Two and a half months early. Something was very wrong. She knew it deep inside her. Her baby was in serious trouble and there was nothing she could do about it. And she was all alone. Shane, the bold, strong Secret Service agent who she’d thought would always protect her, no matter what, was out of town on an undercover assignment. “Help me,” she cried to the doctor. “You’ve got to help me. Help my baby. Something’s wrong with my baby.” Please, God, don’t let the baby die. The doctor, with his green scrubs, chubby cheeks, and coffee-colored skin, stared at the monitor. Then he looked at her. He was a professional. He knew how to hide his feelings, but for one brief second, she saw both fear and pity in his eyes. And in that awful moment, Tish knew the dream was over. Nothing would ever be the same again. The wonderful, romantic fantasy that began that night in Louie’s nightclub, the night Shane sauntered into her life and swept her off her feet, was shattered. The magic vanished.
