A night like no other...
A miracle she’s dreamed of!
Knowing she may never have children isn’t easy for midwife Carly Eliston, but devoting her life to helping other mothers realize that dream is fulfillment enough. Until she begins working alongside sexy neurosurgeon Adem Kepler! The cautious yet charismatic bachelor challenges Carly to let her hair down... One night of amazing passion later, Carly’s in for a miraculous shock—she’s carrying Adem’s baby!
Three-times Golden Heart® Award finalist TINA BECKETT learned to pack her suitcases almost before she learned to read. Born to a military family, she has lived in the United States, Puerto Rico, Portugal and Brazil. In addition to travelling, Tina loves to cuddle with her pug, Alex, spend time with her family, and hit the trails on her horse. Learn more about Tina from her website, or ‘friend’ her on Facebook.
Also by Tina Beckett
The Surgeon’s Surprise Baby
A Family to Heal His Heart
A Christmas Kiss with Her Ex-Army Doc
London Hospital Midwives collection
Cinderella and the Surgeon by Scarlet Wilson
Miracle Baby for the Midwife
Available now
And look out for the next two books
Reunited by Their Secret Daughter by Emily Forbes
A Fling to Steal Her Heart by Sue MacKay
Coming soon
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
Miracle Baby for the Midwife
Tina Beckett
ISBN: 978-0-008-90213-1
MIRACLE BABY FOR THE MIDWIFE
© 2020 Tina Beckett
Published in Great Britain 2020
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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To my husband…as always
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
Extract
About the Publisher
ADEM KEPLER REMEMBERED the car ride like it was yesterday. The rough blanket from his bed had rubbed his cheek raw as he tried to brace himself against the bumps on the dirt road he’d once called home.
His dad’s breathless call had set the wheels in motion, the flashing lights of the plane that had sent them on a flight to a new country. A new home. He hadn’t realized at the time just how sick his younger brother was until he was several years older.
But at fifteen, all he really knew was that his mother’s tears seemed endless and his dad had a white pinched look around his mouth that said his family’s whole world was about to change. Looking back, he could see it was a blessing in disguise and the flight into the night had saved Basir’s life.
He’d had no idea of any of that at the time.
But he did now. Brain tumors knew no nationality. No financial status. No gender. All he remembered was the powerlessness and anger he’d felt as he left all of his friends behind.
The first years had been hard. Learning a new language. A new culture. But slowly, the angry teenager became a man who understood the sacrifice his parents had made, even though he’d hated it at the time. Where the seriousness of Basir’s condition should have brought the family together, it had taken an already strained marriage and turned it into a battleground. They were too proud to seek outside help, so the arguments and fights had morphed into silence and resentment. His dad had lost himself in the restaurant he’d opened, spending more and more time away from the house.
Many of Adem’s decisions had been the product of his childhood, even his decision to go into neurosurgery. And it was also why he’d petitioned the administrator of London’s Queen Victoria Hospital to open a clinic in one of the city’s poorest neighborhoods. When asked if he’d head up the project and run with it he’d jumped at the chance, becoming the clinic’s director.
He could make a difference for people like Basir. He believed that. If he had anything to do with it, this new clinic would minister to those in crisis, whether it be illnesses, family relations or pregnancy. It was where his heart was. He might not have been able to fix his parents’ problems—or the fallout from it in his own life—but maybe he could help others avoid some of those pitfalls.
If Adem could change one person’s life for the better—just one—it would be worth it.
It had been his mantra as he settled into medical school, as he’d done his training and as he managed the clinic.
And he would allow nothing to come between him and that goal.
Ever.
CARLY ELISTON WALKED through the halls of the NICU of the Queen Victoria Hospital holding a clothes hanger in one hand, while draping the bottom portion of a long slinky dress over the other arm. Navy blue with a scattering of sequins across the bodice, it had been an impulse buy—something for herself—after wearing three different bridesmaids’ dresses. Four years later, that blue gown still had the tags on it when she’d loaned it to her friend. She’d told Esther she didn’t need to return the dress, but her friend had insisted. It wasn’t like Carly would need it any time soon. And evidently it had made a bigger hit than her friend had expected, since she and Harry Beaumont were in love and headed toward marriage.
Maybe the dress was enchanted. If so, Carly should wear it herself. She shook her head. No, she didn’t need a man in her life right now. One failed relationship was more than enough. Fortunately her ex-fiancé had moved on to another hospital and a new love. Rumor had it that he was now happily married with a child of his own on the way. It was what he’d said he wanted most: a family...children.
For Carly, scarring and one lost ovary made the proposition of that ever happening iffy, although Kyle swore that wasn’t the reason for the breakup. She’d gotten the old “It’s not you, it’s me” explanation. Maybe he just hadn’t realized how hard it would be for her to get pregnant. They’d tried. For over a year. The harder things got, the more rigid and regimented her life became in an effort to somehow force her body to comply—to will that remaining ovary to function. And each time her period came, she became more desperate. Until Kyle finally...
Ugh! Old news, Carly. Get moving.
The feeling that she needed to shake her life up—to make a change—had never been so strong as it was right now.
When Carly leaned against the door and tried to juggle the dress so she could reach the latch, it suddenly swung outward, causing her to careen into someone on the other side.
A man.
Landing hard against his chest, she gave a quick glance up. Adem Kepler. Perfect. The doctor in charge of Victoria Clinic where she normally worked. Adem had kind of a playboy reputation—one which made her avoid him whenever she could. His relationships were “all fluff and no substance” according to reports. If there was anyone she wanted this dress to work its magic on, it was certainly not him. Despite the way her crazy pulse sped up whenever he was near.
And when he flashed that sardonic grin at her—the one that had just now kicked up the left side of his mouth—she was a goner.
“Going somewhere?”
She planted her feet back under her and hefted herself off his chest in a hurry, trying not to be distracted by that smile or the slight accent that peppered his speech. After all, her American accent was still fairly noticeable, even after living in the UK for over ten years. “Sorry. I didn’t expect the door... I was just trying to...” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, which were spinning in circles. This was not quite the “change” she’d envisioned a few moments earlier. “I was taking this to my car before heading to work.”
Adem fingered the fabric of her dress. “Nice. But this is not your normal style, is it? And the hospital fundraiser isn’t until next year.”
“Hospital...?” Oh, he thought she was borrowing this for a party. She swallowed, trying to push down her disappointment. There was no shame in borrowing a dress from someone; after all, she’d thought nothing of loaning it to Esther. It was more the fact that he assumed that wearing a dress like this would be out of character for her.
Wasn’t it? At least for the Carly who’d been consumed with thoughts of babies during the last year of her engagement.
She’d bought the dress a week before Kyle announced his decision to leave, hoping to shake things up. Instead, the gown had hung in her closet, price tags still attached, until she’d loaned it to Esther.
Her face burned with embarrassment. “I know when the fundraiser is. And this dress is very much my style. I bought it, after all.” She certainly didn’t need to tell him why she’d purchased it, though.
Up went dark brows in...disbelief?
Oh, no, he didn’t.
Her fiancé used to tease her about her lack of a social life too. Maybe that was another part of why he’d dumped her. If anything, she owed some of her seriousness to her mom, who’d raised her all by herself after Carly’s dad died, working hard to make sure her daughter had everything she needed. It was something she didn’t take for granted.
But that didn’t mean Carly didn’t know how to have fun. She tipped her chin up. Hadn’t she said she wanted to shake things up? Well, maybe now was the time. She could start doing things differently.
“Just because you haven’t been lucky enough to see me in the dress doesn’t mean I haven’t worn it.”
You haven’t, Carly.
“I never said you haven’t worn it. But you’re right in that I wasn’t lucky enough to see you in it.”
Oh, perfect. Now she’d come across as conceited. “Maybe some other time. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She waited for a moment, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t exactly blocking her path, but since the door behind her had already swung closed she would need to sidestep to make it around him.
“Do you have a few minutes? I was actually going to try to catch you at the clinic. I’d like to discuss some changes for the community midwife program we’re putting into place.”
Accent or no accent, she found herself bristling. “The women in that community need access to what we can—”
“Relax. I’m not taking anything away. I was here at the main hospital asking for additional funding for the program. It was approved. We’re adding two mobile ultrasound machines. But we’ll either need additional technicians or a few midwives at the clinic to be certified in their use.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. She’d put in a request last year for portable machines, but never dreamed...
She took a careful breath. Then another. Trying not to let her thoughts run away with her, although that was almost impossible with him standing so close. Looking so devastatingly handsome. She did her best to force back those thoughts. “I would like to be in on that training.”
“I thought you might. So I hoped we might talk over tea. Does the request seem more attractive now?”
Yes. And it wasn’t just the request that looked more attractive. How did he do that? No wonder he had a reputation.
“Okay. Can I meet you in the canteen after I take my dress to the car?”
“Of course. I’ll see you there.”
Five minutes later, her shaky hands free of everything except for her purse, she headed toward the canteen. She wished she felt a little more centered—a little more in control of her emotions. Crashing into him must have shaken her more than she realized, because as soon as he was out of sight, muscles that she hadn’t realized were balled up tight went limp. So much so that she’d had to stop and lean against a wall for a few seconds to steady her legs.
But portable ultrasounds. He had no idea how much she’d wanted them—how much they would help everyone involved with the program. Or maybe he did, since he’d requested the funds.
They would no longer have to ask patients with issues to come into the clinic to have the imaging done. Some of her patients didn’t trust government institutions, even hospitals, and were wary of such requests.
Reaching the canteen, she quickly spotted him at a table in the corner and took a deep breath, before giving him a cheerful wave and heading up to get some coffee. When she was stressed or nervous, her American roots came out, and she opted for that dark bitter brew her mom drank. Dumping a measure of powdered creamer into the coffee, she went to join Adem.
As soon as she dropped into the chair, he poured something from a little silver pot into a teacup. It was very black, almost thick looking. There were no tea bags anywhere. “Is that coffee?”
He glanced up. “Yes. Turkish style. I grind the beans at home and normally brew it in my office. Today, I had to make do with an electric kettle. I see you’re not drinking English tea either.”
No, and she didn’t really want to go into the reasons why. “I guess my heritage comes through sometimes too.”
“Your mum teaches music at the International University?”
She hesitated and wasn’t sure why. “Yes, she does. It’s how I came to be in London years ago. When it came time to choose whether to continue my education here or in the States, I decided to stay near my mom.”
“Same here. My parents moved to the central part of Hackney when I was in high school. My father owns a restaurant not too far from the clinic.” Adem smiled. “I think he wanted me to take it over when I grew up. Luckily my brother showed a lot more promise in that area than I did.”
“No sisters?”
“Nope, just me and my brother.” His voice tightened slightly. “You?”
“Only child. Just me and my mom actually.” She glanced at him. “My dad was an archaeologist, but he died while on a dig when I was ten.”
“That must have been tough.”
She smiled, her nerves finally beginning to settle a bit. “It was. But I have good memories of him.” She’d been a tomboy growing up and had loved digging around in the garden pretending to find old bones and carefully cleaning them with a brush.
“You didn’t want to become an archaeologist?”
“No. I thought about it, but my mom had complications during a pregnancy when I was young and lost the baby. She was never able to have another one. So, I guess it awoke an interest in prenatal health and delivery.” That interest had become bittersweet as she wrestled with her own fertility issues.
“I’m sorry. About your mum, not your interest in babies.”
Babies.
The way he’d said that word sent a shiver through her. She hadn’t said she was interested in children. But he obviously hadn’t meant it the way she’d taken it. There was no way he could know about her struggles. She decided to clarify, just in case.
“I’m interested in the moms and their babies.”
He took a sip of his coffee, regarding her over the rim of the cup for a few seconds with those dark-lashed eyes of his. “That is what I meant, of course.”
This time, the ripple of awareness had nothing to do with children and everything to do with the man himself. Oh, Lord, what was wrong with her?
“Of course.” She decided to change the subject to something less sticky. “So we’re getting portable ultrasounds. What’s the certification process?”
“I looked into it when I put in the request. If I understood correctly, if you have a nursing degree—which you’re listed as having—you’ll need to do a year-long course. For midwives without that, it would probably take two years. Another option is to schedule the use of one of the machines in the field and request that a tech accompany you to the appointment.”
That would work. “Will we have enough techs to go around?”
“That’s where having extra staff would help.”
“Frieda is a tech here at the hospital. We’re friends. She might even donate an extra hour or two a week like some of us who already work at the clinic.”
Adem set down his cup, hands resting on the table. His head tilted. “You’re donating hours?”
Uh-oh. He didn’t sound happy about that. “Is that a problem?”
“I’m just not sure why you would.”
She was right. He wasn’t thrilled. “The Queen Victoria uses volunteers for a wide range of services. Besides, I don’t want to strain the funding more than necessary. After all, we may not have gotten those portable ultrasound machines if we demanded to be paid for every single second we’re at the clinic. I know I’m entitled to be paid for rest breaks, but I like to donate hours where I can, just to help out.”
“Understood, Carly.”
The low gruff way he said her name made her insides quiver in a way that was too delicious for words. And that made her take a mental step back. Yes, he was a doctor, but he was also a man—and one she’d had trouble maintaining her cool around. She really didn’t want to get into another problematic situation with a colleague, the way she had with Kyle. And actually Adem was practically her boss. It was okay to fantasize about the man. But it was absolutely not okay for him to know about those fantasies.
“Seriously, it’s not a problem, right? I don’t always have something planned every night, and it’s not like I’m putting in a hundred hours a week.”
She’d gotten some ribbing recently from a couple of her friends who’d tried to get her to go out with them on a few double dates. But once burned... She really didn’t want to jump into another relationship. And working extra hours gave her a ready excuse to turn down those offers.
I know you’ve been hurt, but there’s such a thing as being too cautious. Wasn’t that what Frieda had said?
But her relationship with Kyle had left a sour taste in her mouth. And if he really had left her because of her inability to have his baby... She didn’t want to explain her issues to anyone else.
One side of his mouth kicked up again. “If we were talking about a hundred hours a week, that might be a problem. Since we’re not, then no.”
It took her a second to realize he was responding to her earlier comment. “I’m not. But I want to make a difference.”
“Oh, you are. More than you know.” There was a darkness to his gaze that hadn’t been there at the beginning of their conversation.
She gulped down the last sip of her coffee, which was now tepid, and decided it was time to get out before her straying thoughts gave her away. “Speaking of differences, I’d better get myself over to the clinic and start my shift. Thanks for letting me know about the ultrasound machines. Any idea of their arrival time?”
“Not yet. But you’ll be one of the first to know. In the meantime, I’ll confirm the certification requirements and put them on the board in the staff lounge at the clinic.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” She nodded at the silver teapot and, before she could stop herself, added, “Someday I’d like to try Turkish coffee.”
His eyes focused in on her. “Someday, Carly, I will make some for you.”
And just like that, the reactions that had been percolating in the background were suddenly right there for all to see—nipples tightening, breathing growing almost frantic.
Do not get caught up in the man’s charms.
“Thanks. See you later.”
“I’m sure you will.”
With a hard swallow, she forced herself to carry her cup and spoon up to the front of the canteen and deposit them on the conveyor belt. And then she pushed through the door and reentered the real world. A place where Adem was just an ordinary doctor and not someone who hit some of the buttons she’d done her best to deactivate. Evidently a few of them had decided to come back online of their own volition.
And that was the last thing she needed to happen with this particular man.
Today. Or any other day.
Adem sat back in his chair after Carly left the canteen and realized how little he knew about her. There was something reserved in her mannerism. Seeing her carrying that dress had surprised him, and he’d very nearly insulted her by blurting out the first thing that had come into his head.
The woman had a private life. At least she said she did. One where she wore dresses like that for parties he knew nothing about.
He’d heard about a broken engagement, but never bothered much with gossip, so he didn’t know the circumstances. Not that it was any of his business. It wasn’t like he had a stellar track record in the relationship arena. He’d left that to his brother, who was now married and hoping for children of his own. It seemed that Adem’s attempts to shield him from his parents’ fights might have paid off.
The image of Carly in a slinky blue dress that he knew would play up that fair skin and red hair swam in his head. Damn.
It wasn’t like the dress had just made him aware how attractive she was.
He’d already realized. And noticed. More than once. And was now wishing like hell that he hadn’t.
Carly hung the dress next to the three bridesmaids’ dresses. She was really glad it had worked for Esther. She and Harry made a great couple. And it wasn’t like Carly was jonesing for a white dress with frothy layers. Not anymore. Thank God she’d never gotten around to actually purchasing her own during her engagement. She’d been too busy structuring her life around getting pregnant.
No, she was happy that some of her childhood and university friends were finding the love of their lives.
Did Kyle’s exit from her life mean there was no one special for her? Her heart twinged, but nothing stronger than that, which was good after all that had happened. Maybe she’d been more in love with the idea of marriage and a family than in love with him, which in retrospect made her realize that marrying him would have probably been a huge mistake.
She had a full life. Maybe Carly was more like her mom—who’d worked hard to raise her after her father’s untimely death—than she realized. Her mother had never remarried and seemed to find her fulfillment in her work. She was independent to a fault.
Like Carly? Probably. But it served her well now. She didn’t need anyone else’s company. At least not permanently. For the first time since the breakup, she realized she was free. Free to do what she wanted with her life, with no interference from anyone. Free to make her own choices about who to sleep with and when.
She glanced at the blue dress, once again seeing the surprise that had splashed across Adem’s face when he’d realized it was hers. Oh, how she wished he really could see her in it.
Not going to happen, Carly.
She closed the door with a firm click. If all went well with Esther, it looked like Carly might be adding another dress to her collection before too long. And her other friends from university? The ones who still weren’t attached?
She and Izzy Nicholson had met at the international school, along with Raphael Dubois, who was one of the hospital’s obstetricians, while she knew Esther McDonald and Chloe Larson from the midwife track at university. Life had sure given all of them some twists and turns. Chloe had a three-year-old daughter now. School had cemented their bond, and they’d all remained close over the years.
It made her glad of the decision to remain in the UK and build her life here.
Her mind swung back to Adem. They had at least two things in common. They were both in England because of their parents. And they’d both decided to stay here as adults.
So did lots of people. She’d worked at the clinic for a year now—ever since her breakup—and Adem had been there ever since Victoria Clinic opened five years ago. He’d done her interview, in fact.
Ha! That interview process had been kind of agonizing actually. His dark good looks had made it hard to think, even as he asked questions about her experience, her right foot doing a little dance as he’d detailed the job requirements. She’d had to uncross her legs to make it stop. At the time, she’d chalked it up to the stress of having her relationship implode in her face.
But it happened again. Several times, and when he followed her into her dreams one night, she decided maybe she’d better actively avoid him. Which had been almost impossible.
Well, she could no longer blame her reaction on her breakup, because at the meeting in the canteen, her foot had done its twitchy little best to keep pace with her heart. She’d uncrossed her legs again, planting both of her feet on the ground under the table. Her pulse hadn’t been quite as easy to control.
And to find out he found her too dull—or unadventurous—to pull off a sexy dress...
Well, if the chance ever presented itself, maybe she would have to prove him wrong.
Lord! This was ridiculous. She needed to either get past this or figure out what to do about it. Doing nothing wasn’t an option. One thing her father had taught her at an early age was to pursue something until you figured it out. It was what she needed to do now.
But how was she supposed to do that when there were these weird itchy emotions popping to the surface one after the other?
She wasn’t sure. But she’d controlled what she now called the Adem Twinges for the last year, so whatever was happening, she could just push those suckers back down until they got the hint and disappeared for good.
Her cell phone buzzed on her dresser, making her jump. She swallowed as she walked toward it.
It’s not him. He has no reason to call you at home.
She picked it up, and then frowned. Naomi Silver, one of her patients. Naomi was almost nine months pregnant and so far had had a normal pregnancy—even if the events leading up to it hadn’t been. Like Carly, Naomi had had her own fertility problems. She’d had adhesions that had kept her from getting pregnant for the last five years. She and her husband had even adopted a daughter, thinking they’d never have a biological one. And then, out of the blue, she’d gotten pregnant.
Her phone buzzed again. Naomi never called her at home, so her belly tightened.
She pressed talk. “Hello?”
There was no sound, except some kind of weird snuffling sound.
“Naomi? Are you okay?”
“I—I’m so scared.”
Fear struck her heart. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m home.” A broken sob hit. “But my head hurts so much. I’m... Could I be having a stroke?”
Oh, God. A million possible diagnoses went through her head. Migraine. Preeclampsia. Eclampsia. Fetal demise. Her speech didn’t sound slurred, but Carly wasn’t willing to take any chances.
“Can you get to the hospital?”
“The clinic?”
She ran through the possibilities. The clinic could do C-sections in a pinch, but it wasn’t set up with an MRI or other of the more expensive diagnostic equipment. “No. The Queen Victoria.”
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.