The Miracle Twins

“A lot of years have passed since then.”

“Five, to be precise.”

She sighed. “I haven’t come here to rehash the past.”

“Then why are you here?”

She hesitated for an awkward beat of silence. Then she lifted her chin and announced, “I need a favor that only you can grant.”

His eyebrows rose. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t find a date for the Emmys so you’re falling back on an old relationship?”

Her cheeks burned even more and she clenched her fists, but her voice remained calm and even. “No. I need your help with a professional matter and you’re the only person I can trust.”

Nick snorted. He should have known. She’d come for a story, nothing more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t give interviews.”

“I haven’t come for an interview.”

He rocked back on his heels, eyeing her suspiciously. “Then what do you want?”

“I need your help with a…medical matter.”

For the first time, Nick was forced to acknowledge that Lucy’s pallor might be a result of something other than mere vanity. Was Lucy ill? The thought was more disturbing that he cared to admit.

Instantly, he was swamped by the urge to protect her, but he pushed the sensation away in self-disgust. He’d experienced those same emotions before, and look where they’d taken him.

“I’m a pediatric surgeon,” he said bluntly. “You’re a little old for my specialty.”

“I know.”

When she continued to watch him with pleading ice-green eyes, the full meaning of her response sank into his brain. “You have…a child with a problem?”

“Yes.”

She was married.

Or not. Women didn’t necessarily marry these days in order to have a baby.

Still, the image of Lucy with a child was unsettling. He’d assumed that she was single and unfettered by family ties. Call it hubris, but he’d believed that if she wouldn’t marry him, she wouldn’t marry anyone.

A baby. His hands curled into fists and he fought the tension gathering in his stomach.

“No.” His response was low and curt.

“No?” she echoed blankly.

“No, I can’t help you. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I won’t help you,” he said firmly. Any prolonged contact he might have would only breed more trouble.

Nick turned, making his way toward the door.

“Wait!” She reached out, stopping him. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”

Her touch was like a firebrand and his reaction was visceral and complete. Damn it all, hadn’t he learned anything? The sexual attraction between them had always been intense and instantaneous. But there was no substance to their emotions, nothing other than passion. They’d never had what it took to make a truly lasting relationship. That had been the most painful truth he’d had to acknowledge five years earlier. Eventually he’d seen that it was better the two of them hadn’t married. They’d each been too independent and too self-absorbed to sustain anything but a passionate affair.

“You’ve got to hear me out,” Lucy said urgently, tugging on his arm. “Please.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a photograph. “This is the reason I’ve come to you for help.”

Chapter Two

It took a moment for Nick to absorb what he was seeing. The photo was of two children placed close enough together that their bodies touched and appeared to be entwined. No, not entwined.

Conjoined.

As Nick peered at the picture, he could see that the tiny, naked bodies were fused from the breast-bone to the abdomen. Otherwise, the little girls, no more than a few weeks old, looked fairly healthy, if a little underweight.

He was so absorbed in studying the twins that he couldn’t even remember how he’d come to be holding the photograph. “Where did you get this?”

“The children—the twins—have been placed in my care.”

His forehead creased. The twins were dark as the finest chocolate. Wisps of black fluff dusted the tops of their heads and eyes bright as new coins stared curiously in the direction of the camera’s lens. Judging by the clarity of the shot and the haunting quality of the image, the photo had probably been taken by Lucy. During her undergraduate studies, she’d made a name for herself with her stark portrait photography—a sideline job that had helped Lucy pay her way through college.

With a wave of shame, Nick realized that Lucy had been honest in insisting that she’d come to him for medical reasons rather than personal ones. He could only imagine how much it had cost her pride to approach him.

Nevertheless, as he traced a thumb over the photograph, a part of Nick urged him to say no once again and send Lucy on her way. He’d be a fool to put himself into a position of working closely with her. But even as he considered refusing, he knew the children’s plight couldn’t be ignored.

“Where were they born?”

“In Zaire, in a village along the Congo River. They were left in an orphanage after their mother died in childbirth.”

“How old are they?”

“Nearly three months.”

“They’re awfully small for three months.”

“They are underweight for their age. When their mother died, the hospital had a hard time obtaining breast milk. The children have had some difficulties adjusting to formula. A good portion of their food has to be administered through a feeding tube.”

Bit by bit, the significance of Lucy’s visit began to sink in. Nick knew instinctively that Lucy hadn’t come to him merely for advice. She wanted more than that. Much more.

“You’re here to see if they can be separated.”

It wasn’t a question, but Lucy nodded.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can help.”