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The Heart Surgeon's Baby Surprise

Page 17

by Meredith Webber


  ‘Why?’ he asked.

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  ‘Why talk?’

  ‘No, why here?’

  She had to smile.

  Then take another deep breath.

  ‘Because if we were at your place or at my place

  we’d get very little talking done.’ She smiled again.

  ‘You know that.’

  The darkness in his eyes she’d taken for anger now

  faded and a glimmer she knew well took its place, but

  he nodded his agreement.

  ‘So talk,’ he added, in case his nod wasn’t enough.

  Easy for him to say!

  Third deep breath. She had to stop this—she’d pass

  out.

  ‘On the plane,’ she began, but before she could con-

  tinue Theo broke in.

  ‘You should never have been on that plane. You

  should have told Phil you were pregnant and couldn’t

  go. You’ve got two lives to think about now. It was

  madness.’

  She stared at him, unable to believe this was the, oh,

  so professional Theo Corones talking.

  ‘Theo, it’s my job, I had to go, pregnant or not, and

  I’ll continue to do my job wherever it takes me. And

  this is my talking time, not yours. As I was saying, on

  the plane, when it flew into a bit of trouble—’

  ‘Bit of trouble? You were off the radar, Grace! It was

  assumed you’d crashed!’

  ‘Theo?’

  He stopped talking, staring off into the corner of the

  courtyard, but she saw how drawn and tired he looked

  and suddenly regretted starting the conversation now.

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  ‘I’m sorry, you’ve been up all night, and worrying,

  too, over Scarlett. We’ll sit here while you have your

  breakfast and we’ll talk some other time.’

  He spun around and though he sounded angry it

  wasn’t anger she could see in his eyes. It was something

  else.

  ‘Talk some other time? That’s just the problem.

  That’s what I realised last night—there might not be

  another time.’

  And because his thinking was so in tune with hers

  she reached across the table and took his hand.

  ‘Oh, Theo, that’s exactly what I thought on the plane.

  I realised how selfish I’d been, how unfair to the baby.

  I started to worry about who would bring up our child—

  well, not so much bring up but protect our child if some-

  thing happened to me. You asked me once before about

  the ethical considerations of bringing up a child with

  only one parent and I scoffed at you, but you were right.

  Who will be the child’s security if that one parent goes?

  Oh, I have my father, and friends who have children and

  no doubt when I’d thought it through I’d have made pro-

  visions for guardianship but, Theo, I know it’s a lot to

  ask, particularly as you never wanted a child and espe-

  cially as you don’t want emotional attachment to it,

  and I’m sorry I got upset because of the financial stuff,

  but I thought if you’re going to be keeping in touch

  because of the child’s future responsibilities I wondered

  if perhaps you could be around a little bit more and he

  or she could really get to know you so—’

  ‘Stop right there!’

  He removed his hand from hers so he could hold it

  up, like a traffic policeman at a breathalyser station.

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  ‘Have you actually heard yourself? Have you heard

  the drivel you’re spouting? Friends who could be guar-

  dians? I’m the child’s father—guardianship isn’t some-

  thing you decide. This is my child you’re talking about.’

  ‘But you didn’t want involvement,’ Grace reminded

  him. ‘It’s the one thing you didn’t want and, knowing

  what you’ve been through, I can understand that.’

  Theo stared across the table at the beautiful woman

  who had wreaked such havoc in his life. She had no

  idea—not a clue—how things had changed between

  them.

  Or had things changed?

  Was it only him feeling all the things he’d never wanted

  to feel again? The love he felt for Grace was a first—a very

  different love to the attraction-convenience kind of love

  he’d shared with Lena. But that wasn’t the issue—what

  was at stake was Grace. And would she be prattling on

  the way she was if she felt anything at all for him?

  The way she spoke, she certainly wasn’t seeing them

  as a couple…

  ‘Well?’ she demanded, and he realised he didn’t have

  a clue how to go on.

  Make a fool of himself by declaring his love?

  Not only make a fool of himself, but embarrass her

  at the same time?

  ‘I think I should go back and sleep outside your

  door. I might have got a crick in my neck but I wasn’t

  so confused,’ he muttered, as the waitress appeared

  with his order. He looked at the fabled Big Breakfast

  the brasserie served and knew he should be hungry but

  all of a sudden bacon and eggs and sausages and

  tomatoes and hash browns had no appeal at all.

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  What he wanted was Grace.

  In his life, in his bed, sharing a breakfast table with

  him for ever.

  And all she wanted was a promise that he’d take care

  of her child if something happened to her…

  ‘I think I’ll go now,’ he said, standing up and pushing

  back his chair with his legs. ‘Maybe we’ll both make

  more sense when we’ve had some sleep.’

  ‘You haven’t said anything to make sense or not,’

  Grace pointed out, in her usual practical, precise way.

  ‘And I’ve had some sleep. But if you need to sleep

  before you decide if you want to be a guardian to your

  own child then that’s fine by me!’

  Theo peered down at her.

  She sounded huffy, and huffy wasn’t a word he’d

  ever associated with Grace, but maybe he was just so

  tired he was misreading her.

  But just in case he wasn’t, he’d better check it out.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

  She glared at him—definitely huffy.

  ‘Of course I’m not all right. I nearly died last night,

  Theo, and it made me think about my life and the life

  of my child, and when I try to explain it to someone

  who I think just might care, what do I get? You assert-

  ing you’ll choose a guardian, which is all very well for

  you, but what if I don’t agree?’

  Grace stopped and shook her head.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘that isn’t what I wanted to dis-

  cuss with you at all. This conversation has got so far off

  track it’s ridiculous. I probably started at the wrong

  place and now I can see you’re exhausted so we won’t

  say any more now, but do eat your breakfast. You’ll

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  sleep better if you’ve eaten. And if you want company,

  I’ll sit here an
d not talk at all.’

  He studied her for a moment, then he sat—he was

  hungry. And maybe sitting a while with Grace would

  calm him down, bring back the balm to his soul that

  he’d felt when she’d been living with him.

  He cut the sausages, pushed a small piece on his

  fork, added a snippet of egg and began to eat, realising

  when he was halfway through that Grace could well be

  hungry too.

  ‘They’re not as tasty as your South African sausages,’

  he said, cutting another piece and pushing it onto his

  fork, ‘but they’re very good. Try it?’

  He offered the fork across the table to her and as she

  leaned forward, lips opening, to slide it into her mouth,

  he remembered Phil saying not to leave it too late.

  ‘I love you,’ he said, then wondered if the Heimlich

  manoeuvre really worked as Grace began to choke on

  the sausage.

  ‘You what?’ she demanded, when, flushed and

  breathless, she rested back in her chair.

  ‘I love you,’ he repeated, the words sounding better

  the second time—firmer, more positive, no longer ten-

  tative and hesitant. ‘I realised it last night when we

  thought the plane had crashed. I realised I loved you

  and I’d never had a chance to tell you. Never had a

  chance to say how beautiful you are, not only outside

  but inside as well, and how caring and considerate, for

  all you hide it under your cool, competent manner.

  And how you’re never quite sure when you’re being

  teased because you’re such a down-the-line person

  and haven’t had a lot of teasing. And I love that little

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  hitch you get in your breathing when your uncertainty

  comes through and I want to kill the rat who left you

  at the altar and never told you what a wonderful, sexy

  woman you are.’

  She stared at him, pale now, then she smiled.

  ‘All this over sausages and eggs for breakfast,’ she

  said. ‘Should we have been having cooked breakfasts

  earlier?’

  He shook his head, relieved now he’d said what

  needed to be said, but very uncertain about its recep-

  tion. She was teasing him now, wasn’t she?

  He hoped she was but he didn’t have a clue, although

  she did reach across the table and take his hands, which

  had abandoned his cutlery and already pushed the re-

  mainder of his breakfast to one side.

  ‘You didn’t want this, Theo. You didn’t want emo-

  tional involvement.’

  She looked very serious—worried even—but that

  was Grace, already blaming herself for him falling in

  love with her, worried because he’d been so adamant

  he didn’t want to fall in love again.

  ‘That was before I met you,’ he told her, searching

  for the right words to say to this woman who’d been

  hurt before, so badly it was hard for her to believe—to

  trust.

  ‘And before I realised that life without emotional in-

  volvement—without love—is nothing more than a half-

  life—a kind of going-through-the-motions pretence at

  living. For years I’ve been telling myself it’s enough—

  the satisfaction I get in my job, the pleasure in seeing

  my house take shape—and by the way, I’ve rendered

  my oven and it’s ready to try. But even that failed to

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  delight me because you weren’t there and I couldn’t

  turn to you and watch as you admired it.’

  ‘You finished it?’

  Grace knew this wasn’t the issue here but all this

  other stuff—Theo loved her? Well, it was just too much

  to take in, let alone consider, although the warm, soft,

  rosy feeling inside of her suggested it was OK.

  ‘Grace!’ he said, so firmly she knew she had to

  answer him—not about the oven but about love.

  And love was something that she knew very little

  about.

  Something that made her scared—no, terrified…

  ‘That’s good,’ she began, feeling her way into this

  extraordinary conversation. ‘Because it kind of fits with

  what I really wanted to say when I started waffling on

  earlier. You see—’

  She thought she was doing quite well but Theo had

  retrieved his hands and was standing up again.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, not brusquely but it was defi-

  nitely an order. ‘We’re going home.’

  ‘Home?’ she echoed, definitely bleating now.

  ‘Home to my place, home to bed. You’re right, I

  need to sleep and I won’t sleep if you’re not in bed

  beside me so you’re coming too, and somehow we’ll

  get all this sorted out.’

  All what? she wanted to ask, but in truth she rather

  fancied Theo in this masterful mood and her body

  missed his so much she was aching for him, and if he

  loved her, surely he’d love the baby, so that would work

  out all right in the end…

  She followed him out of the brasserie, walked with

  him up the street to the hospital, even allowed him to

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  175

  do up her seat belt without protest, then as he drove—

  still masterful—towards his house, she felt herself re-

  laxing because it seemed so right, somehow, to be

  driving home with Theo.

  Which was when she realised that home would

  always be where Theo was…

  What was she thinking?

  Yes, she’d thought in terms of them spending time

  together once the baby was born—perhaps holidays—

  definitely visiting back and forth, but never, for all that

  her love for Theo had grown and blossomed inside her

  from the first time they’d made love, had she consid-

  ered a permanent situation between them.

  Because she’d been so sure he didn’t love her.

  And she’d been committed to honouring his deter-

  mination to not be emotionally involved.

  But if he loved her…

  Joy fluttered in her heart and she hoped that some

  time she might meet up with Kelly again because hearts

  could feel joy as well as sadness, and love and all the

  other emotions. Her liver wasn’t doing anything, thank

  you very much.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Theo asked as he

  parked outside his house.

  ‘About livers!’

  The words came out before Grace had time to stop

  them, but it didn’t matter, for Theo was laughing, a

  sound so joyous her heart began to dance and also, she

  rather thought, hum a few happy bars of music.

  ‘Oh, Grace, do you wonder I fell in love with you?’

  he said. ‘You come out with the most unexpected

  things. You are full of surprising moments of joy—and

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  an endless source of delight, not all of which, my beau-

  tiful Grace, is physical.’

  And with that he leaned across, wrapped his arms

  around her and kissed her thoroughly. So thoroug
hly, in

  fact, they were both a little shaky and definitely dishev-

  elled as they clambered out of the car and hurried into his

  house.

  No words were spoken—the time for words was

  past—as they hurried up the stairs, stripping off clothes

  as they went, discarding them carelessly so by the time

  they fell into bed they were naked.

  But here the tempo changed, Grace feeling confir-

  mation of Theo’s words of love in every touch, and

  touch he did, his hands exploring her as if this was

  their very first time together.

  Or was he relearning her as she was now relearning

  him, revelling in the satin smoothness of his skin, in the

  hardness of the muscles beneath it, in the masculine

  weight of his arms and the insistent teasing of his fin-

  gers? And as they joined he said the words again. ‘I love

  you, Grace.’ A declaration, her name, a little later, a

  shout of joy as well as of possession.

  But for herself?

  As she returned to earth from the far-flung place his

  loving transported her, she had to think about things.

  Oh, she loved him, and had for some time, but telling

  him, that was different. How could she say it when love

  had once before been thrown back in her face? When

  someone she’d thought returned her love had made a

  mockery of it, and, through her love, of her?

  She snuggled deeper into Theo’s sheltering arms, at

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  177

  peace yet not entirely, but he was sleeping now and talk

  could wait, for now she was content just to be…

  Not a word! Not even when her gasp and shattered cry

  of release had told him she’d reached orgasm. And now,

  when he’d awoken, he found her curled against him,

  sleeping peacefully, and he knew no more of how she

  felt than he had earlier.

  Or, in fact, during their entire relationship.

  Which just might, he admitted to himself with a

  sigh, be because he’d been so adamant about not

  wanting emotional involvement.

  How stupid had that been?

  He eased out of the bed, careful not to wake her,

  pulled on some briefs and went downstairs, sorry he’d

  finished the oven in the lonely days and nights when he’d

  been missing Grace. He made a cup of coffee and took

  it into the courtyard, sitting down with his back against

  the sun-warmed brick wall. But he didn’t find the peace

  he craved because in five short weeks she’d left her mark

  here as well, and he could see her snipping wayward

  shoots off his espaliered apple, hear her laughing over

 

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