Triplets For The Texan. Janice Maynard

since the mysterious Maverick had somehow found out about her fertility treatments and threatened to expose her secrets. She pushed that situation to the back of her mind. Dealing with Hutch was enough drama for one day.

      He stared at her with such intensity she felt oddly faint. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Hutch’s expression was a mixture of incredulity, pity and disapproval. Or at least that was how she interpreted it. At one time, she could guess what he was thinking. That was long ago, though.

      Tossing the manila folder on the counter beside the computer, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have no doubts about your ability to care for a baby,” he said.

      She frowned. “Then why all the mystery? Why do you look like you’re about to deliver words of doom? Is it something else? A tumor? Some weird cancer? Am I dying? That would suck.”

      His lips twitched. “Not at all, Simone. You’re having triplets.”

      * * *

      Hutch cursed when Simone went milk pale and keeled over. He caught her before she hit the floor, but just barely. Hell, he knew better. It wasn’t the kind of news one delivered with a baseball bat. As usual, though, she rattled him. Even now.

      Cradling her in his arms, he turned back to the exam table. His instinct was to hold her until she woke up. But that was all kinds of unethical. Instead, he laid her gently on her back and reached into the cabinet for a soft, mesh-weave blanket. Covering her all the way up to her neck, he tried not to notice the way she smelled. He could have identified her scent with his eyes closed. A mix of floral and spicy that was uniquely Simone.

      She roused slowly, those incredibly long lashes fluttering as she came back to him. “What happened?”

      When she tried to rise up onto her elbows, he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. “Give yourself a minute to recover. You’ve had a shock.”

      Even befuddled and wrapped in a generic blanket, she was striking. Her blue eyes were electric, somewhere between royal and aquamarine. Her hair made as much of an impact as her eyes. The smooth, silky fall was the black of a raven’s wing...shot through with blue in the sunlight. He tried not to remember what it felt like to wrap his hands in all that thick, glorious hair. At one time, it had reached almost to her waist. The style was shorter now, but still a couple of inches below her shoulders.

      Her gaze cleared gradually. “So I wasn’t dreaming.” The words were not really a question.

      “No.”

      “I want to sit up.”

      He helped her, though it was difficult to touch her. She made him feel like a gawky adolescent. That was bloody uncomfortable for a man supposed to be in charge of Royal, Texas’s world-class obstetrics department.

      “I apologize for springing it on you, Simone. There’s no easy way to drop that bomb. I have to tell you I’m surprised and concerned that you’ve chosen this option.”

      “I’m not getting any younger.” The set of her jaw was mulish.

      He remembered all too well what Simone was like when she made up her mind about something. “You’re not even thirty. Couldn’t you have waited and taken the traditional route?” he asked.

      The wash of color that had returned to her face leached away again. Her eyes glittered with something that might have been pain or anger. “I tried that once or twice. I’m not a fan. Men complicate things.”

      The blunt retort was a direct shot at him. It found its mark. Clearly, Simone still blamed him for their breakup. He wanted to fight back, but it was pointless after all this time. His job wasn’t to be her friend, or even her boyfriend. He was charged with overseeing her medical care.

      “I suppose it’s a moot point now,” he said, feeling weary and discouraged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind. Do you want to terminate the pregnancy? If that’s your decision, hospital staff would of course preserve your privacy.”

      Simone blinked. “Is that what you think I should do?”

      He weighed his words carefully. “Having triplets is an enormous commitment, even for a two-parent family. You would be doing this alone.”

      She stared at him. Her restless fingers pleated the edges of the blanket. “I want these babies.”

      He cocked his head, trying to read her emotions. “You wanted one baby, Simone. I think you need to weigh the situation seriously. While it’s still very early.”

      “There’s nothing to consider. I made a choice. I have to live with the consequences.”

      “For the rest of your life.”

      Hot color streaked her cheekbones. “I know you think I’m flighty and impulsive and a lightweight. What you don’t realize is that I’ve grown up a lot in the time you’ve been gone. I can do this.”

      “But why?” That’s what confused him. It wasn’t as if she was running out of time. Besides, she had never particularly struck him as the maternal type.

      “My reasons are my business, Dr. Hutchinson. Am I free to go now?”

      There were secrets in her eyes and in her heart. He knew it. The two of them might have been separated by time and distance for the past few years, but there had been a moment when he had known everything about her. Every thought. Every feeling. Every beat of her energetic, enthusiastic, passionate heart.

      The Simone he knew jumped into life with both feet, usually via the deep end. She had her naysayers—Royal was a relatively small town with a long memory. Her youthful missteps had cost her. A reputation was a hard thing to shake. But he knew she had a good heart.

      “Just hear me out. You should know, Simone, that a multiple pregnancy immediately puts you in the high-risk category. The hospital hired me for my expertise. I’ll be overseeing your case indirectly. Dr. Fetter will alert me if any problems arise. Will that be a problem?”

      Simone blinked. “Do you have any crackers?”

      “Excuse me?” Had his hearing taken a hit in Sudan?

      “I need saltines. I’m about to puke.”

      Oh, lord. “Hold on,” he said. Opening the door to the hallway, he bellowed for a nurse. The poor woman must have sprinted, because she was back in two minutes with the crackers and a cup of ice chips.

      He took them with muttered thanks, closed the door firmly and turned to Simone. She wasn’t white anymore. More like a transparent shade of green. Grabbing a plastic basin from the cabinet, he put it in her lap and unwrapped the crackers. “Slowly,” he said.

      “Don’t worry,” she muttered. “I’m afraid to move.”

      “Poor baby.” He’d seen pregnant women almost every day of his professional life, but none had ever touched him as deeply as this one. Without overthinking it, he put an arm behind her back to support her. “I’ll hold the cracker,” he said. “You nibble.”

      It was a measure of how miserable she was that she didn’t fight him. No snappy comeback. No insistence she could feed herself. When she leaned into him, his heart actually skipped a beat. A huge neon sign flashed in his brain. Warning! Warning!

      Even though he knew he couldn’t get close to her again, his body betrayed him. She was so familiar, so delightfully feminine. Every caveman instinct he possessed told him to fight for her, to protect her. Women were tough, far tougher than men at times. Still, this Simone who had come to him today was at a low spot. He wanted to make it all right for her.

      Yet he was the last person she needed. He’d suffered too much heartache, witnessed too much heartbreak to offer Simone anything resembling the love they had once shared.

      She managed the first cracker and started on the second. In between bites, he offered the ice chips. Four crackers in each pack, eight in all. Eventually, she finished them.

      “Thank you,”