Robin Gianna

The Prince And The Midwife


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much as it rankled a bit, since she was used to either delivering babies on her own or being part of a team with the obstetrician, she managed to let him answer instead.

      “I have already spoken to the anesthesiologist, as I know you want to be as comfortable as possible,” he said in that soothing voice that was also, damn it, incredibly sexy. “Now that we know you’re dilated enough to receive the pain relief, we’ll get the anesthesiologist here pronto.”

      He turned the power of his smile on Gabby, and she had to admit to a warmth filling her chest that he’d included her with the “we” word. Though why she should care if he did or didn’t give her that lip service, she had no clue.

      “Gabriella, would you please ask Dr. Smith to come now?”

      “Yes, Dr. Moreno.”

      “Please, call me Rafael. You and Cameron and I are all friends trusting one another here to bring baby into the world, yes?”

      “Um, yes.” No. Not friends. Colleagues. Co-workers. But that simple word—friends—made her chest feel warmer even as it contracted with pain as she went to phone the doctor. Her last relationship had taught her that counting on true friendship and closeness with a man was a mistake. That trust was a mirage. An elusive shimmer of light that could disintegrate and disappear in an instant when times got tough.

      Briefly closing her eyes, she willed away the hurt, stuffing it down into the deep, dark corner where it usually resided, until unexpected moments like this dragged it to the surface. But this moment wasn’t about her past. This moment was about helping a mother who would soon hold a new life in her arms, a precious child she obviously wanted with all her heart.

      Tears unexpectedly stung her eyes, and she angrily swiped them aside. She delivered babies for a living, and usually felt nothing but joy for the new parents, new families. So what was it about this moment, this delivery that was bringing memories to the surface that were better left behind?

      The question made her wonder if, somehow, some way, for some bizarre reason, it was Rafael’s presence that was making her feel so strange. But, of course, that made no sense. She didn’t even know him. Didn’t want to.

      She kept her life simple. Worked a lot of hours, taking on as many double shifts as possible. Went out with friends occasionally, but that was pretty much it. Could it be that after such a long time of keeping to herself, being around an exceptionally attractive man, annoying or not, had her neglected hormones all charged up or something?

      Yes. That had to be it. And knowing that was all it was helped her get her equilibrium back. Time to quit thinking and remembering and start working. She quickly contacted the anesthesiologist, then headed back to Cameron’s room.

      “You checked Cameron for her group B beta strep culture, yes?” Rafael asked from his position by Cameron’s bedside, holding her hand the way she would have, in a way she couldn’t remember ever seeing an OB interact with a patient.

      “I did. Status was uncertain, so I gave her a second dose of antibiotics in case it’s an issue.”

      “Good.” He nodded and stood, and Gabby found herself fixated on the way his broad shoulders and chest filled out his scrubs, how his tanned forearms looked more like they belonged to an athlete than a man who caught babies for a living. Thankfully, her inappropriate perusal was interrupted as Dr. Smith strode in. Face heating, she turned away, hoping to heck no one had noticed her staring.

      The doctors shook hands before the anesthesiologist introduced himself to their patient. “Cameron, I promise I’m not going far, just giving Dr. Smith and Gabriella some room,” Rafael said. “I’m sure Dr. Smith will take good care of you, and of course you are in Gabriella’s excellent hands as well. See you shortly, okay?”

      And Gabby sure as heck needed a little space and a breather from Rafael Moreno. She did her darnedest to focus on only Cameron, but as he walked by her she found it impossible to not be aware of the pull of his green eyes, the angular shape of his smooth, golden features, and the sheer masculine force of his presence.

      To cover up her confusion over this odd discomfort, she nearly asked tartly if it was okay for her to do an internal exam now, but resisted the urge. She was pretty certain that antagonizing him would just ratchet up this peculiar sizzle between them, and whether it was animosity or something else, Gabby wasn’t sure anymore.

      Rafael left her to monitor Cameron’s labor progress and take care of her, checking in only occasionally, which Gabby was glad about on more than one level. She couldn’t deny feeling pleased that he’d obviously come to trust she knew what she was doing, then inwardly scolded herself for that. He should have assumed she was competent at her job, not the other way around, especially knowing James Rothsberg and what he demanded of everyone who worked at the clinic he’d founded.

      Rafael not hovering around the room, monitoring everything she did, was another good thing, though why she kept finding him so distracting she had no idea. The man was an expert at turning his charm on and off at will.

      “How long is this going to take, for heaven’s sake? I thought she was coming soon.” Cameron’s voice had gotten steadily more frustrated as her contractions got closer together, and Gabby prayed for both their sakes she was close to being ready to push.

      “Your baby has a mind of her own already, Cameron, doesn’t she?” she said, keeping her voice light. “First she’s in a hurry, then she takes her time.” A bit like her mother. “The good news is her heart rate looks perfect on the monitor. Let me check your dilation again. Looks like the epidural is keeping you comfortable, isn’t it?”

      “I guess. If you can call starving to death comfortable.” Cameron sighed dramatically as she crunched another of the tiny round ice cubes Gabby had replaced in her cup three times now. “You’d think that with modern medicine, giving birth could be completely pain-free.”

      “A few decades back, women were given morphine and scopolamine to put them into a twilight sleep. They’d hallucinate, then not remember the birth at all afterwards. I don’t know about you, but I’d want to remember forever the moment my baby arrived in this world.”

      It wasn’t the kind of memory she’d wish on anyone, but it was still hers. To rail against, to shrink from, to cherish.

      She could see him as clearly as if he were even now in her arms. Stillborn. One simple word that perfectly described a lifeless infant.

      Motionless. Quiet. Angelic and beautiful.

      Every detail of that day was burned into her very soul. And she prayed it wasn’t a memory Cameron would ever have to share.

      “I suppose,” Cameron said grudgingly. “So, how many centimeters dilated am I?”

      Grateful for the distraction, Gabby checked and was surprised and more than happy at what she found. “Guess what? You’re at ten centimeters and fully effaced. Time for baby to come into the world.”

      “Oh, my gosh—really? Don’t you need to call Rafael? What if she comes out before he gets here?”

      Gabby wanted to remind Cameron that she was a qualified midwife, fully capable of delivering a baby on her own, but managed to keep her mouth shut. Besides, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she kind of wanted to see Rafael at work. “I’ll give him a call right now.”

      “No need. I’m here,” a deep voice said, and Gabby glanced up to see Rafael looking relaxed yet wired, obviously ready to get to work. “I had a feeling your little bebé had finally made up her mind.”

      “That’s because you and I are simpatico, don’t you think? How much longer?”

      “Time to be the strong woman you are and get pushing with the next contraction, sí?”

      Cameron nodded, and Gabby was surprised at how quickly her next contraction came. Rafael was calmly encouraging as long minutes passed, stretching into a half hour, with their patient becoming more frustrated and impatient with each push.

      “My