Wish Upon a Star Page 24

  It explained a great deal. It explained why she’d hesitated over using the word ‘home’. No one in their right mind would refer to this flat as ‘home’.

  She lifted her chin. ‘It’s fine.’

  He eyed the huge damp patch on the wall. ‘Miranda, it’s miserable.’

  ‘I’m saving my money. And now I’d like you to leave, please, because—’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He pushed the door shut behind him and noticed that it made very little difference to the freezing temperature. The place bordered on the uninhabitable.

  ‘Jake—’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re living here. And I’m not leaving until you tell me why.’

  She sighed. ‘It’s cheap.’

  ‘I can believe it.’ His expression was grim as he stared at the carpet. ‘Is that the most important factor? Why do you need to save your money? Why isn’t he supporting you?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The guy who made you pregnant. You might not still be with him, but at the very least he has a responsibility towards his child.’ Anger tore through him and suddenly he wanted to plant his fist through the damp, mouldy walls.

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘I don’t need anyone’s support, Jake. I can look after myself.’

  ‘But it’s not just you, is it, Miranda?’ His eyes dropped to the smooth swell of her stomach. ‘It’s the baby, too.’

  ‘The baby is fine and, please, don’t judge me. You don’t know anything about me and you couldn’t possible understand.’

  ‘I happen to want to understand. Did he leave you?’ He knew that he probably shouldn’t be asking but he couldn’t help himself. He just knew that he couldn’t leave her here like this. ‘Is that what happened?’

  She dragged off her coat and dropped it on the bed. ‘Why do you care?’

  He exhaled sharply, forced to admit that it was a reasonable question. And one he was having trouble answering. ‘I care. Let’s leave it at that.’

  For a moment his eyes held hers and then she looked away. ‘He was never here. He left as soon as he found out about the baby.’

  ‘Honourable guy.’ He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice and wanted to kick himself when he saw the pain in her eyes. ‘Damn, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ She sounded so tired that he wanted to gather her up and hug her. Take her away from all this.

  ‘Miranda—’

  ‘It really doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Thanks for the lift.’ She walked through to the tiny kitchen. It was so small that she could barely turn in it and he decided that whoever had designed the flat should be made to live in it for a day.

  ‘You think I’m going to leave you here?’ He leaned against the doorframe and watched as she put the kettle on and pulled open the fridge—a fridge that was empty except for a box of eggs and one small carton of yoghurt. It was the final straw. ‘Go and pack your things.’ He said the words quietly and she turned with the yoghurt in her hand, her expression startled.

  ‘Pardon?’

  He couldn’t blame her for looking surprised. He felt surprised, too. Wondering whether he’d gone mad, he folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘I said, go and pack your things. I’m taking you back to my house.’

  She pushed the fridge door shut. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  He tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Sweetheart, you’re the only woman I’ve ever made that offer to, so think hard before you turn it down.’

  The brief flash of laughter in her eyes assured him that she hadn’t lost her sense of humour.

  ‘I think you’re the one who probably needs to think hard. If it’s seduction on your mind, Mr Blackwell, I think you’ve chosen badly.’

  What exactly was on his mind? He had absolutely no idea. He just knew that there was no way he could leave her in this place, any more than he could have left her on the mountain. ‘Come with me.’

  She sighed and put the yoghurt down. ‘Are you always this stubborn?’

  ‘Yes.’ He watched her steadily. ‘On second thoughts, where’s your suitcase? I’ll pack for you.’

  ‘Jake—’

  ‘I’m not leaving here without you. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘This is ridiculous.’

  He smiled placidly, pleased by his decision. It felt right. ‘No. It’s just the way it is. Pack, Miranda, or I’ll carry you out of here wearing only the clothes you’re standing in, and we both know that my clothes are far too big for you.’

  The reminder of the last time she’d worn his clothes brought a faint flush to her cheeks and he felt something stir inside him.

  Never in his life had a woman posed so many questions. And never had he so badly wanted to discover the answers.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a bully?’

  ‘I’m not a bully. I just know what I want and I’m very good at getting it.’ In this case he knew what he wanted but he didn’t understand why he wanted it. He valued his personal space more than anything else in his life. No matter who he dated, no matter how hot the relationship, no woman had ever moved into his house.

  ‘I know what I want, too, and—’

  ‘You’re too exhausted to have the first clue what you want.’

  She gave a weary smile. ‘You might be right about that. I just want to lie down for five minutes.’

  He wondered whether he should point out that she looked as though she needed a lot longer than five minutes but decided against it. ‘Just pack, Miranda, and in under half an hour you’ll be lying in a deep bubble bath with a soft, comfy bed awaiting your arrival.’

  Something close to longing flashed into her eyes. ‘You make it extremely hard to say no.’

  ‘That’s the general idea.’

  She walked towards him. Without her shoes she barely reached his shoulders and he stared in fascination at her delicate bone structure and silky, dark hair. She was a woman of contrasts. Who would have thought that underneath that fragile, feminine exterior lurked the strength and determination of a lioness? She was the most independent woman he’d ever met.

  She lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re blocking my door and I need to pack for an overnight stay.’

  Relieved and elated but unable to identify exactly why, Jake decided to get her out of there before she had time to change her mind. ‘Pack for longer than that. I’m not bringing you back here until the place has been remodelled. I’m surprised you haven’t gone down with some vile disease.’

  ‘I’m tougher than I look.’

  ‘Evidently.’ He stood to one side and she wriggled through, her cheeks flushing again as their bodies touched.

  Visibly flustered, she walked away from him, grabbed a bag and stuffed a few things inside. ‘I’m ready.’ Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. ‘I still think this is ridiculous.’

  ‘Not ridiculous.’ He took the bag from her and gave her a gentle push towards the front door, eager to get her into his car before she had time to change her mind. ‘Sensible. And be careful on those stairs. Don’t fall asleep on your way down.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FOR the second time in a week, Miranda lay in a deep, warm bath full of bubbles in Jake’s gorgeous house.

  Deep down she knew that she probably shouldn’t be here. She should have put up more of an argument. But Jake wasn’t a man to take no easily and she hadn’t been able to find the energy to protest.

  And who could blame her for that?

  What woman in their right mind would chose squalor over luxury, even if it was only for a short time? She was so exhausted that her whole body was shrieking with protest and at that precise moment she wasn’t sure that she even had the energy to climb out of the bath. And she felt desperately worried about everything that had happened with Daisy. Had it been her fault? Should she have been able to anticipate the problem that had arisen?

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and Jake appeared, carrying two mugs. ‘I br
ought you sustenance.’

  Miranda gave a soft gasp of embarrassment and slid further under the bubbles. Why hadn’t she remembered to lock the door? ‘You can’t come in here!’

  He pushed the door shut with his shoulder. ‘Why not? You’re tired. I was worried about you. I wanted to check you hadn’t fallen asleep in the bath.’ Totally unrepentant, he put the two mugs on top of the laundry basket, then reached for a towel and held it out to her. ‘Get out now while you’re still awake and you can drink the hot chocolate I made you.’

  ‘Hot chocolate?’ With only her face showing through the snowy bubbles, Miranda stared longingly at the mug. ‘Is that the same sort of hot chocolate you gave me on the mountain?’

  ‘The very same.’ He’d changed out of his suit into a pair of jeans and a soft, casual shirt that had obvious been washed repeatedly. He’d pushed the sleeves up to the elbows to reveal strong forearms dusted with dark hairs. ‘Drink it now and by the time you’re dressed, dinner will be ready.’

  ‘You’ve cooked?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ He grinned and gave a shrug. ‘I had some help from the local pizza company. Full of calories, I know, but you look as though you could do with building up.’ His eyes lingered on her face. ‘Are you all right? You look worried.’

  He was observant, she had to give him that. ‘I’m worried that I did all the wrong things with Daisy,’ she blurted out suddenly. ‘Should I have spotted a problem sooner?’

  ‘Is that why you’re frowning?’ He sat down on the chair next to the laundry basket. ‘The simple answer is, no, it certainly wasn’t your fault. Why would you think it was?’

  ‘I’ve never seen shoulder dystocia before,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve heard about it, of course. Who hasn’t? But I’ve never actually seen it. I keep wondering whether I missed some important signs earlier. Perhaps if I’d spotted something, it wouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself.’ His tone was firm. ‘A significant proportion of cases have absolutely no identifiable risk factors. You know that as well I do.’

  Miranda was still running through the entire nightmare in her mind. ‘Perhaps I should have done something differently when I saw the head retract. I tried left lateral then I tried putting her on all fours and then I moved her through 180 degrees but it didn’t work.’

  His gaze was steady. ‘You did all the right things. And you called for help immediately, which is the most important thing of all.’

  ‘But perhaps I should have tried the McRoberts manoeuvre first, instead of putting her on all fours. Will you explain something to me?’ Miranda chewed her lip. ‘Doesn’t lying her on her back just narrow the pelvic outlet?’

  ‘It corrects sacral lordosis and removes the sacral prominence as an obstruction.’

  ‘So you basically have more space?’

  Jake grinned and lifted one of the mugs to his lips. ‘That’s the theory. Unfortunately not all babies are entirely familiar with the theory.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s my other worry. What if it hadn’t worked? What then?’ Miranda was thoroughly absorbed. ‘You don’t think there’s value in performing an episiotomy presumably?’

  Jake shook his head. ‘The baby is impacted under the bony structures of the pelvis and the episiotomy will only deal with soft tissues. Knowing that you’d already had her in left lateral and on all fours, if the McRoberts manoeuvre hadn’t worked then I would have tried to deliver the posterior arm, but obviously that isn’t without risk.’ He leaned forward and handed her the second mug of chocolate. ‘Now, stop worrying and drink something. You must be starving. You did well today.’

  Grateful for the frothy mountain of bubbles that at least afforded her a reasonable degree of privacy, she sipped the chocolate, warmed by his reassurance. ‘I finally met Mr Hardwick.’

  ‘And that was doubtless an uplifting experience.’ His soft drawl made her wonder how on earth the two consultants managed to work side by side as colleagues when their approach to obstetrics was so dramatically different. They probably didn’t really work together much, she mused.

  ‘He was rude.’

  Jake nodded and finished his chocolate. ‘Sounds fairly typical. He trained in an age when consultants were considered gods who dealt out instructions that people followed without question. These days we tend to favour discussion with the patient.’

  ‘If you hadn’t been in the hospital, what would have happened to that woman?’

  ‘Well, strictly speaking, Hardwick wasn’t on call so he didn’t have to be there.’ Jake suppressed a yawn. ‘It all comes down to whether you want to hang around if one of your patients is in. Hardwick tends to keep an eye on his private patients and ignore his less well-heeled clients.’

  Miranda frowned. ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘Is it?’ Jake lifted an eyebrow and his gaze was faintly sardonic. ‘Would you want him around when your baby is delivered?’

  Miranda shuddered. ‘Most definitely not.’

  ‘I rest my case. Talking of which, if you haven’t chosen an obstetrician yet, you should speak to Tom Hunter. He’s brilliant.’ Jake glanced at his watch and stood up. ‘Pizza delivery imminent. You’d better get dressed, unless you fancy wrestling with mozzarella in the bath.’

  She slid further into the water. ‘I can’t get dressed with you standing there.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Miranda, I’m an obstetrician. I’ve seen pregnant women before.’

  ‘You haven’t seen me.’

  His eyes locked with hers and she felt colour seep into her cheeks. It was the warmth of the water that made her body heat, she told herself hastily. Nothing more. She knew better than to fall for any man, let alone a man like Jake. He was single for a reason and she had no intention of becoming another notch on his belt.

  She almost laughed at her own thoughts. As if Jake would truly be interested in her! She was six months pregnant with another man’s child, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t exactly fit into the box entitled ‘Uncomplicated Relationships’. Not to mention the fact that he probably didn’t even find pregnant women attractive…

  When he’d said that she was beautiful and had kissed her, it had been on Christmas Day, before he’d found out that she was pregnant. Things were very different now.

  Furious with herself for allowing her thoughts to drift down that path, she glared at him. ‘Leave me in peace and I’ll get out of the bath.’

  He took the empty mug from her. ‘Fair enough. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes. Any longer than that and I’m coming back upstairs to find you.’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re controlling?’

  He smiled and strolled towards the door. ‘Frequently. Blame it on the job. Occasionally I’m required to make instant, unilateral decisions. Sometimes that spills into my personal life.’

  She watched him leave, a small, regretful smile on her face. He was an indecently attractive man but it wasn’t his just his looks that made her stomach curl. It was his strength and his confidence.

  And she shouldn’t be noticing or caring. Didn’t she ever learn?

  Determined not to dwell on his attributes, determined to forget that amazing kiss, she pulled herself reluctantly from the warm, soothing bath and wrapped herself in the fluffy, warm towel.

  He heard her come into the room and turned, his eyes lingering on her flushed cheeks and the soft curve of her mouth. Dressed in pyjamas, with her hair secured on top of her head with a clip, she looked impossibly young and vulnerable and he felt something clench deep inside his gut.

  Carefully hiding his reaction, he pulled out a chair and waved a hand. ‘Sit down. I didn’t know what you liked on pizza so I ordered everything.’

  She peeped into the box and laughed. ‘So I see. As an obstetrician, aren’t you supposed to be preaching the sermon of optimum nutrition?’

  ‘A little bit of what you want is good for you and I’ve decided that what you need most is calories and comfort.’ He pu
shed the box towards her. ‘Eat. Do you want a plate?’

  Ravenous, she shook her head and reached into the box. ‘No point.’ She chewed and gave a moan of delight. ‘Oh, this is delicious.’

  ‘Good.’ He watched the way her small pink tongue sneaked out and licked her lips and suddenly found himself in the grip of a vicious attack of lust. ‘So—tell me your life story.’

  She stopped chewing. ‘Sorry?’

  Cursing himself for having disturbed her meal, Jake decided that, having done so, he may as well push on with his questioning. ‘I want to know what’s happened to the father of your baby. You accused me of jumping to the wrong conclusion and I’m sure that you’re right. So give me the facts. That way, I won’t do it again.’

  ‘You’re very direct, aren’t you?’

  ‘I think it’s better that way.’ He trapped her gaze with his. ‘It prevents misunderstandings.’

  She gave a slightly cynical laugh. ‘Does it?’

  ‘I think so. Who is he, Miranda?’

  She hesitated. ‘I suppose I owe you an explanation so I’ll tell you, and then I don’t want to talk about it any more.’

  ‘You don’t owe me anything,’ he said calmly. ‘But I want you to tell me.’

  ‘Why?’

  Good question. ‘Because you look like someone who needs a friend? So that I can track him down and black his eye for leaving you to struggle like this?’

  ‘I’m not struggling.’ She gave him a fierce glare and he fought back a smile, remembering how independent she’d been on the mountain. She clearly had a thing about looking after herself and yet she looked so young with her dark hair still damp from the bath and a slice of pizza in her hand.

  Far too young to be a single mother with no support.

  ‘Don’t stop eating,’ he said quietly. ‘You need the food. Tell me who he was, Miranda.’

  Ignoring the pizza in her hand, she chewed her lip and stared miserably at the kitchen table. ‘Saying it out loud makes it even worse.’

  He leaned forward and eased the slice of pizza from between her fingers.