A Surgeon for the Single Mom

by Charlotte Hawkes

  If she’d punched him in the guts he couldn’t have felt any more winded. Effie had been a foster kid? She was so not what he might have expected of one. Although now he thought about it he had no idea what that might have been.

  He was only grateful that she continued.

  ‘You know one of the worst things about it? You always feel like you’re nothing and no one. And the older you get, the fewer families want you. Because they think you’re going to give them attitude. And maybe it’s true. But that’s only because you’re always made to feel like you should show more gratitude.’

  ‘Gratitude?’

  ‘Yes. And I was grateful—inside. But I also hated the fact that this was my life, so it was hard to be grateful when you saw what other kids—normal kids—got. So many foster families acted as though I should be doing cartwheels up and down the street in gratitude for a safe place to sleep, a warm bed, food on the table. It just reminded me of how different I was, because those were things that normal kids wouldn’t even think twice about.’

  ‘Is that why you were so resistant to take up my offer to come here?’ he asked quietly, unable to help himself. ‘Why you balked at my spending all that money at the silent auction?’

  As her jaw set, her eyes going a steely grey as though she was shutting down, he mentally kicked himself for allowing the words to come out of his mouth. She was going to pull even further away from him now. The knowledge saddened him far more than it had any right to do.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TAK WAS ABOUT to leave again when Effie suddenly hunched her shoulders lightly and—incredibly—answered him. Even if it sounded as though her mouth was struggling to form every single syllable.

  ‘I guess. Yes.’

  He waited a little longer, not about to make the same mistake again by pushing her.

  Still, it felt like an eternity before she rewarded him by elaborating, ‘It was the way you didn’t think twice about what would happen if you won all those lots. You could just...pay. I spent so many years worrying where my next meal came from—even before Nell came along.’

  ‘You’ve done an incredible job,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I guess...’

  Effie dipped her head slightly, and he was gratified that the words didn’t sound quite as stiff and awkward now. Almost as if she was beginning to trust him.

  ‘My flat might not be anything compared to this, but it’s mine. At least I pay the rent. I keep a roof over my kid’s head. I keep her warm and fed and happy, and I give her the things she needs. I suppose I felt as though coming here was an admission that I wasn’t a good enough mother.’

  ‘That boiler breaking down and your crappy landlord are no reflection on your ability as a mother.’

  ‘But they are.’ She lifted her head finally to meet his gaze and Tak stepped down the last couple of steps. ‘At least they feel as though they are. If I could afford somewhere better, a house of our own, I wouldn’t have to rely on some landlord. Or even if I could afford a better apartment closer to the helicopter base. Or even a car I could rely on if I lived further out.’

  ‘Effie, you’ve raised a child from the age of eighteen and managed to get through medical school—and not just at any university, but one of the top places in the world—as well as forge a career as a trauma doctor. You’ve proved yourself a good mother over and over again.’

  ‘And yet you’ve just walked in and seen me playing pool and I feel like a teenage kid caught red-handed again.’

  Red-handed? Tak frowned. ‘You weren’t allowed to go to youth club and shoot pool when you were a kid?’

  ‘It wasn’t a youth club.’

  A red stain crept over her skin and yet she kept talking to him. It suddenly occurred to him that this was Effie trusting him.

  ‘It was an adult snooker hall. When things were bad at home, or a foster home, it was sometimes better to be elsewhere. It was safer—and warmer—than a park bench.’

  ‘You slept on a park bench?’

  ‘A few times,’ she shrugged, and he wondered what that meant.

  Once? Five times? Twenty?

  ‘One night I realised I could sneak into the club and hang out in the warmth until at least two in the morning when it closed.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘At that time? I guess about thirteen. The same age that Nell is now.’

  Tak’s fists clenched, and it was all he could do not to identify the emotion which charged through him in that moment. ‘And no one noticed you?’

  ‘The owner did.’

  She shrugged, as though it was no big deal. As though she didn’t feel any of the anger which constricted his chest, choking off his ability to breathe with ease. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. All he could do was listen and wonder why it rattled him so much. Why this woman’s past got under his skin as it did.

  ‘But she turned a blind eye at first—except for warning some of the guys that if they went near me she’d kill them. Then, when my mum started going through her bad spells, and they became more frequent than not, she put a couch in a back office with what she called “leftovers”. She said it was hers, but that I could use it if she wasn’t in there.’

  ‘Let me guess—she only put it there for you to use?’ His smile was bittersweet.

  The woman’s kindness was touching, but the fact that Effie’s childhood had necessitated it was saddening. But for the circumstance of money they had both suffered because of weak mothers. How easily could this have been his life or his life been Effie’s?

  ‘Right.’ Effie lifted her head a little, as if she was making a point of not letting her memories pull her back under. ‘We both knew what she was doing, but neither of us ever said it aloud.’

  ‘So she was the one person who didn’t make you feel like you had to do cartwheels?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  Her voice sounded thicker. Clogged. He wanted to know more but he didn’t want to put her through it.

  ‘How long did that go on for?’

  ‘Every time my mother went through a bad patch I would go there, and Eleanor would see to it that I had food, clean clothes, a warm bed. Then, as the years went on, we began to talk—until eventually she gave me a key to her house and I could sneak in whenever things got bad at home.’

  ‘She wasn’t a foster parent, though?’

  ‘No, but she was the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever had. She was the one who saw I was bright but that I’d slipped behind because of my circumstances. She worked with me—even got on to one of the snooker players whose day job was a teacher to come and give me some private tuition. She paid him by giving him a year’s annual pass.’

  ‘She got you to believe in yourself?’ Tak realised.

  ‘Yes. I’d always dreamed of being a doctor—God knows where that came from—but she was the one who convinced me I could get into Oxford.’

  ‘So what happened?’ The need to understand burned so impossibly hot inside him. ‘Did she get mad about you getting pregnant with Nell?’

  He felt something shifted in an instant. He couldn’t shake the fear that Effie was about to shut down again. Thrust him away. But slowly, eventually, she lifted her gaze to his.

  ‘She never knew about Nell, Tak. Eleanor died two days after she’d received confirmation that she could officially adopt me. I went off the rails for a few months. I mean I really went all out. Which is when I fell pregnant.’

  The cruelty of it slammed into him with a truly brutal force. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. What words existed?

  ‘Eleanor was the first person who’d ever made me feel wanted. Cared for. Loved.’

  She shrugged. as though it was no big deal. and all of a sudden Tak appreciated the enormity of the weight Effie had been carrying around with her all these years. He understood why she didn
’t want anyone in her life. Why she felt as though she had to protect herself from any more heartbreak or rejection.

  He wasn’t even aware of closing the gap between them but suddenly there she was, in his arms, looking at him with a curious expression. He tried to make himself let go but it was impossible. Her inexplicable hold over him wouldn’t allow it.

  Effie watched, so still he didn’t think she was even breathing. Her eyes locked with his, as though she was searching for answers he didn’t want to give her, and he tried to block her out, stop her from seeing the truth. Stop her from realising just how desperately he wanted her.

  He made to move away from her just as she twisted towards him. The contact rocketed through them both.

  As her eyes widened with understanding Tak froze, very much afraid he was about lose his infamous control all over again. And that couldn’t happen. Whatever the attraction between the two of them, he certainly couldn’t give her what she needed. Hell, he would only detonate every rejection and insecurity she had ever had.

  He dropped his arms, though it cost him dearly to do so. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, but this time he injected it with every ounce of the regret and empathy he felt after hearing her story. As though he thought an apology for his own actions could somehow make it up to her for all the people in her life who should have apologised to her but hadn’t.

  ‘Why are you sorry?’

  The sweet, soft smile which curled her lips might as well have plunged into his heart and twisted it into a knot.

  ‘My past isn’t your problem.’

  ‘Then I’m sorry for those kisses.’

  ‘Sorry you kissed me?’ she challenged. ‘Or sorry you stopped?’

  ‘Don’t do this, Effie,’ he bit out.

  His body felt supercharged, and he was all too aware that if he weakened, if he kissed her again, this time he might never stop.

  ‘You actually meant it when you said it was more about you than about me.’ It was a statement more than a question. A recognition.

  ‘Effie...’ It was a whisper carried on his hot breath.

  She didn’t heed the warning. Instead she smiled, and it wrecked him like nothing he could ever have imagined. Then she closed the gap and lifted her mouth to his, and as the blood roared in his head like a waterfall, or a drumbeat deep in his veins, pumping around his body, he gave himself up to the intensity of the kiss.

  It was madness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care...

  * * *

  There was no escaping it.

  Not the kiss so much as the emotions which coursed through her as a result of it. And a heat so scorching it was almost white. Searing her from within and making her feel as if a thousand fires were all blazing inside her at once.

  Everywhere.

  Like nothing she’d ever known before.

  And then Tak used one hand to cup her cheek almost tenderly, skimming the other hand down her body, his fingertips igniting every inch of her as it moved. She forgot every superfluous thought and merely revelled in the sublimity of his touch, his kiss, the way his eyes glittered with undisguised hunger.

  He kissed her over and over, his tongue partnering hers in a sensual dance of their own, his teeth grazing her lips with just the perfect amount of pressure. He tilted his head for a better fit, a slicker fit. First one way and then the other, as if he needed to taste her thoroughly. Completely.

  Effie had never felt so desired. Not that she knew how to show it, and she was all too aware of her inexperience, expecting Tak to be put off at any moment. But he wasn’t. He just kept kissing her, holding her, helping her to relax with every delicious glide of his tongue. And all Effie could do was grip his shoulders—his strong, muscled shoulders, which only played even more havoc with her spinning, somersaulting insides—and hang on for the ride.

  Abruptly Tak lifted her up, carrying her easily back to the snooker table and perching her on it. She wasn’t sure what instinct made her wrap her legs around him, but there he was. The hardest part of him nestled against the softest part of her.

  ‘Better...’

  His thick-voiced murmur only sent her insides skittering all over again. She wasn’t sure how she found a way to respond. ‘Glad you approve.’

  ‘Oh, you have no idea.’

  His voice was like a hum, low and demanding, seeping through her flesh and reverberating around her body. And then he was slipping his T-shirt over his head, with hers following, and she could only savour the moment as he dipped his head and traced the line of her neck with his impossibly carnal tongue.

  ‘Tak...’ she breathed, scarcely recognising her own voice.

  He didn’t answer, instead dropping hot, sensual kisses behind her ear and into the oh-so-sensitive hollow by her throat.

  Effie gave herself up to it. To every single, incredible sensation screaming through her body, telling her that this—this—was what she’d been missing all these years. The way her entire body seemed to melt against his, moulding itself to him as though it had been handcrafted just for Tak.

  It felt like an age before he slid the thin strap of her bra down, his kisses blazing a trail over the creamy swell of her breast but stopping short and leaving her actually aching for more. She arched her back in silent objection and he actually managed a throaty chuckle. As if he liked teasing her this way.

  If she was honest, she liked him teasing her this way, too. Especially when he unhooked her bra with a deft flick of his wrist and drew it from her, lowering his mouth to take its place, closing over her tight nipple with something approaching reverence.

  Effie had no idea how long he stayed there, kissing and licking, his tongue swirling in intricate patterns, eliciting from her sounds which she’d never heard from herself before. He took his time, moving from one breast to the other and back again, unhurried and deliberate. An eternity of bliss.

  She couldn’t have moved or stopped him even if she’d tried. Even if she’d wanted to.

  At some point she arched into him, pressing closer against his length. Hot and steely. Unmistakable. For her. A tantalising shiver racked her body.

  And then he was stepping back, away from her.

  Effie’s eyes flew open. For a ghastly minute she thought he was leaving and her heart actually paused, like a trapeze artist flying through the air in that second before the audience knew whether she was going to be caught on the other side.

  Before she could think, however, Tak lifted her up and carried her over to the couch. He laid her down with a sort of gentleness, before reaching for her jeans to unhook them and slide them off in a single, smooth movement.

  The last scrap of lace followed and then she was naked. She might have expected to feel awkward or flustered, but Tak’s hooded expression stopped her from throwing her arms across her chest and instead lent her an air of unanticipated confidence.

  ‘Stunning,’ he breathed, his eyes raking over her body just as effectively as if they were his hands.

  ‘Now it’s your turn,’ she said, and there was a hoarse pitch to her voice.

  He stepped towards her, then stopped himself. ‘Are you on the pill?’

  ‘Sorry?’ The question jarred her.

  ‘The pill?’ he pressed, his urgency offering her a crumb of relief.

  She bit her lip, offering a curt shake of her head. How had that not even entered her head? ‘No. I haven’t needed it.’

  ‘You haven’t needed protection?’ he frowned.

  Her cheeks burned. ‘No. Yes. It’s just... I haven’t... Not since Nell was conceived...’

  If he was surprised, he hid it well. Closing the space between them again, he let his hands cradle either side of her face, dropping a long, deep kiss on her lips.

  ‘Then we’re just going to have to find a different way,’ he murmured, setting tiny kisses at the corners of her mouth and back
down her neckline.

  As his hands moved over her body, slightly callused thumbs flickering expertly over the straining pink buds of her nipples, all other thoughts slid out of her head. And then his hand traced down her body from her long throat, over her breasts to her stomach, and finally to her aching core. He nestled his head between her thighs.

  Effie froze. She wasn’t completely naïve. She knew what he was about to do. But a part of her brain still couldn’t process it. No one had ever done this to her before. Sex with Nell’s father had been fumbled, missionary. Two kids who’d had no real idea what they were doing. Not like this. Not like him.

  ‘Tak.’ Her voice was tense even to her ears.

  ‘Relax,’ he soothed, kissing his way up the inside of one thigh. ‘I’ve been dreaming about tasting you since the first moment I saw you.’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘Relax,’ he murmured again as he moved over to the other thigh. His grin was nothing short of devilish.

  ‘Tak, listen...’

  And then he licked his way into her and a thousand fireworks went off in her head all at once. Long, slow strokes of his tongue were followed by darting little licks which had her lips moving entirely of their own volition, her hands reaching down to his hair. She slid her fingers into the thick depths, urging him on as if she couldn’t help herself.

  Frankly, she couldn’t.

  She wanted Tak so badly that it almost scared her.

  And for his part he seemed to read her mind, knowing what she needed from him even before she knew it herself. His tongue was like a weapon, conquering her and inflaming her all at once, whipping her up until she felt she couldn’t take any more. And then he eased back long enough for her to catch her breath before stoking her up all over again.

  Effie was powerless to stop him. Not that she really wanted to. Beneath his mouth her hips rocked and lifted, as if she couldn’t get enough of him—and perhaps she couldn’t. Perhaps she never wanted this to end. But then he was driving her on, driving her upwards to where it was dazzling and spinning, and she knew there was no coming back from it this time.