His Secret Baby: The Agent's Secret Baby
She couldn’t seem to get in enough air. As he began to climb the stairs, she laced her arms around his neck, afraid that he might drop her. “That’s the way this whole thing started.”
“Still got a sense of humor,” he observed, a thread of optimism weaving through him. Even pregnant, she hardly felt as if she weighed anything, he thought. “That’s a good sign.”
She didn’t want a sign, she wanted this to be over with.
The room temperature felt like it had gone up by at least ten degrees, if not more, and she felt as if she was caught between a pending implosion and an explosion. The pain now raced through her entire body, generating from her epicenter and radiating out like the unnerving aftershocks following an earthquake.
Was this what birthing was all about? Suddenly, she felt infinite empathy for the pets she treated. How could animals willingly mate after the first time, knowing that this kind of pain was what was in store for them?
“I’m … too … heavy,” she protested.
“Actually, you’re not,” he told her just as he made it to the landing. There were several doors on either side.
“Which way?”
Her breath was temporarily gone. Instead of telling him, she pointed to the first door on the left.
The door was already open. Moving as swiftly as he could, with the dog shadowing his every step, Adam crossed the threshold and placed Eve down on her bed.
The moment she felt the mattress beneath her, Eve grabbed the comforter on either side of her, bunching it up beneath her frantically clutching fingers.
Adam saw her bite down on her lower lip.
“You can scream, you know,” he told her, watching her struggle. “That doesn’t make you any less of a mother—or a woman.”
“I’m not screaming,” she retorted with passion.
She absolutely refused to have her baby coming into the world with her screams ringing in his or her ears. But bottling up the pain wasn’t easy.
It took her a second to realize that Adam was asking her something. Even her eyes felt as if they were sweating.
“What?” she demanded breathlessly. “What’s your doctor’s name?” Adam repeated. “Mudd,” she gasped.
He almost laughed out loud. He sympathized with her feelings. He’d once had a doctor’s assistant in one of the little border towns in Mexico digging a bullet out of his shoulder. He’d felt the same way about the man.
“No need for name calling,” he told her, banking down his amusement. “What—?”
“Her name is Mudd,” she repeated. Gritting her teeth, she gave him specifics. “Geraldine … Mudd.”
He nodded, owning up to his mistake. “Okay. Sorry about that.”
Adam took out his phone and pressed the key for Information. Instead of ringing, he heard the irritating sound that told him his call couldn’t go through. One glance at the screen told him his signal was all but nonexistent. He swallowed a curse. The next second, Eve was grabbing the edge of his shirt. Before she could speak, another huge contraction had her arching her entire body up off the bed like a human tunnel.
She all but collapsed when the pain receded. “No time.”
She knew her own body better than he did, Adam reasoned, flipping his phone closed again. He shoved it back into his pocket.
“Whatever you say. Don’t worry.” He did his best to sound reassuring despite the fact that he was worried himself. “I’ve had training.”
“In what?” Her eyes were wide again as she looked at him.
His answer was carefully guarded, but he did want to assuage her fears. “In first aid and what to do if a woman goes into labor.”
Was he telling the truth? But how could he be? “Drug dealing has gotten more complicated.”
“I went to the Y. I like being prepared for all contingencies.” It was a lie. He couldn’t very well tell her that he’d taken the mandatory classes as part of his DEA training.
The next moment, any other questions she might have asked flew out of her head, chased out by the massive waves of pain sweeping over her. Sweat poured out of her even though the room was relatively cool.
She could feel her child pushing, trying to fight his or her way out.
With all her heart, she wished she could be bringing her baby into a better world than what waited for it. Wished that at least the baby would have not just a mother, but a father there, as well.
But the time for philosophical debates had long since passed.
In a vague, hot haze, she could feel Adam’s hands on her, stripping off her underwear and pushing up the loose dress she was wearing.
Words, there were words. He was saying something to her. An apology? What was he apologizing for?
Oh, for having to undress her.
She laughed shortly. The time for that, too, was long gone. If she hadn’t let him undress her in the first place, there would have been no need for him to undress her now.
“You’re crowning,” he declared, trying to mask his surprise.
He could feel excitement coursing through his veins. Despite the way she was behaving, he hadn’t thought it possible for this process to be happening this quickly. If she’d been a race car, Eve would have literally gone from zero to sixty in a quarter of a heartbeat.
Oh, God, he hoped he could remember everything he’d been taught. Those lessons all seemed like he’d sat through them an eternity ago. He’d never had an occasion to put any of it into practice before.
Until now.
Taking a breath, he braced himself. “Okay, Eve, push.”
Eve squeezed her eyes shut. She clutched the comforter, feeling the lace rip beneath her fingers as she held on to the material tightly and pushed for all she was worth. Through it all, she was vaguely aware of Tessa running back and forth near the foot of the bed.
Poor Tessa, the tension in the room had gotten to her, Eve thought.
“Okay, stop!” Adam ordered. “Stop!”
Eve fell back against the bed, her hair plastered to the back of her neck, her head spinning almost wildly. “Is it here yet?”
Couldn’t she tell the difference? he wondered, amazed. “No.” It was all coming back to him, thank God. “I need you to relax and take a few deep breaths, then push again.”
She did as he told her, knowing he was right even though she resented his presence, resented that he knew what to do. Resented him for bringing her to this state. Her body felt a kinship to a Thanksgiving wishbone being pulled in two separate directions. In agony, she was angry at the world.
“Now push, Eve,” he was shouting at her. “C’mon, push!”
Exhaustion wore away her second wave of energy. She felt as if she had nothing left. Even so, she managed to muster together more from somewhere. Grunting as she followed orders, she pushed for all she was worth.
Again with nothing to show for it except possibly the vein she was certain had burst in her head.
Panting like a twenty-six-mile marathon runner at the end of the race, she fell against the bed again.
All too soon, she heard Adam asking, “Ready?”
If she had any strength, she would have hit him. “No,” she cried hoarsely.
He was positioned to catch the baby when it emerged. Raising his eyes, he looked up at Eve. “I know this is hard—”
“How?” she demanded in an angry whisper. “How do you know?” He wasn’t a woman, he had no right to say that he knew. He didn’t know.
“Okay, I’m making an educated guess here,” Adam conceded. “But you can do this. I know you can do this. Women have been doing this since the beginning of time.”
More proof that God wasn’t a woman, Eve thought. But there really was no other choice. She had to do this or die. Propping herself up on her elbows, screwing her eyes shut, Eve bore down and pushed until she thought her head would pop off. And then she pushed some more.
Dying was beginning to sound like a very tempting option.
Chapter 5
“You’re doing it, Eve!” Adam exclaimed excitedly, cheering her on. “You’re doing it!”
It felt as if her insides were being ripped apart by some powerful, unseen hand. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, she saw concentric orbs of bright red and gold.
“I … know …” Eve panted. She could barely scrape together enough energy to push the words out of her mouth.
And then she heard it. A small, lusty wail.
Her baby? Was that coming from her baby? Or was she just hallucinating?
Belatedly, she realized that she still had her eyes shut. Her lashes were wet with perspiration and all but glued together.
When she opened her eyes, she saw what was in her estimation the most beautiful sight that had ever been created. Her baby in Adam’s arms.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
Unable to maintain her position a second longer, Eve’s elbows went out from under her and she collapsed back onto the bed.
“Beautiful,” Adam answered reverently, looking down into the dewy face of his daughter. He was completely mesmerized and enchanted. And utterly head over heels in love.
Had anyone asked, he would have said that his heart was impenetrable, that the only one who had ever managed to crack the exterior had been Eve. But this little being, this nothing-short-of-a-miracle that he had helped bring into the world, had seized his heart in her tiny hands the moment she made her debut.
He was in love with her, in love with this miracle who had come from nothing, who was the result of a chance, passionate coupling and a product malfunction.
“But what is it?” Eve asked, frustrated.
“It’s a girl,” he told her, still staring at the infant. He forced himself to tear his eyes away and look at Eve. “You have a daughter.” He’d almost said “we” instead, but the very idea that the baby was half his still hadn’t taken root. Besides, Eve had been the one to do all the work. The credit was hers.
He moved closer to Eve and tucked the naked newborn into her arms. Pressing the infant against her chest, awe instantly slid over Eve. She felt the newborn’s warmth penetrating her skin.
“She’s so little,” Eve murmured in surprise, then looked up at Adam. “Where’s the rest of her?”
The baby did seem little, Adam thought. Little and perfect. “She’s whole, Eve.”
“But it felt like I was giving birth to an elephant. The world’s largest elephant,” she amended. This was a little bit of a thing she should have been able to push out on a sneeze.
Adam laughed softly. “This is all of her,” he assured Eve. Taking a step back, he glanced toward the hall, as if to check if the rest of the world was still there after this miracle had taken place. “I need to get a knife to cut the umbilical cord.” He looked at Eve uncertainly. “Will you be okay if I leave you for a couple of minutes?” he asked.
The bonding was instantaneous, as was the surge of motherly pride and love. Eve couldn’t get herself to tear her eyes away from this brand-new human being in her arms even for a second.
“We’ll be fine, won’t we, Brooklyn?” she asked the infant.
About to leave, the name stopped Adam cold in his tracks. He looked at her over his shoulder. “Brooklyn?” he echoed.
Eve nodded. Very gingerly, she skimmed her fingertips along the baby’s clenched fist. Five fingers, there were five fingers, she assured herself. On both hands. She’d never felt anything so soft, she thought. Like snowflakes. Precious, precious snowflakes.
“My father was born there,” she explained. “I always liked the sound of the name.”
“Brooklyn,” he repeated, rolling it over on his tongue. Looking back at her and the baby, he slowly nodded. “Not bad.” But right now, the baby and Eve were still very much attached. He needed to sterilize a knife and separate them. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
Still looking at her daughter’s face, Eve smiled. “We’re not going anywhere.”
He had to admit he liked the sound of that.
The moment he left, Eve raised her eyes to the doorway to be sure that he was gone.
“That was your father,” she whispered to the infant in her arms. “He’s a little unusual and he needs some work, but maybe with you here, we can fix him and make him into a good dad.” She took a deep, fortifying breath. Her lungs had finally stopped aching. “At least it’s worth a try.”
She knew it was the euphoria talking, but it gave her something to hang on to.
Adam was back faster than she thought possible. As he’d said, he had a knife in his hand. But the look on his face as he regarded her was slightly dubious, as if he wasn’t happy with what he was about to do.
“What’s wrong?” Eve asked.
He regarded the knife and then her. He had no problem digging out a bullet in his own arm, but the thought of using a knife on her for any reason suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea.
“I don’t know if this is going to hurt. Either of you,” he added.
Considering what she’d just gone through, she felt she was pretty much beyond hurt. “Just do it and get it over with.”
But he made no move to comply. “Maybe I should wait for the paramedics.”
“What paramedics?” The euphoric bubble around her burst. Her eyes widened. When had he had time to place the call? “You called the paramedics?”
“Yes.” He’d made the call in the kitchen. “I can’t just toss the two of you into the back of my car or have you ride to the hospital on the handlebars of my motorcycle.” The last was just an exaggeration. He had no motorcycle, at least, not here.
As far as she was concerned, the discussion was all just moot. “Why do we have to ride anything to the hospital?” she argued. “It’s over, the baby’s here.” As she referred to her daughter, she couldn’t suppress the smile that came to her lips.
“You both need to be checked out,” he told her in a no-nonsense voice that said this wasn’t up for debate.
Exhausted though she was, Eve felt her back go up. Where did he get off, telling her what she was supposed to do? “Nobody put you in charge.”
“I got the position by default because you’re not being sensible,” he informed her. Seeing her frown, he added diplomatically, “It’s understandable. You’ve just been through an ordeal and condensed eighteen hours of labor into about ten minutes flat. Anyone would have been addled by that—”
She cut him off. “I’m not addled, I’m fine. We’re both fine,” she insisted, looking at her daughter who now dozed. “And we don’t need to go to the hospital.” She just wanted to be left alone to enjoy her daughter. And rest.
His eyes narrowed. Something was off. For an ordinarily sensible woman, she was protesting too much. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” Eve retorted, but he kept on watching her as if he didn’t believe her, as if he was waiting for her to tell him the truth. She pressed her lips together and looked up toward the ceiling. It kept the tears from flowing. “The last time I was in a hospital, it was to see the E.R. doctor pronounce my father dead. I just don’t think I can handle being there.”
The sound of approaching sirens pushed their way into the stillness, swelling in volume.
“Too late,” Adam told her. “Besides, this is a completely different situation. Don’t you want to know if Brooklyn’s all right?” he asked her. With his free hand, he stroked the baby’s head ever so gently. Something warm moved through him. He felt fiercely protective of this little being, instinctively knowing that he would kill for her if it came down to that. “I mean, she looks perfect, but just to be sure, you need to have a pediatrician confirm that.”
She didn’t think it was possible, not after all Adam had put her through, not after all the disappointment she’d felt when she discovered that he’d been lying to her the whole time they’d spent together, but her heart softened to hear him call their daughter perfect.
And she knew he was right. Her baby needed to be checked out by a doctor.
Much as she didn’t want to, she had to go to the hospital, not for herself, but for her baby’s sake. For Brooklyn.
She nodded toward the knife he’d brought. “I want you to cut the cord before they get here.”
“Okay.”
With one quick, clean movement, he severed the physical connection between mother and child. The moment Adam placed the knife down, he heard the front doorbell ringing.
“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” he told her. Turning on his heel, he left the room to admit the paramedics.
“No,” she said softly to her daughter, glancing toward Adam’s retreating back, “the cavalry’s already here.”
Rather than riding with Eve and the baby in the ambulance, or opting to go back home now that he’d helped Eve give birth to their baby, Adam decided to follow the ambulance to the hospital in his car.
Arriving at the hospital a half beat behind the paramedics, he left his vehicle parked in the lot designated for emergency room patients and stood at the back of the ambulance before the doors even opened. When they did, the first thing he saw was Eve’s face. She was looking for him. When their eyes met, her smile widened.
It still got to him, that thousand-watt smile that always seemed to light up the room, or, in this case, the inside of the ambulance.
And the inside of him.
He supposed there was only so much a heart could be hardened.
This wasn’t good, he admonished in the next moment. He needed a clear head to do what he was doing. Any distraction could prove fatal, not just to his operation, but to him, as well. He shouldn’t be here.
Eve didn’t need him. She was in professional hands now. These people were trained for this. They could more than take care of her and anything that she needed. As long as Eve was here, in the middle of a bustling hospital, she’d be out of harm’s way.
Besides, as far as he actually knew, no one in this region knew about their connection. His connection, the self-centered college student, Sederholm, didn’t know about Eve. This was all a preemptive strike on his part.
But he lived the life too long to be at ease, to hope that everything went well and that there would be no mishaps, no reason to believe that either Eve or the baby would be in jeopardy. He’d learned that when one of the agents had grown lax during the last undercover operation, he had gotten blown away. Literally. From where he stood, it was far better to be safe than live with a lifetime of regret.
“I need you to call Vera for me,” she said to him the moment the paramedics mobilized the gurney, snapping the wheels in place. They immediately began to guide the gurney in through the automatic sliding doors.
Adam hurried to keep pace with the gurney. The name she’d just tossed in his direction meant nothing to him. “Vera?”
“Dr. Vera Lee. She’s the veterinarian who works with me at the Laguna Animal Hospital. She’s going to have to take over the appointments and have Susannah reschedule the ones that aren’t emergencies until I can get back to work.”
Which wouldn’t be for a while if he had anything to say about it, he thought. Childbirth might be natural, but it could knock the hell out of a woman and Eve needed to give herself some time to recover.
“Susannah?” he repeated. Another name that meant nothing to him.
“Susannah Reyes. She’s my tech and she doubles as a receptionist.” Wanda Peeples had been her father’s technician and receptionist for thirty years, but when he died, the woman, already in her seventies, had retired. Grief-stricken, she’d debated selling the practice for all of five hours, then decided to take over, rebuilding it from the ground up.
Frustrated, Eve shook her head. “I really thought I was going to have more time.”
Who was it that said life was what happens while you were busy making plans? “Life’s full of surprises,” Adam told her.
And he should know that better than anyone, he thought, looking down at the infant cradled in her arms.
“All right, I’ll call Vera and Susannah. Anything else?”
“Yes.” She took a breath, then raised her head. Her eyes met his. “Thank you.”
Adam hadn’t been expecting that. Hearing Eve voice her gratitude brought a smile to his lips. “You’re welcome.”
The moment was quickly dissipated by the authoritative, stocky nurse who came up to him and hooked her arm through his. “You the husband?” the woman demanded.
Eve spoke up before he had a chance to. “He’s the father.”
Picking up on the difference, the nurse declared, “Good enough,” and thrust a clipboard with several sheets clipped to it at him. “I need you to fill out some information.”
Adam quickly scanned the top sheet. There was no way that he knew even half the information that was being asked. “Look, I can’t—”
“I’m preregistered,” Eve called out as the paramedics, rattling off pertinent information regarding both mother and child, turned her over to an orderly and another nurse. The duo paused for a moment as the gurney changed hands.
“Saved you some trouble,” the stocky nurse mumbled to Adam, taking back the clipboard. Then, as Adam turned to continue following Eve’s gurney, the woman placed her hand against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “You can’t go with her just yet,” she informed him. And then she softened just a little. “They need to settle her in first, then they’ll call for you.”
Adam was accustomed to making his own rules as he went along, to coming and going as he saw fit without waiting for someone else’s okay.
But this wasn’t the kind of situation he ordinarily found himself in. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he had no recourse but to go along with procedure. “What floor is maternity on?”
“Fifth.” She clamped her mouth shut, as if she’d just given away a state secret. “But you can wait here,” she went on, her eyes daring him to contradict the edict.
“I’ll wait on the fifth floor,” he told the woman. There was no arguing with his tone.
“All right, suit yourself. Just give the nurse at the desk your name when you get there.”
He inclined his head, as if she had been the one to win and not him. “Yes, ma’am.”
As he walked to the bank of elevators located to the side, he heard the nurse mutter under her breath, “If I was just twenty years younger …”
A small, amused smile curved his mouth.
“How do you feel?” he asked Eve, walking into her private room.
It was more than thirty minutes later and he had begun to think that something had gone wrong. But then an intern had found him and gave him the all clear sign, telling him the number of Eve’s room. He lost no time in getting there.
She’d just begun to doze off. The sound of Adam’s voice temporarily banished any thought of sleep. She’d started to think that he’d taken the opportunity to leave the hospital.
That he hadn’t coaxed a smile from her.
“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.” Eve took a deep breath and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “They said that Brooklyn’s fine.”
Adam nodded. He’d been to the nursery before coming to her room. “I know. I asked.”
She should have known he would. The man didn’t believe in leaving stones unturned. “You’re thorough.”
Crossing to her, he stood at her bedside and struggled against the temptation to brush the hair away from her cheek. Instead, Adam shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Keeps the mistakes at a minimum,” he told her.
She raised her eyes to his. For a moment, she was silent. And then she said, “At least some of them.”
Was she telling him that she thought of their having made love as a mistake? That would mean that she considered the baby a mistake, which wasn’t the impression he’d gotten. He’d seen love in her eyes when she looked down at Brooklyn.
“Some of them,” he echoed.
She ran her fingers along the top of her hospital gown. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask him and somehow resolve. But she was so very tired again. Far too tired to think clearly.
As she fought off the drugging demands of fatigue, Eve tried to remember what it was that she’d asked him to do. And then it came to her.