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He hesitated for a moment or two, as though struggling to keep his mind on track, but then he pulled himself together and said, ‘It’s, uh … easily treated with intravenous calcium gluconate. Eventually things sort themselves out and the babies start to function normally … which is just as well, because Sammy sort of pulls at your heart, doesn’t he, being so tiny?’
‘Yes, he does.’ She glanced at him. He seemed distracted. Was he as conscious as she was of the sudden tension that had sprung up between them?
His glance drifted over her, gliding along the swell of her hip outlined by the gently flowing skirt she was wearing, before returning to dwell on the pink flush of her cheeks. ‘I … uh …’ He made a visible effort to get back to the matter in hand. ‘I thought you did really well to come up with the diagnosis.’
‘Yes … well, I’m glad I can chalk that one up as a success.’ How on earth was she going to cope when he came to live at the house? Then there would be nowhere to hide, no means of escape.
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