Page 20 of Stolen Salvation

“Thank you.”

Charlie snatched the papers from the woman’s hand, her jealousy spilling over slightly and causing a raised brow from Noah. Why were men so oblivious when women flirted with them?

Noah guided her to a seat with his hand on her back and she fought the irrational desire to swat it away.

Leaning in, he whispered in her hair. “What’s wrong?”

Ignoring the form on a clipboard on her lap, she pulled back to look at his gorgeous tawny eyes. “Nothing. I just think it would be better for this mission if you didn’t flirt with the receptionist.”

A deep chuckle reverberated up his throat. “Well, this is new. You were never the jealous type before.”

“I’m not jealous, asshat,” she hissed between her teeth.

Noah grinned and planted a kiss square on her lips. “Course you’re not.”

Her reply was cut short as a doctor in black wingtips and pressed grey trousers interrupted them.

“Mr and Mrs Salisbury, I’m Dr Joseph. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dr Joseph was medium height, with dark hair, greying at the temples and dark, ebony skin. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose and his smile was warm and genuine. Despite the reason for being there, Charlie found herself wanting to trust him. He wasn’t the man she’d seen on the screen leading Andrea away and that was good. Although Watchdog was running facial on him and doing a search.

“Thank you for seeing us on short notice.”

“My pleasure. Shall we?” He ushered them down a well-lit corridor the pale grey of the walls covered in brightly coloured obscure artwork with little titled placards below each piece. His office was large with an exam table along the right-side wall, cabinets beneath the window, and a wooden desk. One wall of the room was filled with images of cherubic little faces.

Pulled like a magnet Charlie moved across to get a closer look and take in all the babies in the pictures, some with hair and some completely bald. Some with scrunched-up faces and others looking beatific. All of them were a miracle of nature. Her gut rolled and clenched, and she let it come knowing it would help her cover to let this man see her pain.

“My success stories. I always ask for a picture for my wall to show my patients when they walk in that there’s always hope.”

“That’s beautiful.”

Dr Joseph clasped his hands in front of him. “I agree.”

Her gaze moved to Noah who was watching her, his expression belying the pain she knew he was feeling. The loss of their own child was an open wound that would never heal.

“We shall begin with a history and then an exam and go from there.”

Charlie took her seat next to Noah, allowing him to reach over and clasp her hand, threading their fingers and holding them on his lap. The next fifteen minutes were spent giving Dr Joseph the story they’d rehearsed.

“Have you ever carried a pregnancy to any kind of term?”

The question caught her off guard and Charlie tried to swallow the bile speeding up her throat. Sweat dotted her brow and she blinked to clear the tears.

“We lost a child at twenty-seven weeks.”

Her gaze swung to Noah at the admission which was off-script and his hand tightened on hers, but he didn’t look at her.

“I’m sorry. Do you know what the cause was? I have nothing in your records.”

“We were living abroad at the time,” Noah quickly added.

“I see.”

“I fell.”

Noah’s eyes moved over her face as she looked at him. Anguish and guilt cut her insides like sharp blades as Charlie placed a hand over her flat stomach. She’d loved being pregnant, the feel of her son kicking and turning. Lying with Noah with his hand over her belly as he sang the wrong lyrics to their favourite song to their baby.

“I’d climbed on a chair to reach something and fell. It put me into early labour, but he was too little and didn’t survive.”