The Pregnant Midwife. Fiona McArthur

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The Pregnant Midwife - Fiona McArthur Mills & Boon Medical

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and tried to remember the question. She wasn’t going to let him do this to her again. She wasn’t going to let him tantalise her with possibilities and then refrigerate her with his chilly moral lectures.

      Her brain clicked into gear, no thanks to him.

      ‘Afraid? Only of leeches.’ She shuddered. ‘I discovered that on a survival course. But that’s why I’m a midwife and neonatal nurse and not a doctor like you.’

      The others laughed and Ellen looked admiringly across at Hunter. ‘I’ll bet you’re not afraid of anything, Hunter.’

      Kirsten only just resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she turned back to look at the map again. As she did, she saw that Hunter was watching her and not Ellen. ‘I’m a commitment-phobe. I have one other phobia but as it’s not flying, it shouldn’t worry you,’ he quipped, and arched his eyebrows at Kirsten.

      Jim called them all to order and the meeting started. They discussed rosters and allocation of calls and the division of labour to ensure the skill mix remained even among the disciplines while integrating the new staff member.

      When the meeting was over, Jim took Kirsten’s arm. ‘Come and look at the latest photos.’ He flicked open the album and Kirsten smiled as photos of country hospital nurseries all over the state flipped over.

      Dozens of photos were of tiny patients, dwarfed by mountains of equipment, and the recognisable trousers and shirt of the MIRA team with the reflective stripe below the knees as they hovered over their charges. Kirsten even saw two old snapshots of herself, smiling into the camera. Then there were photographs of the aircraft and grinning pilots, as well as some aerial photos of different airstrips.

      Kirsten could feel the thrill stir in her stomach. She was meant to be here. The excitement that had been there before she’d met Hunter Morgan was here again too. The intensity she’d planned to fill the hollow emptiness left from her shattered relationship with Hunter rekindled.

      ‘Glad to be back, my dear?’ Jim said as she closed the album.

      Kirsten smiled up at him. ‘MIRA is something I’ll always love.’

      ‘We’re lucky to have you. Welcome home, Kirsten.’

      Kirsten hugged the older man but her eyes drifted to Hunter, who raised one eyebrow cynically then turned away. Just one annoying fly in the ointment, she thought to herself, and suppressed a sigh.

      Hunter left the room as if he were back in the camel race, out of control. Despite the fact he was heading towards the neonatal intensive care unit and his tiny patients. The great thing about babies was they had no ulterior motives. They struggled to survive by sheer tiny heart and determination and the skill of their carers, and you could trust them. Not like women.

      As he entered the huge teaching hospital, his thoughts kept drifting back to that last scene of Jim with his arm around Kirsten. Hunter couldn’t believe that Kirsten was here at MIRA and, knowing his luck, no doubt would show up in his NICU. And as before, she’d be blatantly in his face. The hell of it was, he couldn’t deny he was still attracted to her.

      Nearly six months ago, he’d begun to let her close, until that episode with Jack Cosgrove. Painfully, but almost with relief, his heart had hardened implacably as if pleased to justify that distance. Having been a cuckolded husband once before, Hunter had vowed to stay immune to the power of a woman. But Kirsten had burst into his black-and-white world like a comet and had showered him with so many bright moments and such a zest for life he’d been blasted out of his usual comfort zone. Thank God and good sense he hadn’t slept with her. Fantasies of her in his arms were bad enough, without having to contend with real memories.

      After the truth had come out, such had been his bitter disappointment at his own stupidity he’d found he could barely speak to the woman and it had become untenable for him to continue working there, though he’d cited other reasons for heading back to Sydney.

      Hunter stabbed the elevator button with more force than necessary and he spared a glare at the female orderly who warily shifted a few paces away from him. The last thing he would allow was distraction during neonatal transfers at MIRA. His passion for his work as his tiny patients struggled for life was what had helped him through Portia’s deceit. And it would get him through Kirsten’s return, he thought as the elevator doors opened. Getting out at his floor, he strode through the swing doors that led towards the neonatal intensive care unit. And he wouldn’t be distracted in his unit either.

      Kirsten had mapped her life out twelve years ago when her mother had died a year after her father. She’d decided she would be self-sufficient, travel and live the adventurous life she’d read about to escape a fifteen-year-old’s reality of her parents’ deaths. Until she’d begun, to her surprise, to imagine settling down with Hunter.

      Thanks to Hunter Morgan and his icy lectures, she remembered why she didn’t need any man, why she was determined to stay focussed on the two-bedroom flat she’d transferred her attention to. All she needed was a home to return to occasionally and the world was an adventure. The extra income for a casual night duty once a week in the NICU would help pay extra off her mortgage and maybe she’d even be able to start saving for her next overseas holiday.

      Her interview at NICU was brief and she was swiftly accepted as a casual RN to start immediately. Gloria Westerland, the nursing unit manager of the NICU, introduced her to the other staff.

      Hunter, her nemesis, just had to keep popping back into her life. Because she was prepared this time, Kirsten was pleased her reaction didn’t register on her face. When Gloria paused at the crib where Hunter examined one of his tiny patients, he barely looked up.

      ‘This is Kirsten Wilson, Hunter. She’s a very experienced NICU nurse and will be working Saturday nights here.’

      He grunted. ‘We’ve met. Burning the candle at both ends as usual, Kirsten?’ He nodded briefly and then went back to work without waiting for an answer. Kirsten stared at a point somewhere over his left shoulder and didn’t say anything. She was thankful when the NUM moved on.

      ‘Despite his lack of warmth in this instance…’ Gloria glanced curiously at the tall paediatrician and then turned back to Kirsten ‘…Hunter is a real asset to the unit. He’s kind, brilliant with the babies and contactable any time, day or night, for the five days of the fortnight we have him, and I guess you know he works at MIRA for the other five days.’ Gloria gazed back to where Hunter leaned over the infant. ‘And he’s not bad to look at.’

      Kirsten couldn’t help a glance over her shoulder. His face was chiselled into stern lines as he concentrated and she missed the brilliance of his smile. He’d been able to warm her across the room when he’d smiled at her, and it wasn’t only her that was affected. Gloria’s understatement drew an answering smile from Kirsten. Not bad to look at indeed. ‘We met in Dubai, but we’ve agreed to disagree. I’m not worried.’

      Gloria nodded. ‘That explains it. So you’re sure you might want some extra shifts, apart from MIRA?’

      ‘I’m sure.’ Kirsten glanced at her watch. ‘I start at MIRA on Monday and I’ve just bought the sweetest unit overlooking Randwick Racecourse. The occasional night shift would work perfectly for me.’

      ‘Well, I’m happy.’ Gloria sagged with relief. ‘The weekends are always the hardest to fill with experienced staff.’ They shook hands. ‘We’ll see you Saturday night, then. When you have more time, I’d love to hear about your experiences overseas.’

      Kirsten

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