Can their unexpected reunion...
...become a longed-for family?
In this London Heroes story, Dr. Alistair Duvall’s stunned when ex-wife Raina Elliot walks back into his life, needing help for her daughter, who has an amputation. After the heartbreak of losing their own baby, Alistair’s not prepared for the adorable little girl to capture his heart. And seeing Raina again rekindles a spark that never quite died... Can Raina convince him he can be the husband and father he wants to be?
London Heroes
Now it’s their turn to be rescued by love!
Doctors Gabriel DeMarco and Alistair Duvall founded The Watchlight Trust to help people get their lives back on track after they’ve been through life-changing trauma. And they work tirelessly to ensure their research can reach as many people as possible!
But when their own lives are knocked off course, they find themselves in need of a little help of their own... And it’s about to arrive in the form of two women who are determined to prove that love is the best medicine of all.
Discover Gabriel’s story in
Falling for Her Italian Billionaire
And Alistair’s story in
Second Chance with the Single Mom
Both available now!
Dear Reader,
A second chance! It’s a rare and precious thing, and there are a couple things that I’d go back to do differently the second time around. But there are also times when I know a second chance wouldn’t make any difference—I may regret the way things turned out but I know that there’s no way that I’d do anything different if faced with the situation again.
Alistair Duvall and Raina Elliot have their second chance, but neither of them believes that anything’s changed in the five years since they’ve last seen each other. Spending time together merely opens old wounds and they’re both hoping that they can get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. Even if they could rekindle the love they shared, they’re both convinced that a romance would still have the same unhappy ending.
Or would it...?
Thank you for reading Alistair and Raina’s story, which is the second in the London Heroes duet. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers, and you can contact me via my website at annieclaydon.co.uk.
Annie x
Second Chance with the Single Mom
Annie Claydon
Books by Annie Claydon
Harlequin Medical Romance
Single Dad Docs
Resisting Her English Doc
Stranded in His Arms
Rescued by Dr. Rafe
Saved by the Single Dad
The Doctor She’d Never Forget
Discovering Dr. Riley
The Doctor’s Diamond Proposal
English Rose for the Sicilian Doc
Saving Baby Amy
Forbidden Night with the Duke
Healed by the Single Dad Doc
From Doctor to Princess?
Firefighter’s Christmas Baby
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
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To Joan, with love.
Praise for Annie Claydon
“This is such a beautiful story filled with lots of emotion as two people get a second chance at love and one that is so well deserved.”
—Goodreads on Rescued by Dr. Rafe
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM HER SECRET MIRACLE BY DIANNE DRAKE
CHAPTER ONE
THE BENCH WAS shaded by trees, making it a pleasant place to sit on this hot summer’s day. Raina Eliott was feeling anything but comfortable.
She could see the doorway of The Watchlight Trust’s headquarters from her vantage point in the small leafy square, surrounded by three-storey Georgian houses, most of which had been converted to offices. She’d been watching it for the last hour, trying to pluck up the courage to go inside.
Asking a charity for help wasn’t so difficult, was it? Nice people worked for charities. People who understood. But when one of those nice people who understood happened to be your ex-husband, everything became so much more complicated.
If she’d been asking for herself then it would have been simple. Raina would have hesitated at the door, and then walked away. But she’d promised to do her best for Anya, and at the moment, The Watchlight Trust wasn’t just the best option, it was about the only option.
‘Call yourself a mother?’ She muttered the words to herself. Calling herself a mother was about the only good thing that had happened in the last few years, and was usually accompanied by a tingle of pleasure and the temptation to gather Anya up in her arms and hug her tight. And if she did call herself a mother then she had to do anything for her child, however difficult it was. She’d completed the charity’s application form, and added all the supporting documents. Delivering them was just a matter of dropping them off at the reception desk.
She pulled the large manila envelope from her bag, staring at the address she’d written.
Alistair Duvall, Director
The Watchlight Trust
That was the stumbling block. Should she ask to speak to Alistair, to explain? And what exactly was there to explain? That she wouldn’t have got back in touch with him after five years if it hadn’t been for Anya? That she hoped he’d put their shared history out of his mind?
‘Do it. Just deliver the envelope.’ It wouldn’t make any difference whether she spoke to Alistair or not, he’d know who she was as soon as he read the application. If he had a problem with working with his ex-wife then he’d just reject it.
Raina got to her feet, catching her breath as the door of The Watchlight Trust’s offices opened. Two women appeared, stopping on the steps to talk to the man behind them. Alistair.
Still as handsome. Dark blond hair, cut a little shorter now and it suited him. He was smiling, and Raina imagined that the quiet warmth in his golden eyes was still there. His shirt was open at the neck, the sleeves rolled up, and just the sight of him made her feel as if her heart had stopped.
Alistair had followed the women down the steps, still talking, and they’d parted on the pavement. He looked at his watch and then made his way in the opposite direction. Maybe her heart had stopped, because Raina stumbled, zombie-like and unthinking, across the road towards him.
‘Alistair...’ His name caught in her throat and he kept walking. One more try...
She caught up with him, brushing his arm with her fingers. Alistair turned and she saw shock contort his face.
‘Raina?’ The idea that he would feel nothing at seeing her again was now impossible. He was staring at her, as if he’d just seen a ghost.
Raina swallowed hard. ‘Alistair... I’m on my way to deliver something to you...’
Raina didn’t blame him for looking at the envelope with mistrust. The last envelope she’d sent him
had been their divorce papers. There was nothing for it but to grasp the nettle, however much it stung.
‘I... It’s an application form. I have a daughter, Anya, and I want to apply to have her included on the prosthetics project that you’re running with The Watchlight Trust. If you can forgive me enough to look at it, that is...’ Suddenly it seemed more than she had any right to ask.
‘I should be the one asking for your forgiveness.’ He was looking at her thoughtfully.
‘I don’t think that’s true.’ She shivered in the heat of the sun. Alistair might not want to talk about it, but neither of them could deny that she was the one who’d walked out on him.
Suddenly he came to his senses. This was the Alistair she knew, a man who could make the right decision in a moment, and would always use his humanity in doing so.
‘If your daughter needs us, then we’re here for her, Raina. Nothing else matters.’
‘Thank you. Anya’s three years old, she’ll be four soon and...’ Raina saw a pulse begin to beat at the side of Alistair’s eye. The maths wasn’t difficult, and Anya had been conceived just months after their divorce.
Raina took a breath. She needed to start at the beginning, however much that beginning hurt. ‘She’s Andrew and Theresa’s child. They were killed in the same road accident where Anya lost her left hand and part of her forearm. I’ve adopted her.’
Alistair’s eyes flared with shock and then softened again. ‘I’m so sorry, Raina. I liked your brother and his wife very much, they were good people.’
‘I...should have let you know...about the accident. I’m sorry...’
‘You had more than enough to deal with. Don’t give it another thought.’
Raina was trembling so much that all she could do was to hold out the envelope, hoping that Alistair would take it. He looked at his watch again, as if maybe that would tell him something, and gave her a tight smile.
‘Look, I’ve just got out of a long meeting, and I was about to pick up a sandwich. Why don’t you walk with me? I’d like to hear a bit more about Anya and what you feel she needs from us. Then give me that.’ He gestured towards the envelope.
‘Yes. Thank you, Alistair.’ Raina stuffed the envelope back into her bag, and he began to walk towards the coffee shop at the far corner of the square.
Alistair must need to gather his thoughts as well. She had presented him with one shock after another, and it was hardly fair. He was silent, clearly dealing with it all in the way that Alistair always dealt with things. Quiet, measured and uncommunicative.
He held the door of the coffee shop open for her, and the coolness of the air-conditioning made her shiver. Sitting on a park bench and drinking takeaway coffee for an hour was catching up on her, and Raina excused herself, making a welcome dash for the ladies’ room.
‘That’s the worst of it over...’ She whispered the words as confidently as she could, trying to persuade her own reflection in the mirror over the basin. But the reflection was having none of it and Raina couldn’t help but agree. Something told her that she hadn’t even scratched the surface yet.
The divorce had been bitter. Raina’s pregnancy had been unexpected, and her own joy had blinded her to Alistair’s concerns about whether they were ready, and how they would manage financially. Then sudden pain had turned into the nightmare of discovering that the pregnancy was ectopic and the baby couldn’t be saved. Alistair had retreated into himself, showing only concern for Raina and hardly mentioning their lost child. The suspicion that he might think, deep down, that this was all for the best had poisoned everything, and as she’d recovered her strength, Raina had raged at him, venting her own pain.
It was only after she’d left him that Raina had found out about the infection. It had meant that one of her fallopian tubes had had to be removed, and since the other was partially blocked, she’d be unlikely to ever conceive again. And now she had to go out there and persuade Alistair that she could work with him, and he should give Anya the chance she so badly needed. Raina splashed cool water onto her cheeks, dabbing them dry with a tissue from her bag.
She’d thought that Alistair might spend the time choosing a sandwich, but instead he was holding two cups of takeaway coffee. Putting one into her hand, he gestured towards the door.
‘Would you mind if we walked? I’ve been shut up inside all morning...’
‘Walking would be nice.’ At least it would give her something to do with her feet. And the coffee would give her something to do with her hands. All she needed to worry about now was her tongue. She took a sip of the coffee. Plenty of frothed milk and a little sugar. It should be no surprise that Alistair remembered the way she liked it, but still it was a shock, reminding Raina of the scale of the task she’d taken on. Being with Alistair would be an exercise in remembering all the things she’d tried so hard to forget.
* * *
Alistair had almost jumped out of his skin when he’d seen Raina. How many times had he thought he’d glimpsed her in a crowd, and then looked again to find it wasn’t her? But this was no ghost.
Alistair guessed that if she’d had any options that didn’t involve him, she would have taken them. He should remember that. Despite her obvious agitation, she looked well. When he’d last seen her she’d had rings of fatigue under her eyes, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. But now she was more the way he’d first seen her, a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty who’d taken his breath away. Divorce clearly suited her.
It was a bitter thought. It knocked him off balance even more than the music in the coffee shop, which rendered him almost completely deaf and had changed his mind about sitting down to talk. He needed to be able to hear everything that Raina was saying.
The pavement was only a little better, but if they avoided the main roads, the traffic noise wouldn’t be too distracting. If he stayed on her left side, then his ‘good’ ear could catch most of what she said.
‘You’ve read about the project on our website?’ Of course she had. Raina was nothing if not thorough.
She nodded a yes, maybe voicing it too, and Alistair slowed his pace to a stroll. Watching the words form on her lips would help fill in the gaps in his hearing.
‘Then you’ll know that this project marks the start of a new and important expansion in the activities of The Watchlight Trust. Up till now, our primary focus has been on helping people in the accident and rescue services, but we’ve always known that many of the techniques we use have a much wider application. My co-director, Gabriel DeMarco, and I have been working towards realising that potential for some time now.’
He was practically quoting from the website, and she’d read that already. But in a world that had suddenly turned upside down he might be forgiven for finding a few solid facts reassuring.
‘Our development team is currently housed in our offices, and we have medical services based at our own clinic next door. Our long-term aim is to create a separate division of the charity, whose remit is to explore innovative technologies and make them available to patients.’
‘It’s a bold step. And one that will benefit a lot of people.’
Alistair had thought so too. And then sudden hearing loss had turned his working day into a miasma of half-heard sentences, a constant struggle to keep up. Gabriel had done his best to help, but it had only made Alistair feel even more useless, relegated to standing by and watching while others made the bold steps that it took to realise the project that meant so much to him.
But now he had a purpose. Raina was unaware of the nature of the challenge she’d thrown at him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rise to it and find a way to help her.
‘We’re still refining our product and procedures, and we’re hoping to be able to learn with the parents and children we select for the pilot project.’
‘I’d welcome the chance to learn, and to contribute as much as I’m able as well.’
/> Staring at her lips had its disadvantages. He could make out what she was saying better, but it reminded Alistair of all the other times he’d studied her face. Locked in each other’s arms, immersed in each other...
Enough! There was no going back, and the present was more than enough to deal with. Alistair forced his thoughts back to the child. She was what mattered.
‘Has your daughter been fitted with a prosthetic yet?’
‘Yes, six months ago. It took some time for it to be made, and the first one she was given didn’t fit properly, so we had to wait again for it to be adjusted. By the time we did get it right, Anya was determined she didn’t want it, however much we tried to encourage her. 3D printing is a much faster and more flexible process and I think it may be more appropriate for Anya’s needs.’
‘So tell me why you think she should have one.’ Alistair stopped walking, facing her so that he could concentrate on Raina’s answer. It was the question he’d asked every parent and he’d received a variety of replies.
Raina smiled, suddenly sure of herself. ‘I don’t think she should do anything. I want her to have a choice about if and when she uses a prosthetic, and she won’t have that choice unless she learns what she can do with one. She’s starting to reach out into the world, and I want her to know about the different options she has.’
Raina pressed her lips together, tilting her jaw slightly. The look was so familiar to him that Alistair had to swallow a smile. Raina had made up her mind, and she was challenging him to disagree, but what she wanted for her daughter was exactly in line with his own thinking.
‘That’s our approach too. We believe that the speed and low cost of 3D pr0.inting can help us address some of the issues involved with children who have previously rejected prosthetics, but we’re not limiting our expectations to any one outcome.’
‘Neither am I. I just want...’ A car roared past, drowning out the rest of the sentence.
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