Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

by Sue MacKay

  And she would never have been ready.

  ‘You’ve cut your hair,’ Kieran commented, feeling a pang of loss.

  ‘Too hard to manage with small children and their sticky fingers.’ She flashed him a half-smile.

  She had beautiful hair. Even now. Cut in a soft style that tucked around her face Kieran wanted to reach out and touch the silky strands. He resisted with difficulty. Touching her would not help the situation.

  Abigail’s nervous with me. She was trying to hide it but her give-away facial expressions told the truth. Pique rippled through him. He wasn’t used to being treated in such a deliberately offhand fashion. Of course she’d be apprehensive after shocking him about Seamus, but he’d just spent nearly two days travelling around the globe so he didn’t appreciate being treated like something dragged up from the bottom of a deep pond. He was the one who had something to be upset about. And hadn’t he been charming and friendly?

  ‘I apologise for the brevity of my email, but there seemed to be hundreds of things to be organised before I left home.’ He risked another smile. His smiles usually won him anything he wanted.

  Abigail leaned closer, a whiff of some exotic flower tantalising him. She was no doubt only now recognising that she hadn’t been very welcoming. How would she make up for that? A light kiss?

  She said, ‘Baggage claim’s outside.’

  Great. Getting warmer. His heart banged against his ribs. He’d have to polish his charm if the next two months were to be bearable. ‘Right, let’s grab my gear and get out of here.’

  As he turned to follow her, the old lady who had sat next to him on the plane waved and called softly, ‘You won’t be needing me next trip.’ Her head tilted at Abigail.

  Oh, yes, he would. He might want to win a warm smile from the woman who’d shanghaied his brain but he couldn’t imagine taking a long-haul flight with her and Olivia. And Seamus, a little voice piped up in the back of his head. He winked at the old lady. ‘See you in February.’

  Then he strode outside to the baggage claim area. As he did so he thought about the unexpected change in the warm, vibrant woman standing next to him. He’d first met her at his sister’s marriage to David. Abigail seemed quieter, more uptight than he recalled. Guess being a mother did that.

  He totted up other changes he’d begun noticing. Abigail didn’t bounce on her toes any more. Her quick grin seemed to have flicked off permanently. Shadows lined the skin beneath her eyes. Life since they’d spent that wonderful night together had been harder on her than him.

  A screech of tyres snapped through the air, followed by a thump. A woman screamed.

  Another woman cried out, ‘Quick. Someone, help.’

  Kieran met Abigail’s startled glance. ‘That our cue?’

  She nodded, ‘I’d say so.’

  ‘I’m a doctor.’ Kieran squeezed past gaping faces and prodding elbows.

  Abigail followed. ‘Let me through. I’m a nurse.’

  ‘He stepped right in front of me.’ A male voice sounded defensive. ‘I never had a chance to avoid him.’

  Abigail dropped to her knees beside a prostrate man held down at his chest by the front wheel of a four-wheeled motorbike towing the baggage trailers.

  Looking around, Kieran said, ‘Someone, call an ambulance.’

  ‘I’m onto it,’ a man answered.

  Urgency underlined Abigail’s words. ‘We need that bike lifted away.’

  Kieran searched the closest faces, found the driver of the bike, an orange safety jacket and a white face the give-away. ‘How many of us will it take to move this bike?’

  ‘Six, I reckon. I’ll unhook the luggage trailers.’ The man’s voice trembled as he stared down at the accident victim. ‘Is he going to be all right?’

  Kieran gripped the driver’s shoulder. ‘We can’t say until we’ve had a proper look at him.’

  ‘He kind of tripped. I never saw him coming.’

  Tripped? Stepped out? Fainted? Heart attack? Kieran tossed up scenarios. The unconscious man appeared to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties, so cardiac malfunction couldn’t be ruled out.

  Turning to the pressing crowd, he spoke loudly and clearly. ‘Step back, everyone. Give us some space, please.’ He searched for strong men to help lift the quad bike away.

  ‘Abigail, you’ll have to move aside for a moment.’ He didn’t want her getting hurt if the lift went wrong and the bike toppled over.

  She nodded. When their patient had been freed, she leaned close to him. ‘You weren’t meant to start work today.’

  ‘If you mean, am I alert enough after thirty-six hours’ flying? No, I’m probably not up to a full-scale emergency. But I think we can manage this between us.’ At least the patient might be happier to have him around than she appeared to be.

  A shadow crossed her eyes, darkening them to the colour of well-cooked toast. ‘I only meant it’s not much of a welcome to Nelson.’

  He squeezed her hand, suddenly in need of contact with her. Any contact. He wanted to establish a connection that would get him over the hurdles of the coming weeks. ‘Let’s look at our man.’

  They knelt, one each side of their patient, and Abigail lifted the man’s wrist as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the bright daylight.

  ‘What happened?’ he croaked.

  ‘You’ve been knocked down by a quad bike,’ Kieran explained. ‘I’m Dr Flynn, and this is Abby Brown, a nurse. Can you tell me your name and address, please?’

  As he answered, Abigail counted his pulse rate.

  ‘Paul Stokes, three Caper Drive, Richmond.’

  Nothing wrong with the man’s coherence. Kieran gently felt Paul’s chest. ‘I’m checking your ribs for fractures.’

  He didn’t add that if any ribs had been staved in a lung might be punctured. Pneumothorax was a distinct, and very serious, possibility.

  His patient grunted through white lips, beads of perspiration covered his forehead. ‘It hurts like hell. When I breathe in.’

  Around them people jostled for a look at the unfortunate man while others quickly collected their bags and disappeared.

  Abby placed Paul’s wrist down at his side. ‘Pulse is elevated. The paramedics can run an ECG when they arrive.’

  Kieran nodded, and asked their patient, ‘Do you remember feeling any chest pain before you were knocked down?’

  Paul’s voice was weakening. ‘I felt odd. Like I couldn’t quite get enough air into my lungs.’ The words dragged out around his pain, his red face now grey.

  ‘Did you notice the bike before it ran into you?’ Kieran was aware of Abigail carefully checking their patient’s legs for any injuries inflicted when the bike had rammed him.

  ‘No. Just my weird breathing.’

  Abigail muttered, ‘There’s swelling along the thigh, but no blood seepage. I’d like to remove these jeans and have a closer look at his right leg.’

  ‘It’ll have to wait,’ Kieran replied. ‘Okay, Paul, try to relax.’ He asked Abigail quietly, ‘Just how far away is the nearest hospital?’

  A slow smile curved her lips and burned him with its warmth. At last, the Abigail he’d been looking for. ‘Nearest hospital? The only hospital. You’re not in Dublin now.’ Her smile widened, taking away any sting he might’ve found in her words. ‘The ambulance base is ten minutes from here if they get a clear run.’

  Paul groaned, flapped his hands over his chest. ‘Worse,’ he gasped. His eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side.

  Immediately Abigail located his neck pulse, shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  Cardiac arrest. Just what they needed. Kieran fisted his hand and gave a hard thump to Paul’s chest but the heart didn’t restart. ‘Compressions. Quick, or we’ll lose him.’

  Abigail tilted the man’s head back to open his airway while Kieran placed his interlocked hands over Paul’s heart. As he pressed down and began counting the compressions, his admiration for Abigail’s efficiency crept through his mind. F
rom the moment they’d first heard the dreadful thud of Paul taking a slam she’d been one step ahead of him. Now she held the man’s head, no doubt ready to take over the compressions if required.

  Kieran continued the compressions. ‘Thirty.’ At his nod Abby checked Paul’s carotid pulse, shook her head. Kieran pressed down again. Thirty compressions. No pulse. Somewhere beyond the terminal a siren screamed. Please let it be the ambulance.

  Abby placed her forefinger on the carotid artery. ‘Come on, Paul, breathe for us.’

  Kieran pressed down, heard Abby gasp, ‘I think we have a pulse. Her mouth curved into a tender smile as she nodded. ‘Yes, definitely.’

  Kieran sagged in relief. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He glanced up as the paramedics arrived. They would take over now. He grinned at Abigail. ‘We make a great team.’

  Her smile wavered. ‘We do.’ She placed a hand on his arm and leaned close. Then suddenly jerked backwards.

  Had she been about to kiss him? Disappointment surged through his tired body. If only she had. He squashed the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her. Properly. He had not come here to rekindle their fling. That had been a one-night, grief-blanking event. It had been absolutely magical, but never to be repeated. Sadness swamped him. Never? Never.

  A sigh rippled across his bottom lip. ‘At least we know we work well together.’

  ‘We know more than that.’ Then she slam-dunked him. ‘We also made a beautiful little boy together.’

  ‘So that’s our new boss.’ Sally stood behind the nurses’ station in the emergency department, ogling Kieran as he chatted to two nurses. Two female nurses, who were having trouble keeping their jaws off the floor.

  ‘Yep, that’s him.’ Abby sighed wistfully. He already looked as though he belonged there. Five minutes and he had the staff eating out of his hand.

  Kieran had come in from the airport in the ambulance with Paul Stokes. It hadn’t been necessary but he’d insisted, saying he’d feel happier about the situation. The female paramedics had acquiesced to his charm within seconds. Abby had screwed up the parking ticket she’d found under her windscreen wiper and followed the ambulance, her car filled with Kieran’s luggage. If she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he’d come for a year. But she did know better. Even if he finally accepted his son, Kieran wouldn’t be staying. His career always came first. Why was that? Did he continuously have to prove himself, like someone else she’d known?

  ‘Very tasty.’ Sally almost drooled.

  ‘You think so?’ Abby glanced in the same direction as her friend and felt a hitch in her throat as Kieran bent over the cardiac monitoring equipment attached to his patient, stretching his trousers across a very tidy backside. But totally agreeing with her closest friend didn’t mean she had to admit it out loud.

  Happily married, Sally was in the business of finding Abby a husband, so far without success. Mainly because Abby had no interest in settling down with anyone ever again. She’d tried it once and had been scorched so badly she no longer trusted her own judgment.

  ‘Whenever you speak in that so-who-gives-a-damn voice I know you’re covering your real thoughts. Come on, what harm can it do to admit the guy’s gorgeous?’ A smug look settled over Sally’s face. ‘He’s single, right?’

  ‘Don’t go there. I am not the slightest bit tempted. Believe me on this one.’ Abby huffed out a breath and turned away from the intriguing sight. She had to stop Sally in her tracks. It didn’t help that her friend didn’t know who Seamus’s father was. Abby had never divulged that information, and Sally had quickly learned not to mention it. ‘I am definitely not interested.’

  ‘Not interested in what?’ asked the man himself from behind her.

  Sheesh. Her hands fisted in her tunic pockets. She’d been so intent on getting the message through Sally’s skull that she hadn’t noticed Kieran leave his patient and cross over to them.

  ‘Nothing,’ she muttered.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Kieran’s gaze scudded over her.

  ‘Absolutely.’ A shiver tickled her spine but she met his gaze head on, and gulped. His eyes, so bright, so perceptive, held her enthralled. She’d been expecting anger, not beguiling smiles and twinkling eyes. With an extreme effort she looked away, fully aware that Kieran was quite capable of seducing her into a false sense of ease before he delivered his attack about Seamus. She held no illusions that a diatribe would come. Why not? She’d behaved badly over this.

  ‘Hello, Abby?’ Kieran waved his hand before her. ‘Where have you gone?’

  She shook her head. Not very far at all. She seemed to have lost her grip on reality today. ‘How’s Paul Stokes?’ She nodded in their patient’s direction in the hope of deflecting Kieran. ‘How’s the latest ECG looking?’

  Kieran continued to study her in that disturbing manner that made her want to check whether she had any clothes on. Finally, he replied to her query. ‘Not good. Who’s the duty cardiologist? How do I get hold of him?’

  Sally took over. ‘Hamish Harrington, and I’ll track him down for you.’

  ‘Has the patient’s wife been called?’

  When Sally nodded, Kieran turned back to Abby. ‘Can you give me a quick tour of the department and introduce me to the staff? Paul’s in good hands with the intern until the cardiologist gets here.’

  With his hand firmly holding her elbow, she had little choice except to do as he’d asked. But as the nurse in charge of the department Sally should be the one to show him around. ‘Sally? You want to do this?’

  One wink from Sally and Abby knew there’d be no help from that quarter. Her friend would actively foster any interest that Kieran might show in her.

  Tugging her arm free, Abby answered, ‘It won’t take long. It’s not a huge department such as you’ll be used to.’

  ‘Makes an interesting change. There might be more time to get to know the staff than I have back home.’

  Abby rolled her eyes. ‘Unfortunately, we still get incredibly busy. As with any hospital board, finance rules. Staffing levels are usually at least one, if not two, people below what we require.’

  ‘Typical.’ Kieran shrugged. ‘Dr Banning mentioned that this hospital services a huge rural area.’

  It was Michael Banning’s position as Head of Department that Kieran would be covering.

  Abby filled Kieran in. ‘The whole of the top of the South Island really, apart from Blenheim, which is more than a hundred kilometres away. There are small rural towns and plenty of farms, orchards and vineyards fanning out from here, plus major industries such as forestry and fishing.’

  ‘Both those industries are susceptible to hideous accidents.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there.’ Abby’s lips pressed together and a flicker of despair cramped her stomach. Twice she’d nursed old school friends after logging accidents.

  Kieran was right behind her when she pushed open the door to Michael’s, soon to be Kieran’s, office, the last stop on the tour. She felt so aware of him that her skin seemed to have a life of its own; a hot tingle touching the insides of her elbows, a searing on her neck just below her chin. She took a large step inside to put space between them, and turned to face Kieran.

  The door clicked shut, and Kieran leaned back against it, his unfathomable eyes fixed on her. A shiver of trepidation chilled her. Was this it? Had the moment she’d been dreading arrived? Here? At work? Surely not.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. ‘It’s a pity Michael couldn’t be here to meet you but, of course, he’s incredibly tied up at the moment and not expecting you to come in until Friday.’

  ‘Abigail.’ He stopped, shook his head. ‘You’re not comfortable with me being here, in the department, are you?’ His bewilderment appeared genuine. His chin lifted and those blue eyes darkened as he waited for her reply.

  ‘It’s a little awkward, with what’s between us. I—You …’ She stopped. Even today, every time he looks at me, I want to put my hands on his face, run
my fingers along that strong jaw. I want one of his bone-bending kisses. No, I don’t. I want to run away from the questions in those tired eyes. ‘We do need to talk about Seamus, but I don’t think this is the place. Right now you have a patient to hand over and then you should get out of here while you can. You’re exhausted from your trip, and in need of a meal and a shower.’

  For a long moment Kieran stared at her. Abby shoved her trembling fingers deep into her pockets as she waited for him to tell her what he really thought about her decision not tell him about his son.

  Finally, Kieran jerked the handle to open the door. But his voice was surprisingly soft, almost sympathetic. ‘We’ve not finished talking, but you’re right, it’ll have to wait until a more suitable time and place.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Relief whooshed through Abby.

  Kieran raised a black eyebrow. ‘There’s nothing to be thankful for. We have one hell of a mess to sort out.’

  ‘Mess?’ That was not how she’d describe her family but, then, she wasn’t the one terrified of raising children. ‘Listen, Kieran. I love those kids and believe I’m giving them everything they need to grow into happy, responsible adults. Where’ s the mess in that?’

  ‘I only have one.’ He hesitated. ‘Sorry, two relatives, and they both live on the opposite side of the world from me. I never know what is happening in their lives. Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know there was a second child I should be aware of. This, to me, is a mess.’

  He had a valid point. Despite the photos and Olivia’s drawings she’d sent him, he didn’t really know his niece. Whose fault was that? But they weren’t really talking about Olivia. It was Seamus who hung between them, divided them.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe the number of times I tried to ring and tell you about Seamus. I even wrote letters to you, included photos in with some of them.’