Surgeon in a Wedding Dress

Those firm, gently probing fingers on Starnes’s scalp tantalised her. What would they be like on her skin, stroking, teasing, racking up the tension? ‘Damn.’ She started counting again.

Dan glanced at Sarah as he worked. ‘The sooner we get this man to hospital where he can see his boy, the better. I know that’s what I’d want if I’d been thinking the worst.’

Sarah’s heart squeezed. No parent wanted to outlive their child. As hers had done. ‘The downside of being a parent.’

She hadn’t realised she’d spoken aloud until Dan said, ‘Children cause a lot of worry and heartache, that’s for sure. Have you got any?’

‘No.’

‘I guess now’s not the time to ask why not.’

There’d never be a right time. ‘Resps slightly slow.’

‘Temperature?’ Dan asked. At least he could take a hint.

Sarah looked around for Jill. ‘You wouldn’t have a thermometer?’

‘Coming up.’ Jill was already halfway out the room.

‘Finding anything?’ Dan asked Sarah as she palpated Starnes’s stomach and liver.

She shook her head. ‘These two should buy a lottery ticket.’

‘We’re certainly not giving you time to settle in quietly, are we?’ Dan looked at her for a moment.

No, and being so close to him, breathing his very maleness, added to the sense of walking a swaying tightrope. ‘Guess I’ll manage,’ she muttered, not sure whether she meant the patients or Dan.

Someone handed them hot-water bottles, Sarah reaching for them at the same moment as Dan. Their hands touched, fingers curled around each other’s before they could untwine themselves. ‘S-sorry.’ Sarah snatched her hand back.

‘No problem,’ snapped Dan, his eyes wide and his face still.

Sarah cringed. Did he think she’d done that on purpose? Surely not? She couldn’t deny her attraction for him, but to deliberately grab his hand when she hardly knew him was not her style. Knowing that to say anything in her defence would only make the situation worse, she kept quiet, and again reached for the bottles, making sure to keep well away from Dan.

She placed the bottles in Starnes’s armpits and around his groin to maximise his potential for absorbing the warmth.

‘The left ankle is swollen, possibly sprained,’ Sarah pointed.

‘My thoughts exactly.’

‘Will we—I—be required to go into theatre if surgery’s needed?’ Sarah almost hoped not. She was tired and hungry, not in good shape to be operating.

Dan sat back on his haunches and those piercing eyes clashed with hers. ‘You don’t officially start until tomorrow so if someone’s needed I’ll do it.’

Why? She’d come for one reason only, and he was holding her back. As her blood started heating up and her tongue forming a sharp reply, he continued, ‘You’ll want to unpack and settle in at the house. Alison should manage unless she’s got another emergency.’

Sarah eased off on her annoyance. How could she stay mad when those eyes bored into her like hot summer rays? ‘As long as you know I’m happy to assist if needed.’

A blast of cold air announced the arrival of the ambulance crew. ‘Hi, there, again.’ Kerry hunkered down beside Dan. ‘What’ve we got this time?’

While Dan relayed the details Sarah stood and stretched her calf muscles, arching her back and pulling her shoulders taut. Dan’s gaze followed her movements as he talked to the paramedic, sending a thrill through her. Those eyes seemed to cruise over her, as though they could see right through her to things she never told anyone. Which was plain crazy. How could this man, a stranger really, see through her façade? See beyond the clothes to her soul? He couldn’t. Could he?

‘Here …’ Jill waved across the punters’ heads. ‘Sandwiches and a coffee. Or would you like something stronger?’

‘Coffee’s fine.’ Grateful for the food, Sarah swallowed her disappointment at the mug of murky instant coffee being slid across the counter towards her. ‘Do you still need a hand in the kitchen?’

‘I’ve got it covered. Bea arrived while you were in the shower, and she’s happy as a kid in a sandpit out there cooking up fries.’

‘Bea?’

‘Dan’s sister.’

‘Is everyone around here related to him?’ Biting into a thick sandwich filled with ham and tomato, Sarah told her stomach to be patient, sustenance was on the way down.

‘Not quite.’ Dan sent Jill a silent message before turning to Sarah. ‘You want to share those?’ He nodded at the sandwiches.

Not really. She could eat the lot. ‘Sure.’ Sarah prodded the plate along the counter towards him, wondering what he hadn’t wanted Jill to mention in front of her. ‘So you come from a big family.’

‘Yep, and they’re quite useful at times.’

‘What he means is we all run round after him most of the time.’ Jill winked at Sarah.

They needn’t think she’d play that game. She’d come to run his clinic, nothing else. ‘How far from here is the house I’m staying in? I’ve got some directions but it’s probably quicker if you tell me.’

Wariness filtered into Dan’s eyes. ‘You can follow me shortly.’

‘I’d really like to go now.’

‘Soon.’ Then suddenly his eyes twinkled and he waved at someone behind her. ‘Sweetheart, there you are.’

Disappointment jolted Sarah. Of course Dan would have a wife. No man as good looking as this one would be single. Turning to see who he was smiling at, her heart slowed and a lump blocked her throat. The most gorgeous little girl bounded past her, her arms flung high and wide as she reached Dan.

‘Daddy, there you are. Auntie Bea brought me here. She made me some fries.’

‘Hi, sweetheart. Guess you won’t be needing dinner now.’ Dan scooped the pink and yellow bundle up and sat her on his knee.

‘You’re late, Daddy.’

‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ The man looked unhappy, as though he’d slipped up somehow. ‘I had to help Uncle Malcolm.’

Sarah stared at father and daughter. Their eyes were the same shade of blue. They had identical wide, full mouths, the only difference being the little girl’s was one big smile while Dan’s rarely got past a scowl. Except now, with his daughter in his arms. The lump blocking Sarah’s throat slowly evaporated, her heart resumed its normal rhythm. But she melted inside, watching the child.

Since when did children do that to her? Since her wrecked marriage plans had stolen her dream of having a family. Why hadn’t Oliver taken that test for the cystic fibrosis gene as he’d promised to do when she’d first told him she was a carrier? Had he been afraid he might find he was imperfect? Did the idea that they might have to decide whether to have children or not if he’d tested positive prove too hard to face? Whatever the answers, he could’ve talked to her, not gone off and played around behind her back.

‘Hello.’

Sarah blinked, looked around, caught the eye of Dan, and, remembering where she was, immediately shoved the past aside. ‘Hi.’

The child wriggled around on Dan’s knee until she was staring at Sarah. ‘Are you the lady who’s coming to stay with us?’