Connie Cox - The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical

Tears tracked down her face. “Look, Jason. Our baby is so …”

He didn’t have the words either. Instead he wiped away her tears with his thumb, then on instinct followed with his lips.

A lump of tenderness rose in his throat, followed by a huge mass of protectiveness in his heart.

It was this kind of emotion that made a doctor miss important signs and symptoms. He worked hard to get himself under control, even though the warmth of Stephanie’s hand distracted him.

Their child. One father. One mother. One child.

And together the three of them made up a family. The concept sent a shiver down his spine and raised the hairs on his arms.

Dear Reader

When I sat down to write this story it was as if I’d just stepped off the elevator at the Sheffield Memorial Paediatric Diagnostics Floor to see Dr Jason Drake, with all his intensity, in a locked stare with Dr Stephanie Montclair—his equal in every way.

Frankly, I just held on for the ride as they battled illness along with their attraction to each other.

A calling to the medical profession is an emotional pull born of sympathy and nurturing. Yet doctors, particularly those who work with children, must not become overwhelmed with emotion to the point where they cannot apply medical science and logic. It’s a struggle to find that balance, and it can take a great toll on the spirit. But not bearing that load alone is what this story is all about.

Dr Jason Drake and Dr Stephanie Montclair find respite in each other’s arms, but they need more. Will proud, strong heiress Stephanie risk heartache when Jason proposes to share responsibility for her professional burdens as well as for her unborn baby? Can the stoic and brilliant Jason accept the emotional healing Stephanie offers to sustain him through the trials of his profession as well as the tragedy of his past? And, when these decisions take a life-or-death turn, will love conquer all?

These two dynamic doctors kept me on the edge of my seat from beginning to end. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed sharing it with you. Let me know!

Connie

www.ConnieCox.com

CONNIE COXhas loved Harlequin Mills and Boon ®romances since she was a young teen. Now to be a Mills and Boon ®author is a fantasy come to life. By training, Connie is an electrical engineer. Through her first job, working on nuclear scanners and other medical equipment, she gained a unique perspective into the medical world. She is fascinated by the inner strength of medical professionals, who must balance emotional compassion with stoic logic, and is honoured to showcase the passion of these dedicated professionals through her own passion of writing. Married to the boy-next-door, Connie is the proud mother of one terrific daughter and son-in-law, and one precocious dachshund.

Connie would love to hear from you. Visit her website at www.ConnieCox.com

This is Connie’s first book for M&B Medical ™Romance. Look out for more from her coming soon!

Connie Cox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Sonia, sister of my heart,

who always believes in me, and to Amy and Winnie,

who follow their bliss and inspire me to do the same.

SHE’D done it. She’d sold Dr. Jason Drake’s reputation for three million dollars and a closed case.

As Director of Diagnostics, Dr. Stephanie Montclair had agreed to pay off the family’s wrongful death claim, with Dr. Jason Drake’s name on the line as the attending physician and no fault levied against Sheffield Memorial Hospital.

“We all tried our best to keep that precious little boy alive. Dr. Drake stayed up here three days straight trying to save little Isaac,” Stephanie offered in token protest to the ring of lawyers that surrounded her desk.

“You’re doing the right thing,” the chief legal counselor reassured her. “A good prosecuting attorney would have a judge and jury in tears inside three minutes flat. Even if we were to win the suit in the end, Sheffield Memorial can’t risk the prolonged negative publicity. And if Dr. Drake is called to the stand, with his brash manner, we can’t predict how he’ll come across.”

Reluctantly, Stephanie agreed. Jason was a great doctor—one of the best—but he’d never seen the need to sugarcoat his words.

“There has to be a better way. Sanction me instead.”

“Not an option, Dr. Montclair. The board would never approve it, and rightly so,” one of the lawyers said. “That move could put the whole department in jeopardy.”

The case had been heartbreaking. In conjunction with Diagnostics, Sheffield’s Neonatal Unit had tried scores of unorthodox methods to keep the premature infant alive, many of them beyond the edge of convention, only to have the grieving parents lash out at the hospital to try to ease their pain.

That little Isaac’s parents were high-profile celebrities hadn’t helped. The grief-stricken couple had threatened to call in every publicity connection they had if Sheffield Memorial didn’t take action against the culprit who’d killed their baby.

Stephanie could understand the parents’ anguish. Although she’d only known about her own baby a few short weeks, the thought of losing that tiny life inside her sent heavy waves of dread through her heart.

Still, she and the lawyers couldn’t make them understand there was nothing Jason or anyone else could have done better.

And now the hospital’s reputation was in danger. As a small, private research and teaching hospital, Sheffield Memorial kept its doors open only through grants and goodwill.

Dr. Wilkins chimed in. “Stephanie, the board recommendation to name Dr. Drake in the lawsuit is the least harmful action we can take for the greater good. Dr. Drake might have his shortcomings, but he’s one of the top diagnostic physicians in the world. His stellar professional standing can take the hit with no lasting, detrimental effect. That’s why we shell out the big bucks for his malpractice insurance.”

Not only was Wilkins the board’s treasurer, he was a family friend who had attended her christening. He knew her Achilles’ heel.

“We’ve already seen a drop in patient referrals. A messy court case along with a star-studded media circus would call our accreditations into question and jeopardize critical funding. We would have to turn away sick children who need us.”

Before she could waver, she signed on the dotted line. Each of the hospital’s team of lawyers stood and shook her hand, sealing the deal. She would be washing that hand as soon as possible.

As they left her office, Dr. Wilkins hung back from the others. “The board and I were worried you’d let your personal relationship with Dr. Drake influence your decision. They will be pleased to learn you had no qualms about putting Sheffield Memorial first.”

Stephanie clearly heard the unspoken threat behind his words, despite the fact the hospital was named after her maternal great-grandfather.

Doctors ran on both sides of the family. Her mother was a cardiologist. Her father an endocrinologist. Both sat on the hospital board. Although if a newcomer had suggested Stephanie had been appointed to her current position of Director of Pediatric Diagnostics because of who she was, instead of what she did, she hoped any of the hospital personnel would be quick to disabuse them. Stephanie worked day and night to be twice as competent as any other department head and prove she’d earned her position.