Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe

An almost subliminal scent tantalized Jason’s nostrils. Heather must have arrived for her tour of the new clinic. His subconscious made the connection even before he saw her.

“Hello, Dr. Rourke. How’s everything going with you?” Edith asked the smaller woman hovering outside in the hall.

“Fine. It’s good to see you.” Briskly, Heather came inside.

An auburn curl straggling along one cheek was the only sign of weariness despite what must have been a long day. Having shed her white coat, she wore a dark skirt and a tailored beige blouse that, in spite of some discreet tucks, sketched her generous curves.

Jason tore his gaze away. He had the uncomfortable sense that both women had noticed where he was looking.

“We’re going to check out the clinic,” he told Edith. “Care to join us?”

Meaningfully, her chocolate eyes fixed on Heather and him in turn. “Like my mother used to say, three’s a crowd,” said the nurse. “Right now, this office is so small, I can hardly breathe. Guess I’d better go make sure the Records Department has sent over those patients’ charts for next week. I know how you hate inefficiency.” Fanning herself with one hand, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

Heather’s cheeks turned an appealing pink. “She’s not very subtle, I’m afraid.”

“About what?” Faced with potential embarrassment, Jason had learned that the best response was to pretend you didn’t get the point.

“Forget it.” She brushed a speck of lint off her blouse, seemingly unaware of how the action emphasized the shape beneath the clothing. Jason struggled to keep his breathing regular.

From the moment they’d met, during registration at a convention hotel in Atlanta, he’d felt the same powerful pull toward her. He found it hard to believe that, even jet-lagged and having consumed a couple of drinks, he’d blacked out as quickly as Heather claimed. Not with such a powerful yearning coursing through him.

Something had happened that night. Jason felt like an idiot for not being able to remember, but that was no excuse for her keeping him in the dark. Heather’s earring hadn’t landed in his bed by remote control.

Even though it might take a while to pry out the information, he was determined to get an answer. How he responded once he got it would depend on what he learned.

“I’ll buy you a cup of coffee at the kiosk on the way over.” Jason opened the door for her. “Unless you’ve had too much caffeine today.”

“There’s no such thing in this profession. Now that you mention it, if I don’t get some more, I may keel over.” Heather was so short, she walked under his outstretched arm and cleared it by an inch.

With hardly any effort, Jason could have drawn her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. Rejecting the image, he decided he needed that coffee even more than she did.

Chapter Two

Heather had avoided the first floor of the East Wing since the remodeling began, due to the noise, the sawdust in the air and the hazards of trying to make her way through construction clutter. With Jason as her guide, however, she found herself fascinated.

The work had progressed much further than she’d realized, transforming the area formerly leased to an outside group of pediatricians. The altered layout of the walls showed Heather a state-of-the-art facility, with examining rooms and surgical suites plus an extensive laboratory where they’d be able to offer in vitro fertilization and the whole alphabet soup of new technologies.

In a few short decades, medicine had surpassed what science fiction had proposed when Heather was in high school. In addition to egg donations and embryo transfers, researchers had developed such exotic procedures as AH, or assisted hatching, in which a small opening was etched in the outer coating of the early embryo to help it implant in the womb.

The pace of research had intensified to the point where Heather spent her free time catching up on medical journals, reading research papers and attending conferences. No matter what people thought, she was grateful to have Jason on staff with his advanced training and experience.

She was less grateful for the man’s overwhelming physical presence, not to mention the impulsive way he picked her up and lifted her over a row of boxes blocking her path. His large hands proved surprisingly gentle on her waist, the thumbs clamping lightly across her rib cage, the fingers nudging the skin below her breasts.

Ripples of desire flowed through her, speeding up Heather’s breathing and spurring a sharp, Technicolor memory.

When he caught her nipples in his mouth, heat slammed into her, so intense it was almost painful. Lying on the hotel bed, Heather caressed his thick, black hair with a sense of delicious disbelief. She’d only met this man today. What was she doing? And how many times could they do it again during a three-day convention?

“The director’s office is this way.” Jason, seemingly unaffected after lifting her, led the way past the examining rooms. “You can pick which of the other offices you’d prefer.”

“I’ll take one as far from yours as possible.” Had she said that aloud? Heather managed a smile. “I’m kidding, of course.”

“It’s up to you.” Surely that was studied indifference on Jason’s handsome face, not the real thing, she thought, then wondered why she cared.

They stepped through an anteroom into his future office, which consisted of bare walls, rough wooden flooring and a curtainless window. From against the baseboards, Jason hoisted a couple of sketches washed with pastels.

“Dr. Barr asked what I thought of his commissioning a mural for the hall, a motif that would carry through the examining rooms.” He handed her the samples. “Here’s what the designer is proposing. What do you think?”

The artist had a clever touch with babies, Heather mused as she examined the drawings. Each sketch showed a lively youngster, its face alight with precocious emotions. Rounded and full of life, the infants nearly leaped off the paper and into her arms. They reminded her of some photographs her friend Amy Ravenna Ladd, Doctors Circle’s resident psychologist, had installed in her office.

“From your expression, I gather you like them,” Jason said.

“They’re marvelous.” Heather held them up, trying to imagine how they might figure into a mural. “Still, some patients find it painful to be constantly reminded of the babies they can’t have.”

“Maybe we should post drawings of ancient fertility symbols,” he teased.

“I suspect they’d prefer male movie stars,” she said drily. “That ought to put them in a fertile mood.” Although she didn’t intend to tell him so, she doubted anyone was going to need pictures of movie stars with Dr. Jason Carmichael around.

“Some of our patients are men,” he pointed out.

“I’ll allow a few photos of beautiful women,” Heather said, adding, “In the men’s bathroom.”

“Whatever you’ve been doing until now, I was impressed by the statistics on your success rate,” Jason said. “Of course, even if I hadn’t read the documents, I could tell just by looking around Doctors Circle. There seem to be a lot of pregnant staff members.”

Heather handed the sketches back to him. “I don’t deserve all the credit. Some women manage fine by themselves.”

“I noticed that your nurse is pregnant,” Jason said. “Isn’t she uncomfortable, working so close to her due date?”

“She wants to save as much leave as possible for after the twins are born,” Heather admitted. “Since she’s a single mom…” She stopped, not wanting to reveal more of Cynthia’s situation than necessary.

“I see.” Jason frowned. “As the single mother of two infants, she could have a hard time keeping up with your schedule. Perhaps she and the father will prefer that she switch to a less rigorous schedule.”

“The father’s out of the picture entirely.” She pressed her lips together, not wanting to say anything further.

“I’m sorry to hear it, for everyone’s sake.” He shook his head. “She’s going to be exhausted and distracted. If she starts making mistakes that affect patient care, she’ll have to be transferred.”

“She’ll be fine.” Heather wasn’t sure why she bristled at his tone, since she shared the same concerns. But after providing excellent assistance for several years, Cynthia had earned her loyalty. “She loves working with me. She doesn’t want any other position.”

“Then she should have thought things out more carefully in advance,” Jason said.

How dare he blame the pregnancy on Cynthia when she already had enough problems? “Are you blaming her for having an accident?”

“No, but…” Jason seemed briefly at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “As an obstetrical nurse, she surely has the knowledge to prevent this kind of situation.”

“People have been known to get carried away by their passions,” Heather said. “Not that I need to mention any names.”

She saw by the way his eyes widened that she’d hit her target. “You’re changing your story? It’s no longer that nothing happened. Now it’s that we got carried away by our impulses?”

“We went part of the way before you fell asleep,” Heather said. “That’s all.”

“I’m willing to believe that in my less-than-optimal condition, my memory lost what must have been a delicious experience.” Jason moved closer, looming over her. Heather had to fight the impulse to take a step backward. “But you’re saying that I fell asleep in the middle of making love to you? That’s going a bit far. I’m thirty-six, not ninety-six.”

“What difference does it make?” she snapped. “Whatever we did, it’s over.”

“I’d like to know where I stand.”

“A little too close for comfort, frankly.”

Deliberately, he shifted toward her. “Let me know when you’re ready to run screaming into the woods.”

“I should warn you, I know karate.” And several other Japanese words.

“That won’t do any good. The highest you could kick would be my kneecap.” He grinned. “You know, the two of us really should spend more time together. Maybe my memories will flood back.”

“My memory doesn’t need refreshing.” Heather had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. “Anything you want to know, you’re free to ask. But since you made it clear the next morning that you had no interest in pursuing the matter, I’m surprised you keep harping on it now.”

Jason reached out and brushed an errant curl off her temple. His touch shivered straight into parts of Heather that she considered off-limits to him or anybody else. “In my hungover condition, I may have muttered something less than gallant. For that, I apologize.”

“Your exact words, as I recall, were, ‘Whatever happened last night, I trust I’ll hear nothing further about it.” A slight tremor undermined Heather’s tone. Darn it, she didn’t want to show any vulnerability around Jason.

He had no right to know how much he’d wounded her. For the first time in years, she’d begun to open up to a man, only to have him throw it in her face.

If she’d had different life experiences, she might have found his attitude merely churlish and dismissed it from her mind. To a woman who’d been abandoned as a teenager by the man she’d loved and trusted, however, his rejection had struck her like a physical blow.

“Did I really say that?” Jason asked. “Ouch.”

“Those were your exact words. I already explained that there’s nothing wrong with my memory.” Heather was preparing a few more sharp remarks when she saw him focus on a spot behind her and realized someone had come into the room.

She turned, already knowing there was only one person at Doctors Circle who could approach that quietly on bare floors. Coral Liu possessed an inner calm that had impressed Heather from the moment the young woman started work in January. Even now, when she was probably quaking inside at facing her boss, her smooth, intelligent face showed only respect.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Coral held up a catalog of office furniture. “Mrs. Barr asked me to show you this. I thought it might be helpful to make your selections while you’re in the new office, so you can picture how things would fit.”

With an impatient expulsion of breath, Jason took the catalog. “I don’t have much of an eye for interior decorating.”

Coral bit her lip. Jason’s slight sign of impatience bothered her, Heather could tell. It was too bad such a rough-edged man had been paired with a sensitive secretary, although she knew Natalie had interviewed a number of applicants before recommending Coral.

“I took the liberty of drawing a floor plan, if you’d care to look at it,” the secretary said.

“Sure.” Jason didn’t lift his eyes from the catalog as he flipped through.

Coral handed Heather a sheet of paper. Although the markings had been sketched with a tentative hand, the young woman had done a careful job of arranging the desk, a couch, chairs and filing cabinets. “Looks good to me.”

Jason gave it a quick glance. “Might work. I’ll give it a more thorough going-over later.” He handed everything back to Coral. “Put these on my desk, please.”

“Yes, Dr. Carmichael.” She turned away, disappointment clouding her eyes. Apparently she’d hoped her floor plan would draw a more positive response.

“Oh, Coral. One more thing.”

She stopped, her slim back rigid, and turned to face him.

“On second thought, I realize it wasn’t such a bad idea to unpack my files and books,” Jason said. “We won’t be moving for at least a month, and I’d have hated not being able to find things when I needed them. In future, just check with me before doing something like that, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” After giving him a shy smile, Coral retreated. Her shoulders, Heather noticed, had relaxed.

“What were we talking about?” Jason asked after Coral had left. “Something important, I recall.”

Heather refused to resume the discussion of their ill-starred encounter in Atlanta. “We were reviewing the mural. I approve of it. Babies, babies everywhere sets the right tone.”

“I’ll tell Patrick. As I said before, decorating isn’t my strong point.” Despite his well-known dislike of wasting time, Jason appeared in no hurry to move on. “The rest of our new staff should be on board before April. I’ll forward their bios to you, if you’re interested.”

“I’d like that.” Time to make her getaway, Heather decided. “Thanks for showing me around. I have to be going.”

“You haven’t picked your office.”

“I’ll leave that to you,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment.”

Although technically she was finished at five o’clock, infertility patients had to be seen during their optimal times of the month, which weren’t always predictable. Some of the women also contended with rigid work schedules, so Heather made a point of staying flexible.

“I’ll see you later, then.” Jason didn’t suggest walking back across the plaza together, to her relief.

Once she was out in the fresh air, Heather’s spirits rose. With luck, they had put that entire Atlanta business behind them. With a little more luck, the sensual awareness vibrating between them would abate as soon as familiarity bred boredom. Any day now.

She marched across the courtyard, her sensible pumps clicking confidently against the pavement.

“TELL ME AGAIN what was wrong with this one,” Rob Sentinel said as he and Jason emerged from the third apartment building they’d visited.

Jason appreciated the young obstetrician’s offer to spend part of Saturday ferrying him around town. As a recent arrival himself, Rob knew the ropes of apartment hunting.

“There was no built-in microwave,” Jason said.

“That’s what I thought you said. I just didn’t believe it. They sell microwaves at discount stores, you know.” Rob sounded impatient, which was understandable, considering that he’d given up a chance to play golf with George today.

“I’ve already accumulated more stuff than I want.” Jason knew it didn’t make sense, his dislike of loading himself down with material possessions. Still, with only a few clothes, a small TV and a boom box, he’d been able to ship everything easily from Virginia.

If he had good financial sense, he’d buy a place, his mother had advised in a phone call from Boston. Being a real estate agent, she figured he was making a mistake by not investing now that he appeared to be putting down roots.

Certainly Jason didn’t plan to change jobs any time soon. Possibly not for many years.

Yet in the past there’d been times—one in particular, after his engagement had fallen apart—when both his personal and professional lives had benefited from his ability to pack up and move on short notice. He wasn’t ready to give up that freedom yet.

“Hold on.” Rob paused next to his car and folded his arms. “Didn’t you ask me earlier whether any of the apartments allowed dogs? A dog isn’t exactly what I’d call a minor acquisition.”

“It was an idle question.” Jason had always dreamed of having a dog. His parents, who took pride in their spotless Brookline home, had nixed the idea while he was growing up, and he’d had no opportunity since then. “Maybe when I retire, I’ll buy a large place and a dog to go with it. I don’t know why I bothered asking today. It just popped into my head.”

For some reason, he wondered whether Heather liked dogs. He’d spent the last couple of days wondering about Heather’s taste in a lot of things, although he’d been too busy to seek her out again.

“Your subconscious might be sending you a signal,” said his companion.

“Excuse me?” How on earth had Rob figured out that he was thinking about Heather?

“The dog. If that’s what you really want, we’re taking the wrong approach.” The obstetrician leaned against the car. “I don’t think an apartment is what you need.”

“If you’re about to suggest I invest in real estate, stop right there,” Jason said.

“I was thinking more along the lines of renting a house or a town house,” the younger doctor said. “That’s what Dr. Rourke does.”

“Oh?” He tried to sound casual, although he found himself intensely interested in hearing more. “Where does she live?”

“In a town house development on Bordeaux Avenue. That’s in the northeastern part of town,” Rob said. “I’d have rented there myself if it were closer to the beach.”

“Do they allow pets?” That would be ideal, Jason thought.

“I don’t know,” said the other doctor. “You could ask her about it on Monday.”

“I don’t want to wait that long. I’m tired of the hotel.” He was impatient to get settled and curious to see where Heather lived, too. “Why don’t we swing by there and take a look at her place?”

“I don’t know her unit number. Besides, she’s probably not home.” Obviously, Rob wasn’t eager to make another stop. If he were getting tired of the apartment hunt, Jason couldn’t blame him.

“You’ve been great today,” he said. “You’ve given me a good idea of what’s available. Why don’t you drop me at my hotel? I can take it from there.”

“I promised to help,” Rob said stubbornly. “Besides, you don’t know your way around town.”

“I’ve got a map,” he pointed out, then added the kicker. “It’s still early enough to hit the golf course.”

The man ran through several expressions as he waged an internal debate. “All right.” The call of the links had won out. “I’ll take you back, but let me know if you need more help.”

“You bet.” Jason didn’t plan to do anything of the sort.

At his hotel, he thanked Rob. As soon as the man was out of sight, Jason called Patrick’s home. The administrator had given him the number in case of weekend or evening problems that required his immediate attention.

Patrick’s wife, Natalie, answered. After Jason explained that he wanted to check out the town houses, she gave him Heather’s address and cell phone number. “I’m not sure if she’s home,” Natalie said. “She volunteers in a program for unwed mothers on Saturday mornings.”

Into Jason’s mind flashed their conversation on Wednesday about the pregnant nurse, along with Heather’s sharp reaction. Had she misinterpreted his remarks as an insult toward unmarried mothers? He’d only meant to point out that, if anyone knew enough to take precautions, it ought to be an obstetrical nurse.

“It’s nearly noon,” he said. “She might be home.”

“You can call her,” Natalie said.

“I appreciate the information.”

“Good luck on finding a place.”

“Thanks.” Jason didn’t mean to mislead her, but, as he rang off, he’d already decided not to bother calling in advance.

Heather might tell him to stay away. And he had no intention of doing that.

Chapter Three

Pushing up on her hands and knees, the baby rocked her little body forward, lost her balance and plopped onto the carpet. Doggedly, she hoisted herself up again and began rocking once more.

“She’s trying to crawl,” Heather said in delight.

“Wait! I’ll get my camera.” Her daughter Olive ran for the digital apparatus, which was never far away. “I have to send John a shot.”

“He’s getting out of the marines next month,” Heather pointed out. “He’ll be able to watch her crawl and stand and walk before you know it.”

“I can’t bear for him to miss any of it. He’s miserable that he wasn’t here for her birth.” Crouching, Olive took aim and snapped a shot just as Ginger flopped onto her side and opened her mouth to bawl. “Oh, no. That’s going to look awful.”

“It’s cute,” Heather said. “Everything she does is cute.”

“Typical grandmother.” Her daughter smiled indulgently. “Even if you are ridiculously young.”

“You think she’s cute, too!”

“Granted, but I don’t dote on her the way you do.” With an arch look, Olive added, “Maybe if you could brag about her to your friends, you’d get it out of your system.”

“I do brag about her to my friends.”

“Only Natalie and Amy.” Olive stretched onto her stomach, keeping the baby in the frame. When it came to taking pictures, she had a lot of patience. “I know you’re not ashamed of us, Mom, but you need to get over being ashamed of yourself.”

That was perceptive for a twenty-one-year-old woman, Heather reflected. “Things have changed. When I got pregnant out of wedlock, people sneered at me. I was held up as a bad example.”

“Oh, come on! Even twenty years ago, nobody believed that old business about fallen women.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Olive clicked quietly as Ginger tried again. This time, the baby managed to move her arms and legs fast enough to keep her balance as she lurched forward. “She did it!”

“I’m going to get my camera, too,” Heather said. “Don’t let her grow up before I get back.”

She’d scarcely taken two steps before the phone rang in the kitchen. It was John, making one of his rare overseas calls to his fiancée. After they exchanged greetings, she went to get her daughter.

Olive vanished to take the call. In the living room, Heather indulged herself by shooting a series of photos as Ginger bumbled her way along the carpet, making a colorful splash with her yellow jumpsuit and carrot-colored hair.

Although Olive and Ginger had been staying here for five months, she still could hardly believe she’d not only been reunited with her daughter, she’d also gained a granddaughter. It was more than she’d ever dared hope for.

Heather had been a confused fifteen-year-old when she got pregnant by her eighteen-year-old boyfriend, Ned. A handsome young man with a tan complexion and dark hair like Olive’s, he’d sworn he adored her and wanted to marry her someday—until he discovered that she was with child.

The first words out of his mouth had been, “It’s not mine.” Shocked, she’d burst into tears. He was the only man she’d ever been with, she’d pointed out. They loved each other, didn’t they? Surely he was going to stand by her.

What a fool she’d been! For the next few weeks, Ned had avoided her. When Heather showed up at the auto repair shop where he worked, he’d ordered her off the premises.