Virgin Midwife, Playboy Doctor. Margaret McDonagh

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      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘SOMETHING’S WRONG, isn’t it?’

      Midwife Chloe MacKinnon unwrapped the blood-pressure cuff from around Avril Harvey’s arm and tried to offer the anxious woman a reassuring smile. ‘Your blood pressure is rather high,’ she admitted, masking her own growing concern as she re-checked the notes and previous readings.

      ‘What about the other things?’ Tears glistened in Avril’s pale blue eyes, while her swollen fingers nervously shredded a paper tissue. ‘I’ve always suspected things weren’t right but the people at my previous practice in Birmingham told me not to worry. They said they were normal signs of pregnancy.’

      Chloe took one trembling hand in hers and squeezed gently before returning to her chair. This was the first time she had seen Avril. The woman had moved to the small Cornish town of Penhally Bay in the last couple of weeks with her husband, Piers, both determined that their longed-for child would grow up in a better environment than the inner city. But this was Avril’s first baby. And at thirty-nine, being short in stature, underweight and with a history of migraines, she had a few of the risk factors that warned Chloe to be on her guard. Add in the symptoms she had presented with that morning, and Chloe was worried about Avril’s well-being as well as for that of her baby, suspecting that she had developed pre-eclampsia.

      ‘I always saw my GP at my old practice as well as the midwife.’ Avril paused and bit her lip. ‘Could I see one of the doctors here today?’

      ‘We’re more midwife-led here…’ Chloe hesitated as fresh tears spilled down the mother-to-be’s cheeks.

      ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance, and I don’t mean to doubt your expertise. It’s just that I don’t know anyone and I don’t know what to think. I’m so scared.’

      Chloe smiled, wanting to put her at ease. ‘I understand, Avril, don’t worry. I’ll ask one of the doctors on duty to see you.’

      The GPs left straightforward cases to Chloe and her colleague, Kate Althorp, but if it would set the distressed woman’s mind at rest to have the second opinion, Chloe wasn’t going to be awkward about it. Avril was alone in a strange place and feeling vulnerable, clearly on edge, her pale skin sallow, her short blonde hair lank. Time was of the essence. All that mattered was the safety of both mother and baby.

      ‘Thank you, Chloe.’ Avril gave a weary sigh, pressing the fingers of one hand to her temple. ‘I wish my husband was with me.’

      ‘Would you like me to call him for you?’

      ‘No, it’s all right. After dropping me here, Piers had to make the half-hour drive to St Piran for a meeting at the secondary school. He’s an art teacher and he’ll be working there when the new term begins,’ she explained tearfully. ‘We were looking forward to the summer to settle into our new home first and prepare for the baby. He won’t be back for another couple of hours.’

      Nodding, Chloe reached for the phone and keyed in the extension number for Reception. She watched as Avril turned her head to stare sightlessly out of the window of the room on the first floor of the expanding Penhally Bay Surgery. Chloe had tilted the blinds to keep out the full effects of the merciless July sunshine and was grateful for the coolness inside the building.

      ‘Hello, Sue,’ she said when her call was answered by the head receptionist. ‘I’m with Avril Harvey for her antenatal appointment. Would you ask one of the doctors to pop upstairs for a few minutes? Thank you.’

      The tone of Sue’s reply assured Chloe that the woman had grasped the seriousness of the situation and would respond swiftly to the request. Hanging up, Chloe returned her attention to Avril.

      ‘What made you choose to settle in Penhally Bay?’ she asked, trying to distract the woman from her worries.

      ‘We’ve been here several times for weekends and holidays—we even spent our honeymoon here ten years ago.’ A reminiscent smile lightened Avril’s expression. ‘We both love the friendly, peaceful atmosphere, and Piers finds inspiration here for his painting.’

      ‘Cornwall has always drawn artists. One of my friends, Lauren, is physiotherapist here, and she’s an avid painter, too. Some of her work hangs on the wall in the waiting area downstairs.’

      Interest momentarily chased the shadows from Avril’s eyes. ‘I noticed those. She’s very good. Piers’s paintings are more abstract. He’s hoping to have time to develop and sell his work alongside the teaching.’

      ‘So your move was both personal and professional?’ Chloe encouraged.

      ‘It seemed ideal when the job came up in St Piran. We never expected to have a child after such a long wait, but when we discovered I was pregnant, we both wanted a different kind of life for our family. I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to my baby.’ A sob escaping, she rested one palm over her stomach.

      Rising to her feet, Chloe pulled another tissue from the box she kept handy, then rounded the desk, squatting down to put a comforting arm around Avril’s thin shoulders. ‘Try not to imagine the worst-case scenarios. Even if there is something amiss, it doesn’t mean you won’t have a perfectly healthy baby. We’re going to do all we can to help you,’ she said reassuringly, handing over the fresh tissue.

      ‘Thank you.’ Avril blew her nose and dabbed at her tear-stained cheeks. ‘I’m sorry to be so silly.’

      ‘You’re not being silly. It’s an emotional and worrying time.’

      Before she could continue, a brief knock sounded and the door opened. Chloe glanced up, barely suppressing a groan as Dr Oliver Fawkner strode into the room with his customary swagger, exuding self-confidence and blatant sex appeal. Oh, no! Why did it have to be him? Dressed in dark grey chinos and a crisp white shirt, he looked cool and unruffled, the shirt’s short sleeves showing off tanned, olive-toned skin and leanly muscled forearms dusted with dark hairs. Straightening, Chloe stepped round the far side of her desk, self-consciously putting a solid barrier between them.

      Oliver had been working as an extra GP at the practice since mid-June as cover for the surgery’s increasing workload, the busy holiday season and while Lucy Carter continued her maternity leave. No one could deny what an excellent doctor Oliver was. But for reasons she couldn’t explain, he made her feel acutely nervous. He was just too…everything. Too masculine, too much the playboy, too outrageous, too sure of himself. And far too devastating in the looks and charm departments for any woman’s peace of mind. Especially a woman like her. One who shied away from male attention and anything that made her feel uncomfortable.

      Nothing and no one made her feel more uncomfortable than bad boy Oliver Fawkner.

      ‘Chloe. I heard you wanted me.’

      The rough-edged, smoky СКАЧАТЬ