“Did you have to move here?”
Despite the needling, Sonya hadn’t expected this spurt of resentment. “Barry, I already explained about that. Why does it bother you so much?”
“Because you’re moving in on my friends. I’m fine with you living here, just not having you underfoot every time I turn around.”
Sonya planted hands on hips. “Nobody invited you to drop in to the clinic today. That was your idea, Mr. Editor.”
The veil of indifference dropped back into place. “Whatever.” Recalled to his task, he lifted the camera. “I need a head shot of the clinic’s new doctor for the paper. Try not to act as though you’re facing a firing squad.”
“Aren’t I?”
Dear Reader,
Barry Lowell’s story has woven through the DOWNHOME DOCTORS series, and at last he gets his own romance. If this is your first encounter with the Tennessee town in need of physicians, don’t worry. This book stands completely on its own.
A reporter and editor who as a young man was wrongly convicted of murder, Barry brings a sardonic nature and a complex set of emotions to his first meeting with Dr. Sonya Vega. Having also survived her share of hardship, she refuses to back down from a confrontation. The result? Fireworks!
I found their tempestuous relationship fun to write and hope you enjoy it, as well.
Happy reading!
Books by Jacqueline Diamond
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
913—THE IMPROPERLY PREGNANT PRINCESS
962—DIAGNOSIS: EXPECTING BOSS’S BABY
971—PRESCRIPTION: MARRY HER IMMEDIATELY
978—PROGNOSIS: A BABY? MAYBE
1046—THE BABY’S BODYGUARD
1075—THE BABY SCHEME
1094—THE POLICE CHIEF’S LADY †
1101—NINE-MONTH SURPRISE †
1109—A FAMILY AT LAST †
1118—DAD BY DEFAULT †
Fullerton, California—mid-March
Sonya could hardly bear to set the baby down.
He had dark eyes, a tuft of black hair and a sweet little mouth. His incredibly cuddly shape felt right in her arms.
Her heart ached with a longing she rarely allowed herself. And wistfulness. And regret.
“Dr. Vega?” the nurse said softly.
Sonya lowered the newborn into the plastic crib. He was one of eight babies she’d delivered that hectic day. “Yes?”
“A girl called. She wouldn’t give her name, but she left a message. ‘I saw Gina at Hillcrest Park.’ Does that mean anything to you?” Moving to the crib, the nurse smiled down at the baby.
“Absolutely. Thank you.” Sonya had spent several days searching for Gina, who was overdue to deliver.
“One of your special cases?” the nurse asked.
“Eighteen years old, hypertensive, due at the end of February.” That was two weeks ago. “And, need I add, believes she’s invulnerable.”
Because of the high blood pressure she’d developed, Gina Lenox required careful monitoring. Treatment was complicated by her frequent changes of residence and overbearing, gangbanger boyfriend, who went by the name of Duke.
A week ago, she’d canceled an appointment to discuss inducing labor and had left a message saying that she planned to deliver “the natural way.” Sonya’s messages had gone unanswered.
Like many uncooperative cases, Gina might have fallen through the cracks. Other specialists in obstetrics and gynecology at North Orange County Medical Center did their best for such patients, but lacked the determination to track them down.
Sonya had lost a close friend to an ectopic pregnancy. A preventable death, had Lori sought treatment early enough, but she’d tried to hide her condition until too late.
Her death had inspired Sonya to pursue a medical career. She intended to make sure Gina and her baby had a happier outcome.
She’d contacted a girl who’d accompanied Gina on several prenatal appointments and at whose apartment Gina had stayed for a while. Sonya had explained that gestational hypertension could progress suddenly into a dangerous condition termed preeclampsia, which in severe cases might lead to convulsions.
“If anyone else tries to reach me, I’ll be on my cell. I appreciate your help,” Sonya told the nurse. Calls often came through the nurses’ station, since mobile phones were banned in most areas of the hospital.
“You got it.”
At the nursery exit, she stuffed her coverall into a laundry hamper. Thank goodness she had no further patients in labor and had finished her scheduled hours at the hospital-affiliated clinic where she worked.
Sonya’s rapid pace down the hall aroused a twinge in her right knee. Even two years after the accident, she still suffered pangs both physical and emotional, especially when stressed. She’d grown so accustomed to the pain that she hardly noticed.