A Family Worth Waiting For: The Midwife's Miracle Baby

Campbell laughed, a deep hearty noise. Claire joined him. It was easier to laugh than to try and wrap her head around what had just transpired.

Gradually their mirth subsided, leaving them staring into each other’s eyes again.

‘Campbell, I …’ Claire groped for the right words to express her wonder.

‘Shh,’ he ordered quietly, placing his fingers against her ravaged mouth. ‘Don’t say anything.’

Claire felt a tingle in her lips beneath his fingers and was suddenly aware of her nakedness. The air cooling her skin was the merest of caresses.

Campbell noticed the change in her eyes immediately. The glaze cleared, to be replaced by the flame of rekindled desire. His pulse, which had only just settled, picked up again. His breathing became shallower.

Her lips pressed together, laying a gentle kiss against his fingers. Such a sweet, almost innocent thing for her to do, especially given what had just happened. But his reaction to it was swift and definitely not innocent. His erection, still the same one from the deck, raged against the confines of his zipper, almost bursting free.

‘I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dr Deane,’ she whispered, and Campbell groaned as she vaulted up and straddled him all in one smooth movement.

If he’d thought she’d looked magnificent before, nothing prepared him for this view. Gloriously naked, sitting astride him, her breasts jutting, nipples dark, still engorged from his earlier attentions.

She pressed her hips down onto his denim-clad erection, smiling knowingly. She rubbed herself against him as she threw her head back, revelling in her power.

She leaned closer to him so her mouth was mere millimetres from his, her breasts touching the rough fabric of his shirt. She rubbed them slowly against the material, kissing his mouth simultaneously.

He felt her low moan against his lips as it escaped hers. She lifted her mouth and grinned wickedly at him. He smiled back, wondering what was going on inside her head to give her that smug look. She shifted slightly, presenting a breast to his mouth, just out of reach. Campbell licked his lips, his throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

Campbell groaned as Claire slowly, bit by bit, lowered herself into his mouth. He sucked greedily the second he felt her puckered flesh nudge his lips. He missed her sharp intake of breath as his moan of satisfaction rumbled through his head.

She tasted so good it was suddenly too much for Campbell. He grasped her hips and ground them against his erection. He heard her cry out as she continued his action, writhing against him. It felt incredible. Her breast in his mouth and her pelvis rocking into his. He dug his fingers into her buttocks, encouraging her to continue.

‘We really must do something about these clothes,’ she murmured, as she tugged at the hem of his shirt, yanked it up over his head and flung it across the room, where it joined her camisole.

Campbell found her proximity too hard to ignore as his hands caressed her back and his lips sought the elegant length of her neck. He wanted to taste every inch of her.

‘Nuh-uh,’ she admonished, wagging her finger at him as she pushed him backwards gently. He reached for her again and she slapped his hand away playfully. Campbell thought he was going to lose his mind. He had to touch her.

‘Claire,’ he groaned. Campbell wasn’t at all sure he could last the distance. He felt ready to erupt at any second.

She opened her eyes and grinned that wicked grin.

‘Temptress,’ he accused. His voice trembled with desire.

She laughed and pushed herself off him, hushing his complaint. ‘Still too many clothes,’ she said, and reached for his zipper.

Campbell hastily lifted his hips off the bed, and as she divested him first of the denim and then his cotton underwear. He suppressed the urge to groan out loud as his erection finally sprang free of its cloth prison.

Campbell sat up and tried to drag Claire closer.

‘Nuh-uh.’ She shook her head and then knelt in front of him, kissing him full and deep and long on the lips. Campbell felt the blood rush through his veins as the heat from the kiss burned a hole in his stomach lining.

‘Claire,’ he said urgently, pulling her off him to look into her eyes. It was almost his undoing, seeing them drunk with passion, her mouth swollen and moist from kissing him. They stared at each other, their harsh breathing the only noise in the room.

He kissed her again roughly, plundering her mouth. ‘I want it to be perfect the first time. I want to be inside you. I want to feel you around me.’

He watched her as she considered his words for a moment.

‘OK.’

Campbell fell back on the bed, bringing her with him until she once again straddled him. He clutched her hips and surrendered to the sensation of her lithe naked body lowering itself onto him. Campbell groaned as bit by bit she swallowed his erection into her tight, moist depth.

He heard a corresponding moan and he pulled out and plunged in again just to hear it once more. She didn’t disappoint him. Each moan from her enticed him to plunge again, deeper and harder.

Campbell knew he was coming almost from the first time he entered her. He pushed it aside and held it off for as long as possible, but when he heard Claire’s escalating cries and felt her begin to contract around him, he knew he was spiralling out of control.

He gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into the tanned skin. His body tensed and then bucked and reared as his climax erupted.

Their cries rose and mingled as their separate orgasms became one.

CHAPTER FIVE (#u70b3c252-7574-5df0-be50-882125b835b7)

CLAIRE woke at 4.30 to the first signs of the encroaching dawn. Campbell’s hand rested, heavy and warm, on her flat stomach. She looked into his face, relaxed in slumber, his hair flopping in his eyes, and remembered how it had looked last night, animated with passion. She suppressed the urge to kiss his, oh so tempting mouth. That would probably wake him, and Claire had to get going.

Her mother would be awake in an hour and it was imperative that she be home. Claire always tried to be there first thing, to attend to her mother’s personal needs. It allowed her father, who got up twice a night to change Mary’s position, to get as much sleep as possible before he began his long day caring for his wife. It also preserved her dignity—what was left of it.

As she gazed on Campbell’s sleeping face, her heart contracted with an emotion too frightening to analyse. Thinking about her mother was just the bucket of cold water she needed to bring her back to reality. Last night had been a mistake. She should have been stronger.

It wasn’t fair to become involved with him when she knew that one day she might end up like her mother. She didn’t want Campbell to have to go through what her father was now going through—no one should have to.

And what if he didn’t want to? Shane had wasted no time in leaving after the bombshell had hit. And he had been in love with her—supposedly. She couldn’t bear being rejected like that again.

And what about Campbell’s desire to have children and his feelings about bringing children into the world when a genetic illness existed? Her decision to remain childless would deny him the baby he yearned for, and he’d made it quite plain that he wouldn’t want one with mutant genes anyway.

No. It was better this way. There were too many reasons they couldn’t be together. Claire gently removed his arm and slid out from under the sheet. She gathered her clothes in the semi-gloom and quickly put them on. Campbell didn’t stir. It took every ounce of her self-control to walk away.

* * *

Campbell knew the instant he woke up that he was alone. Somehow he wasn’t surprised. Disappointed was a better word. Being with Claire had been fantastic. Not just the sex. It was about more than that. Snuggling close as they’d drifted off to sleep had somehow seemed natural. Right. It would have been perfect to have woken up and been able to reach out and touch her. Talk to her. Tell her he loved her.

Yes, Campbell thought, rolling onto his back, he loved her. There was no sense denying it or trying to wrap it up any other way. Holding her, kissing her, making love to her last night had cemented his realisation. He had fallen for her hard. He basked in the truth.

But did she love him? Somehow he suspected that it was still too early in their relationship for Claire. So could she, or rather would she, allow herself to love him, too?

The afterglow that he’d woken with was starting to fade as the questions kept coming. How should he proceed? What he wanted to do was make a huge romantic declaration. He loved her and he wanted to share his feelings with her. Hell, he wanted to shout it to the world.

But the sensible part of him urged caution. It had been a long, hard slog getting her to agree to a date, and that had only eventuated because he’d shamelessly taken advantage of her at a weak moment. Getting her to fall in love with him was a big call.

Campbell acknowledged he was going to have to be patient. Not one of his best traits. But if that’s what it required, he was willing to give it a go. He’d woo her slowly, subtly, and before she knew it she’d be declaring her undying love. He needed a plan.

He puzzled over it for a few minutes, formulating a recipe for success. Yes, he mused, it was all about the three Ps. Patience. Persistence. Presence. The last one particularly. It would be important to see her as much as possible. Show her the time of her life, make her see what she’d been missing all these years.

Not just lots of sex, although that’d be nice. No. It was about more than that. It was about having fun together, laughing, talking, sharing. Lovers’ stuff. And no pressure. Just always being there until she couldn’t recall what life had been like without him. Until she said those three little words.