A Surgeon for the Single Mom

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A Surgeon for the Single Mom Page 4

by Charlotte Hawkes


  For the last thirteen years it had been just her and Nell. Together. She was ashamed that a part of her should want to pretend otherwise, even for a few hours.

  ‘Yes, it does matter.’ She nodded. It was now or never. ‘To me. And to my daughter.’

  Silence dropped between them like the thick, heavy curtain on a stage, separating the players from the audience. Her from Tak. What on earth had possessed her to say anything? Was it simply because Tak reminded her of a woman who was long gone?

  ‘You have a daughter?’

  His voice was even, just as before. Perhaps the silence had only been in her own head.

  ‘Nell. Short for Eleanor. She’s thirteen.’

  ‘Thirteen? You must have been...’

  ‘Just turned eighteen.’ She didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Yeah, you don’t have to do the maths. I’ve lived it. Now you know why I don’t date. Why I won’t date.’

  Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t the words which came next. Or the soft, almost melancholy tone.

  ‘Difficult age, thirteen. I imagine she hasn’t taken kindly to the move?’

  She floundered. ‘Um...no. Not really.’

  ‘She’s acting out?’

  It was less of a question, more of a statement. As though he knew. And there was something else, too. Effie couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but if she’d had to hazard a guess she might have thought that he didn’t like the fact that he knew. That he felt it was a connection between them which he didn’t want to feel.

  Hadn’t Hetti once told her that Tak had spent much of his childhood taking care of his younger siblings—not just the usual big-brother-as-playground-protector stuff, but all the tasks that a parent would ordinarily do? If that was true then it had to be hard for him to shake that responsibility, even now they were all grown up.

  It was certainly hard for herself, trying to let go of the past. Trying not to let it cloud the way she dealt with Nell. Trying not to let her own life experiences turn her into an over-protective mother. But maybe she was just imagining it. Either way, it was all she could do not to nod in agreement and wonder...

  ‘What makes you say that?’ she asked.

  ‘Because you were agitated when I met you in the lobby. Like you’d had a run-in with someone. I assumed it was the teenage lads I saw hanging around outside.’

  ‘Those lads are fine. And the place isn’t that bad. It’s a desirable city-centre location. Besides, it’s the closest thing I could find to Nell’s new school on such short notice.’

  ‘Desirable is a matter of opinion,’ he disputed. ‘So the run-in was with someone else? I’m thinking it was with your daughter. Nell. Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Nope.’ But she couldn’t fault him for being astute. It was impressive, really.

  ‘It might help.’

  She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. Surely she shouldn’t be discussing this with him, an almost stranger? Effie wanted to shut the conversation down, but found that she couldn’t. There was something about Tak, about those broad shoulders, which suddenly made her think how nice it would be to get another perspective and some adult support.

  She did, however, find herself tugging on a stray thread from her clutch bag. A habit she’d formed decades ago, when she was anxious and unhappy. Or feeling cornered.

  ‘I don’t see why I would talk about it,’ she managed stiffly.

  ‘Because everyone needs to talk sometimes.’

  She might have believed him if she hadn’t caught the flash of irritation in his expression. However fleeting it had been.

  Being a foster kid had made her sensitive—some might argue over-sensitive—to when people were asking questions out of a sense of obligation rather than any actual desire to hear the answer.

  What she didn’t understand was why she wasn’t consequently shutting the conversation down with her usual practised efficiency. Why any part of her was actually considering opening up to Tak Basu, of all people. It was madness.

  ‘Who says I don’t already have someone to talk to?’ She twisted her mouth before catching herself. ‘If I need to, that is.’

  ‘Maybe you do.’ He shrugged. ‘But I think you’re too pent-up...too defensive. As though you’re trying to deal with too much all by yourself. A teenage girl comes complete with a wealth of complications. Trust me—I know.’

  For a moment his eyes met hers, deep brown and filled with understanding, as if they were stealing her very soul. And it hurt simply to breathe.

  Effie didn’t understand what was happening. Not inside this car, and certainly not inside her. She had the oddest sense of...connection. As if something was binding them and she didn’t understand what it was.

  Then the vehicle stopped, and she realised they had arrived at the gala. Plastering a bright smile on her lips, she tore her gaze away and injected an upbeat note into her voice. ‘We’re here—shall we go in?’

  He didn’t answer straight away, and the moment stretched out tautly between them until he finally inclined his head. ‘As you wish.’

  And as the driver opened their doors to let them out Effie told herself that she was relieved.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  TAK WAS GRATEFUL to be released from that endless icy blue gaze of hers. The one which was flecked with shards of gold. The one which shot right through him to the deepest caverns of his chest, expanding and shattering all that it touched.

  At least he told himself that he was grateful. He was pretty sure that what he actually felt was a damn sight closer to disappointed. Yet that made no sense at all.

  Moving around the vehicle to walk Effie up the steps and into the imposing, architecturally spectacular old building, he couldn’t help himself placing his hand at the small of her back, and the jolt of awareness at the contact both took him by surprise and, simultaneously, did not.

  It was a long, long time since any woman had sneaked under his skin the way this woman had. If ever. It was rather extraordinary. It made a part of him want to whisk her away from here, from these people and the crowds, and take her somewhere quiet where he might actually be able to talk to her. One on one.

  A preposterous notion.

  The problem was that he’d been entirely floored by her the moment he’d walked into that grotty lobby and seen her standing there, so startlingly beautiful, so elegant, looking so wholly incongruous to her surroundings.

  He’d wanted to pick her up and carry her out of there, if only so that her feet didn’t have to tread a single step on that filthy stone floor. If there had been a puddle he might even have thrown down his cloak, or at least his jacket.

  Then again, if he’d picked her up, taken her in his arms, he might have been in even more trouble than he was in now. Because if simply looking at that tantalising body was having such an effect on him, then what might touching it actually do?

  That orange flight suit hadn’t even hinted at the glorious figure now poured into a dress which looked as though it had been hand-crafted just for Effie. All soft, lush, feminine curves, deliciously naughty, which drew the eye and yet had the brain filling in the gaps for all the other senses.

  God, how he wanted to see what that body was like beneath those clothes. Feel it pressed against his. Lick every last inch of it...

  Tak came back to his senses with a rude crash. What was he thinking? This wasn’t even a real date—it certainly wasn’t going to end up like that. Wasn’t that the whole point of them coming here together? To avoid such complications?

  Whatever was going on here wasn’t in the script. It hadn’t been in the plan. The sooner he got tonight over with and took this bewitching woman back home, the better. In fact he should start by finding Hetti—after all, wasn’t she the one who had asked him to bring Effie here?

  So why, instead, did
he find himself guiding her inside? Find his hand moving from a light touch on her back to something arguably more possessive in sliding around to her waist to draw her in closer as several male colleagues made no attempt to conceal their envy? And why did a sense of triumph pound through him when Effie seemed to lean in to him that little bit closer, as if seeking his protection?

  Unexpectedly, a couple of women caught his arm on the way in, flirting with him without a single glance at the woman who had come in on his arm, and Effie disengaged herself lightly, discreetly, in order to step ahead.

  His head was still stuck back in his earlier conversation with her, and he let her go. It hit him several seconds later, when it felt altogether too much like a loss. Suddenly Tak found himself quickening his pace just to catch up with her.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  She blinked, as though she wasn’t quite sure of herself. ‘Giving you space.’

  Something moved through him. Something hot and frustrated. Like temper, only not quite. ‘Do I need to remind you that the whole idea of us coming together was to be each other’s buffer?’

  ‘I know that.’ She tried to sound indignant, but couldn’t disguise the catch in her voice. ‘But you didn’t seem to want a buffer from those women.’

  Was she jealous? He was unreasonably glad.

  ‘I disagree. Giving me space rather defeats the purpose, wouldn’t you say?’

  She looked at him, and there was something too bright, too electric for comfort in her gaze.

  ‘So we’re really doing this?’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Pretending to be a couple?’ Her voice faltered. ‘Not just arriving together but...being together?’

  It hadn’t been his original intention. Had it?

  ‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ he said.

  She swallowed, but he could read women well enough to know it wasn’t out of any kind of sense of feeling intimidated. She was fighting this attraction just as he was. She wanted him.

  The knowledge shot through to Tak’s very core.

  Another group of women appeared without warning. ‘Show-time,’ he muttered, too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Let’s make it a good one. Can you do that?’

  She scowled at him, which did nothing at all to lessen her beauty, then tipped her chin upwards. ‘Of course I can,’ she declared. ‘I can play any game just as well as you can.’

  He stamped out the voice in his head telling him he wished it wasn’t quite such a game and led her into the crowd.

  It turned out that Effie could indeed play any game as well as he could, Tak was forced to acknowledge several hours later. Perhaps even better.

  She had charmed everyone to whom he’d introduced her. More like the bold, confident doctor he’d watched in action than the nervous, self-conscious woman who had been standing in that apartment lobby tonight, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

  All evening he’d watched her smile and chat and laugh, so skilful that she had befriended the women whilst simultaneously captivating the men. It was a completely different side to her from the professional, even standoffish, air ambulance doctor he had seen a few days ago. Who cared for her patients but who had no time whatsoever for the flirtations of her eager colleagues.

  Now she was gracious and sweet, even coquettish, and as far as anyone was concerned very much his. She had leaned into him, her fingertips brushing his arm, her fringe skimming his chin, with that flirty little laugh floating around the two of them had almost bound them, despite the rest of the crowd in the room.

  No wonder she had fooled the other guests perfectly, even better than he could have imagined she would. Because at times she had nearly fooled him. He, Tak Basu, had found himself caught up in the moment, caught up in her, scowling at any other man who might get a bit too close, whose hand might linger on Effie’s that fraction too long. As if he was feeling jealous. Possessive. When the entire world knew that wasn’t him.

  He should move away. Re-establish a few boundaries. Instead he found himself bending down until his mouth was by her ear, far closer than it had any need to be. ‘There’s still a few minutes on the silent auction,’ he murmured, revelling in the way her skin instantly goosebumped. ‘Shall we take a punt together?’

  Obediently she moved with him in one single direction-change. ‘I thought you’d already made your bids? Quite a few of them, if I recall correctly.’

  ‘I did,’ he returned smoothly. ‘The Grand Master golf experience is for Rafi, the balloon ride for Hetti and the chocolatier master class for Sasha. Plus I always enjoy a race day. But I didn’t bid on anything which might be considered remotely romantic. The Parisian weekend for two, for instance...’

  He shouldn’t celebrate the way her eyes dilated, nor the way her nostrils gave a tiny flare. And he certainly shouldn’t exult in the resultant shallow, squally breaths.

  ‘It’s a fake date,’ she managed.

  ‘Indeed it is. But no one here knows that. It’s been quite an impressive performance you’ve managed this evening...’ His voice was far softer than he’d intended, and he watched as she struggled to compose herself.

  ‘I could argue that your performance was even more outstanding.’

  ‘I make a point of ensuring all my performances are outstanding.’

  ‘We... I mean, I... That is...you...’ Effie stumbled, a delectable crimson blush staining her cheeks.

  This reversion to her more prim side was a welcome step away from her flirtatiousness. Why was it that he couldn’t get enough of the overly demure, innocent side of Effie?

  ‘I apologise.’ He grinned and let her off the hook. ‘That was uncalled-for. Now, what about that weekend for two?’

  She cleared her throat delicately. Once. Twice. ‘Say all of your bids turn out to be the highest?’

  ‘Then I go home a very successful man.’

  He couldn’t have said what had changed in her expression but he noticed it. Just as he noticed the way she began absently pulling at a loose thread on her clutch.

  ‘That’s got to be an obscene amount of money.’

  Tak balked at the edge in her voice. His tone when he answered was harsher than he had intended. ‘When was the last time you and Nell went abroad?’

  ‘Nell’s going skiing in a few weeks.’

  He didn’t miss the dark shadows dulling her blue eyes, for a moment turning them almost grey.

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Humour me.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you ever been abroad?’ He had no idea what made him ask the question. It wasn’t as though he knew the first thing about this relative stranger.

  She chewed on her lip, her discomfort undeniable.

  ‘I was a junior doctor and a single mother with a young kid.’

  His voice softened of its own volition. ‘I’ll take that as a no.’

  She glowered at him, but still said nothing. And, as with all the little nuggets he’d been pretending he hadn’t been filing away all evening, he slotted that new piece of information into his mental picture of Dr Effie Robinson.

  The real Effie. Not the one she presented to the world.

  ‘Listen, it’s no big deal. It’s just for charity.’

  ‘Yes...still—’ She stopped abruptly.

  The slight tic in her jaw betrayed how tightly her teeth were clenched. As though the more he dismissed it as nothing, the more it riled her.

  ‘Just forget it, Tak.’

  And he might have forgotten it. Or he might have defused the situation with his usual ease. But instead Tak found himself focussing on the hostility of her tone. More than that, welcoming it.

  Because if she was being judgemental then here, finally, was something which knocked her off the virtual
pedestal upon which he couldn’t even remember putting her. He could shake off this inexplicable attraction which snaked constantly between them.

  Tonight was about making other people wonder about him and Effie and if they were in a relationship. It wasn’t about making himself wonder what it would be like to be in a relationship with the woman. It made no sense.

  He barely contained a harrumph of displeasure. Even if a part of him was attracted to her, there was still no way he was going to go there. She had a daughter. Responsibilities. Something told him that she wasn’t the kind of woman to be interested in a one-night stand. By contrast, he’d lost his entire childhood by taking responsibility for his siblings and it had put him off marriage and children for life. So the last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman who came complete with a ready-made family.

  Which begged the question as to why he was intrigued by the woman standing so straight-backed in front of him at this instant. He used it to prod Effie and rile her all the more. ‘You resent me doing it because the more obscene the amount of money I spend, the more it draws attention to us.’

  ‘No, it isn’t... Well, it doesn’t...’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Like I said, forget it.’

  ‘Isn’t that why you agreed to this charade? Because you knew dating...?’

  ‘Fake dating,’ she interjected.

  Her teeth were gritted so tightly he was sure her jaw had to be in pain. So what made him flash his most wolfish smile?

  ‘All right.’ He inclined his head as if amused, though they both heard the sharp edge to his words. ‘You knew that by fake dating someone as high-profile as me that word would get around the hospital faster than a superbug.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘No buts.’ He cut her off. ‘Part of my high-profile status is down to my wealth. But you already knew that—so why is it suddenly so distasteful to you?’

  ‘It isn’t.’

  She pursed her lips and he didn’t doubt that she was holding back, biting down the words she desperately wanted to say. He couldn’t have said why that got to him the way that it did.

 

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