The Midwife's Christmas Baby. Kate Hardy
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Название: The Midwife's Christmas Baby

Автор: Kate Hardy

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Короткие любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9780008901028

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ took the box of vitamins from the bag and handed them to her.

      She frowned. ‘What’s this?’

      ‘Folic acid—obviously now you know about the baby, you need to start taking it.’

      ‘Uh-huh.’ Her face shuttered. ‘Did it occur to you that I might already have bought a pregnancy vitamin supplement with folic acid?’

      ‘I—’ He stared at her. No. He hadn’t given it a second thought.

      ‘Oliver, I’m a midwife. It’d be a bit stupid of me to ignore my years of training about the best way for pregnant women to look after themselves and their babies, wouldn’t it?’

      She sounded really put out, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. All he’d done was buy her some vitamins. ‘I was just trying to help. To look after you.’

      ‘To take over, more like,’ she said.

      ‘But—’

      ‘Do you think I’m suffering from “pregnancy brain” and I’m completely flaky?’ she asked. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘And, for your information, “pregnancy brain” is a total myth. I came across a piece on the news the other day that said actually women’s brains are sharper when they’re pregnant.’

      What? Where was all this coming from? He didn’t understand. ‘Ella, I didn’t accuse you of anything of the sort.’

      ‘No, but you bought me folic acid without even thinking that I might already have some. There’s a huge difference between asking me if you can pick something up for me, and just presenting me with it as if I’m too stupid to have thought of it for myself.’

      ‘You’re overreacting.’

      ‘Am I?’ She folded her arms. ‘If this is how it’s going to be for the next seven and a half months, with you looking over my shoulder all the time and making decisions for me without even bothering to discuss things with me first...’ Again, she shook her head. ‘That’s really overbearing and that’s not what I want, Oliver. Actually, right now I think I’d like you to leave and give me some space.’

      He stared at her in disbelief. ‘All I want to do is to protect you and the baby, and provide for you. How’s that being overbearing?’

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      Could he really not see it? Ella wondered. ‘It’s overbearing because you’re not discussing anything with me. You’ve made the decision already and you’re expecting me to just shut up and go along with it.’ She’d been there before: when everyone thought that little Ella wasn’t bright enough to train as a midwife. She hated the way Oliver seemed to be falling into those same attitudes and thinking he knew what was best for her. She’d had years of feeling undermined and useless, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. ‘And if you dare say that’s just pregnancy hormones making me grumpy, I’ll...I’ll...’ She was too angry to think of what she’d do next. So much for thinking he wanted to cherish her. What an idiot she was, letting herself fall a little more in love with a control freak who wanted to boss her around.

      ‘Ella, this is—’

      ‘I need some space. Thank you for the flowers and breakfast, because that was very nice of you, but I’d really like you to leave now. Please.’

      ‘What about the washing up?’

      ‘I think I might just about be capable of sorting that out for myself.’ She stood up and gestured to the doorway. ‘Would you give me some space, please?’

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      Maybe making a tactical retreat would be the best thing to do right now, Oliver thought. ‘All right.’

      He wasn’t sure whether her reaction had made him more hurt or angry. He’d tried to do the right thing, but Ella was being totally unreasonable. He’d never called her intelligence into question. Why on earth would she think he had?

      Despite her protests, he was pretty sure that pregnancy hormones were affecting her mood.

      He’d try to talk to her again later and hope that she’d be in a better frame of mind. More receptive.

      Going to the gym and pounding the treadmill didn’t help. Neither did going to his office and spending a couple of hours catching up on paperwork.

      Was he really being overbearing and making decisions without asking her? Oliver wondered.

      A simple box of vitamins really shouldn’t cause this much trouble.

      Justine had been more than happy for him to make a fuss of her and buy things for her while she was pregnant. Then again, she’d had her reasons. But Ella was seriously independent. Brave enough to travel to London at the age of eighteen to study midwifery, so far from her family home in Ireland that she wouldn’t be able to just pop home for the weekend like most of the other students could. And she’d be brave enough to bring up this baby on her own.

      Except she didn’t have to.

      He wanted to be there. For her and for the baby.

      He didn’t want to tell her about Justine—not just yet—but he could try to build a bridge. Try to see things from Ella’s point of view.

      It didn’t take him long to drive back to her flat.

      This time, when she answered the doorbell, she didn’t smile.

      ‘Hear me out?’ he asked. ‘Please?’

      She said nothing, but at least she didn’t slam the door in his face. ‘I was going to get you flowers as an apology, but I already bought you flowers this morning and I don’t want you to think I’m going over the top—especially as you already think I’m being overbearing. I had no idea what to get you. I don’t know what you like, so I just...’ Oliver hated feeling so clueless and awkward. Normally he was in charge and he knew everything would go smoothly. This was way out of his comfort zone.

      ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t need you to buy me things.’

      Another difference between Ella and the women he usually dated: they expected presents. Expensive presents.

      ‘The most important thing is that I’m sorry for being bossy. I don’t mean to be and I’ll try not to be. But,’ he said, ‘old habits die hard, and I can’t promise that I won’t mess up in the future.’

      Her face softened, then, as if she understood the jumble of thoughts filling his head, and she stepped back from the doorway. ‘Come in and I’ll make some tea—and, for the record, I’m perfectly capable of filling a kettle with water and boiling it.’

      ‘I know,’ he said. He’d got the message that Ella liked her independence. ‘But is there anything I can do to help?’

      ‘Just sit down and let me do it myself.’

      He waited on the sofa in the living room, feeling more and more antsy as the seconds passed.

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