by Annie O'Neil
“I’ve come to try and convince my wife to come back home.”
Isla looked down at her bare hand. She’d left the ring on the bedside table before she’d stormed off in a sea of hormones and self-protection.
“Convince or strong-arm?”
He winced.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I—This is—”
“I know. It’s a bit of a shock. But I’m not here to force you to do anything. I was just hoping...hoping you might spare a weary traveler a cup of coffee?”
It was so good to see him. So difficult not to run straight into his arms. But her hands were clasped on her belly for a very specific reason. They were protecting the child she knew he didn’t want.
Mary rounded the corner, holding a Chihuahua in each hand. They were her two “house dogs.” The rest of the pack lived in Mary’s luxury kennels just down the lane.
Her eyes widened when she saw Diego. “Isla? Everything all right, dearie?”
“Yes, I—” She threw a look at Mary. One that she hoped said Can you just remind me of all of those pack leader tips again?
“You know...” Mary’s brow crinkled. “I just remembered I’ve got to go do a few things at the kennels. Is it all right if I catch up with you and your friend later? As long as you’re okay?”
Isla looked at Diego, then back at Mary. She’d never been frightened of Diego. Ever. What she had been frightened of was her feelings for him. The powerlessness she’d felt when she had tried to change herself to make someone love her. She knew now that you couldn’t make anyone love you. They either did or they didn’t. And the fact that she was pregnant had been a game-changer for the pair of them.
“It’s okay, Mary. We’ll be fine.”
* * *
A few minutes later, after a lot of faffing about with cups and kettles, coffee and her ever-present mint tea, Isla and Diego were sitting at the round wooden kitchen table in the window nook that faced out to the North Sea.
“If you threw a few palm trees about the place it’d be just like El Valderon,” Diego said dryly.
“Ha! Yes. Exactly.”
They both stared at their hot drinks for a moment, then as one began speaking.
“You first,” he said.
“No, no. You’ve come the furthest.” Isla lifted her steaming mug to her lips and nodded for him to go ahead.
“I—”
Dios! This was harder than he’d thought it would be. All the speeches he’d prepared at home, on the plane, on the drive here...were gone. Every last word.
“Diego?”
“I love you.”
She pursed her lips. “That may be so, but you don’t want a child and I do, so—”
He held up a finger. “Please. Hear me out.”
“Did my father put you up to this? Tell you that you had to make an honest woman of me?”
“No.” Diego gave an amazed laugh. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“What?”
Pure indignation lit up Isla’s features and Diego couldn’t help but smile. There she was. The spirited woman he’d fallen head over heels in love with.
“Honesty is the best policy?”
Isla nodded, though a flash of concern blunted the purity of her blue eyes for a moment.
“I love you.”
“You already said that, and I told you—”
He spoke over her. “And I want to be a father to my child. To our children...if you’ll have me.”
“Oh? So now all of a sudden, after one month on your own and an entire adulthood of swearing off procreation, you’ve decided you want to have a big family? What spurred this on?”
He could see it was bluster. That she was protecting herself. The child. Their child.
“Por favor, amorcita.” He took her hands in his and drew them to his lips. “I promise—once you agree to marry me again, for real—you can lead all of our conversations, but...if you will let me... I’d like to explain why I was such a huevón.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said with a sniff.
“It means I’ve not only been an idiot but I dropped the ball when it was most important. To us. It isn’t as if you got pregnant on your own.”
“Or on purpose,” she added.
Her hands swept across her belly and a soft, beautiful smile lit up her face.
“Whatever you’re about to say, Diego, know this. I am over the moon that I’m pregnant.”
She didn’t look elated. But she did look determined.
“I want this baby,” she said, her index fingers arrowed at her flat belly.
“And I want it too.”
“But you were so adamant...”
“That was before. When anger and revenge fueled everything. With Axl dying the way he did—everything happening so fast—it was all too much to process. There were too many sea changes to make on the edge of a coin.”
She fixed him with a yeah, right glare.
“I did change. From the moment I met you—”
“All soaked in blood and surf and dirt? Yeah. A real pretty picture.”
“You were then and still are the most beautiful woman in the world, Isla. And I would love for you to come home. To our home.”
“Having a child is a huge thing. Particularly when you don’t even want one to sit on your lap!”
It was his turn to feel sheepish. “She asked for you instead of me. I didn’t want to admit it. I was so busy fighting the fact I was in love with you I just let her request fuel the lie I’d fed myself over the years.”
“Which was...?”
“That I wasn’t fit to be a father. That I was a man who couldn’t be trusted to be there when it counted.”
She blinked a few times, as if reliving a memory, then asked, “And what was it that changed your mind?”
“Paz.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Paz Cruz?”
“The one and only. Believe it or not, he and I have had quite a few heart-to-hearts over the past few weeks and it’s got me thinking. If the son of a man who was so obviously on the wrong side of the law could raise a child who’s so kind—so willing to give of himself—maybe I’m better equipped than I thought to take that risk. So long as I let go of my anger over my brother’s death—the self-hatred that I wasn’t there.”
“And...?” Isla reached across to him, gave his hand a squeeze. “Have you done that? Forgiven yourself?”
He nodded. “Yes—and no. I will always wish I’d been there. There will never be a day that I won’t. But...” He looked her straight in the eye. “Knowing I have you by my side would always give me strength.”
For the first time since he’d reached into his chest and handed her his heart she smiled. That full, bright, cheery smile that lit her up from within.
“What do you think? Could you leave the wilds of Loch Craggen behind a second time?”
“For you?” Isla feigned having to think about it, then threw herself into his arms. “For you I would do anything. Well...” She pulled back and gave him a serious look. “I will never eat beetroot. I can tell you that here and now.”
“Right. Got it. I promise.” He crossed his heart. “No beetroot. Can I kiss my wife now?”
“You may.”
The moment their lips met he knew he would do everything in his power to make Isla happy. To bring her and their children joy. Peace was still a fragile thing on the island of El Valderon, but it lived solidly and happily in his heart.
EPILOGUE
“I CAN’T BELIEVE how many there are!” Isla tucked her hand in the crook of Diego’s arm and gave his shoulder a kiss as they stood side by side to watch the excitement on the beach.
“There are over three hundred, if the last count was accurate.” Diego pointed toward the shoreline, where the ba
by turtles were being released into the sea. “Look at your father. He’s absolutely over the moon!”
Isla laughed. “This is pure bliss for him. Having his family all together...”
She leaned toward the baby Diego had strapped to his chest in the El Valderon version of a baby sling and gave his dark curly head a kiss.
“Hola, mi amor!”
Her heart nearly burst with happiness as her brand-new son wrapped his tiny hand round her index finger.
Diego slipped his arm round his wife’s shoulders and dropped a soft kiss on to her forehead.
“This is all because of you.”
She pursed her lips together and laughed. “Rubbish! It was you. You and Paz, working tirelessly to bring peace and stability to El Valderon.”
They both looked at Serena, a mother clearly bursting with pride as her son talked a large group of school children through the release.
Paz was wearing his paramedic uniform, his long trousers rolled up to his knees as he and the children each brought a baby sea turtle close to the shoreline and watched it make its way toward the sea.
Diego tipped his head to the side, his cheeky grin lighting up her insides every bit as much as seeing him the first time had. “Shall we agree that it is because of all of us?”
She gave him a light kiss. “I can agree with that.”
Diego slipped his hand to his wife’s back and gave it a light rub. Isla shimmied against it. His touch never failed to unleash a flight of butterflies.
“I love you, Isla.” His voice was thick with emotion.
Another ribbon of heat twirled through her belly and swirled round her heart. “I love you, too.” She meant it with all her soul. “Meeting you...albeit in some rather peculiar circumstances...” They shared a wry laugh. “Meeting you changed how I saw things. How I saw the world. Life.”
Diego brushed the backs of his fingers along his wife’s cheek. “You give me too much credit. Besides...” He protectively cupped his newborn’s head with his hand. “I don’t think I’d be a proud father of two, watching just about the whole of El Valderon come together to secure a peaceful future for everyone who lives here, without you.”
Isla threw back her head and laughed. “We’re in danger of becoming a mutual admiration society if we don’t watch it!”
Diego’s eyes dropped to half-mast as he swept his hand along Isla’s back, then gave her a saucy pat on the butt. “Oh, we are long past that, mi amor. Long past that.”
Isla’s lips parted in a wide smile. “I think we may have to find time for that siesta we spoke about this morning after all...”
Diego’s tongue swept across his lower lip. “I think that is a very good idea.”
Emilio ran up the beach from where he’d been standing with his grandfather and Mary—who, she noticed, was wearing an engagement ring. Isla crossed her fingers that she and Diego would be on the receiving end of a bit of a speech and a toast at their anniversary dinner tonight.
Two years! It had gone by so quickly that sometimes she thought she’d barely drawn a breath. And other times...when her husband pulled his fingers through her hair and lifted her face to meet his gaze, his lips...she felt as if she’d finally learnt how to make a moment truly stand still.
Emilio reached up and grabbed his mother’s hand. “Mamá! Turtles!”
She scooped her son up into her arms and laughed. “You want to set one of the babies free?”
Her toddler nodded, his grin of anticipation nearly splitting his face in two. Of course he did. She did as well.
“What do you say we all go down and help?”
“Sounds good to me!”
Diego took his wife’s hand and together, as a family, they walked to the shoreline to join their community as they celebrated the first successful—and peaceful—release.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Annie O’Neil
Tempted by Her Single Dad Boss
The Army Doc’s Christmas Angel
One Night with Dr. Nikolaides
Reunited with Her Parisian Surgeon
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Wife for the Surgeon Sheikh by Meredith Webber.
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A Wife for the Surgeon Sheikh
by Meredith Webber
CHAPTER ONE
LAUREN SUPPOSED SHE had known there’d be an executive director of finance and logistics—after all, someone would have to look after the money side of the hospital—but in the nearly two years she’d worked here she’d never heard of Mr Marshall, to whose office she had been summoned at the end of her shift.
Was there something wrong with her superannuation? No, she was sure chief executives had more important things to do than worry about very minor employees’ superannuation.
So, what could he possibly want?
Unanswerable questions kept worry at bay as the elevator rose to the rarefied air of the sixth floor, but walking down the corridor in search of Room 279 she found panic building...
A beautifully dressed secretary—or perhaps a personal assistant—looked her up and down, and offered a disdainful eyebrow lift at the sight of her dishevelled end-of-shift clothes, which were probably bloodstained somewhere an apron didn’t cover, before ushering her through a door into the inner sanctum.
‘Sister Macpherson,’ the woman announced, and Lauren stepped forward, wondering which of the two men was Mr Marshall. Surely not the one in the grey silk suit that hung on him with such precision he could have been a model in a very expensive tailor’s shop.
A very good-looking model, from what she could see, as he stood with the light behind him. Although his shoulders were probably wider than the norm so the suit had, undoubtedly, been tailor-made.
But Silk Suit remained by the window, studying her, she was sure, from beneath heavy eyelids.
Hawk’s eyes...
Hooded...
Scanning for prey?
She felt a shiver of apprehension, and a slight stirring of something she couldn’t quite place, and definitely didn’t want to think about...
‘I’m Ted Marshall,’ the other man said, interrupting her fantasy and stepping forward. He held out his hand towards Lauren and positively radiated goodwill. ‘Please, come in and sit down. Sheikh Madani has something he wishes to discuss with you, and as he’s come a long way to see our new children’s wing, the very least I can do is offer him the hospitality of my room.’
Twit!
But
the name he’d mentioned—it couldn’t be... It was impossible.
Though of course it had to be, and as a feeling of inevitability all but swamped her, Lauren told herself she was not afraid.
Well, not much...
Practically falling over himself to please Silk Suit, Ted Marshall waved the other visitor forward, though Lauren hadn’t sat down, flight-or-fight instinct telling her she’d be better off on her feet.
‘Sheikh Madani, this is Sister Macpherson. Now, I’ll leave the two of you to discuss your business.’
Leave her here with Madani?
No way!
She knew the name Madani only too well. Knew it and hated it with a passion. Hadn’t it been a Madani who had stolen her sister?
‘You can’t do that!’ she said to the departing Mr Marshall. ‘You can’t get me up here and leave me in a room with a total stranger because he praised your new hospital! That’s irresponsible and unethical and probably illegal!’
She knew her cheeks were probably scarlet and her hair was probably standing on end, and forget being afraid—terror had prompted her outburst. Not for herself, but for Nim.
Silk Suit watched from the window, his eyes, lids lifted now, focussed in her direction.
And if that was a smirk twitching at his lips, she’d kill him.
Or get Joe to kill him.
‘You need fear no danger from me,’ the man said, his voice as smooth as the sleek clothes he wore, the accompanying smile as friendly as a shark’s.
‘There, you see,’ Ted Marshall said, edging closer to the door. ‘The sheikh has business with the hospital then mentioned wanting to see you. Apparently, there’s a family matter he wishes to discuss with you, and I’m sure it would be to your advantage to listen to him.’
And on that note he scuttled out of the door.
Lauren remained where she was, paralysed by the knowledge that this man might well have been behind the murder of her sister and parents.
And if not him, surely one of his relations...
But there was no way she could reveal the panic in her heart or the clutch of icy fingers gripping her stomach.
