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Lincoln bit his lip. ‘Amy, the part of you that’s missing is important. You had a huge amount of nerve endings and fibres that just aren’t there any more. So it will feel different when someone touches you.’
She lifted her hand and pressed it against her absent breast. ‘But I didn’t know it would feel like this.’
Linc lifted his hand. A loose curl was dangling in front of her face and he brushed it aside, tucking it behind her ear. He gave her a little smile. ‘Maybe it’s time to relearn things. Maybe you just have to take it slow.’
Amy’s hands fell to her extended abdomen. ‘I just feel as if there’s so much going on right now.’ Her hands stroked up and down her bump. ‘I don’t know if I can do all this at once. I’m so worried about the baby. My blood pressure isn’t getting any better and I’m worried about an early delivery. David said he would review me again in the morning, but I can already tell that the symptoms aren’t getting any better.’
Lincoln tucked his arm back around her shoulders. ‘Don’t focus on the bad, focus on the good. Your symptoms haven’t got any worse, that’s what’s most important here.’
She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder again. ‘I know that, but I still can’t help worrying.’ She reached over and placed her palm on his chest. ‘And it doesn’t help that the best neonatologist in the world still hasn’t told me if he’ll look after my baby.’
Lincoln threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Amy, of course I’ll look after your baby. That was never in any doubt.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’ He stood up, straightening his scrubs and bent forward, lifting the covers and sweeping her legs back up onto the bed. He glanced at his watch. ‘Now, Ms Carson, you should be getting some rest.’ He picked up the discarded blood-pressure cuff and fastened it back onto her arm. He raised one eyebrow at her. ‘Keep it on—doctor’s orders. And I’ll come back and see you in the morning while David is here.’
Then, just when it seemed he’d reverted back to doctor mode, he stopped and looked at her. She could see the dark blue rims around his eyes. He was watching her. And it seemed as if there were a million things going on his brain, a million things still unsaid. ‘Just tell me what you want from me.’
She opened her mouth. She couldn’t say what she wanted to. She couldn’t say that she wished she could turn back the clock six years and pick up the phone to call him. She said the easiest thing that came to mind. ‘I need you to be my friend right now, Linc.’ The air deflated from her lungs. This was so not what she wanted to say. But anything else right now just seemed too hard.
His lips turned upwards, but the smile was almost…disappointed. The heat and passion that had been in his eyes earlier had vanished. Now his eyes seemed cool, resigned to their fate. He lifted his hand and his finger stroked the side of her cheek. ‘Night-night, Amy.’
She turned on her side and snuggled under the covers. ‘Night-night, Linc.’
He headed towards the door, pulling it gently shut behind him before taking a few strides down the corridor.
He stopped for a second and leaned against the concrete wall. The coolness spread through his thin scrubs to his heated skin. What was he doing? No—what had he just done? His brain was spinning. Should he have professional boundaries with Amy if he was going to take care of her baby?
Did that mean he should step away from her completely? Let some other doctor take care her and her imminent arrival?
He banged his head on the wall. Maybe that would knock some sense into him. Ever since he’d set eyes on her again, she had been all he could think about. Every time he was in the same room as her he just wanted to touch her.
Now he’d just agreed to look after her baby.
But how could he have said no? How could anyone in his position have said no?
Right now Amy needed him. But not in the way he wanted. She wanted to be friends. Friends? Could he do that?
The blood was still coursing through his veins from her earlier touches. The cool concrete wall was doing nothing to soothe the heat emanating from his skin.
He glanced at his watch again. The one thing that Lincoln really needed right now was a good night’s sleep. A chance to clear his head and sort out his thoughts. He glanced back towards the dim light filtering out from under her door. But what were the chances of that?
* * *
Amy huddled under the covers as the damn cuff started to inflate again. Her body couldn’t stop trembling.
She’d kissed him. She’d kissed Linc again. And it had been every bit as wonderful as she’d imagined it to be.
She’d touched him. She’d felt the strong muscular planes of his body under her fingertips.
The tears started to fall again on her already damp pillow. And he’d touched her. And said it didn’t matter to him. He hadn’t run screaming from the room because she’d had a mastectomy. He hadn’t cared that she wasn’t a whole woman any more. He didn’t even seem to care that she was carrying an anonymous donor’s baby.
But did he mean any of it? Because he might have touched her—brushed against her almost—but he hadn’t seen her.
Lincoln had always been a gentleman. He’d always been a man with a good heart. Was he taking pity on her because of her current predicament?
Or could he really look at her as a real woman?
Amy pulled the covers up around her head. Maybe if she didn
’t think about this stuff right now it would go away. Maybe this was all just a bad dream and she would wake up in the morning, six years in the past, in her own apartment, ready to return from her holiday to the Amazon aid boat and her hot new doctor friend.
If only…
Lincoln had told her to focus on the good things. Not to think about the bad. She started to count them off in her head. So far, all her cancer check-ups had been clear. In a few months’ time she’d reach the golden ‘five years cancer-free’. She was being looked after by one of the best obstetricians in the country. There. Two already. This wasn’t so difficult.
The finest neonatologist she knew had agreed to look after her baby. She’d just had the most erotic kiss she’d experienced in six years. She’d just felt like a woman again for the first time in six years.
Her mind drifted. Dark tousled hair. Electric blue eyes with a dark blue rim. Broad shoulders and firm, hard pecs.
Amy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.
Linc. All about Linc. This clearly wasn’t working.
* * *
‘Dr Adams, a word, please.’
Lincoln glanced over his shoulder and heaved a huge sigh. James Turner was standing behind him with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He was quite possibly the last person Linc wanted to see right now. His temper was short and his nerves frayed. Not to mention there wasn’t a single thought in his head that currently made sense.
‘What word do you want, Mr Turner? How about “busy”, “hungry” or “tired”? I’ll let you pick.’ He closed the notes he was writing in and stood up, sliding them back into the filing cabinet.
James’s face remained fixed. ‘She has to go.’
Lincoln turned to face him. ‘Who has to go?’ It was late, his brain was buzzing and he had about ten other things to do right now.
‘Your friend Amy Carson. She fainted and now she’s better. It’s time for her to go home.’
