Sinclair’s baby

Midwife Scarlet Robin had quietly loved the consultant obstetrician at Southside Maternity Unit for years. Dr Sinclair McPherson had barely noticed the extrovert beauty in his midst – until the evening he discovered Scarlet with her glorious hair let down.

After one passionate night with Sinclair, Scarlet vanished. He thought he’d lost her forever, when she turned up in his labour room – about to give birth and claiming she was married. Something was amiss and Sinclair needed to discover what – and, more importantly, had he just delivered his own son?

Reviews

A truly delightful, and very emotional story. Well written – and dramatic as well as romantic – a lovely book.
RC

Excerpt

‘My mother’s not here, Dr McPherson.’ After a quick glance at his face she concentrated on the top button of his shirt but had to fight against the urge to linger at the gap in his unbuttoned collar. There was something incredibly attractive about a strong man’s neck.

‘I’ve asked you before to call me Sinclair.’ He stepped closer. ‘I haven’t come to see your mother. May I come in?’

Scarlet drew a breath and stepped back out of his way. ‘Mum said you’d already dropped in this morning.’ Scarlet caught a curious look from the neighbour across the road as the woman stared at the doctor visiting twice in one day. ‘For goodness sake, come in, before the whole town wants to know why you’re here.’

He brushed past her and she was sure it was deliberate as the heat from his body went right through her.

His voice was casual. ‘You’ll really have to practise your door greetings, Scarlet. Your welcome lacks a certain warmth.’

She was warm all right. Damn him. She willed herself to relax as she walked in front of him into the lounge room. Scarlet gestured for him to take the armchair and when he had she perched on the settee furthest away from him. ‘And your visit is inappropriate – I’m a married woman.’

‘Are you?’ The words were almost inaudible. He settled himself into a lounge chair and crossed his long legs.

At least one of them was relaxed, she thought bitterly, and then his words sank in. Her heart thumped and she shot a look at him. ‘What did you say?’

He looked back at her innocently. ‘Your husband. Yes – I want to ask you about him, but before I do…’ He brushed that subject away and smiled his killer smile at her. ‘Congratulations on the birth today. In fact my “clients” were very clever and think you are wonderful. Note I didn’t call them patients.’

Scarlet’s guard slipped a little as she remembered her own pleasure at Jill’s baby’s birth. Her voice was earnest. ‘I’d wanted to talk to you about suggesting women go home again when they are in early labour. Even those with broken waters like Jill. We would explain about risk factors and safety issues. Give them a chance before speeding up their labours artificially.’

Sinclair’s gaze was ironic. ‘Maybe early labours we could think about, but ruptured membranes need more discussion. Write me a protocol and I promise I’ll read it and we’ll see.’

It was better than nothing. She didn’t know whether to go on or not. ‘Drugs aren’t always necessary. Women are very powerful when they set their mind to it.’

He gave a half-strangled laugh and sat forward in the chair. ‘They’re powerful all right. It was an interesting morning.’ She could tell he wanted to change the subject.

Scarlet was trying to keep track of all nuances but his humour kept her off balance.

‘So your mother told you I visited. Did she mention I spent some time with Cameron?’

Scarlet’s heart started to thump again and the nausea was back. ‘In passing, she did.’ She swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘So?’

Sinclair stared back at her blandly. ‘He’s a fine boy. Don’t you think he’s handsome? Like me?’ His question dropped onto her without warning and she jumped off the settee as if scalded.

She dared a glance at him. ‘Cameron?’ Her mind went blank and she couldn’t think what to say. ‘Cameron has nothing to do with you.’ She looked away, straightened her shoulders and forced herself to meet his eyes. ‘He looks just like his father.’ She had her voice under control but the rest of her was like jelly.