“From Las Vegas?”
Laura’s body stiffened slightly, as if someone had traced a probing finger down her spine. “Yes. A long time ago.”
“My late husband William’s niece,” Megan said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”
Laura looked away.
“Yes, I know. I’m—afraid my family hasn’t been very good to yours. I can understand why you’d want to confront my brothers and me. Our family has wronged you terribly.”
Mick had read the story about how Janelle Maitland had kidnapped Megan’s grandson. He knew of the eventual recovery of the child. He’d heard that Janelle had a sister.
“If I could change the past, I would,” Laura whispered to Megan. “I don’t expect you to welcome me. I wouldn’t have come at all if I’d had anywhere else to go, but there wasn’t much money and no insurance. I was worried about my baby, and…well, I’ve seen news of the clinic on television and you had sent me that invitation to the Maitland Christmas reunion, so I just…headed here. I—I can’t pay you right away, but my baby’s birth won’t be charity, I promise. If you let me have my child here, I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”
A long silence followed. Laura turned sad, worried eyes to the blue-eyed matriarch of the Maitland clan.
Megan laid a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. “My dear, any woman in the world would ask for help when her child is at stake. I’ve been a woman in need myself, so please don’t distress yourself. Of course you’ll have your baby here. And please, don’t worry about the other just now. It wasn’t your doing, and the past doesn’t matter one whit when there’s a baby being born.”
But Mick knew the past did matter. If a person forgot his history, he made mistakes. He could hurt people. It helped to remember that and to know which paths were open to a man and which were closed.
But then the nurse looked at him, and his only thought was to get out of the way so that she could help prepare Laura for what lay ahead.
He took Laura’s hand into his own and touched his lips to the soft skin of her palm. “You’re doing great, angel,” he told her with a smile. “I’m just going to leave you to the pros now. Don’t swear too much at the medical professionals,” he teased.
But she hung on to his hand when he started to pull away.
“Thank you, Mr. Hannon,” she said solemnly, and he knew she thought he meant to slip away permanently.
Indeed, when he exited the room, he thought she was right. He did his best to think of Laura Maitland only as an interesting incident in his day, not as a real, living, flesh-and-blood, steel-and-silk woman.
Probably no one would blame him for simply going back to his job. It was the smart thing to do. He had come to Austin for a good cause, but to accomplish his goal, he needed to remain anonymous, in the shadows. Something as unusual as a construction worker helping out in the delivery room just might attract speculation.
“Be smart, Hannon. Don’t go letting sentiment or an overabundance of testosterone lead you around. A man in your position would do well to stay far away from Laura Maitland,” he whispered to himself.
He said that. He meant it, but then he heard a low moan. Laura was having another contraction. She would be scared.
Mick shoved the door open and entered the room uninvited.
Chapter Two
When Mick Hannon strode back into the birthing room, all broad shoulders and determination, Laura’s tension level dropped several notches. His intense, blue-eyed gaze bypassed the doctor, the nurse and Megan, targeting Laura, where she now lay on the bed. She stared back as the man’s presence filled the room. He moved to her without asking anyone for permission or instruction, and the rest of the room fell away. The pain was no less. In fact, the great rolling waves biting into her were stronger than ever. Still, three seconds earlier she had doubted her ability to stay sane all the way to the end of the contraction. Now she knew that she would at least do that.
He held out his hands and she reached for the life-line. She stared into his eyes and concentrated on that deep blue flecked with silver. She breathed when he told her to breathe.
When her mind wavered and she thought she would go crazy with pain, she squeezed his hands harder and strove to blot out everything but the gravelly tones of his voice as he whispered encouragement.
“You’re amazing,” he told her, and that one statement distracted her. It was enough to keep her holding on for five seconds longer, even though she knew better than to believe the pretty lies that men offered.
Hours later, Laura took one last tired glance into Mick Hannon’s fierce blue eyes, gripped his fingers tightly, and with a cry of pain and exhaustion, pushed her child into the world and into Dr. Abby Maitland’s waiting hands.
For two seconds, there was total silence as the wonder of life renewing itself filled the room. Then a tiny, angry cry rang out.
“Thank heaven and Texas,” Mick said on a breath. He shook his head in amazement as Laura fell back against the bed and gazed tiredly up at him.
“You did it, lady,” he whispered, leaning over her, and he gently smoothed her damp hair back from her brow. “Congratulations. You brought your baby safely into the world.”
His words were so intimately low that for a moment Laura thought he was going to pull her close in a hug, or maybe he was even going to kiss her. The look in his eyes was that intense. But then the baby let out another cry and Mick took a deep, audible breath. He stopped his forward momentum and straightened to his full and considerable height.
“You’re okay, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.
She tried to nod her head.
“You’re tired,” Megan said sympathetically.
“I’m okay,” Laura managed to say. “My baby. Is my baby—”
“She’s perfect,” Megan said with a soft smile. “Your daughter is so perfect. So beautiful.” Her tone was awed and reverent, as if this experience was new for her all over again. Laura noted for the first time that the woman had shed the jacket to a suit that could only have been designed by Donna Karan. Her lovely hair had grown a bit mussed. Megan had jumped right in to help, as if she were a midwife, not a CEO. Now she looked tired but pleased. Laura understood why expectant mothers flocked to her clinic.
“Isn’t this just the most precious child you’ve ever seen, Mick?” Megan was saying, and Laura turned again to look at the man, the total stranger who had helped Megan coach her through the most painful, rewarding hours of her life. For the first time she saw him clearly, not through a haze of pain. His black hair was rumpled where he’d brushed long, lean fingers through it countless times. The blue chambray of his shirt clung to his broad shoulders damply in spite of the air-conditioned room. His mouth looked incredibly soft, even as his lips parted slightly in bewildered amazement.
Laura gazed at him, waiting for his answer.
For the first time he looked…awkward. “She’s a feisty little thing,” he finally said. “And she’s definitely got all her fingers and toes.
