The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,100

on its way.” The older paramedic, a woman with barb on her name tag, took her blood pressure. “Nothing can stop these little blighters when they want to come.”

Samira waited until the cuff pressure eased before murmuring, “But it’s too early. I’m only thirty-two weeks.”

She glimpsed a flicker of something in Barb’s eyes before the paramedic said, “We’ll take good care of you. You can give us your ob-gyn’s details in the ambulance, but I’ll be honest, love, you’re not going to the hospital you probably booked into. We’re taking you to the closest one.”

Samira bit back a cry as another blinding cramp, which she now knew to be a contraction, tore through her. Sweat broke out over her skin, and her palms grew clammy.

“Take me anywhere you goddamn want,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Done.” Barb squeezed her hand. “You’ll get the best possible care. Now, can you walk out to the stretcher?”

Samira nodded, though it was more a hobble as it felt like her baby had descended and was clawing its way out of her. She may be a physical therapist who knew about strengthening the pelvic floor and strong core and abdominals to help with labor, but she knew next to nothing about the possible complications of a premature birth.

She’d been lulled into a false sense of security, feeling invincible she could do this on her own. She thought she’d done everything right by this baby, but what if the stress of pining for Rory had brought this early labor on?

A wild supposition, maybe, but as they strapped her into the back of the ambulance, then she clung onto the metal railings as it seemed to travel at breakneck speed to the nearest hospital, she hated the ongoing doubt that she’d done the wrong thing in making herself unhappy and thus affecting her cortisol levels.

Her mom and Pia were driving behind the ambulance, and one of them would have her cell. Amid the terror and the fear and the pain, she knew what she had to do.

She had to contact Rory and tell him their baby was on the way.

Forty-Seven

Relieved his dad would be okay, Rory headed toward his car parked out front of the hospital. He’d wanted to make sure his dad wasn’t underplaying his stroke before he made an all-important phone call to Samira. He had his plan all worked out, and this time he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

As he slid behind the steering wheel, his cell beeped and he glanced at the screen. Fantastic. Just the woman he wanted to contact. However, as he read the message, fear gripped his heart and squeezed tight.

She was in labor at a hospital in Dandenong. She’d let him know as soon as the baby was born. The message was short and didn’t tell him much, but for a genius who had aced his economics degree, he could do the math.

This baby was being born eight weeks early.

Rory wasn’t a worrier as a rule. He let fate run its course. But after firing off a quick response, I’M HERE FOR YOU, WILL BE THERE AS FAST AS I CAN, he broke the land speed record between Prahran and Dandenong, reaching the hospital in twenty-five minutes.

She wouldn’t be expecting him. She’d think he was still in the outback, and while he didn’t wish his dad ill, he was glad he’d come back a few days early to visit Garth. Otherwise, he would’ve missed the birth of his child, and considering the complications of a premature birth . . . He didn’t know the specifics, but he knew enough to figure this could be dicey.

It took him five minutes to find the maternity ward and another five to convince the nursing staff his girlfriend was about to give birth. It wasn’t until Pia caught sight of him and told the nurses he was indeed the father that they let him in.

He didn’t know what to expect as he knocked on the door of Samira’s birthing suite. Loud screeching, moaning, maybe an expletive or two directed his way when she caught sight of him. However, as he eased the door open and saw her lying propped up in bed, her pallor matching the sheets, something in his chest twisted and he couldn’t breathe.

She looked absolutely terrified.

When she caught sight of him, she tried a tentative smile that ended in a crumple as she broke down, and he flew to her side, bundling her in his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,”

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