twisted the knob on the antiquated television set. ‘Delighted to announce the arrival of …’
Amy listened to the announcement. Another baby born too early. But probably the most famous baby in the world. A baby that would have the most prestigious, experienced medical care that money could buy.
No! Surely not? Amy’s chin dropped to her chest. Lincoln Adams. Her Lincoln Adams was shifting uncomfortably on the screen in front of her. He tugged at his shirt and answered question after question about the baby’s condition. His voice was rich, smooth. If she couldn’t see his image on the television in front of her, she’d imagine he was the calmest man in the world. But he wasn’t. And she could tell he hated every moment of this.
Delivering the President’s baby. Wow. So that’s where he’d been.
Her heart constricted in her chest. Six years and he still had the same effect on her—even in her current state. She watched as he took a question from a blonde journalist, dazzling her with his twinkling blue eyes and easy smile. He was still a flirt. It was so ingrained in him that he didn’t even realise he was doing it. One smile from Linc and the journalist, covering the biggest story of her life, was a babbling mess.
She pointed at the screen as the nurse, Lynn, resumed her checks. ‘I know him.’
Lynn’s eyes darted over to the screen, taking in the hunk currently filling the screen. Amy bristled. She could almost hear her thoughts.
Lynn gave a small smile. ‘Well, you’re a lucky lady, then. I imagine he’s one of the best neonatologists in the world if he’s looking after the President’s baby.’
‘He is. I tried to get hold of him yesterday but he didn’t answer the text I sent him. I guess he was busy.’ The message “I need your help” had been direct and to the point without revealing anything. Her voice was quiet, thoughtful. Her hands rubbing up and down her stomach. ‘How is it?’ she asked as Lynn unwound the blood-pressure cuff. She knew the answer before Lynn spoke but her head was currently in another place. There was only one person in the world she trusted right now to take care of her baby.
Lynn frowned. ‘Actually, it’s a little higher. I’m sorry, Amy, but as a fellow professional I’m not going to beat around the bush. With your other symptoms, it’s definitely looking like borderline pre-eclampsia. The good thing is we’ve caught it early. It’s time to see your obstetrician. And from one colleague to another, I definitely think it’s time to stop work.’
Amy nodded her head, tears prickling at the sides of her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘I can’t let anything happen to this baby,’ she whispered. ‘He’s my only chance.’
Lynn wrapped her hand around Amy’s. ‘I know that.’ She hesitated, glancing towards the television. ‘Maybe it’s time to ask a friend for help?’ Lynn’s eyes fixed on the television screen. ‘If I knew my baby was going to come early I’d want the finest neonatologist in the world to be at the delivery.’ Her voice was firm and strong. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
Her phone beeped and she reached into her pocket. Two words. Anything. Any time.
Their eyes met. Amy bit her lip and took a deep breath, the shine of unshed tears visible in her eyes. ‘Exactly how far away is Pelican Cove?’
CHAPTER ONE
LINCOLN burst through the doors to the adjoining office and wrenched the scarlet tie from his throat. The force popped the button on his shirt and sent it flying across the floor.
David Fairgreaves strolled in behind him and lifted one grey eyebrow. He took off his suit jacket, hanging it on the chair behind him. ‘Problem, Lincoln?’ He looked vaguely amused, another irritation to add to Lincoln’s list.
Lincoln stalked over to a nearby shelf and pulled down a pair of green scrubs—he wasn’t wearing this damn too-tight suit a second longer.
Washington’s finest shirt lay in a crumpled heap at his feet as he pulled the scrub top over his head and turned to face David. ‘How can they ask questions like that?’
David gave a little shrug of his shoulders, picked up an apple from the nearby table and crunched into it, putting his feet up on the desk. ‘They’re animals.’
Lincoln shook his head. ‘How can you stand it? How can you sit there and smile at those idiots?’
‘You’ve got to give it some perspective. I’ve just looked after the First Lady. It’s news that they’ll report all around the world. And they’ll all be looking for their own spin—their own edge to make them stand out from the pack. Truth be known—I really don’t care what any of them think. The only thing I care about is my patient.’
Lincoln stared at him. David was the only reason he’d come here in the first place. The chance to work with the man who’d been the first to retrieve stem cells was too good an opportunity to miss. The irony of it was—he looked like a bumbling old fool but was probably the most forward-thinking clinician Lincoln had ever met.
David caught him with his sharp gaze. ‘What’s with you anyway? You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all afternoon.’
Linc sighed. The man missed nothing. ‘I got a strange text message last night from someone I haven’t seen in years—at least, I think that’s who it was from. I’ve texted back but I can’t seem to get a signal right now, so I don’t know if she’s replied.’ He held his cellphone up near the window and turned in various directions. Still no signal.
David gave him a knowing look. ‘I take it this was a female someone?’
Linc nodded and smiled. ‘Let’s just say it was an unexpected blast from the past.’
‘A good one?’
‘She certainly wasn’t that easy to forget so I hope so. But with everything that’s happened in the last two days I’ve just not had a minute.’ He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. ‘I can’t remember the last time I actually slept.’
David nodded. ‘Having the head of White House Security turn up at your door at three in the morning and tell you to pack up to deliver the President’s baby would flatten most men.’ He frowned. ‘Your text. Was it from a real friend? Or a fair-weather friend? I’ve experienced lots of those—people who the minute you appear in the media have apparently been your “best friend” or “closest colleague” for years—even though they don’t know when your birthday is or what car you drive. Fame does funny things to folks—you need to be careful, Lincoln. This is a whole new ball game for you.’
Lincoln looked thoughtful. He gestured towards the door. ‘Well, that was my first official television appearance, so she can’t have known anything about it. She sounded—I don’t know—in trouble.’
‘Just what every man loves—a damsel in distress.’ David flashed him a smile. ‘Come on, Lincoln, let’s go and look after our girls.’ He tossed his apple core into a trash can on the other side of the room.
‘I told you to stop calling me that. It’s Linc. My friends call me Linc.’
David looked aghast. ‘Linc? Certainly not. You, my friend, are named after the finest President we’ve ever had and you should wear that name with pride.’ He put his hand on the doorhandle as a frown
