Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

by Sue MacKay

  ‘On my way. Fill me in on everything now.’ Kristof listened as he turned off the gas elements. ‘Sounds like a pulmonary embolism. Take bloods for haematology, coagulation and biochemistry. I’ll fill out the form when I get there. Give Radiology the heads up that we’ll be needing imaging.’

  Quickly he scrawled Alesha a note.

  Sorry, got called in to see a patient. Help yourself to anything you want. I’ll be back as soon as possible to continue our discussion.

  Kristof

  He refrained from adding an X at the end, though as he drove towards the hospital he kind of wished he had put it there. It might go some way to getting back on side with Alesha. Then again, why complicate an already complicated situation? Alesha might read more into a simple penned kiss than he meant. Or she might do a runner, head for the train and the Friday-night revellers that would be on board. She’d better not leave. If she was adamant about going home later he’d drive her.

  Or she might not wake up until he got home and climbed into bed beside her.

  What? Why not? He could hold her, in the most innocent way, as a comfort, as support.

  Oh, yeah, as if Alesha would accept that quietly. Somehow he felt cuddling was off the agenda for now, if not for ever.

  That shouldn’t sadden him; he should be ecstatic she wouldn’t complicate things in that respect. It did, and he wasn’t.

  Go figure.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ALESHA WOKE AND stared around the semi dark room. ‘Where am I?’

  Then nausea struck and she leapt off the bed, followed the light source to what was a fully equipped bathroom. Grateful for en suite bathrooms, she sank to her knees in front of the porcelain and let her baby rule.

  Her head pounded and her eyes were filled with sleep grit. Her body felt like a well-worn car tyre, and she couldn’t focus on anything except feeling so bad. Looking around the room, she saw a familiar shirt on top of the laundry basket and it all tumbled back into her mind.

  She was at Kristof’s and they’d been discussing the baby when she’d fallen asleep. That made her look enthusiastic, didn’t it? But nowadays when the need for sleep hit there was no stopping it. Unless she was at work she usually grabbed half an hour on the couch and was good to go again. At work she put matchsticks under her eyelids and carried on regardless, triple-checking everything she did.

  Laying her hand on her belly, she drew up a smile. ‘Hello, little one. You’re being a wee bit tough on your mum, you know? I could do without all this sickness stuff. But then I suppose it’s part of the deal and if it keeps you safe and comfy then I’ll manage.’

  Panic gripped her. What if she got what she wished for? At the cost of her baby? Pushing to her feet, she stared at her image in the mirror. ‘Stay aboard, whatever you think. I love you already. Got that?’

  Raising her blouse, she regarded her flat stomach. Not a hint of what lay inside. Turning side on, she changed her mind. ‘A slight curve going on.’ The panic backed off as fast as it had struck. ‘I can’t wait to meet you. Are you a girl or a boy?’ If only she could be heard and understood, she’d love to feel a kick in answer to her questions.

  Then her stomach groaned. Hunger was gathering strength. Kristof had mentioned chops and salad. Her mouth salivated. She had to find the kitchen. Which proved to be interesting. The apartment made the house she shared with three others look like a shoebox. There weren’t many rooms but they were all very large, furnished elegantly and tastefully. It matched Kristof’s professional look, not that sexy, have-fun man who only came out after everyone else had been seen to.

  Not the sort of furniture for little children to climb all over.

  That was Kristof’s problem, not hers. So far she didn’t have any furniture, not even a bed, but if she bought a place she’d have fun selecting things to make it look pretty and comfortable and usable. It could also be a disaster considering her lack of experience in decorating. But learning would be exciting. She’d do the baby’s room first, sleep on the floor in the meantime if necessary. This settling down was sounding better by the day.

  But now she had a father-in-waiting to talk to.

  Except all she found was a note. And the smell of minted potatoes, which were cooked to perfection. Sitting in the hot water must’ve finished them off. A delicious-looking salad in the fridge made her mouth water. All that was needed was one of those chops Kristof had mentioned. Would it be rude to cook herself one? Make that two, if the growling going on in her stomach was an indicator.

  Rude or not, she couldn’t wait until he came home. If he came home this side of midnight. Getting called in to a patient often meant long hours. Kristof might be in Theatre again, and even a short operation took time to prepare for, to undertake, and then hang around to see how the patient fared. The chops definitely couldn’t wait a moment longer.

  As Alesha slid two chops, slightly pink in the middle, onto a plate, she heard keys being dropped on the table by the front door. ‘Well timed,’ she called. Then hoped it was Kristof. Someone else might live here for all she knew. Someone who’d object to finding a stranger in the kitchen making a mess. She might be able to appease them with a chop.

  No, her stomach growled. I need both those.

  ‘Smells wonderful,’ the gruff, sexy voice relieved her of that worry, but only set in motion all the other concerns about what role he’d finally decide on in the baby department. Her baby not having a father who loved and cared about him could not happen.

  ‘I’ll put some more on. We can start with one each.’ She was acting as if she was in charge in Kristof’s kitchen. Finally she was learning not to let other people dominate her. Not that this man did that.

  Stay the night.

  Not too much anyway.

  He stood right beside her, watching as she added more oil to the pan, swirling it as it expanded with the heat. Then he picked up one of the cooked chops and bit into it. ‘You know what you’re doing.’

  ‘Hey, I need that.’ She grabbed the other before he could lay claim to it.

  Kristof nodded. ‘Salad and spuds after the protein?’

  Alesha waved her chop between them. ‘Only because I don’t trust you not to steal this when I’m spooning salad onto my plate.’ Was he in a good mood? Or still in shock? That raw denial seemed to have disappeared from his eyes, but she couldn’t read what had replaced it.

  ‘Come on, now. Would I do that?’

  ‘Yes. You stole two of my deep-fried squid at the charity dinner.’

  ‘I made up for it later.’

  With the most amazing sex she’d ever experienced. Yep, she got it. Making light of a grave situation must be Kristof’s way of coping. She backed away, sank onto a chair. ‘We’re not having sex tonight, not any night. The fling is over.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Not even a hint of a smile now.

  Kristof filled his plate with salad and sat down beside her at the small table. ‘We did get on well when we didn’t overthink things.’

  Yes, but they hadn’t had a baby in the picture then. The tomato was surprisingly sweet on her tongue, giving her hope other things could be too. ‘Let’s try to keep it that way. There’s a lot at stake.’

  ‘I agree.’ His eyes were thoughtful. ‘Have you told anyone else?’

  She tried for a smile, but exhaustion got in the way. ‘No. You had to be the first person who knew.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s important to me.’

  Because she put him first? About to slip one finger across the back of his hand, she hesitated. Best not. ‘I won’t ever deliberately hurt you, or abuse your trust in me.’

  His chair legs squeaked as they were pushed across the tiles. ‘You don’t know me well enough to trust me with something as important as your baby’s future.’

  Alesha drew herself up and locked her eyes on his. ‘There are a lot of
things I haven’t a clue about when it comes to you, but I do know in here—’ she tapped her chest ‘—that I can trust you to be considerate and to care about me in regards to our child. Actually, make that I trust you totally.’ She really did. There were no grounds for this, and while every man she’d spent more than a couple of dates with had hurt her in one way or another this beggared belief. But she did believe it. Kristof would not do the dirty on her. How often had he watched out for her during their fling week? Attended her needs before his? That had been wonderful, worth gold.

  Now she just had to prevent her heart thinking it was winning and that she was about to throw herself at Kristof. Because trust was well and good, but it wasn’t the whole picture. Discovering she loved him didn’t mean he reciprocated; didn’t allow her to stop fighting for what her baby needed; wouldn’t make the coming months a breeze to get through. Only if they could find common ground, fall in love together, make a real go of being a family.

  In your dreams. Alesha.

  His head came down, close to her, then his lips caressed her forehead. Inside, her temperature rose and her muscles softened, her stomach turned to goo. This was beautiful. It made her feel special. Which it shouldn’t. She should back away now. Before he told her he wasn’t interested in her or their baby.

  Kristof beat her to it, pulling away and picking up their plates to take them to the sink. ‘It’s getting late. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I think we should postpone further discussions until then. Go out for breakfast at the market and start making some plans.’

  He expected her to stay when she hadn’t agreed to. ‘What time shall I meet you there?’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he growled. ‘You’re pushing me away.’

  Was she pushing him away? If standing up for herself and showing she wouldn’t be told what to do meant that then, yes, she was. ‘I’m looking out for myself.’

  ‘I get it, but staying here isn’t going to prevent you doing that, and it makes sense not to go home on a train loaded with drunks and who knows what else. You’d only have to return in a few hours, hours that could be spent catching up on sleep you so desperately need if those shadows darkening your cheeks are any indication.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll stay.’ What else could she say when her blood was humming with gratitude and something she’d rather not identify? Her head was nodding with fatigue and her legs really didn’t have the strength to walk to the nearest station. ‘Which bedroom shall I use?’

  ‘Mine. It’s got a bathroom within dashing distance.’ His smile was strained, as if reality was finally catching up in a hurry.

  All she could hope for was that she didn’t wake up on the front step with a note attached telling her to go away, that he wasn’t interested in becoming a parent. But he wouldn’t. She trusted him. If that made her an idiot, then sorry, but once she’d allowed him in it seemed there wasn’t any way he was leaving. ‘Goodnight, Kristof.’

  He had his phone out. Finding out how his patient was? Or was there a significant other person in his life? She’d never asked, believing he wouldn’t have had that fling if there was. ‘Goodnight, Alesha.’

  ‘Is there someone special in your life you have to tell about the baby?’ She couldn’t help the squeak that accompanied her question, the need to hear him say no suddenly important.

  ‘I’m single, without anyone regular in my life. In fact you’ve been the only woman I’ve been intimate with in months.’

  Good. She wouldn’t ask why. That’d be pushing too hard. ‘Goodnight, Kristof.’ She headed down the hall, a spring in her heavy footsteps.

  They were definitely like two people who’d had a hot fling and moved on to become—what?—friends with a baby on the way? Friends was good, but nowhere near enough. Though until they’d worked their way through the issues surrounding baby then it could be that friendship was the way to go. Also, far better than fighting one another every step.

  Down, disappointment, down.

  This was what she’d come for, before she’d realised she loved the man.

  Slipping out of her blouse and skirt, Alesha slid under the sheet in her underwear. It probably wasn’t wise but it was all she had, and anyway she was as well dressed as the night she’d first met Kristof. Since then he’d seen it all. Smiling, she closed her eyes and instantly fell into a deep sleep where dreams of what they’d done together, followed by other dreams of what they could do next, skidded through her night.

  * * *

  Kristof stood in the doorway of his bedroom watching the gentle rise and fall of the sheet covering Alesha’s breasts. He wasn’t leering or even thinking sexy thoughts. No, his head was full of images of her holding their baby, of crooning to a crying little one, of kissing his or her forehead and pressing him or her to her swollen breast for milk. Don’t ask him how, but he believed she was going to make an excellent mother.

  As for him? An excellent father? Yes, he could be, would be, as long as he didn’t get it all wrong. The child had better be strong, and depend more on his—or her—mother than him. Just in case Kristof made poor judgements and hurt them all. He’d misread his father, and blamed his mother for leaving them when she’d been struggling with Dad’s infidelities. If only he’d known about those before he’d shouted at her, ‘If you leave I never want to see you again.’ He’d believed his father to be nigh on perfect, had never once considered the man he tried to emulate might be the one transgressing the marriage boundaries. Not that he’d been able to picture his mother having an affair either. His mother had been quick to brush away his apologies when he’d learned about the mistresses but it had been too late. He’d said those awful words and there was no taking them back. She’d returned to her home town of Dubrovnik before his father had died, and he’d missed her so much, but male pride had got in the way and kept him firmly in London, until he’d finally gone to apologise, and they’d slowly started to rebuild their relationship.

  Then there was his marriage. Cally had wanted for ever with him, just not only him.

  He’d never hurt a woman like that, or his child, but he’d also never risk his heart again.

  One week was all it had taken to turn his world around, to change his direction for ever. Was he happy about it? Honestly? No. But there was no undoing what had happened. Alesha certainly had found the right man to accidentally get pregnant with. He’d stick by her throughout and beyond, as a friend, as the father of her child.

  Kristof spun away to head to his TV room. A mindless programme would help quieten the questions and let him relax enough to fall asleep. The answers were there, under lock and key, waiting for a time he was able to look at them. He wanted to believe he’d get this right. He really, really did.

  Because if he was lucky enough for his child to adore him he didn’t want to crack his son’s world wide open to disbelief and pain; to the acknowledgment his father had made a mockery of everything he’d been raised to believe.

  As his father had done. Had his dad gone and died quietly and with dignity? Hell, no. A massive heart attack while in his mistress’s bed had been the final chapter in what had turned out to be a double life right from the day he’d married Kristof’s mother and been unfaithful with the bridesmaid.

  At least according to the gossip and stories at the funeral and for months afterwards.

  TV wasn’t distracting him.

  A brandy might. But he had to be ready to return to the hospital if called.

  So checking out the property market in central London was an option.

  Alesha didn’t want to live in the city with her baby.

  There had to be give and take. Alesha had to understand he wanted to be near but that he couldn’t live too far from the hospital.

  Another option would be to keep this apartment and buy a larger house where she wanted and go stay there at the weekends.

  Just like your father.

 
He wasn’t having a mistress in the city and Alesha waiting for him somewhere else. That wasn’t the idea. Anyway, he and Alesha weren’t a couple.

  Just as well he wasn’t on call tomorrow. He’d be next to useless.

  * * *

  A light knock on the bedroom door warned Alesha she was no longer alone. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Will a cup of tea make waking up easier?’ Kristof stood in the doorway, that thick dark-blond hair with a very slept-in look and a line of stubble highlighting his jawline.

  Her tongue roved over her lips at the gorgeous sight. Until her stomach warned her there were more important considerations right now. Gulp. ‘Excuse me.’ The bathroom door slammed behind her. This was not something she wanted to share with Kristof. That was going too far. She preferred he remembered her looking half decent at least.

  The man didn’t take the hint. Or was too thick to understand. The door opened and he was there, holding her hair away from her face, rubbing her back, and, when it was over, handing her a warm, moist face cloth.

  While her stomach cringed at Kristof seeing her like this, there was no denying the tenderness flowing through her at his kindness and concern.

  ‘Here.’ He held out a thick white robe. ‘Far too large, I know, but you look cold.’

  Dressed in bra and knickers, she certainly wasn’t overdressed. ‘Thanks.’ The soft fabric smelt of Kristof as she snuggled into the garment. She blinked rapidly to banish the sudden tears. All these tears. Pregnancy seemed to mess with her hormones quite a bit.

  But when was the last time anyone had done something so ordinary and yet so endearing for her? No answer came to mind, unless she went back to when she was seven and her mother cuddled her after falling off a horse. Mum.

  Don’t go there.

  But what would her mother say about the baby?

  Forget it.

  Her parents had had no time for her after Ryan got sick; they weren’t going to find any for a grandchild. Especially since they were on the other side of the world. Her heart sank. It was so unfair. She was used to the abandoned feeling she’d known from the day her brother was diagnosed with acute leukaemia catching at her in unexpected moments, but it never got any easier. The sense that her parents should want to see her, talk to her, know what she was up to would not go away permanently. Sometimes that made her angry, mostly it made her sad.