Triplets for the Texan (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 5)

She roused slowly, those incredibly long lashes fluttering as she came back to him. “What happened?”

When she tried to rise up onto her elbows, he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down. “Give yourself a minute to recover. You’ve had a shock.”

Even befuddled and wrapped in a generic blanket, she was striking. Her blue eyes were electric, somewhere between royal and aquamarine. Her hair made as much of an impact as her eyes. The smooth, silky fall was the black of a raven’s wing...shot through with blue in the sunlight. He tried not to remember what it felt like to wrap his hands in all that thick, glorious hair. At one time, it had reached almost to her waist. The style was shorter now, but still a couple of inches below her shoulders.

Her gaze cleared gradually. “S

o I wasn’t dreaming.” The words were not really a question.

“No.”

“I want to sit up.”

He helped her, though it was difficult to touch her. She made him feel like a gawky adolescent. That was bloody uncomfortable for a man supposed to be in charge of Royal, Texas’s world-class obstetrics department.

“I apologize for springing it on you, Simone. There’s no easy way to drop that bomb. I have to tell you I’m surprised and concerned that you’ve chosen this option.”

“I’m not getting any younger.” The set of her jaw was mulish.

He remembered all too well what Simone was like when she made up her mind about something. “You’re not even thirty. Couldn’t you have waited and taken the traditional route?” he asked.

The wash of color that had returned to her face leached away again. Her eyes glittered with something that might have been pain or anger. “I tried that once or twice. I’m not a fan. Men complicate things.”

The blunt retort was a direct shot at him. It found its mark. Clearly, Simone still blamed him for their breakup. He wanted to fight back, but it was pointless after all this time. His job wasn’t to be her friend, or even her boyfriend. He was charged with overseeing her medical care.

“I suppose it’s a moot point now,” he said, feeling weary and discouraged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind. Do you want to terminate the pregnancy? If that’s your decision, hospital staff would of course preserve your privacy.”

Simone blinked. “Is that what you think I should do?”

He weighed his words carefully. “Having triplets is an enormous commitment, even for a two-parent family. You would be doing this alone.”

She stared at him. Her restless fingers pleated the edges of the blanket. “I want these babies.”

He cocked his head, trying to read her emotions. “You wanted one baby, Simone. I think you need to weigh the situation seriously. While it’s still very early.”

“There’s nothing to consider. I made a choice. I have to live with the consequences.”

“For the rest of your life.”

Hot color streaked her cheekbones. “I know you think I’m flighty and impulsive and a lightweight. What you don’t realize is that I’ve grown up a lot in the time you’ve been gone. I can do this.”

“But why?” That’s what confused him. It wasn’t as if she was running out of time. Besides, she had never particularly struck him as the maternal type.

“My reasons are my business, Dr. Hutchinson. Am I free to go now?”

There were secrets in her eyes and in her heart. He knew it. The two of them might have been separated by time and distance for the past few years, but there had been a moment when he had known everything about her. Every thought. Every feeling. Every beat of her energetic, enthusiastic, passionate heart.

The Simone he knew jumped into life with both feet, usually via the deep end. She had her naysayers—Royal was a relatively small town with a long memory. Her youthful missteps had cost her. A reputation was a hard thing to shake. But he knew she had a good heart.

“Just hear me out. You should know, Simone, that a multiple pregnancy immediately puts you in the high-risk category. The hospital hired me for my expertise. I’ll be overseeing your case indirectly. Dr. Fetter will alert me if any problems arise. Will that be a problem?”

Simone blinked. “Do you have any crackers?”

“Excuse me?” Had his hearing taken a hit in Sudan?

“I need saltines. I’m about to puke.”

Oh, lord. “Hold on,” he said. Opening the door to the hallway, he bellowed for a nurse. The poor woman must have sprinted, because she was back in two minutes with the crackers and a cup of ice chips.