Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe. Jacqueline Diamond

nurses,” George said. “She requested this assignment.”

      “I wanted to work in the Infertility Clinic because I had one baby and never could have any more,” Edith told him. “I like to see women have as many as they want. It gets the love to flowing. You can’t ever have too much love in this world.” From her tone, it sounded as if she were challenging him to disagree.

      “Heaven forbid I should stem the flow of love,” Jason said drily.

      “I expect I’ll work real well with your secretary,” Edith went on. “Sometimes when a staffer is new in a place, she needs extra encouragement.”

      So that was the problem. Obviously, Edith had heard about or witnessed Coral’s tears and didn’t intend to let Jason escape unscathed. Was this entire medical center full of hard-nosed women, he wondered, or was it just his luck to run into two of them on the same day?

      George glanced from him to Edith and back again. Clearly, he hadn’t missed the undercurrents. “Is everything okay?”

      “No problem,” Jason said.

      “If you don’t mind, then, I’ve got some calls to return. Let me know if you need anything.” With a friendly nod, George departed.

      “You play golf?” Edith asked.

      “Occasionally.” Although the change of subject surprised him, Jason tried not to show it. “Do you?”

      “No, but Dr. Farajian does. Plays every chance he gets,” said the nurse. “Sometimes with Dr. Sentinel. He’s our younger obstetrician.”

      “How about you? How long have you worked at Doctors Circle?” Although Jason didn’t want to sound as if he were conducting an interview, it seemed important to take control and shift the balance of gravity back in his own direction.

      “Ten years.” Apparently, Edith wasn’t interested in talking about herself, because she went on to say, “I suppose you know you’ve got patients scheduled starting on Monday.”

      “That’s right.” Although the clinic might not be officially open, Jason wanted to begin screening patients and setting up treatment plans.

      “One of them is Loretta Arista,” Edith went on. “She’s the public relations director here, and if she doesn’t get pregnant soon, she’s going to give up on having babies altogether.”

      “I presume Dr. Rourke already did a workup on her?”

      “She’s tried everything she knows,” Edith said. “Now it’s your turn.”

      “I’ll do my best.” Jason found himself smiling at the woman’s obvious concern for her patients. Being a mother hen was a useful quality in a nurse. Less so in a doctor, however. He’d learned the hard way to keep a tight rein on his objectivity.

      “We sure will.” Edith gave a nod, as if he’d passed inspection. “I’ll be honest with you, Doctor. People say you’re difficult to work with.”

      “I set high standards and I’m impatient if they aren’t met,” Jason told her. “When it comes to infertility, time is the enemy. That’s why I hate wasting it. Sloppiness, making assumptions and failing to follow directions won’t be tolerated. I’m sure you agree or Dr. Farajian wouldn’t have recommended you.”

      Edith’s grin made her face shine. “You’re tough because you fight for your patients. I like that.”

      “I can see that we’re going to get along.” Jason remembered Heather’s comment that Edith had a thick hide. Good. He didn’t want to worry about accidentally wounding her ego if he snapped at her under pressure. Most likely, she’d bark right back at him the moment they were alone. Fair enough.

      An almost subliminal scent tantalized Jason’s nostrils. Heather must have arrived for her tour of the new clinic. His subconscious made the connection even before he saw her.

      “Hello, Dr. Rourke. How’s everything going with you?” Edith asked the smaller woman hovering outside in the hall.

      “Fine. It’s good to see you.” Briskly, Heather came inside.

      An auburn curl straggling along one cheek was the only sign of weariness despite what must have been a long day. Having shed her white coat, she wore a dark skirt and a tailored beige blouse that, in spite of some discreet tucks, sketched her generous curves.

      Jason tore his gaze away. He had the uncomfortable sense that both women had noticed where he was looking.

      “We’re going to check out the clinic,” he told Edith. “Care to join us?”

      Meaningfully, her chocolate eyes fixed on Heather and him in turn. “Like my mother used to say, three’s a crowd,” said the nurse. “Right now, this office is so small, I can hardly breathe. Guess I’d better go make sure the Records Department has sent over those patients’ charts for next week. I know how you hate inefficiency.” Fanning herself with one hand, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

      Heather’s cheeks turned an appealing pink. “She’s not very subtle, I’m afraid.”

      “About what?” Faced with potential embarrassment, Jason had learned that the best response was to pretend you didn’t get the point.

      “Forget it.” She brushed a speck of lint off her blouse, seemingly unaware of how the action emphasized the shape beneath the clothing. Jason struggled to keep his breathing regular.

      From the moment they’d met, during registration at a convention hotel in Atlanta, he’d felt the same powerful pull toward her. He found it hard to believe that, even jet-lagged and having consumed a couple of drinks, he’d blacked out as quickly as Heather claimed. Not with such a powerful yearning coursing through him.

      Something had happened that night. Jason felt like an idiot for not being able to remember, but that was no excuse for her keeping him in the dark. Heather’s earring hadn’t landed in his bed by remote control.

      Even though it might take a while to pry out the information, he was determined to get an answer. How he responded once he got it would depend on what he learned.

      “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee at the kiosk on the way over.” Jason opened the door for her. “Unless you’ve had too much caffeine today.”

      “There’s no such thing in this profession. Now that you mention it, if I don’t get some more, I may keel over.” Heather was so short, she walked under his outstretched arm and cleared it by an inch.

      With hardly any effort, Jason could have drawn her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. Rejecting the image, he decided he needed that coffee even more than she did.

      Chapter Two

      Heather had avoided the first floor of the East Wing since the remodeling began, due to the noise, the sawdust in the air and the hazards of trying to make her way through construction clutter. With Jason as her guide, however, she found herself fascinated.

      The work had progressed much further than she’d realized, transforming the area formerly leased to an outside group of pediatricians. The altered layout of the walls showed Heather a state-of-the-art facility, with examining rooms and surgical suites plus an extensive laboratory where they’d be able to offer in vitro fertilization and the whole alphabet soup of new technologies.

      In a few short decades, medicine had surpassed what science fiction had proposed when Heather was in high school. In addition to egg donations and embryo transfers, researchers had developed such exotic procedures as AH, or assisted hatching, in which a small opening was etched in the outer coating of the early embryo to help it implant in the womb.

      The pace of research had intensified to the point where Heather spent her free time catching up on medical journals, reading research papers and attending conferences. No matter what people thought, she was grateful to have Jason on