Amy Ruttan - Pregnant with the Soldier's Son

“I am, but my shift isn’t over for another couple of hours.”

He frowned. “Do you want me to speak to the chief of surgery?”

“No, I don’t want you to speak to Dr. Ward,” Ingrid snapped. That was the last thing she wanted anyone to do. “I can work the last two hours of my shift. I’m not an invalid.”

“I never said you were an invalid, but you’re pregnant and tired.”

Ingrid was going to tell him to mind his own damn business, but the moment she looked up she could see the surgical nurses, residents and whoever else was in earshot were staring at the two of them with looks of confusion.

The last thing she wanted was the rumor mill to start.

It was bad enough everyone knew that she’d got knocked up because of a one-night stand, but the last thing she wanted them to know was that Dr. Allen had been the one to do it.

She glared at those who were still brave enough to stare, one of those cold, calculating looks she was apparently so well-known for.

Most pregnant women had fits of tears. Her emotional trigger was anger and when it happened she turned into a bit of a dragon.

Ingrid needed to regain control over this situation, and fast.

“Dr. Allen, may I have a word with you? Privately.” She turned on her heel and headed to an empty scrub room. When the scrub-room door closed behind him she crossed her arms over her belly and set the gaze of fury on Clint.

He took a step back, but mirth twitched at his lips. “There’s good reason why they call you Ingrid the Harridan.”

“Who calls me that?”

“The interns,” Clint said offhandedly. “Of course, you set bones for a living. I wouldn’t expect anything less from such a young ortho attending as you. You have to be tough.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes and eased her stance. “Yes, so you know why I asked you to come in here.”

“This sounds like an official summons.”

“It is.”

Clint furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Well, I can’t say that I do.”

“Getting pregnant right after one accepts an attending position is really bad form. Especially when one got pregnant during a one-night stand. I don’t want any special treatment, Dr. Allen. I also don’t want the other staff members to know my business.”

“Oh, I get it. The new trauma surgeon is showing a little bit too much interest in the ortho attending’s pregnancy.”

“Exactly.”

“Especially since we’ve just ‘met.’”

“You’ve got it.”

“I’m sorry for acting unprofessionally, Dr. Walton. It won’t happen again, but from one physician to another, you need your rest. The last thing you want to do is have your blood pressure climb.”

“I’m well aware of that, Dr. Allen, but I have to prove to the chief that I’m worthy of the attending position I earned roughly eight months ago.”

“You’re quite a stubborn and determined woman, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “You can’t control everything.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She made to push past him, but he stuck out his arm, bracing the door shut and blocking the way. “If you don’t mind, Dr. Allen …”

“I do, actually. As a surgeon, yes, take my statement as a compliment. I give you props for that. But as an expectant mother, your stubbornness and ignoring your body’s cues can be detrimental to your baby.”

A blush crept up Ingrid’s neck and blossomed into her cheeks. He was chastising her, though he had no right to since for the first seven months of this pregnancy she’d been doing this on her own, but, then, she’d said he could be involved and apparently he was taking that seriously.

Of course she noticed he hadn’t said “our baby” but “your baby,” and that ticked her off.

“You still don’t think this baby is yours, do you?”

Clint cocked his head. “Give me one reason why I should believe you haven’t had another lover since me.”

Other. Lover?

Her cheeks heated with anger and embarrassment.

“Do you want a paternity test?” she finally managed to ask.

“I do.”

Ingrid nodded. “You’ll have one, but you were my first and only.”

His eyes darkened as his gaze riveted her to the spot. There was an intensity to it that made her blood heat with longing.

She looked away and cleared her throat.

“I know how to take care of myself. I’m a physician as well. I know trauma guys and meatballers like you don’t think much of orthopedic surgeons, but I know how to take care of myself.”

“Look, Ingrid, I don’t mean to lecture you—”

“Of course you do.” Ingrid sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, which had started to ache, and her head was beginning to throb. “It was bad enough that even in this modern day and age I’ve had to live with the stigma of this unexpected pregnancy. Being a doctor to boot doesn’t help with all the ‘Didn’t you use protection?’ comments. I just don’t want the gossipmongers at the hospital suspecting something. I don’t want them to know.”

“They’re bound to find out soon enough. You shouldn’t take all the blame for that faulty birth-control. I didn’t expect the condom to break.”

“Neither did I.” Ingrid sighed. “It was my fault just as much as yours.”

“I know.” Clint smiled.

“You should’ve resisted me.”

Clint snorted. “Right, I’m going to resist a very persistent, hot blonde from taking advantage of me before I went on deployment.” The teasing stopped and he tensed. She wondered what was wrong and when she looked at him, for the first time since they’d bumped into each other again she could see the changes in him.

He’d lost weight and in the dark hair was a bit of gray. The dark circles under his eyes could be from the long shifts, but the stress lines and the way his jaw was clenched spoke of something deeper. A thin scar crossed his cheek under the stubble.

The soldier she’d had that one night-stand with was gone. This Clint was altered and she couldn’t help but wonder what had been responsible for it. Then she recalled he’d been leaving for a long tour of duty, and wouldn’t normally be back this quick and discharged this fast.

Something had happened.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Clint shook his head. “No, there’s nothing wrong. Why would you ask me that?”

Ingrid shrugged. “You seemed to tense up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Dr. Walton. I’m fine.” Only it was the way he’d said “I’m fine,” as if he was forcing himself to say it, that made Ingrid think he was lying.

Well, even if he was, she didn’t have time to bandy words with him any longer. She had a job to do.

“I should get back to work.” Ingrid tried to sidestep him but he moved his arm from blocking her path and took a step toward her. Just that simple movement in her direction made Ingrid’s heart beat just a bit faster. He tipped her chin so she was forced to look up at him.

Even though he’d changed, he was as sexy as ever. She’d forgotten just how sexy he was.

Before, when she’d thought back to that one night, she’d almost wondered if she’d over-romanticized him. Boy, had she been wrong. Even stone-cold sober, he made her feel weak at the knees.

It’s the pregnancy hormones. Yes, that had to be it. Now they were making her swoon.

“Please, Clint,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

Only he didn’t move away when she asked him and she was worried he was going to kiss her, And how could she resist him?

Right now she couldn’t, because right now there were so many emotions plaguing her mind she was on the verge of losing control and that was not acceptable. That was not how she had been raised.