The Heart Surgeon's Baby Surprise

by Meredith Webber

  ‘If we get hungry later, surely we can order in?’ she

  whispered, still against his mouth, kissing him until

  she felt him respond and his hands lifted to her shoul-

  ders so he could hold her steady while his kiss grew

  fiercer and more demanding.

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  But once inside, ushered up the stairs to a bedroom

  that held a bed the size of a swimming pool and very

  little else, all Grace’s doubts and inhibitions came

  clumping down on her head and she looked around,

  probably too wildly, thinking of escape.

  ‘Stop that!’ Theo ordered, coming up behind her and

  clamping his arms around her, bending his head to kiss

  her neck where the collar of her shirt left a bit of skin

  showing. ‘Stop thinking at all and give yourself up to

  sensation. Remember how you felt earlier when the

  signals between us were so strong it’s a wonder the

  PICU didn’t get an R rating.’

  And while still nibbling at her neck—delicious

  thrills stole from there to her thighs, via her nipples—

  he undid the buttons on her shirt, easing it open so his

  hands could grasp her breasts which seemed to have

  grown heavy while her nipples were peaking and

  rubbing irritably against the lace of her bra.

  ‘Delicious,’ he murmured. ‘Delectable Grace!’

  And though she still felt awkward and not a little

  afraid, she found herself relaxing back against him,

  trying to ignore the sensations his hands were causing

  as they ran lightly back and forth across her breasts.

  Theo held the woman who’d inadvertently—surely

  not deliberately—plunged him back into a black mood

  and, holding her, he found himself relaxing, though not

  totally relaxing, for sexual excitement was building,

  hard and hot, so he had to remind himself of her pre-

  vious bad experience, swearing to himself this would

  be better for her—that he would think of her first…

  ‘Can we go to bed?’ she whispered, pressing back

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  against him. The hardness and heat intensified to the

  extent he all but forgot the ‘think of her first’ scenario.

  Turning her, he stripped off her shirt, then her bra,

  and, seeing the full orbs of her breasts, the nipples pale

  pink and peaked enticingly he forgot about it altogether

  and suckled first one breast then the other, murmuring

  about their beauty, his hands holding her still, although

  she squirmed and bucked in reaction to his attention.

  Finally she grabbed his head and pushed him away,

  no words spoken as they both stripped off their clothes

  and, locked together in their first naked kiss, collapsed

  onto the bed.

  She was beautiful. Full and firm, not just her breasts,

  but all over, her tummy slightly rounded, her hips beau-

  tifully fleshed, her legs, her thighs…

  ‘You are so beautiful.’

  He had to tell her—he couldn’t keep his observa-

  tions to himself—and then he watched as she coloured

  deliciously, the blush rising from her upper chest to dust

  her cheeks with dusky rose colour.

  Did he mean it or was he just saying it? Grace de-

  cided she didn’t care. She felt beautiful, and not only

  because of Theo’s words but because of the way he was

  touching her, loving her with his fingers and his lips.

  She wanted, so badly, to love him in the same way,

  wanted to touch him and learn about him through the

  touch of her fingers and her lips, but she was too shy.

  Repressed!

  The hateful word came back to her—a word Paul

  had spat at her one day—then as if he’d felt her mood

  change, Theo was kissing her again, murmuring about

  her beauty, urging her to touch him as he touched her,

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  and slowly, tentatively, she ran her hands across his

  skin, surprised to find how satiny the texture was, how

  smooth, how satisfying just to touch.

  ‘Try lower,’ he whispered, and as his hand slid be-

  tween her thighs and his fingers brushed lightly against

  her sensitive nub, she reached for him and found him

  hard and ready, and suddenly she wanted him, right

  here and now, her desire so intense she was shaking.

  ‘Please, Theo!’ She was begging and he heard it, for

  although he protested that he’d wanted to take it

  slowly—for their first time together to be special—he

  slid his fingers into her and must have felt her readiness,

  moving so he lay between her legs, rising above her,

  then sliding into her, both of them releasing huge sighs

  of what sounded like relief before the rhythm of love-

  making took hold of them and they were lost in the

  momentum that grew and grew until she gave a gasp of

  pure surprise and was lifted high above the world into

  a place she’d never been before.

  She was vaguely aware of Theo’s groan of release,

  then he slumped on top of her and she held him tightly,

  wanting his weight to anchor her, to return her to the

  bed—to life!

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHE stayed the night although even as she drifted off to

  sleep, after making love a second and even more satis-

  fying time, she knew she should go back to her flat.

  Otherwise she’d have to wake up early in the morning,

  get a cab home so she could change for work. She

  wouldn’t want to wake Theo to ask him to take her

  because theirs was a practical arrangement and he was

  already doing so much for her in helping her get

  pregnant. Or he would be, she hoped, eventually!

  Not to mention showing her how pleasurable making

  love could be.

  She sighed. They’d used protection but, remember-

  ing the obvious agony Theo still felt over the loss of his

  daughter, should she really be expecting him to help her

  have a child?

  Could a man who felt so deeply not get emotionally

  involved with his own child?

  Was she asking too much of him?

  She sighed again and discarded difficult thoughts, re-

  membering pleasure instead, snuggling up against his

  warm body, glad he was deeply asleep so he wouldn’t

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  realise how feeble she was being, needing reassurance

  from the closeness of his body.

  ‘Coffee, sleeping beauty!’

  He was standing over her, fully dressed but no less

  gorgeous for the fact he had clothes on.

  She tried to regrow her brain, which had apparently

  dwindled into nothingness overnight. Checking her

  watch seemed like a good idea—it would stop her star-

  ing at him, and probably smiling stupidly!

  ‘Oh, Theo, look at the time.’ Now she was wail-

  ing—her brain had certainly disappeared. ‘I’ll never

  get home in time to change—I’ll be late for work. Oh,

  Theo!’

  He grinned at her.
>
  ‘And to think I thought I’d never see you flustered,’

  he said, then he leant forward and kissed her on the lips.

  Quickly she backed away, putting her hand to her

  mouth.

  ‘Don’t! I must have dragon breath.’ But although

  she’d protested, she was inordinately pleased by the

  gesture—which was more proof that she’d lost her

  brain.

  Now he sat down on the bed beside her.

  ‘Sweet breath,’ he said. ‘Now, drink your coffee.

  I’ve raisin toast or croissants downstairs if that will do

  you for breakfast, and if you look in the bathroom

  you’ll find a pristine pair of my jockey shorts, still in

  the packet.’

  His grin widened.

  ‘Think of the fun I’ll have all day, imagining you in

  my undies!’

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  ‘But I’ll still have to wear the clothes I wore yester-

  day—what will people think?’

  This smile was different. It was kind and gentle and

  so sweet she wanted to kiss him—only she now knew

  just how dangerous kissing Theo could be.

  ‘You wear a coat over your clothes so, really, who

  will notice?’ He paused, the smile giving way to an

  intent look she couldn’t really read. ‘And if they did,

  would it matter?’

  She stared at him, aware she hadn’t thought this

  through. She’d just spent the night with another member

  of the team. She wanted to keep seeing this man, and she

  wasn’t entirely sure it was anything to do with procrea-

  tion. No, that was wrong, wanting to see him again had

  nothing to do with procreation. Although she did want a

  baby, she just had to think more about Theo’s side of

  things.

  The thoughts jumbled through the space in her head

  where her brain had been, pushing at each other, leaving

  her so confused she lifted the cup of coffee and brought

  it to her lips.

  ‘No one’s ever brought me coffee in bed before.’

  Duh! What a stupid thing to say!

  Now doubly embarrassed—by this admission as well

  as by the intimacy that seemed to have developed between

  them—she gulped down the rapidly cooling liquid.

  ‘I’d better have a shower,’ she added, as she replaced

  the cup on its saucer, then she realised she was sitting

  up in his bed, stark naked, and would be even more

  naked, somehow, as she made her way to the bathroom.

  Theo must have seen her concern for he leaned over

  and kissed her once again.

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  ‘Coffee breath now, and you’re beautiful. You should

  never feel shame about being naked in front of me, or

  any man.’

  He’d added the last bit because she was so darned

  insecure, but as he said it Theo felt a definite twinge of

  what could only be jealousy. This might be a ‘no emo-

  tional attachment’ type of relationship but he certainly

  didn’t want her parading around naked in front of any

  other men. In fact, he was probably going to have to talk

  to her about coming out of the shower cubicle in bra

  and panties when male members of the team were

  about.

  Only there was no way he could say something like

  that! And now he thought about it, he’d only once seen

  her come out of the cubicle not dressed and that had

  been the day all the cubicles had been full and he’d

  yelled out for someone to hurry and she’d come out to

  let him use the one she’d been in.

  And when she’d emerged she’d been clutching all

  her clothes in front of her so it wasn’t until he’d come

  out he’d seen her in the bra and panties.

  And lusted just a little…

  He watched her scurry to the bathroom, and knew

  she was trying not to scurry—trying hard to walk

  calmly and nonchalantly—but her feet kept hurrying

  her anyway.

  She was so beautiful naked he wanted to be naked

  with her again, but if he walked into that bathroom

  they’d never get to work—well, not on time.

  ‘You realise,’ he said as he drove to work, from time

  to time sneaking a look at the slight smile of satisfac-

  tion still lingering on Grace’s face, ‘that even without

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  the fact that some of the women might realise you’re

  wearing yesterday’s clothes, the people we work with

  will soon realise we’re having an affair.’

  She turned to him with the perplexed look that

  always made him realise just how fragile her façade of

  cool sophistication was.

  ‘How?’ she asked, and he laughed out loud.

  ‘One look at your face and Becky, who runs gossip

  central in the unit, will know you’ve had satisfying sex.’

  He paused, suddenly doubtful.

  ‘It was satisfying, wasn’t it?’

  Had she read his uncertainty that she touched him

  lightly on the forearm?

  ‘Very satisfactory,’ she murmured, colour rising del-

  icately pink in her cheeks. ‘And I don’t think it will hurt

  me to have people knowing, but you? They know you

  better. In fact, they know you well enough for someone

  to tell me that you don’t get involved with other mem-

  bers of the team, so there’ll be talk about you making

  an exception. And then you’ll be here when I’ve gone—

  it will be worse for you.’

  The colour had disappeared from her cheeks and

  she was looking genuinely worried.

  For him?

  It seemed so, and although he hadn’t liked how he’d

  felt when she’d pressed home the point that she’d be

  gone, he spoke quickly, reassuring her it was none of

  anyone else’s business and while they might talk among

  themselves it was unlikely anyone would say anything

  to either of them directly.

  ‘Which just goes to show how little you know!’

  Grace muttered to herself as she made her way to Phil’s

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  consulting room, after Becky, the unit secretary, had

  greeted her with a beaming smile and an innocent-

  sounding ‘Nice night?’ question.

  But it had been a nice night. More than nice, in fact,

  and though she’d grown back enough brain to cope

  very coolly and efficiently with all the consultations

  she was taking for Phil while he gave a paper at a con-

  ference in Melbourne, deep inside she could still feel

  echoes of the sheer delight that had transported her to

  places far, far away.

  Grace galaxy?

  The consultations went well, three children to be

  booked for operations later on, four follow-up cases and

  finally an older patient, sixteen-year-old Kelly Groves—

  no case file, just a note from Becky to say she was a

  last-minute appointment.

  Kelly came into the room on her own—well, a sixteen-

  year-old didn’t need her parents with her—but one look

  at her, at h
er rounded, slightly puffy face, suggested to

  Grace that the teenager was on anti-rejection drugs.

  ‘You wanted to see Dr Park. I’m afraid he’s not in,

  but can I help you?’ Grace offered as Kelly sat down,

  clasping her shiny pink handbag in her lap.

  ‘Probably not, but I doubt if Dr Park could either.’

  Kelly paused then gave an embarrassed half-shrug. ‘I

  kind of told a lie to the secretary so I could get an ap-

  pointment. I told her Dr Park had operated on me at

  another hospital when I was a baby and that I was

  visiting someone in the hospital so I thought I might say

  hello to him and thank him. The thing is, I keep wanting

  to know and I thought Dr Park, or even you perhaps,

  might be able to help me to go on without knowing.’

  MEREDITH WEBBER

  115

  Grace listened to the words and wondered if she’d

  lost her brain again for they didn’t seem to be making

  much sense. But the young woman was obviously

  agitated so Grace prompted her.

  ‘Knowing?’ she said gently.

  ‘Knowing who has my heart.’

  The words burst from Kelly’s lips, making even less

  sense than the lead-up conversation had. The girl was

  very much alive so she must have a heart.

  ‘Your heart?’

  Kelly smiled.

  ‘Isn’t it weird?’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t you, like, want

  to know, if it was you? I know it’s all about confiden-

  tiality but I feel—I want to know if my heart’s working

  for whoever got it, like if he or she is OK, and I

  wondered if I could just find out that much.’

  Grace stared at the girl. She had to have a heart or

  she wouldn’t be there.

  Light dawned.

  ‘You had a heart-lung transplant and your heart went

  to someone else? Cystic fibrosis?’

  Kelly nodded.

  ‘It’s a year ago and I’m fine but now I know I’m OK

  I can’t stop thinking about the other person. At night I

  dream about her—to me it’s a her because I can’t

  imagine my heart in a teenage boy. I mean, how would

  he feel—would he have girl feelings in his heart instead

  of boy feelings?’

  Grace wanted to assure Kelly that hearts didn’t really

  feel emotions but something in her chest had ached

  when Paul had jilted her.

  Still, she had to try…

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  ‘You know other civilisations believe other organs

  are the seat of our emotions—some think the kidneys,

  or the liver—but, really, what we feel comes from what