by Sue MacKay
Abby tugged her blouse down over her hips and crossed to read the arrivals screen. Just where was this guy who had her little household all in a twitter? And who made her head spin with worry?
Kieran peered through the window down onto the glittering sea of horseshoe-shaped Tasman Bay. What a damned long way to come for two months’ work. But he’d have gone to Siberia if that’s what it took to please the chairman of the Board and further his own career. He sighed. He still didn’t understand why the old boy thought it necessary for him to take a secondment overseas before he put in his application for head of the emergency department of Mercy Hospital in Dublin.
He’d been heading to Adelaide, Australia, for his secondment until this one in New Zealand had suddenly appeared. Adelaide had been the obvious choice. A much larger facility with higher patient numbers, which would look good on his CV. But Nelson required someone urgently as the current head of department had a very ill child needing care in Australia. Something about a liver transplant.
Even then Kieran had resisted, but whenever he’d glanced at the travel brochure on Nelson an image of a woman and one heated night of passion, the likes of which he’d never known before or since, had kept flicking across his mind.
Abigail. She lived in Nelson. Not that he intended picking up where they’d left off that night. No, thank you. That was a road to disaster. But the mental pictures of her and that one night had caused him to fill in the wrong set of papers.
Don’t forget Olivia. It had broken his heart to watch her at the airport in Dublin, clinging to Abigail’s hand as she had disappeared from his life through the bland doors of Immigration. Even knowing he’d done the best thing for Olivia hadn’t made the pain any easier. He missed his sister, and Olivia was the only connection he had left to her. Two losses in one week had been horrendous. But no way would he change the arrangement. Olivia was far better off living with Abigail.
Kieran’s hands clenched against his thighs as the plane shook and bucked. Why couldn’t the pilot fly it in a straight line? Sweat slithered down between his shoulder blades, plastering his shirt to his skin.
A gnarled hand tapped his forearm. ‘It’s a bit bumpy, isn’t it, dear?’
Kieran flicked a glance sideways at the elderly lady sitting beside him, her crotchet momentarily still in her lap. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the turbulence. A benevolent smile and sparkling, washed-out blue eyes focused on him.
‘Just a little,’ he concurred, dragging out a smile.
‘We won’t be long now.’
‘I certainly hope not.’ He peered out the window looking for a distraction. But his mind quickly turned back to Abigail.
Of course, if he’d known of the bombshell she had been about to drop on him he’d definitely have chosen Adelaide. His muscles tensed. Would he? Truly? He shrugged, trying to ignore the multitude of questions that had buzzed around his skull since that phone call from her. Now here he was, minutes away from landing in her town. He shivered. Nelson. Where a whole bundle of difficult issues and decisions awaited him. And none of them medical.
A son. Abigail said the lad looked like him. Some alien emotion stirred within his chest, a feeling he didn’t recognise. Surely not curiosity? Or pride?
Was it the familiar fear that he’d let Olivia down? And now Seamus? But how did a man who’d never experienced love from his parents love his own child? As his father had said often enough, he’d make a terrible parent. He didn’t have it in him to love and care for children. The sooner he explained so that Abigail understood, the sooner her expectations about his role in the children’s lives would disappear. For ever.
Just grand. He’d been coming for work, and now that had been pushed to the back of his mind with thoughts of Abigail and the children, making him feel rattled. Inadequate, even.
At least he’d be busy putting in long hours covering for staff on leave over Christmas and New Year. Apparently this was the time of year that Kiwis took their major holidays, spending weeks at the beaches, out in the mountains or following major sports events. At least there’d be time to get used to the idea of being a father and to decide how to deal with it.
‘Don’t bother. You’ll make a mess of parenting, like you make a mess of most things in your life.’ His father’s voice slammed into his brain. The words that had spurred him to become an exceptional emergency specialist.
Bitterness soured his mouth as the old litany made its umpteenth rerun in his skull. He wasn’t good at looking out for people he cared about. He’d known that since the day when Morag, his sister, had tripped and broken her ankle during a student party in his flat. She’d wrecked her chances at the European ski championships. In a blind fury their father had unfairly laid the blame firmly at Kieran’s feet, telling him he was incapable of thinking of anyone except himself.
A fact his father had taken great delight in rubbing in again when Kieran’s girlfriend at the time had miscarried. Kieran had been working late and hadn’t had his cellphone switched on. His girlfriend had accused him of not being there when she’d needed him most. His father had added his taunt, saying that surely Kieran had finally learned his lesson and accepted he shouldn’t get involved with anyone who would depend on him to look out for them.
Oh, he’d learned his lesson all right. He’d made a lifetime commitment to it. And nothing one little boy could do would change his mind.
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kieran tried to focus on something brighter, less distressing. Abigail. Again. Funny how she popped straight into his mind. It had never once occurred to him that she’d be working in the same department he was going to. What if she insisted on being overly friendly at work? Worse, what if everyone already knew he was the father of her child? He cringed. That would put him on the back foot straight away. He was the head of the department, albeit temporarily, and fraternising with the staff was not good for staff relations.
Too late, boyo. The fraternising has been done, can’t be undone. Abigail has a child, your child. A boy named Seamus.
He would do his damnedest to keep that information under wraps. If he wasn’t already too late.
‘I’d better not be,’ he muttered.
All his muscles tightened. As they had done a thousand times on this trip whenever he thought about the situation. He still couldn’t believe he was a father.
Was that because he didn’t want to believe it?
He’d always taken care to avoid an accident of this kind. That’s why he bought condoms by the ton. But he knew the boy was his. He knew Abigail wasn’t one of those women who went from one man’s bed to the next without a care. Neither would she use something like pregnancy to snag a man into marriage. If that had been her intention, she wouldn’t have kept Seamus’s arrival a secret from him. No, Abigail was honesty personified.
Discomfort made him squirm as he remembered that night in Dublin two years ago. Both of them had been totally smothered in grief after the joint funeral of his sister and Abigail’s brother. They’d turned to each other for comfort, and for a few hours had forgotten everything as they’d discovered each other. He knew her all right. Intimately.
The plane shuddered. So did Kieran. His tense fingers ached, bent like claws. He squeezed his eyes tight. God, he hated flying. Think of something else, anything else. Abigail again. Wrong focus. But her image burned his eyeballs. As it had at unexpected moments ever since they’d made love.
‘Did I hear an Irish accent?’ Beside him the metal hook flicked in and out of the cotton. ‘What brings you out here?’
A hurricane of waist-length dark blonde hair, and long arms and legs. A quirky smile that challenged him, and piercing hazel eyes that devoured him. Abigail.
No. He hadn’t endured this agony to see her. ‘I’m working at the local hospital. I also have a three-year-old niece living here.’ And your son. What about him? If he mentioned Seamus then he was acknowledging the boy was a part of him. I’m not ready for that.
‘
They’re a bundle of fun and tricks at that age. My grandson is into gardening at the moment, much to his mother’s consternation, digging being his favourite occupation.’
‘I can see how that could be a problem.’ What did Olivia enjoy doing? Damn it, who does Olivia look like? His sister? Or David? How tall was she? He didn’t know anything about her.
Appalled, he leaned his head back and stared at the moulded-plastic ceiling. He’d barely acknowledged any correspondence from Abigail about Olivia. He had behaved dreadfully, deliberately keeping out of touch. Arranging a regular money transfer from Dublin for Abigail to use for Olivia had been easy, and had salved his conscience whenever he’d thought there might be something he should be doing for his niece. No wonder Abigail hadn’t contacted him about Seamus. She must have a very low opinion of him. Would she be waiting at the airport with a bat to bludgeon him over the head so she could drag him home to see the children? He forced his fingers straight, loose. Expanded his lungs. He couldn’t blame her if she did.
Beside him the lady asked, ‘So, your niece, is she a Kiwi?’
‘Yes, she is, but she’s Irish as well. My sister married a doctor from here, a friend of mine.’ Best friend he’d ever had. ‘They were killed in a car accident in Dublin a couple of years ago.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ The woman glanced at him. ‘So the little girl has come over here to live with her father’s family?’
‘It seemed the best place for her, surrounded with lots of aunts and her grandfather. There’s only me available on her mother’s side and I live in the middle of Dublin. Not at all suitable for a small child.’ Not at all suitable for him. Thankfully, David and Morag had it written into their wills that if anything should ever happen to them, he and Abigail would be Olivia’s guardians, and she’d live with Abigail unless there was a very good reason why not. Which, of course, there wasn’t. Abigail was very caring; perfect for a small, bewildered child who’d just lost her parents.
His companion nodded at the window. ‘There’s Nelson City. We’ll be on the ground in a minute or two so you can relax now.’
‘You aren’t by any chance a psychologist?’ he asked her.
‘Just a canny old lady.’
‘What are you doing in early February? I could do with you distracting me again when I head home.’
‘I’m sure you could find a young lady to do that.’
That was absolutely the last thing he wanted. Or needed. He had a very comfortable lifestyle back in Dublin, one that didn’t allow for anyone else interfering with his comings and goings. He’d created a perfect life that didn’t involve … anyone. Especially not a family. Not with his appalling credentials. Not even Olivia and Seamus could change his belief on that.
Seamus, a good Irish name. A clever move on Abigail’s part? Or a name she liked more than any other? What did it matter what she’d called the lad? His jaw tightened some more. It shouldn’t, but the fact that she’d had his child and not mentioned it right up until he was days from leaving Dublin galled. Which wasn’t being fair to her. He knew he had a lot to make up to her for. But did he want to? It would mean getting to know the children, getting close to them. He shivered at the thought.
The plane’s wheels thumped onto the tarmac. On the ground again. The end of his journey at last. Something unfurled in the pit of his stomach. The knot caused by his fear of flying? No, this felt different. Like … excitement. No way. Did he even know what it felt like to be really excited? Abigail’s face floated into his mind, and the truth exploded through him. These feelings were all about her. The woman he’d never quite vanquished from his mind, from his body. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, laugh with her.
Reason enough to stay aboard the plane and fly back the way he’d come.
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY’S gaze was pulled to the plate-glass windows looking out over the tarmac and the disembarked passengers walking towards the terminal. Her nails dug painfully into her palms. One man towered above the rest of the passengers. Raven hair shining in the sun. A winning smile on a handsome face. He’d be exhausted after his long flight, but she’d never have guessed it from the way he carried himself. Shoulders back, legs swinging with confidence. As he came through the security door his gaze swept the terminal, searching. Then those twinkling eyes met hers and she saw the wariness in them. But then his smile broadened, oozing charm.
Her heart fluttered in her throat. That exact lopsided smile had once drawn her into bed with him. The urge to weep rose as unbidden memories teased at the fringes of her mind. Sweet memories of Kieran’s face next to hers on a white pillow, of her fingers pushing through his dark curls as they’d lain entwined in the hotel’s large bed, of his deep chuckle when she’d amused him.
It had been an unnatural time when emotions were raw, feelings bouncing all over the place. She’d be a fool to believe there was anything in those memories that could be rekindled now. She’d be a bigger fool to want anything close to that.
Remember, he’s probably angry with you. As if she needed reminding. The ache in her stomach was testament to days of waiting and worrying about that. This isn’t some happy reunion of two friends. Kieran Flynn has come here to work. Not to see you. And to say they’d been friends would be stretching the facts a little.
She gulped, tugged her shoulders back. Two children’s happiness depended on her getting along with this man, who was now approaching her. But how to get around the fact that just seeing Kieran made her forget everything except him?
She studied Kieran. Sexy. The word banged into her head. Instantly she was back in that hotel bed with him. Her cheeks warmed. Her silly heart tripped. It wouldn’t be easy, remaining neutral around Kieran. But she had to try. Starting right now.
‘Hi, Kieran, welcome to Nelson.’ Scintillating stuff, but her thought processes were mush. Try to squash the longing. Hang on to the fact that you’ve deceived him.
‘Hello, Abigail.’ And he dropped a light kiss on each cheek. Almost air kisses, kisses that meant absolutely nothing. Told her nothing. ‘It’s great to see you again.’
Oka-ay. The friendly approach. The friendly playboy approach. But, then, Kieran was known for his charm, so of course this would be second nature to him. She had to be careful not to be taken in by it all. She tried for a similar tone. ‘Same. Good to see you, I mean.’ Still making captivating conversation.
He stood, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Aha. His fingers were tense. He wore a wary smile on his face. Waiting for something? A more welcoming response from her? What was she supposed to say to him? How was she supposed to greet him? She didn’t know what he felt about the Seamus issue now that he’d had time to think about it. She hadn’t a clue how he felt about her since her revelation.
His back was ramrod straight, his chin jutting out defensively. He lifted a hand towards her, let it drop. ‘Thanks for coming to pick me up.’
Right, that helped. She knew exactly where she stood now. Not. Her hands fisted around her handbag strap. Then she got a whiff of that special Kieran scent of maleness and aftershave. She took a step back. A big step. That scent could undo all her resolve to remain neutral. It had lingered in the edges of her mind for two long, lonely years; teasing, annoying.
She forced a smile, worried he’d sense her unease. She hadn’t forgotten how perceptive he could be. ‘Kieran, I’m.’ She sucked a breath, tried again. ‘I’m really happy you’ve come. The family’s looking forward to seeing you again.’
‘How are they all? I guess the twins are out breaking the men’s hearts these days.’ This time he flashed a tired smile that had her feeling sympathetic towards him. Sympathy would draw her under his spell. That she couldn’t afford. So ignore it.
‘There have been a few casualties.’ She straightened her back again, tried for a smile. ‘Charlie and Steph have some parties lined up that you might like to go to.’ Where there’d be plenty of single women for him to enjoy the company of. Abby
felt a spurt of envy. She’d love to go to a party. With Kieran.
His black eyebrows rose. ‘That’s kind, but I’m going to have to disappoint them. I’m here to work, not socialise.’
‘No one at the hospital expects you to spend the whole eight weeks tied to the A and E department. Dad’s hoping you’ll join the family for a meal on Friday night, and Olivia’s so excited about you coming. And so is Seamus, although he doesn’t really understand yet.’ From few words to too many. Brain mush again.
He stepped back, looked around cautiously. ‘They’re not here? With you?’ His glance settled on a little girl standing with a small group of people next to them.
Oh, my goodness, he doesn’t know what Olivia looks like. ‘They’re at home with their nanny.’
As he turned back and gave her another cautious smile, she added, ‘I’ve been working today. I was given time off to meet you, and take you to your apartment.’
‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’ His smile tugged at her heart, made her momentarily forget why she’d been so nervous.
She found her mouth lifting in a return smile. ‘You didn’t give me much choice.’
‘Bit abrupt, was I?’ His blue eyes fixed her to the floor.
‘Just a weensy bit.’ She nodded, biting down on the smile. She looked up into his face, and again felt her stomach muscles tighten with apprehension. How would she survive having Kieran living in her home town? Working in the ED department as her boss? Visiting his niece and son in her cottage? If he visited them. Of course he’d visit them. He had to.
Right now she was stunned at the depth of feeling she had for this enigmatic man tripping her up at every turn. She hadn’t expected that. Get back on track, the common-sense side of her brain warned. This was the day of reckoning, the day when she’d learn how Kieran intended dealing with the fact he was a father. It had been a long time coming, and yet she had always known it would come. Even if she’d had to wait another year, another five years, it would have come.