His Sugar Baby(83)

She was seated tensely on the edge of a chair. Her head jerked up at sound of her name. Her eyes were reddened and puffy. The black tracks of mascara had melted under her dark eyes. She leaped to her feet and surged toward him, her hands outstretched. “Michael!”

He caught her hands in a painful grip.

“Lambert? What are you doing here?”

Michael didn’t acknowledge the astonished query. All of his attention was focused on Vicky Sotero and what she could tell him. He snapped hoarsely, “Where is she, Vicky?”

The expression in Vicky’s huge eyes was tragic. “In ICU. The doctor said—”

But Michael didn’t wait to hear what else she would have said. He swept past her, making his way purposefully to the doors of the ICU.

“Michael!” Vicky hurried after him and grabbed his arm. “Cathy wouldn’t want you to do this! I just called you because—”

He turned an icy stare on her, demanding fiercely, “What did you think I would do? Did you really think that I was just going to walk away? Maybe come back to watch her buried? I’m not going anywhere! She wouldn’t let me be there for her and Chloe, but I will damn sure be here for her now!”

Vicky shrank back. The Thompsons appeared to be shocked to speechlessness.

A nurse tried to head Michael off. “Sir, you can’t go in there. Sir!”

Michael paid no attention. He shoved open the metal door to ICU and went in, the others following in his wake. By then, Darryl had hurried in, and he brought up the rear.

The physician on duty turned. A frown deepened the fatigue on his face. “This area is restricted to family only.”

“Who the hell do you think you are, Lambert, barging in?” demanded John Thompson angrily. “You haven’t got any right to be here.”

Michael ignored him and everything else. He had eyes only for the woman lying on the bed in front of him. She lay very still, her face deathly pale. Her eyes were closed. Tubes went into her nose and her arms. There was the ping of a heart monitor. She appeared very fragile, all of her fire extinguished. Her auburn curls were stark ribbons against the white pillow. Without taking his gaze from her, Michael addressed the physician. A tick was jumping in his tightly-held jaw. “Is she all right?”

“And you are?” The physician’s tone was cool.

Michael tore his gaze away and turned to the doctor. Grimly, he said, “Lambert, Michael Lambert. The father of her baby.”

“You son of a bitch!” John Thompson stepped forward, grabbing for Michael’s shoulder.

Suddenly Darryl was there, insinuating himself between the two men. His long brown fingers wrapped around John Thompson’s forearm. “That’ll be enough, my man.”

Michael shook off Thompson’s stubborn hold. He looked into the man’s angry blue eyes and said swiftly, “We broke up. I didn’t know she was pregnant until Vicky called me. I came as soon as I heard.”

“Is this true, Vicky?” Pam pinned an accusing glare on the woman. “You called him? You know that Cathy didn’t want to see him again!”

“He had a right to know!” Vicky was defiant, but she was biting her lip.

“It wasn’t your decision to make!”

“She’s dying!” Vicky jammed a fist against her mouth. Fresh tears streamed down her face.

Michael couldn’t take any more. His voice cracked like a whip. “Is she going to live?”

The physician looked narrowly at him. At whatever he saw, he gave a sharp nod. “Ms. Somerset suffered internal injuries, Mr. Lambert. She hemorrhaged heavily and had internal bleeding. We weren’t able to save the fetus. We just brought her out of surgery.”

“And?” Michael could feel himself quivering. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He felt like he was going to explode or be sick or both. A sense of helplessness pervaded him.

“As I have already related to Ms. Somerset’s family, I will not hide from you my grave concerns about the blood loss. Ms. Somerset required massive transfusions. She has a rare blood type, a rare negative, and we have exhausted our on-hand supply. We have ordered more to be flown in. If it arrives in time…”

Michael felt himself steadying. He nodded, his gaze once more fastening on her waxen face. He undid the cuff at his wrist and jerkily started to roll up his shirt sleeve. “I’ll give her the time she needs. I’m O negative.”

“A universal donor.” The physician’s eyes crinkled with his slight smile. “Your timing could not be better.”

Michael looked back to the physician. “Drain me. I’ll sign any paperwork you want.”

The physician gave an abrupt nod. He barked orders to the hovering staff. “Another bed, people. Prep the man. I want the consent forms stat! Let’s move it! And get these other people out of here!”

A nurse urged the others out of the ICU. Darryl hung back for a moment to clap a hand against Michael’s shoulder. “Good luck!”

Michael gave a nod, glancing up only briefly as his friend left the ICU.





After she was stabilized, Cathy was moved to a private room. She wakened, groggy and disoriented. She became aware of small sounds, familiar sounds, and low voices. The hospital. She forced up her heavy eyelids. Bright light seared her eyes then her sight steadied. Her sister’s anxious face hovered over her, and over Pam’s shoulder, she saw her brother-in-law’s wearied features. She wet her dry lips. “Hi.” She could barely hear herself, but she saw the change in Pam’s expression.