A Surgeon with a Secret

by Alison Roberts

  She knew perfectly well that she was breaking rules. That having a sexual relationship with her employer was completely unprofessional but...she was hooked and it seemed like Lachlan was equally caught and it was just as unprofessional from his side of the equation, wasn’t it? It was a shared guilt but there was also an unspoken but shared excuse that made it less of an issue. Lachlan had made it very clear that his relationships were only ever short-lived and he knew it was the same for Flick. That they would only have a short time together because he would head back to his London life soon enough and she would move on to another locum position.

  Given the effort that Lady Josephine was putting into her own care since the shock of the confrontation with Lachlan, it seemed quite likely that a full-time carer would not be needed in this house for much longer. Lady Josephine’s confession about her past had changed something that made Flick wonder if that had been the first time she had ever spoken about the grief of losing her own babies and feeling unable to love her adopted son.

  The shock of recognising how much damage had been done could have made the older woman withdraw even more into herself but, somehow, the opposite seemed to be happening. Was Lachlan’s mother trying to find a way to make an apology? Or, at the very least, not be a burden?

  Whatever it was, it was making a big difference. Lady Josephine was taking control of her own medications and monitoring, like performing her own finger prick tests to measure her level of blood glucose. Her use of the preventative medication for her asthma had meant she hadn’t had another attack and she was exercising more and more. She was giving Flick dancing lessons in the ballroom almost every day. She was walking in the gardens and had even ventured into the woodland yesterday. There was a tiny vase on her table right now that had a few bluebells in it.

  Flick would never see or smell these flowers again without being able to feel what it had been like to be in Lachlan’s arms. As Lady Josephine recorded her BGL in her medical diary, Flick found herself reaching for the vase, so that she could pick it up and hold it close to her nose and soak in that gorgeous scent and it was at that moment that she realised she’d been very wrong about something. Two things, in fact.

  She’d thought she’d know when it was time to run.

  She’d thought she had a choice about whether or not she was going to fall in love with Lachlan McKendry.

  But the rush of emotion as she breathed in the scent of being held in Lachlan’s arms told her just how wrong she’d been. This wasn’t just the scent of new beginnings for her. It was the scent of being cared for.

  Being loved...

  And returning love...

  She knew, at that instant, that she was way past the point of no return on both her assumptions and she had no idea what she was going to do about it. She couldn’t simply run and leave her patient before she knew she could look after herself. And she couldn’t fall out of love, could she?

  Perhaps Lady Josephine noticed the slight tremble in her fingers as she carefully put the vase down again.

  ‘Lachlan used to bring me big bunches of bluebells when he was a little boy.’

  ‘He told me that.’ Flick met her gaze. She didn’t say anything about how it had made Lachlan feel when his offerings had been rejected but there was a new level of trust between the two women and a growing ability to communicate by saying very little.

  ‘I couldn’t bear it,’ the older woman added softly. ‘They smelt like tears...’

  Flick’s heart was breaking for her. She had wanted to love her adopted son but she’d been pushed past the point of endurance and forced to find a safe place.

  She was in desperate need of at least understanding, if forgiveness wasn’t possible.

  Flick had to hope the right moment to talk to Lachlan about this would present itself soon—in a way that would mean he wouldn’t push her away and slam the door. With the disturbing revelation of how deeply she was now involved—how deeply she was in love with Lachlan—the prospect of breaking that connection had just become a whole lot bigger. So huge, Flick felt a trickle of fear shimmy down her spine.

  ‘He needs time,’ she said aloud. ‘I know how hard it is but... I think everybody needs more time to get their heads around it all.’

  Including herself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TONIGHT WAS ONE of the nights Lachlan had something to do to prepare for a training session at Gloucester General Hospital the next day.

  ‘Has Tilly gone home already?’

  ‘Yes...why? Are you hungry?’

  ‘No. I ate in town. I had an appointment with a butcher. I don’t think Tilly would be happy to have this in the fridge overnight so it’s good that she’s gone home.’ He put down the two, large cool boxes. ‘Want to see?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘It’s for a workshop that’s lined up for tomorrow. Advanced suturing. In particular, running subcuticular sutures.’ Lachlan only met Flick’s gaze briefly as he lifted out a small section of pig skin from the bags he was fitting into the fridge. He knew if he caught that gaze for too long, he’d forget all about anything he needed to do this evening because the only thing that would be filling his mind would be how soon he could get Flick alone—in his bedroom.

  What had started unexpectedly in the confusion of his world being upended had changed into something that he just couldn’t get enough of. He couldn’t call it ‘Fun’ exactly, because that was far too pale a word to come anywhere near describing what it was like to make love with Flick. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him and it had come when he’d needed it the most. A lifeline that he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet. But, right now, it would have to wait and this was a good test to see if he could ignore the temptation.

  Flick was peering at the skin. ‘What’s happened to it?’

  ‘We gave it a nice, jagged laceration. The butcher found a metal tool that was perfect for the job and he was only too happy to help me prepare the samples. I’ve got some with nice, neat surgical incisions but what I really want to teach in the workshop is how you can make a wound as messy as this into a candidate for the suture technique that gives the best possible cosmetic result. I just need to check that it’s going to work.’ He opened his satchel to take out a suture kit.

  Lachlan could feel Flick watching him as he set up a board to use on the kitchen table and he knew she was genuinely interested in what he was telling her. He liked that. He also liked the feeling of control he had right now because it gave him confidence that the strength of his desire for Flick wasn’t going to end up being a problem. He’d be able to walk away when he needed to, just as he had done with every relationship he’d ever had with a woman.

  ‘So, some people argue that tissue adhesive gives just as good, if not a better result but there are times when glue isn’t going to be enough to hold things together and this is a great technique to have up your sleeve.’

  He picked up a needle with its attached thread. ‘The secret is to decontaminate a wound very thoroughly and then make the edges straight.’

  Flick was sitting on the edge of the chair beside him, leaning in to watch what he was doing. ‘How do you do that? There are no straight edges at all.’

  ‘Like this... I’m using a whip stitch and taking the smallest possible bites to bring the edges together.’ Years of perfecting his skills enabled him to work swiftly and precisely. ‘Then I’m going to use the scalpel and run it down one side of the line of stitching and then the other and...voila...’ He lifted the thin, jagged segment of skin clear, leaving two straight clean edges.

  ‘Okay, I’m impressed.’

  ‘But wait...’ Lachlan grinned at her. ‘There’s more.’

  With a new suture, he anchored a stitch at one end of the laceration and then took tiny bites parallel to the wound, just under the surface of the skin. When he got to the other end, he anchored another knot int
o the deeper, dermal layer and buried it under the skin by taking the needle out a little way away from the end of the cut. When he snipped the thread, it retracted under the skin and all the suture material was completely invisible and the edges of the laceration were in perfect alignment.

  ‘That would barely leave a scar at all in real skin, would it?’

  ‘That’s the plan. Doesn’t work if there’s too much tension, of course. Or on thin skin like an eyelid but it has its place. I’ve got a good group coming tomorrow. GPs, surgeons and ED staff. Some nurses doing advanced training as well.’

  ‘I started my nursing career in Emergency.’ Flick sounded thoughtful. ‘Maybe I should see if I can get my next locum gig in an ED. I miss this kind of stuff.’

  ‘Why not a permanent job instead of a locum? That way, you could get to do some advanced training, maybe, and go to cool workshops like mine.’

  He couldn’t read her expression but it reminded him of when she’d stopped herself saying something that day he’d taken her to see the bluebells. As if she’d thought better of whatever it was she’d intended to say.

  Was she wondering whether she might actually prefer to settle somewhere for a while? To stop running? It would be a good thing if she was because she deserved to start that new chapter in her life. One that might even make up for the sadness she’d had to live with.

  There was certainly a hint of wariness in those gorgeous, blue eyes and her lips were parted, ready to speak. Or to kiss... This time, Lachlan caught her gaze and kept holding it until he saw that wariness replaced by desire as her eyes darkened and the tip of her tongue came out to touch her lips. In slow motion, perhaps because they were both savouring every heartbeat of the anticipation, they leaned closer. Until their lips were touching. Until the kiss stole any remnants of that control Lachlan had thought he’d had.

  But it didn’t matter.

  He knew it would be there when he needed it again and he didn’t need it yet. Who wouldn’t want to make the most of this while it lasted and who knew how long that might be?

  * * *

  The skills Lachlan had demonstrated when he’d been showing Flick the suture technique he intended teaching had been impressive.

  The skills he demonstrated in her bed a short time later were even more impressive. Or maybe it didn’t take that much skill when even the lightest touch of his hands on her body was enough to take Flick to a place where nothing else mattered. Where passion could explode with such power but so gently it was heart-breaking.

  This wasn’t the first time that Flick had felt a tear trickling down the side of her nose as she lay in Lachlan’s arms as their breathing and heart rates slowly returned to normal and they came back to the real world, but it was the first time that she understood why this was so poignant.

  It was because she was in love with Lachlan.

  Because—even though she had told him she could never risk this kind of love when it came with the potential of devastating loss—it had happened anyway.

  And she wanted this feeling for ever.

  The feeling that she knew she could only ever have if she was in this man’s arms.

  And she knew it couldn’t be for ever because he’d spelt it out, that day in the bluebell wood.

  He’s the same as me with women—any hint of something permanent being wanted and we’re running for the hills...

  The day that she should have told him what she knew about his mother. Flick’s heart rate picked up again as she summoned enough courage to do what she should have done then.

  ‘You asleep?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Not yet.’ Lachlan’s arms tightened around Flick. ‘I should be. Can’t believe how tiring this training programme is proving to be.’

  ‘It’s not as if it’s the only thing you’ve got going on in your life. I’m not surprised it’s hard work.’

  ‘I feel like I’m pushing something very heavy uphill half the time. Life’s just got too complicated. Too different.’ With her cheek against Lachlan’s chest, she could feel that his heart missed a beat. ‘I’ve got a brother now. Real family and that’s making me have to think about the future and that’s not something I’ve ever done. Not in personal terms, anyway. Career, yes. Family, no. Because I didn’t think I had a family.’

  ‘But you do...’ Flick’s thoughts were threatening to run in a different direction. If Lachlan was starting to think about a future that included family, could that mean he might consider changing his stance when it came to relationships with women? With her?

  ‘I had a meeting with Josh today. I’m doing a nerve transplant surgery on one of his patients—a two-year-old boy called Toby who’s lost effective use of one arm after breaking his collarbone and doing some significant damage to the brachial plexus network of nerves. And—’ Flick could hear a smile in his voice ‘—he reminded me that I’d suggested we have a night out for dinner, including his friend Stevie, some time. As a kind of “thank you” for the way she saved us from having to meet for the first time in front of a whole bunch of people.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to take you out somewhere nice because you deserve a proper night off,’ he added. ‘So how ’bout it? Dinner at one of the best restaurants the Cotswolds has to offer?’

  ‘Sounds fabulous,’ Flick said. ‘And...speaking of dinner, I need to tell you that your mother’s decided to stop eating dinner in her room. She’s going to come down and start using the dining room again. I think she’s really hoping that you might join her one night.’

  The silence from Lachlan was a warning that he didn’t want to talk about this but Flick had to ignore it.

  ‘There’s something else I have to tell you. That I should have told you as soon as I knew but I was worried that you might think I was interfering or that it might be too much on top of everything else and you’d just leave. I... I didn’t want you to leave...’

  Oh, man...that was almost a confession that she was in love with him, wasn’t it? She could feel how still Lachlan was and the odd tension in his muscles that was holding him like that.

  ‘I told you that I lost my baby,’ Flick said quietly. ‘So I know how hard it was that your mother lost a baby. Not just one baby. Three of them. Three boys, one after the other. I think it must have been something genetic that caused it. She had her heart completely broken by the first death of the baby she’d loved and nurtured for three months. By the time she had a very late miscarriage—like mine—with her third baby, she was past being able to grieve. And that was when your father arranged for your adoption. Can you imagine what it was like for her to be expected to become a loving mother to a child who wasn’t her own—and at a time when she must have felt that life wasn’t even worth living?’

  Lachlan slipping his arm from beneath Flick’s head as he sat up in her bed felt like her worst fears were about to come true. He was going to push her away and simply walk out. She bit her lip as she heard him blow out a stunned breath.

  * * *

  ‘Wow...’ Lachlan was silent for a long moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. ‘I never knew.’ There was a fight going on in his head now. Or was it his heart? He could feel the yearning he’d had to be loved as a small boy and the pain of never feeling good enough battling with his empathy for someone who’d been through such a devastating experience.

  ‘I feel sorry for her, of course,’ he added, ‘but I can’t promise it’s going to change how I feel about her. Or how I remember my childhood.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s another thing I have in common with Josh in a way, isn’t it? His adopted family had their “real” son after he was adopted. Mine had them before but the result’s been remarkably similar, hasn’t it? Two people who don’t trust in family or want to risk trying to make their own.’

  He didn’t want to think about it any longer because this was yet another revelation that was shaking the foundations of his life. Lachlan
needed a distraction. Fast.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked. ‘Hanging on the back of your door?’

  He hadn’t noticed it when he’d pushed the door shut behind them. Why would he have when all he’d been able to think about had been Flick and what they were about to do. Every time, he wondered whether their lovemaking could possibly be as good as the last time and he was always astonished that it could actually be better. He knew exactly what kind of touch would elicit those delicious sounds of a need that matched his own and how to keep Flick teetering on the brink of paradise until she begged for release. Tonight, he’d even managed to time it so that they fell over the edge together, which was yet another new and amazing experience for Lachlan.

  ‘It’s a ball gown,’ Flick told him. ‘I haven’t worn it yet, because I decided I needed to know how to dance a lot better first, but I got it out because I thought I might be able to wear it for my lesson tomorrow.’

  Oh...this was the perfect distraction even if he was so tired it felt like he needed to sleep for a week. Lachlan didn’t want to go back to his own room yet, though. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

  ‘Wear it now,’ he said softly, bending down to kiss Flick’s lips.

  He saw her tongue come out to lick her bottom lip—as if she wanted to taste him again—and that created a flash of pleasure that was sharp enough to puncture the cloud of confused thoughts vying for time in his head.

  His smile was intended to persuade her. ‘Wear it for me,’ he whispered.

  He watched her getting out of the bed, taking the dress from its plastic package and stepping into it. He got up himself, so that he could pull the zip up at the back. Knowing that she had no underwear on beneath those slippery ripples of fabric was arousing him all over again. This was certainly the best distraction ever.