The Surgeon's One-Night Baby

by Charlotte Hawkes

  He’d thought he’d long since got over the pain of not being wanted. By his mother, his father and, to some extent, his best friend Robbie when they’d fallen out over some girl whose name he couldn’t even remember any more. Sarah perhaps? Suki? Sadie? Not that it even mattered.

  But Archie’s rejection of him ate into him far, far deeper. She’d done her duty by telling him she was pregnant, but she evidently now wanted to be as far away from him as she possibly could get. And he didn’t want to let her go. Not just, he suspected, as an image of her breathtaking smile and dancing eyes filled his head while his insides hitched, for the health of their baby. The restlessness he felt whenever he was around her was like an ache of desire.

  It made no sense. He was losing his mind and Archie was the one making him lose it. She threatened the order he had created around himself, blurred his clearly set-out parameters, and blasted away his peace of mind.

  He could pretend he had been strong all afternoon for Archie’s sake, but he was terribly suspicious that the truth was that he needed to stay strong for himself just as much. What he really needed was a plan. Something that would keep his unexpected family around him, allow him to be the father his baby deserved.

  Something with which Archie couldn’t possibly argue.

  * * *

  ‘Do you promise to love, honour, cherish and protect...?’

  Archie stared at the registrar as though her soul was wholly disconnected from her body. As though she was one of the witnesses, who she didn’t even know but apparently Kaspar did, watching the brief ceremony, rather than the not-so-blushing bride standing opposite a grim-faced Kaspar and clutching a small bouquet that was so jaunty and bright it seemed to mock her.

  She felt numb. As numb as she’d felt when Kaspar had returned home from the fundraiser early the other night and issued his edict.

  Even now she could recall exactly how her body had felt, as though it had been too small to contain her, squeezing her until every last breath had been crushed out of her. And yet Kaspar had looked, for all the world, as though he was relaying something as banal as the weather.

  ‘Marriage?’ she had whispered, a lump of something that was halfway between desolation and fury, or perhaps a combination of the two, lodged in her throat. ‘We’ll never get a license.’

  ‘This is California, there’s no waiting time. A long line could mean a two hour wait, but that’s about it.’ He brushed her concern aside with a sweep of his arm. ‘Then we have ninety days to actually get married before the license expires, so unless you’re planning on some elaborate ceremony somewhere, I know a couple of ministers who can perform marriages. Either one of them would be happy to step in at such short notice for us. I’m sure we can even go to the beach if you’d prefer something more...romantic.’

  He pulled a face which wasn’t exactly encouraging. She tried again.

  ‘I’m not Californian. I’m not even American.’

  ‘You don’t have to be a resident.’ Again, he dismissed her with apparent ease. ‘And there’s no restriction against foreigners marrying here either. You just need the correct documentation which you have. I’ve already checked. ’

  ‘Kaspar...’

  ‘There’s no other way.’ His crisp response had been damning. ‘But if you need another reason, then how about this; you need to be here where you can be seen by Catherine and my health insurance will cover you only if you are my wife.’

  She had savings. Money she’d set aside year in and year out as her rainy-day fund. But nothing that might cover something like this. She’d hated to put it to Kaspar, but she’d had little choice.

  ‘What if you paid?’ She could actually remember running her tongue over her teeth in an effort to free them from her top lip. ‘I would pay you back. Every penny...or at least every cent...in time, of course.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please, Kaspar?’ It wasn’t like he wasn’t wealthy enough to afford it. Although she hadn’t been able to say that, it would have sounded so cold-blooded, and that wasn’t how she would have intended it. Her voice had dropped to a whisper. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why should I pay out of my pocket just so you can run back to England and take my child away from me at the first chance you get?’ he had ground out, and if she hadn’t known better she might have thought he sounded almost urgent. But then his commanding tone had come back and she’d known she’d just imagined it. ‘I told you, this baby will be brought up knowing her father.’

  Archie blinked as she realised that, back in the present, the minister was looking at her expectantly. She clutched the flowers tighter and prayed her subconscious was paying enough attention to know what stage of the ceremony they were up to.

  ‘I do,’ she choked out, relieved when he bobbed his head, turning back to Kaspar. ‘Repeat after me. I, Kaspar Athari...’

  She tried to concentrate, but it was too much. Her head still swam with memories of that night. She had assured him that their baby would know him. Promised him. But he had been intransigent, his cool, level responses only heightening her agitation.

  She hadn’t known why the idea of marriage had disconcerted her so much. She’d told herself it was because the idea was ludicrous, but feared it was more because a part of her actually longed to say yes. To take the easy solution that he was offering. To accept the safe stability of a marriage. A unit.

  But how long would that safe stability last? Especially with a man like Kaspar, who had spent his life vigorously avoiding ties of any kind.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he had thrust his hands into his pockets, looking, for all the world, like the conversation bored him.

  ‘I don’t work on promises, Archie. I never promise my patients or their families anything that I can’t one hundred percent guarantee. I prefer to put in place assurances.’

  ‘And marrying me is an assurance?’

  ‘The closest I can get, yes.’ He’d given a light shrug. ‘You can’t deny me, or the baby, that way.’

  She’d told herself that it couldn’t be happening. That it wasn’t fair. She’d resisted the urge to run from the room, knowing that it might offer her relief for a moment or two but that ultimately she couldn’t escape Kaspar. Or the conversation.

  ‘Please. I’ll give you any other assurances you want. Sign any contract you put in front of me.’

  ‘Of course you will. It will be called a marriage contract.’

  ‘No.’ Her vehemence had turned Kaspar’s eyes to hard, opal gleams. As though she’d hurt him. But such a notion was ludicrous.

  ‘If the idea of marrying me is that abhorrent to you, Archana, then surely you can see how I might think you’d leave with our baby the first chance you get.’

  But wasn’t that exactly what the problem was? That she didn’t find the idea of marriage to Kaspar so abhorrent. Or at least she only abhorred the idea of a loveless marriage to him. She could tell herself it was because she’d been there and done that. She’d made the mistake of thinking the way she and Joe had cared for each other had been enough. But it hadn’t, and she didn’t want to go through that again. Certainly not with Kaspar.

  Because the truth, as much as she’d tried to deny it until now, was that a part of her—a small, childish remnant from her youth, no doubt—was in love with him. And being married to him, without him loving her back in any way, would be too much to bear. How could she stand the fact that he would never be hers? Even if she married him?

  Kaspar Athari was his own man. He would never belong to any one. And she wanted so much more than that from him.

  Archie paused as the celebrant turned to her now. Her turn to repeat the vows. She didn’t even recognise her own voice. The ceremony could have been happening to someone else. She was still stuck there, in her own head, stuck back in that night.

  In her urgency, she’d even asked him exactly what m
arriage to him would look like. She didn’t know what she’d hoped he would say. It certainly hadn’t been the casual shoulder hunch he’d offered. The nonchalant, ‘Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it?’

  There certainly hadn’t been any words of love, or even affection. There and then she’d promised herself that she would never settle for half-measures, with Kaspar or with anyone else. If she couldn’t have all of him, she wanted none. She’d done half-measures before and look where that had got her. She refused to do it again.

  In her mind’s eye, Archie could see herself heading resolutely across the room. But it was no good. By the time she’d reached the door she’d stopped, her hand on the handle but still not turning around.

  ‘I can’t marry you, Kaspar. I’ve made that mistake before. And I can’t make you help me,’ she’d whispered again, desperately summoning the strength to turn the door handle. ‘But I’m begging you to do so.’

  He had crossed the room, the heat of his body like a wall behind her, searing her as his hand had covered hers and drawn it from the cold metal.

  ‘Are you so sure it would be a mistake?’ The rawness in his voice had been like a rasp against her heart.

  Archie had wanted to tell him that of course it would be a mistake. She’d known she shouldn’t cave. But his question had sounded so skinned, like an exposed wound, his hand had still been holding hers and she could still feel his body so close to her. She remembered dropping her head, then in defiance of all logic she’d turned and faced him.

  The pinched expression on his face had taken her aback. As though she’d wounded him. As though he actually cared. She’d wondered if she could be wrong about him. If he could really want her in his life. As his wife.

  She’d averted her eyes but his other hand had slid instantly beneath her chin, his fingers had tilted her head up and forced her to look at him.

  ‘My baby will want for nothing,’ he’d stated firmly, fiercely. ‘I’ll make sure of that. Neither will you, but your lives are here now. With me. I’m not your idiot ex-husband who let you walk away from him. I suggest you don’t make the blunder of mistaking me for him.’

  She hadn’t been about to tell him that was hardly likely. That no one could mistake Kaspar for anyone but himself. His utter certainty had been mesmerising. No wonder people rarely refused him. Including her. Especially her.

  ‘Love should be the core of your marriage.’ The registrar smiled benevolently now. ‘Love is the reason you are here. But it also will take trust to know in your hearts that you want the best for each other.’

  She tuned out again. Joe might never have been enough to compel her to leave her life for Zurich. But Kaspar was so much she wondered if she might even leave her life to follow him to the very bowels of hell.

  The notion had terrified her. Kaspar didn’t love her or want her, he only wanted their baby. Abruptly she’d heard herself lashing out. Wanting to wind Kaspar the way he had done to her.

  ‘I should never have come here,’ she’d blurted out, hugging her laptop in front of her chest like it had been some form of body armour against Kaspar’s words. ‘I should never have told you about the baby. You ruin everything.’

  She hadn’t been even remotely prepared for the look of absolute pain and devastation that had tugged at his features. She’d opened her mouth to apologise, to find some way to take it back, but then it was as though he’d sucked all the misery back in and instead a wave of fury had smashed over her, emanating from him like a thick, black, lethal cloud.

  ‘You won’t take my baby away, Archie.’ His ferocity had been unmistakeable. ‘You won’t shut me out of my child’s life, or leave her thinking for a single moment that I didn’t want to be there for her. This is my baby, too. I will be a part of every aspect of things. Not some weekend or holiday father but a proper dad, who is there for the first word, the first step, the first dry night.’

  She’d tried to take it back. Guilt and regret had almost overwhelmed her. She’d opened her mouth to tell him she had never meant those words that had tumbled, so cruelly, out of her mouth. But the apology hadn’t come, and anyway Kaspar wouldn’t have let her.

  ‘This isn’t about you or me, it’s about the life of this baby,’ he’d hissed out, his voice lethal. ‘You need medical supervision, which is here, with me. This is non-negotiable.’

  And that had been the end of it. Those words, uttered in what felt like a lifetime ago.

  Now, a few days later, they were here, and Archie was gazing at a grim Kaspar. She gaped as the registrar beamed his widest smile yet.

  ‘I now declare you to be husband and wife.’

  The worst thing was that a part of her was only too eager to comply.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘DID YOU CALL that a kiss?’ Kaspar demanded as they stepped back into his...their home a scant few hours later.

  He didn’t know why he was trying to tease her. Perhaps because now they were married he knew they finally needed to get past the animosity that had settled on them. Black, heavy and cold. They had to move on from it.

  It was one of the reasons he’d arranged for them to have their wedding breakfast at a private, fine dining experience in one of LA’s most exclusive restaurants. It was his attempt at an olive branch, but he hadn’t accounted for how entrenched they had become.

  The silence at their table, the scrape of metal against fine china, the hollow clink of crystal wine glasses, both filled with water, had only emphasised the emptiness of the day, until finally Kaspar was able to bear it no more.

  ‘I know you’re not sure about this marriage,’ he sighed, covering her hand lightly with his across the table, ‘and I’m sorry if you feel I pushed you into it. Seeing you in front of the minister looking so sad...well, that isn’t what I want. Please,’ he implored her, and in his eyes she saw an unexpected flash of the vulnerable, proud boy she had once known. ‘Let’s try to make this thing work, let’s try to make our home a pleasant one, if nothing else. The baby deserves that much.’

  Archie’s heart sank a little. Of course it was the baby he was really worried about, but she nodded anyway, and in a small, tight voice agreed. ‘I can be pleasant.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  * * *

  Now, though, as they walked down the hallway of the beach house, Kaspar tried for a little more levity. ‘I know you can kiss far better than you showed me today.’

  Archie tilted her chin up at him, utterly elegant and poised. It gave him an unmistakeable kick to realise that he could see straight through her. He could read her in a way he’d never expected to be able to.

  ‘It may shock you to know this, Kaspar, but I don’t want to kiss you again. I certainly don’t want to sleep with you.’

  He grinned unexpectedly. The first in days.

  ‘I was talking about a kiss. Who said anything about sleeping together?’

  ‘I surmised it was where you were going with the conversation.’ She flushed, struggling hard not to sound so prim. Too hard.

  ‘I hadn’t been. Interesting it was where your mind went, though.’

  ‘My mind went nowhere untoward, I can assure you.’

  Something like relief skittered across her face and Kaspar realised it was a game. One designed to speak to his basest instincts. She was wriggling under his skin, the way she’d always been able to as a kid. Only there was nothing childlike about the attraction that now fizzed between them.

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘That’s so,’ she confirmed, but her voice quivered.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She didn’t answer and his gaze held hers, missing nothing. Not her quick, shallow breathing, or the flush creeping up her neck, or the way she tried to swallow so discreetly. For a moment there was nothing. No sound, no movement. Then, suddenly, without even thinking, he closed the gap between them and haule
d her body to his and wrapped his hand around her hair to tip her head backwards until she was staring up at him.

  She didn’t speak. He suspected she couldn’t, and that send a shot of pure triumph jolting through him. And then he was crushing her mouth to his and a thousand glorious, dazzling fireworks were going off in his head all at once. Greedy and demanding, he feasted on her and she responded willingly. Wantonly. Her body, bump and all, pressed to him, her tongue dancing to his tune, her hands reaching for his powerful shoulders. And when she moaned against his lips his whole body tightened in response, everything shining that much brighter in his mind.

  If he didn’t stop this now, he feared he would never be able to do so. She was too damned intoxicating. Still, he didn’t know how he succeeded to drop his arm or move away from her. He had no idea how he managed to hold his ground as she stood there, swaying and confused. It was a battle to talk as though he wasn’t every bit as affected by the kiss as she clearly was.

  ‘You’re right, your disinclination to have sex with me again is abundantly clear,’ he taunted softly, feeling bizarrely exhilarated as the oddest sense of calm seemed to permeate his body.

  It didn’t matter that Archie was staring at him as though he had lost his mind, and it didn’t matter that even though he could see the jumble of thoughts that were barging through her head, he felt oddly detached. Confident. Right. A whisper of euphoria curled inexplicably through him.

  ‘You had no right to do that,’ she choked out eventually. ‘I don’t want you to do that.’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t kiss me back so willingly,’ he responded, offering no room for argument.

  Not another. Not when he was already feeling so rattled. And yet so triumphant. He felt another chunk of ice fall away.

  ‘Marriage isn’t what you wanted when you came here,’ he told her quietly. ‘I know that. Just as I know you gave me a thousand reasons why it was insane. But we’re married now and those reasons don’t matter. You don’t matter. I don’t matter. All that matters is our baby. And that he or she has the childhood, the life that you had. Not the one that I had.’