have no idea of the urgency of his wife’s condition, but, even so, from the way he had strolled down the corridor minutes ago, he hadn’t been in too much of a hurry to get here, anyway! And his wife was lovely, absolutely beautiful, with a warm personality, and obviously so worried that something was going to go wrong during the birth of the baby she so much wanted.
Gaye’s eyes were coolly green as she looked across at the other woman’s husband. ‘It was my understanding that Mrs Hunter wanted you to be present at the birth.’ She quirked blond brows at his obvious reluctance to comply.
He swallowed hard, looking as if he had gone slightly pale beneath his tan. ‘She does?’
He was wasting precious time, deliberately so, Gaye felt sure. But it was the patient’s welfare that she was concerned with, not his—and Abbie Hunter wanted him with her at their child’s birth.
‘Come along with me,’ she told him briskly. ‘I’ll see you gowned up, and take you to Theatre myself.’ She strode ahead of him down the corridor, tall and loose-limbed, her blue uniform doing little to hide the perfect curves beneath.
Something Mr Hunter was all too aware of, Gaye realised with irritation as she turned back to check he was following her. Not only was he right behind her, but he was watching the gentle sway of her hips with obvious male appreciation! Her opinion of men wasn’t very high at the best of times, but really! This man’s wife was in labour, about to give birth to his child—and he was not only reluctant to be with her in Theatre, but was ogling the attributes of another woman. Typical!
Gaye’s manner was even more frosty as she provided them both with Theatre gowns. In all her years of nursing, latterly specialising in midwifery, she had never had a patient’s husband being openly flirtatious with her!
To make matters worse, once they were in Theatre, he took one look at his wife as she lay sleepily on the operating table, and went almost the same colour green as the gown he wore. Wonderful! They were going to have a faller... !
It happened, of course. Quite a lot of men found it difficult to cope with normal childbirth, let alone under these circumstances. But Mr Hunter had seemed such a self-confident individual, she would never have guessed he was squeamish. It showed you never could tell...
‘Talk to your wife,’ Gaye encouraged softly; if he fainted then the Theatre team would just work around him where he fell!
He frowned down at her. ‘My wife? But—’
‘She’s sleepy, but awake,’ Gaye assured him. ‘Talk to her. It will help.’ Both of them, she hoped—Abbie Hunter to remain calm, her husband to stop from collapsing at their feet!
Pleasure lit up the violet-blue eyes of the woman on the operating table as she looked up and saw him, although she frowned slightly. ‘Jonathan...?’
‘Jarrett is on his way, Abbie,’ Jonathan reassured her calmly—despite his chalk-white face!—as he stepped forward to her side. ‘He’ll be with us as soon as he can.’
Well, at least he was doing his bit now, Gaye acknowledged with satisfaction. If they could just stop him from fainting...!
‘Just keep talking to her,’ Gaye continued to encourage. ‘And your son will be with you both very shortly.’ It didn’t surprise her that this couple knew the sex of their child, or indeed that they had already named him; the Hunter family, like most of the couples who chose to give birth here, were rich and affluent, and it was easier, as regards decorating the nursery and choosing clothes, if they knew the sex of their child before it was born.
Mr Gilchrist had begun the operation now, and it was not the time for a tall, dark-haired man to come striding in, unannounced and ungowned, quickly followed by a protesting midwife. What on earth—?
‘Will someone kindly get him out of my Theatre?’ the surgeon snarled impatiently as he continued to concentrate on his patient. ‘Anyone would think this was a damned circus, not an operating Theatre!’ he added disgustedly.
‘I’m not about to go anywhere, James,’ the tall, dark-haired man informed him imperiously. ‘That’s my wife you have there.’ He nodded towards Abbie Hunter. ‘And I intend being with her during the birth of our child.’
His wife? His child...?
Gaye looked from the dark intruder to the man standing at Abbie Hunter’s side, holding her hand; if the newcomer was her husband, then who on earth was he? James Gilchrist was right; this was turning into a circus—and she was in the middle of it!
James Gilchrist straightened, looking frowningly at Abbie Hunter’s husband. ‘I realise who you are, Jarrett,’ he accepted dryly, turning to the man at Abbie’s other side. ‘And whoever you are I suggest you get out and let us get on with the birth of this baby,’ he rasped.
The blond man stepped back, taking off his gown and handing it to the dark-haired man who had now come fully into the room. ‘With pleasure,’ he agreed gratefully. ‘I’ll be waiting outside,’ he told the man called Jarrett—before beating a hasty retreat.
Gaye followed him. Somehow she had made the most terrible gaffe of her career, had taken the wrong man in to see the birth of a baby. But Jonathan Hunter had let her do it! Why on earth hadn’t he told her he wasn’t Abbie’s husband? She was never going to live this down. And as for Mr Gilchrist—!
‘Exactly who are you?’ Gaye demanded once the two of them were back outside in the corridor, her green eyes flashing like twin jewels.
The colour was slowly coming back into the man’s cheeks, the gleam of humour returning into his eyes too. ‘Jonathan Hunter,’ he supplied unhelpfully, head tilting to one side as she still looked up at him questioningly. ‘Uncle, not father, of the baby,’ he explained.
Jarrett Hunter’s brother. Abbie Hunter’s brother-in-law.
Gaye thought back to the dark man who had stridden so assuredly into the operating Theatre demanding to be at his wife’s side, realising now that he had those same unusual golden eyes. But other than that there were no similarities between the two to indicate their relationship, one so tall, dark, and commanding, the other tall and golden-blond, with a lazy ease of charm. Although she had a feeling Jonathan Hunter could be just as arrogant as his brother if the occasion arose...
She looked at him irritatedly. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me that in the beginning?’
He raised mocking blond brows. ‘As I recall, you hardly gave me a chance to explain anything!’
Colour suffused her cheeks as she remembered the way she had reacted on hearing his name; as he claimed, she hadn’t really given him a chance to explain his relationship to Abbie Hunter. Part of the reason for that, she knew, but would never admit to anyone but herself, was the fact that she had felt the pull of his magnetic attraction from the first. And she had been angry with herself, and him, before he’d even opened his mouth! Her behaviour towards him had been all the sharper because of that.
‘If it makes you feel any better,’ Jonathan Hunter continued, ‘if Jarrett hadn’t arrived when he did, he would have expected me to be in there with Abbie.’ He nodded in the direction of the operating Theatre they had just left. ‘He and Abbie have only been married a couple of years, and this is their first child together. It’s unfortunate it happened a little earlier than expected, otherwise I can assure you you would have had no trouble whatsoever contacting Jarrett—because he
