Pregnant by the Playboy Surgeon

by Lucy Ryder

  Tak didn’t bother answering. It wasn’t worth the argument. Their parents weren’t worth the argument.

  Over Hetti’s shoulder he could see people milling about, waiting for the next trauma victim to come in. A rare calm before the proverbial storm. The helicopter was only a few minutes out now, and Hetti had got her team together and all the equipment she thought they might need. Now it was just a matter of waiting, and soon the place would be a flurry of activity again.

  ‘Anyway...’ Hetti shook her head as though dislodging the argument. ‘Effie isn’t one of my “waifs and strays”, as you so indelicately put it. She was an A&E doctor with me back when I was at Allport Infirmary last year. Turns out Effie has landed herself a plum role on the air ambulance across this way, too.’

  ‘Air ambulance? She must be particularly good.’

  ‘Oh, she is.’ Hetti nodded. ‘Effie was always exceptional. Noticed things other doctors missed...knew stuff even senior consultants might not know. It was no wonder the air ambulance snapped her up. Even you might be impressed.’

  ‘If you’re that taken with her then why don’t you make her your plus one?’

  For a moment it looked as though Hetti might want to say more, but then she sucked in a deep breath and grinned back at him in that disarming way of hers that he recognised from when she was a toddler.

  ‘Well, I would, but I’m on call that night,’ she shot back instantly, making Tak smile. ‘And, no, before you say anything, I don’t want you to get that changed for me, because then it will mean some other poor sucker who hasn’t got a medical god for a brother will end up missing out on the ball instead.’

  ‘Your choice.’ Tak shrugged. ‘But I told you—I’m going to the ball stag. Although right now I’m going home.’

  He should have gone ten minutes ago—well, technically he should have gone three hours ago. However, he’d wanted to stay with his last patient a little longer, and his neurology emergency department had been busier than usual for the time of night.

  And now he was here. Because Hetti had asked him to be and because, doctor in her own right or not, she was always going to be his baby sister.

  If he’d known Hetti’s call wasn’t about a patient but about dating he wouldn’t have bothered. Especially when she was giving him grief. Like right now.

  ‘Wow, the rumour mill will love that. Eligible bachelor Tak Basu attends one of the highest profile events of the year alone? Congratulations. I don’t think you could have come up with a better way to stir up the already feverish interest in your love-life, whilst simultaneously encouraging Mama to push you towards an arranged marriage of her preference.’

  ‘It’s precisely because of those reasons that I’m going alone,’ Tak growled—not that it had much effect on his unperturbed sibling. ‘I’ve had enough of being potentially married off to every woman I speak to, let alone date.’

  ‘Only because you’d rather be married to your career. The King of Awake Craniotomies—determined to be better than all the rest of us who want such humble things as relationships, and love, and someone to share their life with.’

  ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I never said I was better than anyone,’ Tak pulled a face.

  ‘No, but I know you think it. Still, as someone who is actually allowed to love you and want the best for you, I have to warn you that if you attend the gala alone then, despite your intentions, it will look like an advertisement for the fact that you’re shockingly single right now.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t.’

  ‘I know that. But every woman within a hundred-mile radius who fancies her chances is going to be beating down your door. And that’s a conservative estimate. Pretty stupid for an intelligent guy.’

  He laughed despite himself. ‘So, let me get this straight. Now you’re saying you want me to take some new trauma doctor to the ball for my benefit?’

  Hetti wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m saying you and Effie could be the perfect foil for each other. Neither of you wants a relationship, but you both need someone to keep would-be suitors at bay. And to buy you some time with Mama and the various so-called aunts who have a whole host of potential brides for you all lined up.’

  ‘Yes, this Effie woman might say she doesn’t want a relationship, but she will. They always do.’

  ‘Geez, big-headed, much? Watch you don’t get stuck in the doorway on your way out, won’t you?’

  Hetti thumped him hard in the arm. Or at least she tried to.

  She shook her hand and grimaced. ‘My God, they’re right. You really do have the body of a PT instructor rather than a doctor. No wonder you’re so ridiculously arrogant.’

  ‘Not arrogance,’ Tak hunched his shoulders. ‘At least not intentionally. It’s just fact. No matter how clear I try to be at the start that I’m not in it for a relationship which is going to lead to marriage down the line.’

  ‘Well, not this time. I’ve met her, and I’ve seen what she’s like with every guy who has tried to flirt with, bar none. She totally shoots them down. Nicely but firmly, no hesitation. Trust me—she is definitely not going to change her mind about wanting a relationship any time in the next lifetime or so.’

  ‘I don’t have to trust you.’ Eyeing the clock, Tak began to make his move. ‘I’m not doing it. Even for you, Little Hemavati.’

  She swatted him, laughing. ‘Only Mama calls me Hemavati. Just like she calls you Talank. It’s her twisted way of trying to show she’s in control. But at least wait and see Effie. You never know. You might actually like her. She’s focussed and driven—just like you. And she’s also pretty stunning.’

  ‘I’m going now.’

  Tak slung his bag onto his back and prepared to head out into the corridor just as the double doors on the other side of Resus banged open and the air ambulance crew burst through with their patient. The new doctor with them had to be this Effie person.

  Suddenly he realised he’d seen her once before. A couple of months ago when she’d brought in a forty-eight-year-old head injury patient—Douglas Jacobs, who had taken a tumble down a rocky hillside.

  ‘This is Danny, a male cyclist in his twenties,’ the young woman announced clearly, expediently, her eyes moving quickly across the resus team, taking in the faces and commanding them with ease. ‘About one hour ago he was travelling at approximately twenty-five miles per hour when a car pulled out of a side road in front of him. Danny tried to swerve but hit the car and was seen to be thrown about three metres into the air before striking the ground with some force.’

  Tak lowered his bag again, his attention focussed on the new doctor. He couldn’t have said what made him stay. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  Hetti had been right—although neither of them had realised it. Dr Effie Robinson had indeed impressed him. Along with Douglas Jacobs their patient.

  ‘He was wearing a crash helmet but it shattered on impact. Witnesses say he was unconscious for possibly ten seconds. On arrival GCS was nine.’

  There was nothing unusual in any of this. Not the patient, not the injuries, not the doctor. So why was he so transfixed? Watching her command the team in her bright orange flight suit, with her glossy hair—a rich, deep red colour—scraped back so severely and twisted so tightly into a bun that it made his eyes water just looking at it?

  Last time he’d seen her but hadn’t paid attention. He’d been too focussed on his patient. But this time it wasn’t his patient. And his attention was all on her.

  Why? Because she had red hair and blue eyes? Unusual, but hardly unique. So...what?

  There was nothing to soften her appearance—not even a hint of make-up. Yet there was no doubt that she was beautiful. And something else—something he couldn’t pinpoint, something innate that spilled out from those icy blue eyes. Despite himself, Tak found he was staring, caught up by her and helpless to do anything other
than stop and listen.

  She barely needed to pause and check her notes. Words flowed smoothly whilst her control of the situation was flawless. He had seen plenty of efficient, skilled air ambulance doctors but she stood out—just as she had a few weeks ago.

  There was no reason he should be edging closer, as though he was a latecomer to the team. Her gaze took in the team again, and then she lifted her eyes and connected with his.

  Everything stopped. Any thoughts in his head evaporated, leaving...nothing. It was like nothing that he’d ever experienced before.

  So this was Effie.

  He stared, unable to look away, and then, incredibly, she blinked once and moved on to the rest of the team. Her voice as steady, and as clear, as even as before. Whilst he felt, by contrast, as though his chest had just been belted by the downdraft from a set of helicopter rotor blades. It was an unfamiliar experience.

  ‘He has been intubated and has a right thoracotomy with a flailed segment. Top-to-toe injuries: closed head injury, a six-centimetre right temporal laceration, right clavicular fracture, suspected dislocated shoulder, suspected multiple rib fractures, right thoracotomy and a pelvic splint was applied. He’s had morphine and midazolam for sedation and was stable during transfer. Immediate needs are further assessment and imaging to check for internal organ damage.’

  She wrapped things up neatly, her gaze steady.

  ‘Okay, we’re going to need a whole-body CT, but he isn’t stable enough yet to take for imaging.’ Hetti stepped in smoothly. ‘Allison, what’s his BP and heart-rate?’

  Effie stepped back to allow the team to take over, nonetheless still on hand to answer any further questions. It was testament to both teams that the handover was seamless, and Effie was soon completing her final paperwork.

  Whilst he still stood there. Still watching her. His brain still struggling to get back into gear.

  The only thoughts rattling around his head now were echoes of Hetti’s words to him. Her ludicrous suggestion which wouldn’t have been out of place in a school playground.

  And yet here he was, unable to get it out of his head. As though, fittingly, he was nothing but a schoolboy. Yet he’d never been a schoolboy—at least not in that sense of the term.

  Even as a teenager he’d been the man of the house. Hetti was right—he had practically raised Hetti and Rafi and Sasha. Sometimes alongside their mother—or Mama as Hetti called her—but oftentimes in lieu of her. Especially after Baby Saaj had been born. Ill from the start, his two years on this earth had been a fight every second of every day.

  For years Tak had shielded his younger siblings from his father’s absences as much as possible. Listening to their mother offer up one convincing excuse after another, praising his father’s work as a doctor so they wouldn’t realise what a derelict father and cruel husband he was.

  The kind of man Tak never wanted to be like.

  Hetti might think it was because he was more interested in his career than in having a family, but she’d be wrong. At least she would only be partly right. Forging a career as the kind of neurosurgeon capable of performing a vast array of brain surgeries on awake patients automatically made him the worst kind of unreliable boyfriend. And he was happy with that.

  Even so, his career wasn’t the whole of it. The whole of it was that he feared being the kind of man whose selfish, self-centred actions hurt any wife, any child, the way his father had hurt them. Time and again. And the truth was that he would be that kind of man. However much he abhorred the thought, it was unavoidable. Inexorable. It was in his blood.

  Just as it was in Rafi’s blood.

  Much as he loved his younger brother, Tak wasn’t blind to the fact that Rafi was their father all over again. And Tak hated that. Yet here he was. Staring at this doctor as though he’d never seen anyone, anything quite like her before.

  It made no sense.

  There was something about her which snagged his attention and made him think she possessed a unique quality, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what that was. He told himself that he certainly wasn’t following the long, impossibly elegant line of her neck, or wondering what that glorious hair might look like free of its rigid net cage, or imagining what lay beneath that less than flattering orange suit.

  Still he didn’t move.

  Once Effie was done with her notes she’d be back to the heli and to her base, ready for the next shout. Which was a good thing. A great thing. It meant he could get past this crazy moment and back to real life.

  A life that didn’t include his baby sister interfering in his life and picking out potential dates for him, he reminded himself firmly. Least of all dates with a woman like Effie.

  Except hadn’t Hetti told him that it wouldn’t be a date? Not in any real sense of the word, anyway. What had she called them...the perfect foil for each other? Each of them using the other to keep the world off their back?

  It should sound ludicrous. It did sound ludicrous. But in between women taking his single status as evidence that of course he must be yearning for the perfect wife, and his mother becoming relentless in her desire to see all of her children settled down, even against their will, ludicrous might just work.

  It wasn’t as though he could simply turn around and tell Mama to stay out of his personal life, much as he might want to. She would always be too fragile, too weak to handle it—their father had made sure of that. And she might not have been the perfect mother, but at least she’d always been there.

  Hetti was right. He needed a foil. A distraction. Effie.

  Tak turned back to eye the new air ambulance doctor again just as she was finishing up her notes.

  As if it was meant to be. Effie. Dr Effie Robinson. He remembered her name now, from Douglas Jacobs’s notes. He narrowed his eyes for a moment.

  ‘Dr Robinson, I wonder if we could have a word? In private.’

  Copyright © 2019 by Charlotte Hawkes

  ISBN-13: 9781488047930

  Pregnant by the Playboy Surgeon

  First North American Publication 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Bev Riley

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