The Heart Surgeon's Baby Surprise Page 7
regalia, to find that the groom has changed his mind
would be, oh, I’d say a thousand times worse. Maybe
a million. Or a trillion!’
She stopped walking and turned to face him.
‘Of course, turning up at work a couple of weeks
later—I’d taken time off for my honeymoon, would
you believe—was easy after that.’
‘ Sto diablo! That happened to you? A man did that
to you? And you don’t want to—what? Castrate the lot
of us? Dio, Grace, you must have the courage of a lion
to have gone back to work and faced your friends and
colleagues.’
She turned away as if embarrassed by his words,
MEREDITH WEBBER
65
then swung back to face him, and he read the pain in
her face, but beyond the pain a strength of character that
filled him with admiration.
‘That man had devastated my personal life,’ she said,
her face pale and set in the moonlight that filtered
through the leaves of the tree beneath which they stood.
‘He’d killed my dreams of a perfect life with a husband
and a family, but there was no way on earth I’d let him
harm my professional one. So, of course, I had to go
back, pretending to not hear the whispers, ignoring the
snickers and the jibes.’
She gave a shrug and offered Theo the saddest smile
he’d ever seen.
‘It was a long time ago—I’m over it now,’ she said,
but he knew she wasn’t—knew she’d never trust
another man again. Knew, also, why she’d shut herself
off from what was considered normal small talk and
gossip—things at which all hospitals excelled. The
story would have circulated for months and she’d had
to work in an atmosphere of snide remarks and hidden
sniggers.
He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her
close, wrapping her in a gentle hug.
‘It explains why you want a stranger’s baby,’ he said
gently, his cheek resting against her soft hair, the deli-
cate perfume—was it really something as simple as
orange blossom?—of her shampoo tickling his nose.
She rested her body against his for a moment,
sighing with the night breeze, then she eased away.
‘Coffee,’ she said, as calmly as if she hadn’t just
ripped out her heart and offered it to him for his in-
spection.
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What could he say? He turned to walk beside her,
and when he put his arm around her waist she didn’t
shrug it away, suggesting she needed comfort after her
confession, although he knew she’d never have asked
for it. Not from him or any man—except perhaps her
father…
Was it he who’d helped her through that time?
Of course it would have been—he would have been
with her, leading her to the altar!
In that case she had extra reason to want to please
him with a grandchild…
‘Tell me about your home,’ he suggested, when they
were seated in the courtyard of the brasserie again,
cups of coffee in front of them.
‘My home?’ she repeated, as if the words were hard
to understand.
‘Where you live,’ Theo prompted, and finally saw her
smile, a genuine smile, warmed by happier memories.
‘It’s on the edge of the city, near vineyards. I have
an acre of land that Margie’s husband kind of looks
after. In actual fact, he hires gardeners to come in to cut
the grass and trim the hedges but he still grows the
most wonderful vegetables, and I have fruit trees,
peaches and apples and a cherry tree that never fruits
but is so pretty I haven’t the heart to cut it down. Margie
and her husband live in the house with me and my
father lives up the road, not far away.’
She paused and he knew from the peaceful look on
her face and the slight smile on her lips that she was pic-
turing her home.
‘We look out to the mountains. They’re quite close,
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and beautiful. There are riding trails so if the child
wants a pony, that would be fine.’
‘You rode there with your father?’ Theo guessed, and
Grace nodded, the smile gathering strength as better
memories surfaced.
‘Still do when we both have time, although it’s rare
these days. But he keeps our horses at his place and has
them cared for and exercised regularly.’
She paused and looked at him, the blue eyes watch-
ing him as if to gauge his reaction to something she was
unsure about saying.
‘I told you I wanted a grandchild for my father, but
that’s mostly because I didn’t want you to think I wanted
to get pregnant for silly or sentimental reasons, but I
know I have so much to offer a child, Theo. I’ve got a lot
of unused love for a start, and a wonderful place to live
where a child can be a child, running in the garden,
riding, climbing the hills, learning how things work and
grow…’
How could someone have jilted her like that? Theo
wondered, seeing the blue eyes shining with memories
and ideas—with the love she’d lavish on a child! She
might be a bit abrupt, but she was beautiful.
And sexy.
Should he put his proposition to her?
Suggest now that maybe the regular, proven and en-
joyable way of making babies would be—what? More
fun?
He doubted she’d go for that. She was a woman who
had relegated fun to a very low priority in her life.
Although if he convinced her that the regular way
had more chance of being successful?
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THE HEART SURGEON’S BABY SURPRISE
That might work, but was he being fair? He didn’t
want her accepting his advances purely for the sake of
a baby. Well, he did, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to make
the most of the attraction he felt, and which he was sure
was reciprocated, at the same time.
‘You’ve stopped listening,’ she said, and he had to
admit she was right.
‘It wasn’t that interesting anyway,’ she continued,
‘although having asked me about my home, you could
at least have pretended to listen.’
‘What a contrary woman you are! You put yourself
down and at the same time tear a strip off me. I was lis-
tening—riding trails and mountains and your father
keeps the horses. But I was thinking at the same time.’
‘About my suggestion? Would you be willing?’
She was so obviously excited he hated to squelch it,
so he said, ‘With some reservations—or perhaps revi-
sions would be a better word—yes.’
‘Revisions?’
She wasn’t stupid—she’d picked up on the crux of
the matter right away.
‘We’ll talk about them on the way home,’ he said,
standing up, then holding her chair for her as she stood.
How lon
g since a man who wasn’t my father did that
for me? Grace wondered, pleased by the gesture but
worried about these so-called ‘revisions’Theo had men-
tioned. How on earth could you revise a sperm donation?
But as they strolled through the park, she began to
suspect, for Theo’s arm, slung so casually around her
shoulders as they’d crossed the road, was now draw-
ing her closer to his body, his hand trailing lightly up
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and down her arm, making her nerves tingle with
awareness.
‘In France,’ he murmured, drawing her into the
deeper shadows of a huge tree, ‘they have a saying for
when two people meet and are attracted to each other.
They say their atoms hooked.’
He turned her so he was looking down into her face,
and she was thankful for the shadows so he wouldn’t
see the colour in her cheeks—brought on by uncer-
tainty, not prudishness. And now he brushed his lips
across her mouth in a questioning kiss.
‘Am I wrong in thinking ours have hooked?’ he mur-
mured.
She didn’t pull away, but neither did she agree, aware
he was correct in his assumption, yet very, very wary.
This wasn’t what she’d wanted.
In fact, it was the last thing she wanted, although she
understood now Theo’s talk of revisions.
And the problem was they made sense. Wouldn’t
having sex with Theo give her a better chance of con-
ceiving than messing around with some kind of artifi-
cial insemination—the logistics of which she hadn’t
fully worked out?
The kiss deepened—well, she hadn’t indicated that
he couldn’t kiss her, had she?—and she found herself
responding. Very tentatively moving her lips, even more
cautiously touching her tongue to his. Memories of
Paul’s derision were hammering in her head, hateful,
hurtful taunts coming back to haunt her.
‘I’m not very good at this,’ she muttered against
Theo’s lips, so softly she rather hoped he wouldn’t hear.
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But hear he must have, for he set her roughly aside and
stared down into her face, a stream of what she could
only imagine were Greek profanities issued from his
mouth.
CHAPTER FOUR
THEO drove slowly up the road towards the hospital,
clenching his hands on the steering-wheel so he’d feel
the tightness in the skin and tendons burned in the
accident, needing the reminder of why he didn’t want
to get emotionally involved again.
Not ever!
And not getting emotionally involved meant not
feeling sorry for Grace Sutherland when she came out
with things that made him realise how badly the rat
who’d left her at the altar had hurt her. Only with
Grace the scars were too deep to see. Deeply hidden
behind her cool composure and her slightly acid
tongue. Yes, her remote manner was definitely a
defence, like a suit of armour she wore to protect her
from further injury.
That he had his own protective armour didn’t bother
him in the least—that was different. He was a man but,
understanding, he could respect her defences.
He parked his car in a short-term doctors’ space,
wanting only to see how Scarlett was coping on the re-
duced flow rate. He’d have been paged if there were any
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problems, but nothing, in his experience, beat seeing for
himself.
He was surprised to see the woman sitting by the
crib, then pleased that Scarlett’s mother had managed
to get down to Sydney once again. She stood up as he
arrived, explaining that she’d been beside the baby all
afternoon and was going to get some sleep now but her
husband would be in to sit with Scarlett shortly.
‘You’ve managed to both get down, then?’ Theo
said, delighted for them and for the baby.
Mrs Robinson smiled.
‘Some wonderful person donated money through the
hospital social work department to pay a couple who do
relief work for farmers to stay on the farm. The wife—
we know her because she worked on the farm next
door—will look after the kids and her husband will keep
an eye on the stock. My mum’s there as well so she’s
overseeing things. As soon as we knew the couple were
coming we flew straight down—there was money for
our air fares and expenses as well. Wasn’t it fantastic?’
Theo agreed that it was indeed fantastic, but his at-
tention was focussed on the little baby who lay so still,
only partially conscious as she was sedated to prevent
movement so her little body wasn’t using any excess
energy. But when Theo bent over her crib, her eyes
were open, the dark opaque blue of newborns, and they
moved, seeming to focus on his face. He smiled at her
and said her name, quietly, aware she was too young to
recognise it, or faces, but needing the contact.
Her notes showed her oxygen values were good in
spite of the decreased flow, and, looking at her little
belly, it seemed less bloated.
MEREDITH WEBBER
73
‘Good girl,’ he told her. ‘You just hang in there and
we’ll get you a heart. Tomorrow you’ll have scans and
an ultrasound to make sure everything’s OK, but you’re
still on the list, poppet, thanks to Dr Sutherland.’
He sat down, thinking of Grace. Not about her re-
quest that he father her child—he’d already decided to
do that and, having decided, would go ahead in his own
way, certain to be pleasurable. But what he had to think
about was how Grace might react to his decision to take
an interest in the child.
From afar, of course…
Unemotionally…
Grace lay in bed, thinking of Theo Corones. More ac-
curately, thinking of Theo Corones’s kiss.
And the effect it had had on her body!
That his revisions meant he wanted her to conceive
her child the normal way she had no doubt, but although
he, being a man, could have sex with any woman to
whom he was attracted without becoming emotionally
involved, could she?
Could any woman?
She realised she couldn’t speak for other women, al-
though in this day and age she knew some women had
sex in the same way men did—for fun and pleasure and
with no emotional entanglements at all. So that wasn’t
the question. Her question was, could she? Not for fun
and pleasure, but for a baby.
Of course she could!
She had to!
And she turned her pillow over, seeking a cool spot
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on the pillow slip, and found herself thinking once
again of Theo’s kiss. And of how it had made her feel…
Up early the next day, she show
ered and prepared to
dress for work. Which was where her upbeat mood
faltered. For years she’d dressed in sensible shirts and
skirts or tailored trousers, promoting an image of
classic efficiency, but today her shirt seemed drab,
while her skirt made her look like an old maid.
‘You are an old maid!’ she reminded herself, frown-
ing at her image in the mirror.
‘But you needn’t look like a staid old maid,’ she
muttered, going back to her cupboard and looking
through the very sensible clothes she’d brought with her
to Australia. Practical clothes, work clothes—sensible…
‘What the hell is wrong with me? One kiss—well,
maybe more than one—a sensible discussion on pro-
creation, and I’m getting all het up over my wardrobe.’
But she pulled off the skirt and pulled on a pair of
black trousers, frowned at herself as they were evening
trousers. The white linen? Better than the black but
hardly practical for work. She sighed, returning to the
skirt—navy denim, eminently sensible, but perhaps if
she left open the top button of her white shirt she’d look
less…
Strait-laced?
Uptight?
She sighed again and pressed her fingers to her lips,
thinking again of Theo’s kisses and knowing they were
the last thing she should have been thinking about.
Downstairs she tapped on Jean-Luc’s door but he
MEREDITH WEBBER
75
must have departed while she had been struggling with
her clothing choices, so she walked up the road to the
hospital on her own, wondering if the queasy feeling
in her stomach when she thought about Theo was to do
with the practical issues of procreation or the way his
kisses made her feel.
He wasn’t with the group gathered for the ward
round—was she relieved or was the twinge she felt
regret?—but as today was an operating day she
imagined he’d be in Theatre, preparing his machine.
‘Right,’ Phil said cheerfully when the ward round
was finished. ‘My lot are starting in the cath lab, where
we’re going to do a balloon valvuplasty to open up the
pulmonic valve so young Brett Scott can get better
blood flow to his lungs. Grace, as we discussed yester-
day, you’re the main man and I’ll be explaining to the
students as we all watch the monitor.’
Grace followed Phil towards the small room used for
these procedures, wondering how the group of students
accompanying them would all fit in.