Книга - Twin Surprise For The Single Doc

Twin Surprise For The Single Doc
Susanne Hampton


Saving her babies…In labour, trapped in a lift, Claudia Monticello grips Patrick Spencer’s hand. Abandoned by her babies’ father, she must rely on this handsome stranger’s quick-thinking and kindness to bring her twins safely into the world!A former obstetrician, Patrick won’t let Claudia down. He might have vowed never to love again, but holding these adorable babies in his arms, Patrick finds he can’t just walk away from them and their strong and beautiful mother…The Monticello Baby MiraclesDoubles bundles of joy!







Dear Reader (#ulink_c4bac604-cedf-5619-9452-8795264080c7),

Claudia Monticello has accepted that she’s more like her fiery, impulsive Italian father than her sweet and sensible Irish mother. The ‘sensible’ genes have been lavishly bestowed upon her twin sister Harriet. But she also knows that her impulsive decisions and her desire to take everyone at face value—particularly men—has to stop. Her need to live life to the fullest has led her to the other side of the world on not much more than a whim—and that’s the least serious of the repercussions!

Claudia has received life-changing news, and she realises she has no choice but to be responsible. And suddenly—and surprisingly—that doesn’t seem so hard. Her heart is already consumed with love for her unborn babies, and their needs will for evermore come first. The only men who have a future in her life are her two sons.

That is until she meets Dr Patrick Spencer.

This former obstetrician has left his life in London to start a new life in Los Angeles. But the disappointment that has driven him five thousand miles from home seems to follow him and, despite a new career, he never feels fulfilled.

That is until he meets Claudia Monticello.

They have both left London for very different reasons, but when their worlds collide they are forced to question their decision never to love again.

I hope you enjoy Claudia and Patrick’s journey to happily-ever-after. It’s a bumpy ride, so you might need to hold on tight…just as tightly as my hero and heroine do from the moment they meet!

Warmest regards,

Susanne


Married to the man she met at eighteen, SUSANNE HAMPTON is the mother of two adult daughters—Orianthi and Tina. She has enjoyed a varied career path, but has finally found her way to her favourite role of all: a Mills & Boon Medical Romance author. Susanne has always read romance novels and says, ‘I love a happy-ever-after, so writing for Mills & Boon is a dream come true.’




Twin Surprise

for the Single Doc

Susanne Hampton







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To everyone who thought they had closed their hearts to love…only to be proved wrong by a love stronger than the heartache they had survived.

And to Alli and Gilda and all of my amazing friends who constantly provide inspiration for my books.


Praise for Susanne Hampton (#ulink_7fddc57a-9ae6-51fd-afc6-ac00f37d4f51)

‘A stunning read about new beginnings that is guaranteed to melt any reader’s heart.’

—Goodreads on Falling for Dr December

‘Probably one of my top ten favourite reads this year. It was heartbreaking…kept me wanting to read to find out what happens next.’

—Goodreads on A Baby to Bind Them


Contents

Cover (#u4604abbc-67a1-5d65-91fe-e16786120378)

Dear Reader (#u16790e30-0fc3-504c-9007-865c91361e82)

About the Author (#u12925746-f3f0-582d-9b30-c64714a1a76a)

Title Page (#u7168419f-57e2-500d-9b21-63fd9d6bb102)

Dedication (#u8e148439-a054-51b3-a294-d0ed39b0f92a)

Praise for Susanne Hampton (#u31dbebd7-2c68-506e-b1bd-250148093aa4)

CHAPTER ONE (#u6e65a3e0-146d-5afb-b994-41428ac75665)

CHAPTER TWO (#u46f5898c-8cba-5549-b0b9-53c57311b6c9)

CHAPTER THREE (#u63595a75-8de1-52ea-8376-7f07825e7fc1)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_5629d89e-123b-53c5-9278-dbf5b77e71a3)

‘CONGRATULATIONS, CLAUDIA. You’re having twins!’

Claudia Monticello’s deep brown eyes, inherited from her Italian father, widened like dollhouse-sized plates against her alabaster skin, a present from her Irish mother. In a rush of panic and disbelief, her gaze darted from the gel-covered bump of her stomach to the grainy black-and-white images on the screen, then to the pleased as punch radiologist’s face before finally looking up to the ceiling to where she imagined heaven might be. Not that she thought her parents would be smiling down at her after what she had done.

Suddenly the room became very hot and she struggled a little to breathe. The clammy fingers of one hand reached for the sides of the examination table to steady herself. Two babies. Her mouth had dropped open slightly, but her lips had not curved to anything close to a smile. In denial, she shook her head from side to side and nervously chewed on the nails of the other hand. There had to be a mistake. The radiologist, still smiling at the screen and apparently unaware of the panic blanketing her patient, gently moved the hand piece over Claudia’s stomach to capture additional images.

She must have zoomed in too quickly, Claudia mused.

Double imaged.

Misread the data.

Be new at her job.

But Claudia knew without doubt, as she slowly and purposefully focused on the screen, there was no mistake. There were two tiny babies with two distinct heartbeats. The radiologist was using her finger to point to them. Her excitement was palpable. A reaction juxtaposed to Claudia’s. At twenty-nine years of age, Claudia Monticello was anything but excited to be the single mother of twins. For many reasons... The first was her living five thousand miles from home...and the second was the fact her children would never meet their father.

* * *

Twenty weeks had passed since Claudia discovered she was to be the mother of two and, as she dropped her chin and looked down at her ample midsection while waiting for the elevator, she was pleased to see they were healthy-sized babies. Her waist was somewhere hidden underneath her forty-five-inch circumference and she hadn’t seen her ankles for weeks. Her mood was one of anticipation as she waited for the doors to open on her floor. Her final obstetric visit was imminent and she was thinking about little else than her flight home to London the next day. It couldn’t come quickly enough for her. She couldn’t wait to farewell Los Angeles.

And turn her back on the disappointment and heartache the city had brought.

Or, more correctly, that she had invited into her life.

The day was warm and she was wearing a sleeveless floral maternity dress, one of three she’d picked up on the sale rack in Macy’s when she rapidly outgrew all her other clothes, flat white sandals and her oversized camel-coloured handbag that she took everywhere. Her deep chocolate curls were short and framed her pretty face, but her eyes were filled with sadness. She pictured her suitcases, packed and waiting just inside the door of her apartment. She was finally leaving the place she had called home for almost a year. The fully furnished apartment was in a prime high-rise gated community on Wilshire Boulevard and in demand. The home would have new tenants within days. It had only been temporary, like so much in that town, and she wondered who would be sleeping in the king-sized bed later that week and what the future held for them. She hoped for their sake they hadn’t rushed into something they would live to regret.

The way she had.

* * *

Patrick Spencer waited inside the elevator for the doors to open. It had only managed to travel down one floor and was already stopping. A sigh escaped from his lips. He prayed it wouldn’t stop on every floor on the way to street level. His patience was already tested. He was having another one of those days. A day when he felt frustrated with life and struggled with a cocktail of resentment mixed with equal parts of doubt and disappointment and a dash of boredom with his new reality. Not that his reality was devoid of life’s luxuries, but it was missing the passion he’d once felt. It was another day when he felt cheated out of what he had planned and wanted for his future, even though he was the one who’d walked away from everything. A day when he almost didn’t give a damn. And whenever he had those days he always put on his sunglasses and tried to block out the world in which he lived. He had been cornered into this new life. That was how he saw it.

If things had not gone so terribly wrong, he would be living in London instead of calling Los Angeles home.

* * *

With melancholy colouring her mood, Claudia paid little attention to the tall, darkly dressed figure when she stepped into the elevator. But she noticed the affected way he was wearing wraparound sunglasses with his suit. It was more of the same pretentious LA behaviour.

Sunglasses inside an elevator? In Claudia’s sadly tainted opinion, all men were hiding something; perhaps this one was nursing a hangover. She rolled her eyes, confident in the fact he couldn’t see anything from behind the dark lenses and even more sure he wouldn’t be looking in her direction anyway. Probably obsessed with his own thoughts and problems. Just like so many in this town. A town full of actors, many with an inflated sense of self-worth and a complete lack of morals. Perhaps this man filled that same bill, she surmised. She felt sick to her stomach even thinking about the man who had wooed her with lies and then walked out of her life as shamelessly as he had walked into it.

She patted her stomach protectively and, not caring a damn what he thought, she whispered, ‘You may have been a surprise, boys, but I love you both to the moon and back already.’ Then she silently added, And I will make sure you don’t run away from your responsibilities...or wear sunglasses in a lift!

‘They’re very lucky little boys.’ Patrick said it matter-of-factly. It surprised even him that he had made a comment but hearing the woman speak so genuinely to her unborn children in an accent once so familiar struck a chord with him. In a town so devoid of anything genuine, Patrick felt compelled to comment.

Claudia thought for a fleeting moment his words had been delivered with genuine sentiment. But her body stiffened as she reminded herself there was little or no sentiment in that town. Maternal hormones, she assumed, had temporarily dressed her vision with rose-coloured glasses. His English accent, for some reason, made her drop her guard just a little. Against her better judgement, she looked over to see the man remove his sunglasses. His lips were curved slightly. Not to a full smile, not even a half smile, but she could see his teeth just a little. They were almost perfect but not veneer flawless.

He was tall, six foot one or two, she guessed, as she was five foot nine in bare feet or the flat shoes she was wearing that day. He was broad-shouldered and, she imagined from the way his shirt fell, buff, but he wasn’t overly tanned. His hair was short and light brown in colour and it was matched with a light covering of stubble on his face. His grooming was impeccable but, aside from the stubble, quite conservative. While his looks, she conceded, were worthy of a billboard, his styling was more professional than the usual LA playboy slash actor type. Or, in his case, an English ex-pat playing the LA field.

‘I’m sorry?’ she finally said after her assessment. She was hoping he would shrug his shoulders, put his sunglasses back on and return to thoughts of himself or his most recent conquest.

But he didn’t.

‘I said that your babies are very fortunate that you care for them so much even before they enter the world. I hope they make you proud.’

Patrick had not said anything like that in twelve years. They were words he used to say every day as a matter of routine, but never so routine that they were not sincere. But something about this woman and the palpable love he could see in her eyes and hear in her voice made it impossible not to make comment. She appeared different from the women he knew.

And a very long way from the women he bedded. She was cute and beautiful, not unlike a china doll. His women were not fragile like that.

And her love for her unborn children was special. It was something Patrick very much appreciated.

Claudia felt her stance stiffen again and her expression become quite strained. His accent was cultured and, with her own English upbringing and resultant class-consciousness, she suspected he had more than likely experienced a privileged boarding school education. His clothes were high end designer. She knew he must have an ulterior motive. All men did. There were a handful of people she had met in the year since she’d left London to make Hollywood her home who had shown a level of genuine kindness but she doubted this man would join those ranks. In fact, she doubted that any man would ever again join that group. Her desired demeanour was defensive and with little effort she reached it. No man was going to get within a mile of her or, more particularly, her children with any line. She had told herself that she had finished with men and all of their agendas. And she decided to prove it to herself.

Her first step would be keeping this man, albeit a very attractive man, at arm’s length. Perhaps even offside.

‘You really should refrain from eavesdropping; it’s rude,’ she said before turning her attention back to the blank gunmetal doors. There—it was done! She had stood up for herself and it brought her a sense of empowerment.

It had been a long time coming and she conceded her ire was directed towards the wrong man but she had finally felt strong enough to say something. And it felt good. As if she was claiming her power back.

But the elevator didn’t feel good or seem to have any power. It seemed to be slowing and, for want of a better word in her head, since she didn’t particularly like confined spaces, it seemed to be struggling in its descent. She wished it would pick up speed and get her out of the awkward situation. Deep down inside, she knew her response had been overly dramatic and cutting but she was still proud she had found the strength to do it. There were only another fifteen floors and she hoped the elevator would reach the ground before he handed her a business card and she discovered the reason he’d struck up the conversation. Insurance, investment or even real estate. There had to be something behind the smile. Since she was so heavily pregnant, she felt very confident it was not going to segue into a pick-up line.

With her chin lifted slightly, she felt the colour rising in her cheeks; she played with her small pearl earrings the way she always did when she was nervous.

Patrick considered her in silence for a moment as he watched her fidget with the small pearl studs. He had made an uncharacteristic effort to acknowledge her pregnancy and he was taken back at her disparaging remark. He hadn’t expected it as she had appeared at first glance to be very sweet. Her pretty face was framed with dark curls and he thought she had an innocence about her. He hadn’t foreseen her reaction and to his mind he definitely did not deserve the harsh retort. He wasn’t going to take it on the chin.

Without making eye contact as he stared at the same gunmetal door, he decided to answer her abrupt reply with one equally insensitive. ‘I think you’re the rude one here. You enter a lift, or should I say elevator, due to our location, with only one other person, that being me, and begin a conversation with your unborn children, for which I did not judge you to be mad, but in fact complimented you, and then you remark that I’m rude for making a comment.’

Claudia was surprised by his formal and acerbic rebuttal. His response had been articulate and he had not raised his voice but she wasn’t in the mood to eat humble pie. Men, or rather one man, had just let her down very badly and she wasn’t going to break her promise to herself. They were all the same if they were given the opportunity. And she had no intention of ever giving a man such an opportunity with her again.

With her eyes facing straight ahead at their shared focal point, she was about to reply when she was stopped by a twinge in her stomach. Her body stiffened with the pain and she hunched a little, almost protectively.

She knew it couldn’t be a contraction. It was too early. One hand instinctively reached for her babies and her stomach suddenly felt hard to her touch. She was grateful the stranger was looking away as she leant a little on the elevator wall. She told herself it must be the Braxton Hicks contractions that her obstetrician had mentioned but it seemed to be quite intense and more than a little painful.

It passed quite quickly and finally, after catching her breath, she replied, ‘I think it was obvious I was having a private conversation. And clearly you are judging me, by implying that I’m mad. That’s hardly a nice thing to say to someone you don’t know.’

‘You’re right,’ he responded and turned to face her. ‘I concede it was less than polite but you have to agree that you most definitely left your manners back up on the thirty-fourth floor.’ He looked away as he finished his tersely delivered response and checked for mobile phone reception.

By his abrupt tone and the fact he had noticed which floor she lived on, Claudia looked out of the corner of her eyes at him and wondered for a moment if he was a lawyer. Lawyers always paid attention to details that the general public ignored. Of course, she thought, she would have the slowest ride to the ground with an overbearing man with a legal background. She dropped her chin a little but not to admire her middle; instead she looked tentatively across the elevator to where the man stood. He was wearing highly polished shoes. Slightly raising her chin, she noted his perfectly pressed charcoal-grey slacks and finally, with her head turned a little more in his direction as she gave in to her curiosity, she saw his crisp white shirt and jacket. She had thought initially that he was wearing a suit but on closer, but not too obvious, inspection, she could see flecked threads in the weave. And then there was his expensive Swiss watch. Not forgetting the fact he was already in the elevator when she’d entered, which meant he either lived, or had a client, on the only floor above her. The penthouse on the thirty-fifth floor.

Suddenly she felt another twinge. She wanted to get out of the lift and get to her obstetric appointment immediately. She didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation.

‘I apologise—I’m sorry,’ she returned sharply and without emotion as she once again faced the elevator doors. She rubbed the hollow of her back that was beginning to ache. The niggling pain was spreading and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She just wanted the short time in the relatively tiny space to be uneventful, so she took the easy option and hoped the conversation would end there.

But it didn’t.

‘Frankly, I think I’m a little past caring for your less than genuine apology.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Claudia knew the handsome stranger had called the situation correctly; she just didn’t want to admit it.

‘I think you’re just giving me lip service,’ he continued. ‘Forget I said anything nice at all. To be honest, I’m sorry I did, so let’s just go back to an awkward silence that comes with sharing an elevator with a stranger and hope the thing picks up speed for both of our sakes.’

Claudia felt a little tug at her heart. The stranger really had been trying to make pleasant conversation and compliment her in the process and she had shot him down.

‘Gosh, I did sound awfully rude, didn’t I?’ she asked, as much to herself as him. Wishing she had not been as dismissive and had put some meaning behind the words, she offered a more contrite apology. ‘I really am sorry. I do mean it.’

‘Perhaps.’

Her eyes met his and she could see they were not warm and forgiving but neither were they icy. They were sad. They were filled with a look close to disappointment and she felt her heart sink a little further. She had never been quite so rude to a stranger before. Heaven knew what day he had endured and she had behaved abominably.

Circumstance had made her distrust the male population. She had not even thought how her behaviour would affect the handsome stranger sharing the slowest elevator on the west coast of North America, until he’d pointed it out. But she was surprised by his reaction. She assumed most men would have shrugged it off but he seemed genuinely disappointed, almost as if he was directing the disappointment inward for some reason.

With a humble and heartfelt expression she replied, ‘I really do apologise. I’m very sorry and there’s really no excuse for my behaviour.’ Taking a deep breath, she outstretched her hand like an olive branch. ‘I’m Claudia Monticello, slightly hormonal mother-to-be and having a very bad day. I could add that I’m perhaps a little stressed right now as I’m flying back to the UK tomorrow and I have so much still to do. I have to see my obstetrician and finish packing. There’s so many things I have to remember...’ And so much she wanted to forget. But she had no intention of telling the handsome stranger that.

‘Well, perhaps you do have a reason to be a little on edge,’ he said, looking into her eyes, almost piercing her soul. ‘Apology accepted. Patrick Spencer, doctor, not eavesdropper.’

Claudia smiled. She had picked the wrong profession too. As she kept staring into his eyes, she noticed they were a deep blue with flecks of grey. Like storm clouds swirling over the deepest part of the ocean. She felt herself wondering why he hid such stunning eyes behind dark sunglasses. They were too captivating a shade to be hidden. She shook herself. His eye colour was not something she needed to busy her mind with at that time. Nothing about him was her concern, she told herself as she noticed there was only a short trip of eight floors until they reached street level and she would never see the man again.

But it did feel strangely reassuring to be in the elevator with a man with a medical background after the fleeting contraction she’d experienced. She knew they were commonplace nearing the latter part of pregnancy and it appeared to have been a once-off but his nearness made her feel a little safer.

No, very safe and she didn’t know why.

Out of a sense of awkwardness in the silence that were now sharing, she glanced up again to check how many floors they had travelled. The elevator had not picked up any speed. She was glad they weren’t in the Burj Khalifa in Dubai or the boys would be ready for pre-school at the rate they were travelling.

With her mind brought to travel, Claudia was excited to be heading home. Once her obstetrician signed her flight clearance she would be on her way back to London. Her contract with the television studio had finally ended, leaving her free to return home. Instinctively, she patted the recent ultrasound scans tucked safely in her bag. She had no swelling in her legs and her blood pressure had been fine at the last visit. Her pregnancy had been uneventful until the twinge, something which was at complete odds with her disastrous personal life. But she was grateful she had something positive upon which to focus.

As they passed the fourth floor and the elevator seemed to almost pause, suddenly she felt another more intense contraction. Claudia tried to smile through it but suspected it was closer to a grimace. Braxton Hicks contractions were a lot different to what she had expected. She had been told that a woman could experience up to four in an hour but she hadn’t thought they would be so close together.

Patrick eyed her with concern but, just as he opened his mouth, the stalling elevator came to a jarring halt. Claudia grabbed the railing to steady herself and they both looked up to see the floor light flickering and waited for the doors to open. But they didn’t. Instead the lift dropped what she imagined to be another floor and stopped. Patrick had already taken two purposeful steps towards Claudia and she felt his strong arms wrap around her to prevent her from falling. His touch should have worried her but instead a wave of relief washed over her. She was not alone.

‘Let’s get you on the floor. It will be safer.’ Hastily he pulled off his jacket and dropped it to the elevator floor before gently lowering Claudia onto it.

‘Your jacket—it will be ruined.’

‘At this moment, a ruined jacket is not my concern. You are,’ he said matter-of-factly but with an unmistakable warmth in his voice and one Claudia didn’t believe she truly deserved after her behaviour. ‘When are the babies due?’

‘The twins aren’t due for another six and a half weeks and I’m fine, really I am,’ she insisted as she tried to sit gently and not move and crease the jacket underneath her. ‘I’m flying out tomorrow with the doctor’s approval; it’s the last possible day that the airline will allow me to travel.’

‘You’re cutting it fine with the whole long haul at almost thirty-four weeks,’ he replied with his brows knitted. He added, ‘You seemed to be in pain a moment ago.’ It was a question he framed as a statement. He didn’t want to appear overbearing but he was concerned. He was also doubtful whether she should be travelling at such a late stage of pregnancy. Even with a clean bill of health, it seemed risky for her to take a long haul flight so close to delivering.

‘Yes, just one of these Braxton Hicks contractions.’

‘You’re sure?’ His frown had not lifted as he spoke.

This time it was a question and she sensed genuine concern. It heightened hers.

‘Absolutely,’ she said, followed by a nod. It wasn’t the truth. The truth was that she had never been quite so scared in her life but she had to push that reality from her mind and remain positive. The worst-case scenario was too overwhelmingly frightening to consider without collapsing into a heap. She had been holding everything together tenuously for so many months her nerves were threadbare.

‘If you say so,’ he told her, doubt about her response evident in his tone. ‘Just stay seated till we reach the ground.’ He retrieved his mobile phone from his trouser pocket, but Claudia assumed there was no reception through the heavy elevator walls as he turned and reached for the emergency telephone.

He didn’t take his eyes away from Claudia, even when the standard response finished and he cut in. ‘This is Dr Patrick Spencer, I’m in Terrace Park Towers, Wilshire Boulevard, not far from Highland. We’re somewhere between the fourth floor and street level and the elevator’s come to a halt. I have a female resident with me. Approximately thirty-four weeks pregnant.’ He paused. ‘No, no, there’s no immediate medical emergency. I have the resident seated and there’s no obvious physical injuries but I want a crew to get us out stat. And after the jolt it would be wise to send an ambulance. The patient may need to head to the hospital for a routine obstetric examination.’

With that he hung up and turned his full attention back to Claudia.

Her resolve to remain calm had deserted her, despite attempts to tell herself she was overreacting. She wasn’t overreacting. Her eyes darted to the steel doors, willing them to open, and then back to Patrick, unsure what she was willing him to do.

‘We’ll be out of here before you know it,’ he said and very gently wiped the wisps of hair from her brow, now covered in tiny beads of perspiration. ‘They’re on their way.’

‘Yes, they are... I’m afraid.’

‘There’s nothing to fear. Just stay calm and the crew will have us out of here very quickly. And there’ll be an ambulance on hand if we need one.’

‘It’s not the crew I’m talking about...it’s the babies. I’m afraid my twins are on their way... This isn’t Braxton Hicks, Patrick. I’m in labour.’


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_3180c4a9-9a09-5f37-a61d-b50e1c972edb)

CLAUDIA’S WATER BROKE only moments later, confirming she was very much in labour and going to deliver her babies in an elevator unless a miracle happened. As she wriggled uncomfortably on the hard elevator floor with only Patrick’s now soaking wet jacket beneath her, she stared at nowhere in particular and prayed with all of her might that it was a bad dream. One from which she would wake to find herself giving birth in a pretty delivery room in a London hospital surrounded by smiling nurses...nurses just like her sister, Harriet. She always allayed Claudia’s medical concerns with sensible and thoughtful answers delivered in a calm manner, just like the way their mother had always spoken to them.

How she wished more than anything that Harriet was with her. She would know what to do. She always did...but, as Claudia looked at her surroundings from her new vantage point on the floor, she knew it was pointless to wish for her sister to be there. Or for a birthing suite. She would have neither. Harriet was in Argentina to do something selfless and wonderful and she was paying for her own irresponsible behaviour by being trapped in a Los Angeles elevator in the first stage of labour.

Giving birth to the babies of a man who didn’t give a damn.

With the help of another she didn’t know.

The next painful wave of contractions broke through her thoughts. Labour had not come on slowly or gently. And there was no point worrying about dust soiling Patrick’s jacket; the piece of clothing was now past being saved.

The jacket was of no concern to Patrick, who was kneeling beside Claudia. At that moment he would give a dozen of his finest jackets to make this woman he barely knew comfortable if only he could. But he had nothing close to a dozen of anything to make what lay ahead easier. The situation was dire. There was no way around that fact but Patrick intended to do everything to ensure Claudia remained calm and focused. All the while he fought his own battle with a past that was rushing back at him. Fine perspiration began lining his brow but he had to push through. He heard Claudia’s heavy breathing turn to panting and knew he couldn’t give in to his thoughts. Not for even a minute. He had to stay with Claudia.

For the time being at least.

‘There’s no cell reception but if I can get through on the elevator phone, who can I call? Your husband, boyfriend...your family?’

Claudia shook her head, a little embarrassed by the answer even before she delivered it. Harriet was on and off the communication grid for almost two days while she travelled and even if she could contact her it would be unfair to worry her. And she knew there was no point reaching out to the babies’ father. He wouldn’t care.

‘No, there’s no one to call.’

Patrick’s eyes met hers in silence. He was surprised and saddened to hear her answer. While she clearly had her defences up initially, Patrick had not suspected for even a moment that a woman like Claudia would be alone in the world.

Unexpectedly, he felt himself being pulled towards her. He was never pulled towards anyone. Not any more. Not for years. He had locked away the need to feel anything. To need anyone...or to be needed. But suddenly a tenuous and unforeseen bond was forming. And he suspected it was not due just to the confines of the elevator.

Claudia wriggled some more and looked down at the jacket. ‘I’m so sorry...’

‘Claudia—’ he cut in as he looked intently into her eyes, not shifting his gaze for even a moment, not allowing himself to betray, to any degree, the very real risks that he knew lay ahead ‘—you’re in labour and you think I’m worried about a jacket.’

‘But it’s ruined.’

‘The only thing I care about now is finding something clean for the babies. Do you have anything in your bag? Anything I can wrap them in?’

Claudia shook her head. While her bag was the fashionably oversized style, it held very little, other than her wallet, apartment keys, her phone, a thin, flimsy scarf, a small cosmetic purse and a bottle of water. And her ultrasound films.

Patrick couldn’t wait any longer. There would be two babies arriving and they needed to have something clean to rest upon while he tended to their mother. He was not going to put them on the floor of the elevator. Without hesitating, he began to unbutton his white linen shirt and, slipping it from his very toned and lightly tanned body, he spread it out.

Claudia knew she was staring. She was helpless to pull her gaze away. The man about to deliver her babies had stripped bare to the waist. It was overwhelming and almost too much for her to process. The whole situation was quickly morphing from a bad dream into a nightmare. She was about to give birth to the sons of a man who didn’t love her and they would be delivered by a half-naked stranger in a broken elevator. Tears began welling in her eyes as the waves of another contraction came. This one was more powerful than the last and she struggled to hide the level of pain.

Patrick reached for her hand. ‘I want you to squeeze my hand when the contractions happen.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him as the contraction passed and she felt uncomfortable getting any closer to the semi-naked stranger than she already was. His arms looked lean but powerful. And she could smell the light tones of his musky cologne.

‘I know you’ll be fine but if you squeeze my hand each time you have a contraction I’ll know how close together they are.’

‘I think you will be able to tell without me squeezing your hand.’

Patrick nodded. ‘Have it your way, but my hand is here if you need it.’

Still feeling wary, Claudia eyed him suspiciously, wondering who this man was, this man who was so willing to come to her aid. Only a few minutes before, they had exchanged less than friendly words. Now the man she had initially assumed to be a lawyer hiding a hangover behind dark glasses was in fact a doctor literally on bended knees helping her.

‘The contractions seem to be evenly spaced at the moment,’ he said, breaking through her thoughts.

‘But they’re awfully close and awfully painful. Does that mean the babies will be here soon?’

‘It could but it’s impossible to tell.’ Patrick hoped that it would be a prolonged labour. Prolonged enough to allow the technical team to open the elevator doors and bring in help.

‘Do you think there’s any chance they will get us out before my babies arrive?’

‘They’re doing their best.’

* * *

Ten minutes passed with no news from outside and two more contractions. Claudia caught her breath and leant back against the cold walls of the elevator. It was soothing on her now clammy skin. The air was starting to warm up, and she imagined it would be stifling in a short time if the doors were not opened soon. But they would be. She had to hold on to the belief that any minute paramedics would burst through the steel barriers and transport her to hospital.

Patrick stretched his long legs out in front of him and rested against the adjacent cool wall. ‘So which London hospital had you planned on having the boys?’ he asked as he looked up at the ceiling for no particular reason. All sense of reason had left the elevator when Claudia began labour.

‘I thought the Wright Street Women’s and Children’s Hospital. I checked in online a few months back and it has a lovely birthing centre with floral wallpaper and midwives and everything my babies and I would need. I’ve booked an appointment with a midwife there next week.’

‘Well, you won’t be needing that appointment. Not for this delivery anyway, but perhaps you could book in for your next baby.’

‘I’m not sure there will be a next,’ she replied quickly with raised eyebrows, still not forgetting the pain of the contraction that had barely passed.

‘Perhaps you will change your mind and have more but these children will definitely be born in LA. With any luck, the paramedics will have us out soon and they’ll be born at the Mercy Hospital.’

Claudia felt her pulse race a little. ‘What if that doesn’t happen?’

Patrick turned to her and took her hand in his. Suddenly the sensation of her warm skin on his made him feel something more than he had felt in many years. It made him feel close to being alive. He swallowed and pushed away the feeling. That sort of intimacy had no place in his life. For the last decade, whenever he felt a woman’s body against his, there was nothing more than mutual pleasure. It didn’t mean anything to either of them. They served a purpose to each other and walked away. Feeling anything more was not worth the risk.

He couldn’t get attached to a woman he didn’t know who was about to give birth to the children of another man. The idea was ridiculous.

‘Let’s not go there, Claudia. The medical team will be here soon.’

‘But they may not...’ she argued.

‘Then we’ll bring two healthy boys into the world on our own.’ He said it instinctively but as the words escaped his mouth he prayed it would not come to that.

Claudia took another deep breath. There was a chance they weren’t going to be rescued. And she had to prepare herself for the imminent wave of the next contraction and then worse. She closed her eyes.

Patrick studied her. ‘Now don’t go closing your beautiful eyes on me,’ he told her. ‘I need you to listen to me and work with me. You will get through this but you have to stay strong. You have your children to think of.’

Slowly she forced her lids open and found herself looking into the warmest eyes she had ever seen. Her stomach did a little somersault and it wasn’t a contraction.

‘That’s better,’ he told her with a smile filled with so much warmth she thought her heart would melt. Everything he was making her feel was unexpected. And the feelings seemed so real. Was it just the intense situation they were facing or was there something about the man that was very different from anyone she had ever met?

She wasn’t sure.

But his nearness was affecting her. She doubted he was trying to affect—he just was.

‘What about you—do you have any children? Did your family move here to LA too?’ She rattled off successive questions, trying to deflect the blush she suddenly feared he had brought to her cheeks. She could see there was no wedding band on his hand but, as she knew first-hand, the lack of a ring on a man’s finger did not bring any certainty there was no wife. It was out of character for her to be so direct but nothing about the situation was normal.

‘No, I’m not married, Claudia, and the rest of my family...well, they’re back in the UK...’ Patrick’s words trailed off. He wasn’t about to tell Claudia about his life, his past or his loss. After twelve years it was still raw at times but now focusing on Claudia removed his desire to give any consideration to his own pain. He had to be in the moment for the woman who needed him. He couldn’t think about what had happened all those years ago or the price he still paid every day.

He had to let something go.

And that had to be the past—for the time being. But he knew that it would come back to him. It always did.

‘Do you want children one day? I guess if you’ve done this before, bringing them into the world would make you want a brood or run the other way,’ she cut in again. As she felt the warmth in her face subside she was slightly relieved on that front but the need for the banter continued. Any distraction would do.

He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. She was unwittingly making it very hard to stay in the moment. ‘No,’ he said, not wanting to go into any detail. The answer was not that he didn’t like children; in fact it ran far deeper than that. Children meant family and he never planned on being part of a family again. The pain still lingered, twelve years after he had been forced to walk away from his own.

‘So am I right—you don’t want to take your job home?’

‘You’re full of questions, aren’t you?’

Claudia didn’t answer. She felt the next contraction building and as it rolled in she couldn’t say anything. She dropped her head to her chest and took in shallow breaths.

Without prompting, Patrick’s hands gently massaged her back. Instinctively, he knew what was happening and he kept up the physical therapy until it passed. And then a few moments longer.

She felt his hands linger, then shook herself back to reality. He was a doctor doing his job. Nothing more.

‘Why did you move to LA?’ she piped up, then bit her lip as she realised it was none of her business and she had no clue what had driven her to ask him such personal questions. She felt as if the pain had taken over her mind. She was acting like a different person, someone who suddenly wanted to know everything about Patrick. Perhaps it was to distract herself. Perhaps not. But she knew the moment the words fell from her mouth that she had overstepped the boundaries of polite conversation. ‘Please forget I asked. Blame it on the stress. I really am exhibiting the worst manners today. I’ve asked the most improper questions and ruined your jacket...’

‘Forgiven for both.’ Patrick hesitated. ‘I guess I’m just a private person, Claudia. I’m happy to answer any medical questions, anything at all, but I’d prefer to leave the rest alone. Suffice to say, my family and I didn’t see eye to eye about something that happened and this opportunity came up. So I left London and headed here.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Claudia suddenly felt even more embarrassed that she had asked but she also felt a little sad for him. She barely knew the man but, with the way he was taking care of her, she suddenly felt that she wanted to be on his side in a situation she knew nothing about.

Patrick knew it sounded as if they had parted ways on something insignificant. He thought it was best to leave it at that. There was no need to mention that he’d made the opportunity to allow him to move to the US. It was something he’d had to do to help everyone with their grief. To not be there, reminding them every day of what had happened.

It was not the time or place to tell a woman he had just met that his sister had died.

And he had taken the blame for her death.

An unspoken agreement not to revisit the conversation about his family was made in the awkward silence by both of them.

‘I’ll need to examine you in a few minutes and assess whether you have begun to dilate and, if you have, if the first baby is visible,’ he told her as he pulled himself from the past back to where he belonged.

Suddenly the elevator lights began to flicker. Claudia bit her lip nervously. She felt her chin begin to quiver but was powerless to stop it. All questions disappeared. She didn’t want anything from Patrick other than reassurance that her babies would survive.

Patrick drew a deep breath but managed to keep his body language in check. If they lost the lights, then he could not convince himself there would be a good outcome but he would never let Claudia know that. He even refused to admit it to himself.

‘I need to do the exam while we still have some lights to work with; if we lose them it will be challenging as I’ll have to work by feel alone. But, whatever happens, I’m here for you and your babies, Claudia, and together we’ll all get throughout this,’ Patrick told her with a firmness and urgency that did not disguise the seriousness of the situation, but he also managed to make her feel secure in the knowledge that he was with her all the way. He filled his lungs with the warm air that surrounded them, determined he would do his damnedest to make his prayers a reality.

She nodded her consent as the contraction began to subside, along with her uncontrollable need to push.

‘Breathe slowly and deeply,’ he said while he stroked her arm and waited for the contraction to pass before he began his examination. Twins made the birth so much more complicated, along with his lack of equipment and the risk of losing the lights.

‘Have you delivered many babies?’

‘Yes, I’ve delivered many babies, Claudia, but never in an elevator and not for...’

The elevator phone rang and stopped Patrick from explaining how long it had been since his last delivery. Instinctively, he answered the phone. ‘Yes?’

‘This is the utilities manager. We’re working to have you out as soon as possible but it may be another twenty minutes to half an hour. Our only rostered technician is across town. How’s the young woman?’

‘She’s in labour.’

‘Hell... Okay, that’s gonna be brutal on her.’ The man’s knee-jerk reaction was loud. ‘I’ll put the tech to get here ASAP or get an off-duty one over there stat. We’ve already got an ambulance en route.’

‘That would be advisable,’ Patrick responded in an even tone, not wanting to add to Claudia’s building distress. ‘I’m about to assess her progress but you need to ensure there are two ambulances waiting when your technician gets us out. We’re dealing with the birth of two premature infants so ensure the paramedics are despatched with humidicribs and you have an obstetrician standing by with a birthing kit including cord clamps and Syntocinon.’ Then he lowered his voice and added, ‘And instruct them to bring plasma. There’s always the slight risk of a postpartum haemorrhage.’ With that he hung up the phone to let the team outside do their best to get medical help to them as soon as possible.

He immediately turned his attention back to Claudia, who lay against the elevator wall with small beads of perspiration building on her brow and the very palpable fear of what lay ahead written on her face.

‘I don’t want my babies to die.’

‘Claudia, you need to listen to me,’ he began with gentleness in his voice along with a reassuring firmness. ‘We are going to get through this. Your babies will be fine but you need to help me.’

Claudia couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t lift her gaze from her stomach and the babies inside of her. Fear surged through her veins. It was real. They weren’t getting out of the elevator. No one was coming to rescue them. No one was going to take her to the hospital. The harsh reality hit her. Her babies would be born inside the metal walls that surrounded them.

And they might not survive.

‘I am going to have to cut your underwear free. I don’t want to try and lift you and remove it.’

Claudia felt her heart race and her mind spin. She was losing control and the fear was not just physical. Deep inside, she knew the odds were stacked against her and her boys but she appreciated that Patrick hadn’t voiced that. The man with the sunglasses wasn’t anything close to what she’d thought. He was about to bring her sons into the world.

And she suddenly had no choice but to trust him.

Her hand ran across her mouth and tugged at her lips nervously. ‘Fine, just do it,’ she managed to say as she steeled herself for what was about to happen to her, her boys and Patrick as the urge to push and the pain began to overtake her senses once again.

Patrick ripped off the gloves that had handled the elevator telephone, covered his hands in antibacterial solution and slipped on another pair of gloves. Carefully using sterile scissors, he gently cut her underwear from her and checked the progress of her labour.

‘You are fully dilated and your first son’s head is visible,’ he told her. ‘Labour is moving fast and you’re doing great. Just keeping breathing slowly...’

His words were cut short by the cry she gave with the next painful contraction. More painful than the previous one.

‘I can’t do this. I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘Should I be as scared to death as I am right now?’

‘No,’ he said, leaning in towards her. ‘Just remember, Claudia, you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together. You and I will bring your babies into the world.’

He prayed, as every word slipped from his now dry mouth, that he could do what he promised. He had the expertise, he reminded himself. But he also knew that was not always enough. There were some situations that no skills could fight.

Steeling himself, he knew he was prepared to fight for Claudia and her boys.

She closed her eyes and swallowed.

‘I need you to try and get onto your hands and knees...’

‘Why?’ Her eyes opened wide. ‘I thought you have babies lying on your back. Is there something wrong?’ Panic showed on her face as she stared into Patrick’s eyes, searching for reassurance but frightened of what he might tell her.

‘It will be easier on you and your babies if you’re on all fours,’ he told her. ‘It opens up the birth canal and, even though it may seem uncomfortable, believe me, it will be far better than being on your back. Just try it. Here, I’ll help you.’

He reached for her and she felt the warmth and strength in his hold as his hands guided her into the position he needed to best deliver the babies. He made sure her hands and knees were still resting on the damp jacket, not the bare floor.

‘I’d like to put a cool compress on you. It’s getting warm in here but I’m running out of clothing to give you.’

Even in pain, Claudia smiled at his remark. It was true. He had given his jacket and his shirt. ‘There’s a clean scarf in my bag but it’s very small. You could wet that.’

Patrick reached for her large tan leather bag and dragged it unceremoniously across the metal flooring. He emptied the contents onto the floor, found the small patterned scarf and then noticed the films.

‘Are those films for your obstetrician?’

She turned her head slightly. ‘Yes, he was going to check them and then sign the papers to allow me to fly home to London.’

He pushed the envelope to the side and took her bottle of water and sparingly dampened the scarf. Gently lifting the sweat-dampened curls on the nape of her neck, he rested the tiny compress on her hot skin. There was nothing he could do about whatever showed on the films now. They wouldn’t change anything in the confines of the elevator. He had no idea what the next few minutes would hold but he would be beside her and do whatever he could to keep Claudia and her babies alive.

Feeling his hand on her skin felt so calming and reassuring and Claudia wondered if it was the touch of his skin against hers as much as the makeshift compress. But neither gave relief when the next powerful contraction came and she cried out with the pain.

Her cries tugged at Patrick’s heart. He hated the fact there was nothing he could do. But he needed to focus on delivering both babies or risk losing them all. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Suddenly the first baby began to enter the world. A mass of thick black hair curled like a halo around his perfect tiny face.

‘Just push slowly and think about your breathing,’ he instructed her. ‘We need that to control the baby’s arrival. We don’t want to rush him. You can tear your skin and I want to avoid that.’

The urge to give a giant push was overwhelming but Claudia knew she had to let her breathing slow the pace. She thought of Patrick’s handsome face and tried to follow his instructions. There were a few more contractions and finally Claudia’s first baby was born into Patrick’s waiting hands. He let out a tiny cry as Patrick quickly cleared his mouth of mucous and quickly checked his vital signs.

The baby was small but not so small as to put him in immediate danger by not having access to a humidicrib. Patrick had feared he might have been tinier considering the gestational age and the fact he was a twin. He clamped the cord with a sterile surgical tie before he laid him on the shirt. The baby had endured a harsh entry into the world and the shirt was a far cry from a soft landing but, until his brother was born, there was little Patrick could do for the new arrival. He could not put the child to Claudia’s breast as she needed to remain on all fours until the second baby was delivered.

Another contraction began and the second baby was quickly on its way. Patrick hoped that he would not be faced with a foot. That would mean a breech birth and complications he did not want to contemplate.

That next painful contraction came and Claudia cried out loudly but managed with each following breath to push her second baby head first into the world. And once again into Patrick’s arms, where the baby took his first breath and cried for the first time. Patrick checked the second baby’s vital signs and again was relieved that the delivery had no complications. It had progressed far better than Patrick had imagined.

With beads of perspiration now covering her entire body, Claudia looked over at her two sons and felt a love greater than she’d thought possible.

And a closeness to the man who had delivered them. He was like her knight in shining armour. And she would be indebted to him forever.

Quite apart from being an amazing doctor, Patrick was a wonderful man.

Through the fog of her emotionally drained state, Claudia suddenly suspected her feelings for Patrick ran deeper than simply gratitude for saving them all.

* * *

Patrick remained quiet. There were still two afterbirths and Claudia to consider. Despite the peaceful and contented look she wore, he knew they were not out of the woods yet.

Gently he placed the second baby next to his tiny brother and wrapped the shirt around them both before he carefully helped Claudia from her knees onto her back again. He grabbed her leather bag and made a makeshift pillow for her head. Claudia was past caring about the bag or her own comfort as she watched her tiny sons lying so close to her.

Patrick reached for them. ‘I’m going to rest the babies on you while we wait for the afterbirth.’

While the delivery had been relatively straightforward, Patrick was aware that Claudia’s double birth put her at increased risk of haemorrhage. Gently he placed the two tiny boys into their mother’s arms and he watched as her beautiful face lit up further as she cradled them. Her beauty seemed to be magnified with the boys now securely with her and, with her genes, they would no doubt be very handsome young men.

Within minutes, part of the placenta was delivered but as Patrick examined it he was concerned that it was not intact. Claudia would require a curette in hospital if the remaining placenta wasn’t expelled. But, that aside and despite the surroundings, Claudia had delivered two seemingly healthy boys. Patrick took a deep breath and filled his lungs as he looked at Claudia with a sense of pride for the strength shown by a woman he barely knew.

Then he noticed her face had become a little pale.

‘I sort of feel a little cold now,’ she said softly, as her body began to shiver. ‘It feels odd; I was so hot before. There’s no pain but...’

Patrick noticed her eyes were becoming glassy and she was losing her grip on the boys. There was something very wrong. Quickly he scooped them from her weakening hold and placed them together beside her, still wrapped in his shirt. He felt for her pulse. It was becoming fainter. He looked down to see blood pouring from Claudia and pooling on the jacket underneath her.

It was his worst nightmare—a postpartum haemorrhage.

Claudia had fifty percent more blood in her body because of the pregnancy, which would help, but, with the amount of blood she had already lost on the floor, it would still only buy them a small amount of time. He needed to encourage her uterus to contract, shutting off the open blood vessels. Immediately he began to massage her belly through to her uterus but after a minute he could see there was no difference. She was barely lucid and he needed to administer a synthetic form of the hormone that would naturally assist, but that was on the other side of the closed elevator doors with the paramedics. It wasn’t something he carried in his medical bag. Not now anyway. Once he would have had everything he now needed to save Claudia—but that was a lifetime ago.

‘Claudia—’ he ceased the massage momentarily and patted her hand ‘—I need you to try to feed one of the boys. It will help to stimulate a hormone that will lessen the bleeding. Do you understand?’

‘Uh-huh,’ she muttered while trying to keep her eyes from closing. ‘I feel so light-headed.’

‘That’s the blood loss. I’m going to do everything I can to stop it until help arrives, but again we need to work together. You’ll be on your way to hospital very soon.’

He reached down and gently unwrapped the babies and, picking up the larger of the twins, he lifted Claudia’s tank top and bra and placed him onto her breast. Instinctively the baby latched onto his mother and began to suckle while Patrick continued the massaging.

‘Do you have any names for the boys?’ he asked, trying to keep Claudia focused as he dealt with the medical emergency that was unfolding before his eyes.

She tried to think but the names weren’t there. They were special names and they should have spilled out without any effort but she was befuddled, which wasn’t her. ‘I think...’ She paused momentarily as the names she had chosen now seemed strangely out of reach. She blinked to bring herself back on track. ‘Thomas...and Luca...after each of their great-grandpas.’

‘I think they are strong names for two little fighters. Is this baby Thomas or Luca?’

Claudia smiled down at her son, still attached to her breast but not really sucking successfully. ‘Thomas...but I think he’s tired already and a bit too small.’

‘I think you’re right on both counts.’

‘I’m feeling quite dizzy again.’ She paused as she felt herself wavering and her vision was starting to blur. Fear was mounting again inside her. ‘Am I going to die?’

‘No, you’re going to pull through and raise your two sons until they are grown men.’

Claudia felt weaker by the minute. She knew there was something very serious happening, even though she couldn’t see the blood. ‘If I don’t make it...’

‘You will,’ he argued as he reached for Thomas, who was unable to suckle, and placed him safely on the floor beside his brother, Luca.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She felt too weak to fight. ‘You need to contact my sister, Harriet. Her details are in my phone. She needs to be there for my boys if I can’t be.’

‘Claudia, listen to me. You’re going to make it, but I’m going to have to do something very uncomfortable for you.’

‘What?’ she asked in a worried whisper.

‘I’m going to compress your uterus with my hands. It will further slow the bleeding.’

She nodded but she felt as if she was close to drifting off to sleep. ‘If you have to, then do it.’

‘Try to stay awake,’ he pleaded with her as he attempted to manually compress the uterus with the firm pressure of his hands.

Minutes passed but still the blood was flowing over his hands to the floor beneath her. Claudia needed to be in a hospital and she needed to be there now. This was something more serious than the usual postpartum blood loss.

She was dangerously close to losing consciousness as he gently removed his hands. The manual pressure could not stop the bleeding. Claudia needed surgical intervention if she was to survive. He reached for the films and ripped open the envelope. The films scattered on the floor but, as he grabbed the report, his worst fears were confirmed. Claudia’s placenta had invaded the walls of her uterus. Every part of his body shuddered. It was déjà vu. The prognosis was identical to what he had faced all those years ago. There was no way her obstetrician would have allowed her to board a plane with the condition. Claudia would have delivered her sons in America, whether it had been this day or another.

With a heavy heart, he dropped his gloves and the report to the floor and pulled a barely conscious Claudia into his arms, where he held her while he stroked the faces of the little boys lying on the floor beside them. If help didn’t arrive within a few minutes he would lose Claudia.

And her two tiny babies would never know their beautiful, brave mother.


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4c2abe1b-3400-5fb2-8b80-d0f6417c2976)

AS CLAUDIA’S BODY suddenly fell limp in Patrick’s arms, he heard the doors open behind him and instantly felt a firm grip on his bare shoulder.

‘We’ve got it from here,’ the deep voice said.

Patrick turned his head to see a full medical team rushing towards them. He had never been happier in his life than he was at that moment and, with adrenaline surging through his veins, he immediately began firing instructions at lightning speed. The miracle Claudia needed had arrived at the moment he had run out of options.

‘We’re dealing with a postpartum haemorrhage—she needs Syntocinon immediately and a catheter inserted so that the uterus has a better chance of contracting with an empty bladder. If she doesn’t stabilise she’ll be looking at a transfusion. Forget cross-matching as there may not be time; just start plasma now and have O negative waiting in OR.’

Patrick moved away as the medical team stepped in to begin the treatment he had ordered. Immediately they inserted an IV line, began a plasma transfusion then administered some pain relief and Syntocinon in an attempt to stop Claudia’s bleeding while another two paramedics collected the baby boys and left the elevator with them securely inside portable humidicribs.

‘Any idea why she’s still bleeding?’ the attending doctor asked.

‘Placenta accreta,’ Patrick said as he reached for the films lying on the floor. He kept his voice low so he would not alarm Claudia. ‘I checked the report on the ultrasound films. Only a very small amount of the placenta was delivered and the rest is still firmly entrenched in the uterus wall. If the report is correct, she may be looking at a surgery but a complete hysterectomy should be the surgeon’s last option. I doubt she’s more than late twenties, if that, so she might like to keep her womb.’

‘I’m sure they’ll proceed conservatively if they can.’

Patrick nodded. He had no idea what the future would hold for Claudia and he wanted her to have every choice possible. ‘The boys appear fine but they’ll need a thorough examination with the paediatrician,’ Patrick continued, not taking his eyes from Claudia. ‘One is a little smaller than the other but let’s hope there’s no underlying issues with their premature arrival.’

‘You did a remarkable job, all things considered,’ the paramedics told Patrick as they watched the barely conscious Claudia being lifted onto the gurney and then securely but gently strapped in.

Keeping his attention on Claudia, who was beginning to show signs of being lucid, the doctor added, ‘And you, young lady, are very lucky this man was sharing the elevator. It would not have been this outcome without him, that’s for certain. You and your boys all owe your lives to him.’

Claudia smiled a meek smile and held out her hand in an effort to show her gratitude. Patrick cupped it gently in his own strong hands and smiled back at her then he turned to the attending doctor. ‘I’ll be travelling side-saddle to the hospital if there’s room.’

‘There’s definitely room.’

* * *

For a little over three hours, Patrick divided his time between pacing the corridors outside Recovery and visiting the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to check on Luca and Thomas. They had given him a consulting coat to cover his bare chest upon arrival at the hospital. Claudia’s dark-haired boys, one with sparkling blue eyes and the other with deep brown like their mother, were doing very well and he felt a deep and very unexpected bond with them. A bond that he hadn’t felt towards anyone, let alone tiny people, for more years than he cared to remember.

But these boys were special, perhaps because he’d delivered them in a crisis, or perhaps because their mother was clearly a very special woman. Perhaps it was both but, whatever was driving him to stay, he knew the three of them were bringing out protective feelings in him. A sense that he was needed and almost as if he belonged there. He should have felt unnerved and wanted to run but he didn’t. That need to protect himself from being hurt was overridden by the need to protect Claudia, Thomas and Luca.

Both boys weighed a little over four pounds, which was a relief. They were still in their humidicribs and being monitored closely but both had passed all the paediatrician’s initial tests and were being gavage fed by the neonatal nurses when Patrick left the nursery and headed back to check on their mother. Her surgery had taken far longer than he had anticipated. He had for a moment contemplated scrubbing in to assist when they’d arrived in Emergency and were rushed around to the OR but he’d immediately thought better of it. A reality check reminded him that his last obstetric surgery had ended his career.

Patrick wanted her to be spared the additional stress and long-term repercussions of the hysterectomy if possible and voiced that again upon arrival. The surgical resident had reassured Patrick that Dr Sally Benton was well respected in the field of gynaecological surgery and that Claudia would be in expert hands. Patrick hoped that the option to give birth again one day in the pretty delivery room with floral wallpaper, midwives and pain relief was not taken away. But, three hours later, he knew the reality of her surgery taking so long meant she had probably undergone a hysterectomy. And she would have to give up on that dream.

‘I’m Sally Benton.’ She pulled her surgical cap free and outstretched her hand.

‘Patrick Spencer,’ he responded as he met her handshake. He looked at the woman before him. She was tall and thin, her short black hair with smatterings of grey framed her pretty face and he suspected she was in her early fifties.

‘Dr Spencer, I assume.’

‘Yes.’

‘I wanted to personally thank you for the medical intervention you provided in the elevator. Miss Monticello is in Recovery now and she certainly wouldn’t be if you hadn’t done such an amazing job delivering her sons and keeping her alive. If you hadn’t been with her today, there would most definitely have been a question mark over their survival.’

Patrick drew a deep breath and chose to ignore the compliment. ‘Was it conservative surgery?’

‘No, unfortunately, Miss Monticello underwent a full hysterectomy to stop the haemorrhaging. She retained her ovaries but her uterus has been removed,’ Dr Benton continued as she took a seat in the corridor and indicated Patrick to do the same. ‘The attending doctor briefed me on your diagnosis of suspected placenta accreta, but the depth of invasion was not first but second grade. I was faced with placenta increta as the chorionic villi had invaded the muscular layer of the uterine wall so I had no option but to remove her womb. She was lucky that it had not spread through the uterine wall to other organs such as the bladder. Let’s just say I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with that; as you would know, even in this day and age, there’s still a six to seven percent mortality rate for that, due to the complications.’

Patrick knew the statistics for death only too well.

‘Thank you, Dr Benton.’

‘Don’t thank me. As I said before, you did the hard work keeping her alive. And she has two wonderful little boys. Perhaps the loss of her womb will not be a complete tragedy.’

Patrick nodded. He wondered how Claudia would react to the need for a hysterectomy.

‘And how are her sons doing?’ the surgeon enquired.

‘Very well,’ Patrick said with a sense of pride that surprised him. ‘They’re handsome young men and a good weight for their gestational age.’

‘Great. Now that’s out of the way and we’ve spoken about our mutual patients, I have a personal question for you,’ Dr Benton continued. ‘How do you know Miss Monticello?’

‘We were just sharing the elevator.’

Her expression revealed her surprise. ‘Well, that’s serendipity for you. I don’t think she could have asked for a better travelling companion. Where do you practice obstetrics?’ Then, without waiting for an answer, she added, ‘Am I right in assuming, with your accent, and because I haven’t heard of you around LA, that your practice is out of state or perhaps abroad?’

Patrick hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about himself but he knew the doctor sitting beside him had every right to enquire. ‘No, I practice here in LA but I’m not in OBGYN.’

‘Really?’ Her brow wrinkled as she considered his response. ‘What’s your field then?’

‘I’m a board certified cosmetic surgeon.’

Once again, she didn’t hide her surprise. ‘I’d never have picked that,’ she said with a grin on her somewhat tired face as she stood up and again offered a handshake. ‘Well, Dr Spencer, if you ever get tired of your current field, you should consider obstetrics. There’s a shortage of experts in the field and you’re very skilled. Your intervention was nothing short of amazing in the conditions you were forced to work in. As I said, Miss Monticello owes her life to you. She will be in her room in another two hours or so. She lost a lot of blood, as you know, so we’ll be monitoring her in Recovery for a little longer than we normally would. But I’m sure she’d be pleased to see you.’

Patrick met her handshake and she smiled before she left him alone.

* * *

Patrick spent the next two hours with Luca and Thomas. He had called his practice and rearranged his schedule. While the boys were being monitored closely he still didn’t want to leave. Not yet anyway. Thomas was in a humidicrib and Luca required additional oxygen to be provided through an oxy-hood so he was in an open bed warmer. The neonatologist felt certain that would only be a temporary measure as both appeared to be healthy and a satisfactory weight for their gestational age. Patrick was aware they had some basic milestones to achieve, both in weight and development, before they would be released; he doubted it would be more than three or four weeks before they would be allowed to leave hospital with their mother.

He went downstairs to the florist and picked the largest floral bouquet they had and two brown bears with blue bows. Claudia had told him she had no one she could reach out to and he knew how that felt only too well. He tried not to think of what he had lost when he’d walked away from his family.

Only now at least Claudia did have two little people to call her family. Still, he knew her room would be devoid of anything to brighten her day and lift her spirits and, after the day she had endured, she deserved a room filled with flowers. And something to remind her of the boys when she was resting and not able to be with them in the neonatal nursery. And when she had to face the reality of the hysterectomy she had undergone without her consent.

The nurse at the station arranged for the flowers to be placed near her bed.

Waiting outside the room twenty minutes later, he couldn’t contain, nor fully understand, the smile that spread across his face and the warmth that surged through his body when he saw her hospital bed being wheeled down the corridor towards him. She was still pale but not as drained as when he had last seen her, and she hadn’t noticed him. In the pit of his stomach he still remembered her limp body collapsing against his and he’d thought the boys had lost their mother.

Patiently he remained outside as she was settled into her room but, as the nurses exited, he tapped on the door that was ajar.

‘Are you up to a visitor?’

‘Patrick?’

‘How did you guess?’ he asked as he quietly entered her room. ‘Perhaps it’s the British accent—there are not a lot of us around these parts so I guess it’s a giveaway.’

‘In this city, it’s a dead giveaway.’ It was more than just his accent, but Claudia couldn’t tell Patrick that it was also his reassuring tone that told her exactly who was at her door. It was the same strong voice that had kept her going when she’d wanted to give up. It was the voice of the man who had saved her and her sons.





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