The Marry-Me Wish Read Online Free PDF Page B

the very least to inform him of something that might have allowed him to move forward with a semblance of enthusiasm?
    The flurry of activity that followed his instructions gave David a minute or two to collect himself. Anne was taken into the well-equipped resuscitation area and transferred onto the bed. Nurses helped peel off extra clothing and blankets. A blood-pressure cuff was wrapped around her arm. Someone was sent to find an Entonox cylinder.
    David donned a gown and gloves. Professional accessories that somehow helped him switch off the personal issues he had with this case. He could do this. He had to, because no matter how hurt and angry he was at the way he’d been treated, he cared about Anne. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t make sure she received the best assessment and treatment he was capable of providing. An IV line was a priority. So was some form of foetal monitoring. Checking the position of the babies and how far along her cervix was in dilatation.
    â€˜Ohhhh!’ Anne’s groan cut through the air, ripping into David and threatening to undermine his resolve. ‘Oh, God… Mac …’
    â€˜It’s okay, love.’ The big man with the tousled dark hair had his arm around her shoulders as Anne leaned forward in her sitting position, drawing her legs up so that she could hang onto her knees. ‘You’re doing great.’
    â€˜Where’s the Entonox?’ David picked up the blue plastic kidney dish that contained everything he needed to start an IV line, doing his best to stamp on the flash of resentment he was feeling towards this Mac. The way he was holding Anne. The kind of anxiety on his face that every man would have if the woman he loved was in such pain.
    â€˜Here.’ A nurse held the tubing attached to a large cylinder that had just been wheeled through the curtains. ‘I was on the phone to Obstetrics. The registrar is tied up with a forceps delivery. They’ve paged a consultant but it’ll be twenty minutes before they can get here.’
    It was looking more and more likely that Anne was going to have her babies here. Especially given the way she kept shifting position, looking restless and irritable,which could well indicate an advance into the second stage of labour. She pushed away a hand that was offering her the mouthpiece to the inhaled pain relief.
    â€˜It’s nitrous oxide,’ David reminded her. ‘A fifty-fifty mix of—’
    â€˜I know what Entonox is,’ Anne snapped. She dragged in a breath as her contraction eased.
    â€˜I’m going to have a feel of your tummy while you’re between contractions,’ David warned her.
    â€˜Fine.’ Anne closed her eyes.
    The nurse pulled up the nightshirt Anne was wearing. An oversized T-shirt that he didn’t recognise, but when had she ever worn clothing to bed when he’d been around?
    The feel of her skin was all too familiar but at least her abdomen had never felt remotely like this. Hard and firm and stretched to what seemed like breaking point. Full of lumpy shapes. An elbow there. A foot here. David remembered seeing Mac with his hands exactly where his own were now. Entranced by feeling all those tiny limbs moving. He wasn’t feeling any movement at the moment.
    â€˜Have we got a Doppler here?’ he asked his registrar.
    â€˜I think so.’
    â€˜Maybe you could find it, then,’ David heard himself snapping.
    He looked up to catch the way his junior colleague’s eyebrows rose. And no wonder. A flash of temper was disturbingly unlike the way he treated the people he worked with. David offered a quick smile. ‘I’d like to check on the foetal heart rates after contractions.’
    â€˜Is something wrong?’ Anne had picked up on the exchange.
    â€˜Not that I can pick up,’ David reassured her. ‘Have you had a scan recently?’
    â€˜I’ve been getting them weekly. To check on the