The Surgeon's Convenient Fiancée (Medical Romance) (16 page)

‘I understand,’ he said.

Sitting there beside her, so close, he looked so attractive. With his damp hair smoothed down, it accentuated the angular bone structure of his face and the sensual curve of his very masculine mouth, she thought when she glanced at him quickly and away again, not wanting him to see the vulnerability in her eyes, the longing for him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him smiling. I guess
I don’t fool him for a moment, she thought. He knows everything about me.

When he slipped the robe off one shoulder, to caress her skin with his warm fingers and his lips, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh, and she kept them closed when the robe came loose and she felt the cool air of the room on her skin. She held her breath as his hands smoothed over her shoulders, the sensation so exquisite that she thought she would faint. Automatically she reached for him, her arms going around his neck.

They both subsided sideways onto the bed in each other’s arms and Deirdre began to laugh. It was such a relief to find that she was not awkward with him. ‘This must be the breakfast that you promised me,’ she teased.

Shay smiled down at her, propped on one elbow so that he could lean over her. ‘Are you hungry? If you prefer toast,’ he said, smiling, ‘just say the word.’

She shook her head. ‘I am hungry, but I know I couldn’t eat anything. I…I’m too nervous.’

‘You don’t have to be nervous. Do you like
the smell of lavender?’ he asked softly, leaning over her, his lips inches away from hers.

‘Mmm. Love it.’

He reached for a small blue bottle on the bedside table. ‘I keep lavender oil here so that I can breathe in the scent of it when it seems that all the scents of the operating rooms are still in my nostrils,’ he said.

‘I wish I’d thought of that.’ She laughed.

She watched him while he poured some of the oil into the palm of his hand and then smoothed it over her shoulder. Her eyes closed of their own volition as the lovely, delicate scent of the lavender filled her nostrils and she felt herself relaxing. ‘Mmm…that’s wonderful,’ she murmured. When she was lying full length on the bed, he eased the robe from her. Moments later she felt Shay’s hands moving warmly, sensually over her back as she turned over onto her stomach, the lavender oil making her skin smooth and supple under his touch.

For a long time his hands moved over her, from her shoulders down over her hips, smoothing away her aches and tensions, kneading the muscles and stroking her skin
so that it felt like silk, while the scent surrounded her like a cocoon.

Gently he moved her over onto her back, moving his hands slickly over her breasts, very gently, barely touching her. ‘Oh, Shay…’ she whispered. His hands moved lower, over the delicate swell of her stomach. The scent felt like a drug in her nostrils. All that mattered was the delicate movement of his fingers on her skin.

He kissed her then, his lips moving caressingly on hers, the weight of his body coming down on hers as his hands caressed her. Languorously she put her arms round his neck, holding him against her. As he had said, she did not have to be nervous. A peace moved over her, a wonderful sense of being loved, albeit in the arms of a man who did not trust love, the ‘twenty-four-seven man’. At that moment he was very much with her, giving her his full attention. That was all that mattered. I love you, she wanted to say, but she kept silent. Sufficient unto the day…

‘Darling…love,’ he said. His arms wrapped round her, holding her to him.

With her eyes closed, she gave herself up to him.

T
HAT WAS HOW
it started, how Deirdre became Shay’s lover, entering a new stage in her life.

Later that day, after they had both slept, he returned to work and she went home to her parents’ house and prepared supper for Mungo and Fleur, inviting Fiona to have the meal with them, too.

‘I want to catch up on news,’ she said to Fiona on the telephone. ‘I feel I haven’t seen you all for ages, although it’s not really long. It’s strange, working through the night again.’

‘I’ll be there,’ Fiona said. ‘I spoke to my lawyer again today about giving you custody of the children, and he said again it would be better if you were married, and I told him that by the time I die you probably will be married, as I don’t intend to die just yet.’ Fiona laughed. ‘Although I know one of the poets said that man proposes, God disposes.’

‘That’s often the case,’ Deirdre agreed, feeling a familiar stab of anxiety about what would happen to the children if she did not get custody and Fiona became ill with a chronic illness. She would force herself to look on the bright side and hope for the best, as her mother would say. Somehow she wasn’t always very good at doing that. Perhaps she was too much of a realist.

‘The lawyer is also concerned that the man you marry might not want the children,’ Fiona went on. ‘Is there anyone, Deirdre, whom you want to marry? Someone you haven’t told me about?’

‘Well,’ she began, blushing deeply, glad that Fiona could not see her, ‘there is a doctor at the hospital—the kids have met him—whom I really like. He’s divorced and, unfortunately, marriage isn’t a top priority for him. He’s told me that he doesn’t trust love. Those were his words.’

‘Well, dear, you will have to show him otherwise,’ Fiona said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world. ‘When can I meet this man? I might be able to drop a few very subtle hints.’

‘We could all have dinner together soon,’ Deirdre said. ‘But, please, don’t drop any hints, because they might backfire. He has a son, about the age of Mungo, give or take a few months. He’s a good father, from what I’ve seen, and he’s good with Mungo and Fleur.’

‘He’s the one you spent Boxing Day with? I remember now.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Better and better,’ Fiona said.

‘Please, don’t…er…’

‘Put my foot in it? I know, dear,’ Fiona said. ‘I can be very tactful and subtle when I have to be, don’t you worry. See you this evening.’

After her conversation with Fiona, Deirdre called Mungo and told him of their plans. He always switched on his mobile phone between classes. That night she would have supper at home and sleep in her own bed, and they would be in the house with her. ‘I’ll pick you up from school,’ she told Mungo. ‘Usual place.’

‘OK,’ Mungo said. ‘We’ve missed you, Dee.’

‘I’ve missed you, too.’

Today she felt different. This was the first day of her life after becoming Shay’s lover. Unreservedly, it was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she could not get him out of her mind. Already they were planning when they could be together again. Every moment she longed for his company. Being in love was an obsession. What they had shared was a passion that had increased her love to such a point that she felt she could not live without him. Indeed, it was a kind of madness and she knew that she must try to put it into perspective. Maybe this was the very thing that he did not trust. For that reason, she was not about to tell him how she felt.

At the moment she was superbly happy, obsessed by him. ‘I’d be lying if I said I could offer you a future,’ he had said. It was necessary for her to keep that in mind, as well as to remind herself that it had not been very long ago that she had sat on a bus, overcome by depression. That brought the feeling that she must not run before she could walk, yet the desire to be with Shay was overwhelming her.

It would be good to have a family dinner with the kids and Fiona. She went into the kitchen to get ready for it. Tonight she was off duty and someone else would do the night shift to replace the sick nurses, then, if she was still needed, she would work on Wednesday night. The head nurse would call her in plenty of time, so that she could plan her life.

Fiona arrived not long after Deirdre had brought the children home from school.

‘I want to help you prepare the food, dear,’ she said. ‘And I want to hear all about your job.’

‘All right,’ Deirdre said, preceding her into the kitchen. ‘I’ve done most of the preparation, but you can help me serve.’

After the main course, when they were on dessert—a chocolate cake that she had made herself—the doorbell rang.

‘Shall I go?’ Mungo offered, rising to his feet. ‘I’m good at getting rid of canvassers and people trying to sell things. I tell them that my parents are out and I don’t have any money.’

‘All right,’ Deirdre said.

Moments later they heard conversation and
laughter coming from the front hall. ‘Hey, guess what?’ Mungo said, coming back into the dining room, grinning from ear to ear. ‘It’s Dr Melburne and Mark. They were just passing and thought they would say hello. Shall I invite them in for dessert, Dee? There’s lots of chocolate cake left.’

Deirdre rose to her feet, momentarily flustered. ‘Yes…’ she said. ‘Yes.’

‘Oh, that’s great!’ Fleur chipped in. ‘I’ll get some extra plates. And shall I put the kettle on for coffee?’

‘Yes,’ Deirdre said, bemused and somewhat agitated. ‘Bring in the cups and saucers, Fleur, please.’

Fiona rose to her feet as well, giving Deirdre a meaningful look. ‘Is this the one?’ She mouthed the words in an exaggerated fashion, so that Deirdre felt a desire to laugh as happiness swamped her again.

‘Mmm,’ she said.

Fiona appeared to gird herself up mentally, and Deirdre wanted to laugh hysterically because Fiona looked deceptively fragile, with her white hair, blue eyes and skin like old apples. Dressed elegantly in a long wool skirt
and a cashmere sweater in a light lavender colour, with a string of pearls around her neck, she looked every inch a grand old lady, her fingers laden with precious rings—her weakness. ‘Well, I’m so lucky to get to meet him so soon,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Oh, no, don’t—’ Deirdre began, then was silenced by the appearance of Shay and Mark at the door of the dining room, being ushered in by the delighted Mungo. Mark was also grinning, so that Deirdre wondered if he had instigated the visit rather than his father. No matter, it was wonderful to see them.

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Have some cake and coffee with us. It’s good to see you.’

‘Thank you,’ Shay said. ‘I hope we’re not intruding. This was Mark’s idea.’

‘No, you’re not intruding,’ she said, flushing, wondering if there were vibes from her so that the others could tell how she felt about Shay. ‘Shay and Mark, this is Fiona McGregor, my employer and the children’s grandmother.’

There were smiles and handshakes.

Fleur came in with some cups on a tray,
wobbling it slightly. ‘Hi, Mark,’ she said. ‘Great to see you. Come and have some chocolate cake.’

Fiona went to the kitchen to make coffee while the others sat down at the table. Soon the children were talking about what they were doing at school. Shay smiled at Deirdre, a look that made her heart feel as though it were turning over.

‘And where did you meet Deirdre?’ Fiona said innocently to Shay, when she was back at the table with a silver coffee-pot full of hot coffee that gave off a very appetizing aroma. Presiding over the table, she poured the liquid into cups.

‘That’s a long and complicated story,’ Shay said, and then Deirdre knew that he could keep a confidence and had no intention of divulging anything to Fiona, as obviously she, Deirdre, would have told her herself by now. That seemed to be his reasoning, Deirdre thought.

‘We met at the Stanton Memorial Hospital,’ Deirdre said, which was true after all.

‘That’s rather mundane,’ Fiona said airily,
‘but it means that you have a shared interest. Coffee, Dr…er…Melburne?’

‘Yes, please. And call me Shay, please.’

‘That’s an unusual Gaelic name,’ Fiona said. ‘It goes well with Deirdre and Fiona.’

‘Fiona…“fair one”,’ Shay said.

‘Appropriate once upon a time,’ Fiona said, and Deirdre could see that she was charmed by Shay, while making an effort to be sharp, to suss him out.

‘You must be curious to know all about me,’ he said, disarming Fiona right away.

‘Well…’ Fiona said, laughing, ‘Deirdre is like a daughter to me, as well as a very valuable employee and mother to my grandchildren, so I like to know who has an interest in her, you might say—just in case someone was planning to take her away from me, or something like that.’

Deirdre felt her face turn hot and she wondered if she could make an excuse to leave the table for a few minutes. The three children were sitting at one end of the table, their heads together, spooning forkfuls of cake into their mouths while talking at the same time.

‘More cake?’ she said to Shay.

‘I haven’t had any yet,’ he said. ‘I will have some.’

She half rose and cut him a generous slice, taking her time to put it on a plate.

‘You are right to be anxious,’ Shay said slowly to Fiona, fixing her with a speculative stare. ‘She is a very lovely and unusual young woman. She’s just waiting to be plucked, you might say.’

Mungo and Fleur, who had been pretending not to be listening, turned to stare at Shay, their eyes going to Deirdre and Fiona as well.

‘It’s all right,’ Deirdre said to them, laughing, while her face felt hotter, ‘I’m not about to be plucked like a ripe plum off a tree. More cake, kids?’

‘Yes, please,’ Mark said, tactfully rescuing her. ‘Could we take it into the sitting room, Deirdre?’

‘Sure,’ she said.

‘What’s this about plucking?’ Fiona said when they had gone, getting straight to the point.

‘Just a manner of speaking,’ Shay said smoothly. ‘One day she will be gone. It’s
human nature.’ He was smiling, and they smiled back.

Deirdre could see that it took Fiona a great effort not to ask him point-blank if he was intending that himself. Instead, she reached forward and replenished his coffee.

‘Thanks. I’m an average sort of guy,’ he said to Fiona, ‘with no very obvious vices, except the one of working too much, although I’m better where that’s concerned than I used to be.’

‘Why?’ Fiona said.

‘Divorce,’ he said.

‘Oh. That’s a good reason to change. Although it is rather too late.’

When Fiona went out to get more coffee and the two of them were alone, there was a tension between them that was almost tangible, and when Shay put his hand over hers as it rested on the tablecloth, she felt his touch suffuse her with an unbearable longing. The warmth of his hand tingled through her. ‘Could I come back later,’ he said quietly, ‘to be with you for a while? I want to be with you so much. Is that possible? After the kids have gone to bed? For an hour or two.’