn’t dent her happiness.

  He must have heard her car because he opened the front door, shut it behind her and pulled her into his arms.

  ‘Welcome home, Mrs Jarvis,’ he murmured, and it had never sounded so good.

  * * *

  He’d been working on his CV, he told her, and the next day he applied for the job, went through the formal interview process a fortnight later and found her in the ward office afterwards.

  He pushed the door shut and let out a long, slow breath.

  ‘God, that was tough. Ben really grilled me.’

  ‘That was mean.’

  ‘No, it was fair. They had a couple of very good candidates and the hospital seems to be able to attract them. This department’s got a great reputation. I just hope I’ve done enough.’

  She got up from the desk and hugged him. ‘Of course you have. And if not, we’ll go elsewhere. I don’t care where I am so long as I’m with you.’

  ‘What about our friends?’

  She shrugged. ‘We can make new friends. There’s only one friend I’m really bothered about and that’s you. Come on, let’s go and get lunch, I’m starving. I’ve been waiting for you because we’ve got a lull, which means all hell’s going to break loose later, so let’s make the most of it.’

  * * *

  ‘There’s a second interview round,’ he told her the next day as he checked his phone over breakfast.

  ‘Really?’ Liv felt her stomach tighten, and she pushed away her cereal. ‘Did you know that was on the cards?’

  He shrugged and put his phone away. ‘It was always a possibility. Oh, Liv, I hate this uncertainty.’

  ‘It’s only a job. There’ll be others—and anyway, I’m still sure you’ll get it,’ she lied, her stomach in knots. ‘I need to go, I’m due at work in a minute.’

  ‘You haven’t finished your breakfast.’

  ‘No, I know. I’m not hungry yet, it’s too early.’ And she was way too stressed to worry about food. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  The second interview was in three days, he told her later, and by the time it arrived they were both living on their nerves. The only thing that made it all go away was the time they spent together at night, when the lights were off and everything was quiet and she was in his arms.

  Sometimes they talked, sometimes they made love, sometimes they just held each other, and in those times everything that was wrong seemed to right itself.

  He got through the second interview, but that night he told her it was worse than the first and he was beginning to doubt Ben’s friendship.

  ‘Of course he’s still a friend. He just has to be your boss, too—he’s the clinical lead and he’s way too ethical to do anything other than give everyone the same treatment. You can be sure he was every bit as mean to them.’

  ‘He wasn’t mean, he just asked some really tricky questions—what would you do in this or that circumstance, that kind of thing. Really tricky cases where there’s no definitive answer, and your brain just goes to mush.’

  ‘I’m sure yours didn’t,’ she told him comfortingly, but the tension was getting to her and she wasn’t sure she could stand the wait much longer. ‘When will they let you know?’

  ‘Ben said a couple of days, perhaps? I got
the feeling the board were divided.’

  She was off the next day, and because Nick was at work and she had to do something to keep herself sane, she went into her little study upstairs—the nursery that had never been needed—and settled herself down at the desk to read up on hypnosis as a form of pain relief in labour, but she couldn’t concentrate.

  Stress? Or an after-effect of her concussion? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t working, so she went downstairs, put the kettle on and reached for the instant coffee, then pulled a face.

  She just didn’t fancy coffee. Or tea, come to that. Or food. No, that wasn’t true. There were some things she couldn’t get enough of, like chocolate. And pasta. She could eat mountains of pasta and pesto. Maybe she was just hungry.

  Or maybe she just needed to know what on earth was happening in their lives, and where their future lay?

  She went for a walk, popped into the little local supermarket for some more bread and pasta and heading for the till she felt the blood drain from her head, and reached out and grabbed a nearby shelf. She’d walked down the aisle with personal products—feminine hygiene, condoms, pregnancy tests…

  Pregnancy tests?

  They were right there, in front of her. She’d bought countless numbers of them in that dreadful time, but she’d always done the test before her period was due, and if she’d only waited she would have had her answer for nothing.

  But she’d lost track, between Nick coming back and her accident and the job thing. She’d had one period, but that had been weeks ago.

  More than four?

  Her fingers shaking, she reached for a packet, put it in her basket next to the bread and pasta and went to the till.

  * * *

  ‘Liv?’

  She must be out, he thought, and ran upstairs to change—and stopped dead.

  Lying on the bed was the open packet of a pregnancy test.

  His mouth dried and he felt sick. God, no. Not back to this again.

  He changed into jeans and a thin T-shirt and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the open packet as if it was a bomb.

  Why? They’d agreed on the rules—no trying, no thinking about it, no worrying, just accept that it wasn’t going to happen for them without help and not until they were ready, but—no. She couldn’t do that, and suddenly he wondered if she really loved him, really wanted him, or if it had just been a way of getting him back so she could use him as a stud, a sperm donor.