Six Sexy Doctors Part 1 (Mills & Boon e-Book Collections): A Doctor, A Nurse: A Little Miracle / The Children's Doctor and the Single Mum / A Wife for ... / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘He isn’t really ringing.’ Amelia glowered.

  Luke flicked it on to speakerphone and there was no mistaking Mrs Williams’s voice.

  ‘Harriet Williams speaking!’

  ‘She can sleep in mine,’ Angus snarled, then without another word he and Amelia huffed into the living room.

  ‘Glass of wine?’ Luke suggested after he’d asked his mother how she was.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Putting down her suitcase, she wandered into the kitchen and put her brown bag back over the chair then took a grateful sip of her wine as she thought about the white envelope sitting in there.

  Two minutes into this parenting lark and she wanted to click on her pen.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘MORNING, guys!’ Molly pushed open the bedroom door and couldn’t help but smile. Amelia, in her pyjamas and wings, looked like a fallen angel crashed out on her stomach and her arms and legs like a starfish. Angus peeked out of the sheets and blinked as she turned on the light. ‘Time to get up and get ready for kinder. Daddy should be home soon.’

  ‘Morning, Molly.’ Angus forgot he wasn’t talking to her for two seconds, but when Amelia sat up and gave him a frown, he soon remembered. The little duo pulled on their slippers and shuffled out as Molly padded behind.

  ‘It’s the last morning, isn’t it?’ Amelia checked, peering over her orange juice. ‘Daddy’s on nights off now.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘What happens next week?’ Angus asked, and for once Amelia didn’t come up with a quick answer. ‘Nanny’s having her operation tomorrow,’ Angus said as it dawned on him, ‘so who’s going to look after us?’

  And for the first time Amelia looked to Molly for an answer—but that was for Luke to tell them. It certainly wasn’t for Molly to somehow explain that their little worlds were about to change yet again, so instead she gave them both a smile.

  ‘Daddy will sort all that out.’

  The time with the twins had been well spent because, Molly realised, despite her best efforts, it didn’t get easier.

  Actually, it did for Luke. He was thrilled that they seemed to be sleeping through. It just didn’t get easier for Molly.

  Funny, that. She scowled into her coffee as he did Amelia’s hair before school.

  Not that they’d been naughty—in the three nights she’d had them Luke had put them to bed before he’d left and woken them all up when he’d come home. He was about to take them to kinder.

  It was the little barbs when they were awake that Molly was finding it harder and harder to ignore.

  ‘There you go!’ Luke had tied her hair into a high ponytail—very well actually—and added a couple of butterfly hairclips. ‘Ready for kinder.’

  ‘I need my wings!’

  ‘So you do…’ He put them on her. ‘Now you’re beautiful.’

  ‘Not the most beautiful, though. You said that was Mummy!’ Just for a second her eyes met Molly’s in the mirror. ‘Didn’t you, Daddy? Didn’t you say that Mummy was the most beautiful woman in the world?’

  At least he had the grace to look awkward as the twins scampered off to collect their bags.

  ‘What could I say?’ He gave a thin smile.

  ‘Nothing.’ Molly swallowed. ‘But she was rude to me at dinner last night when she said I wasn’t good at telling stories—and you didn’t say anything then either.’

  ‘I don’t think she was being rude,’ Luke answered carefully. ‘She was just—’

  ‘Comparing me to her mother,’ Molly said tightly, then regretted it, felt stupid and petty. Of course the little girl made comparisons, of course she was suspicious and wary, but did she have to be so spiteful—and could Luke really not see it?

  ‘They really didn’t wake up in the whole three nights that you had them!’ Luke still couldn’t believe it. ‘And they’ve been going to bed well too—you’ve no idea what a difference that is. That’s three days, no, four now that there hasn’t been a wet bed or a nightmare.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that!’ Molly actually managed a genuine smile, then grimaced. ‘I hope I just didn’t not hear them and sleep right through.’

  ‘Oh, I assure you you’d hear. They must feel really comfortable with you.’

  Molly’s raised eyebrows didn’t go unnoticed, but before she could give a smart response a rather more sensible one came to mind. ‘When your mum has them, do they stay there or here?’

  ‘Here,’ Luke said. ‘We’re trying to give them some sort of a routine.’

  ‘And they were good at your aunt’s?’

  ‘Golden apparently.’

  ‘Did they sleep in the same room there?’

  ‘They’ve been sleeping apart since they were three.’ Luke shook his head, the solution surely not that simple.

  ‘They hadn’t lost their mum then.’

  ‘But they’ve never even asked to share.’

  ‘Maybe they just need to,’ Molly said simply.

  The terrible two were back now, pulling on their shoes and talking at the tops of their voices.

  ‘I’ll take them to kinder.’ He bent over to kiss her, then remembered and pulled back. ‘I’ll see you in half an hour.’

  ‘I’ve got to go home this morning.’ She saw the question in his eyes, but chose not to answer it. ‘You’ve got to get ready for your interview and I’ve got some forms I need to fill out.’

  ‘For your course?’

  ‘Yep—they have to be in tomorrow. I’ll pick them up, though. What time does your interview finish?’

  ‘I should be back just after one.’

  ‘Well, good luck.’ Amelia was calling at the door now as Angus suddenly remembered he hadn’t brushed his teeth. ‘You’re going to get it!’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ Luke admitted. ‘I’ve been out of paeds for so long. I’ve kept up to date, though. I did do some regular stints in Sydney.’

  ‘Why did you give it up?’ Molly frowned. ‘I mean, GP’s hours are lousy…’

  ‘I could pick and choose at the clinic.’

  ‘But you loved paeds?’ Molly pushed. ‘Did Amanda work?’ She bit her lip, wondering if she’d asked too much, but Luke didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘She gave up when she was pregnant. It was a difficult pregnancy and she never went back. It’s hard doing everything with little ones.’

  ‘Daddy!’ the twins chorused.

  ‘Thanks again for all this!’

  ‘Really, it’s fine.’

  And it might have been.

  If the twins had given an inch.

  There was another very good reason, Molly had started to realise, for keeping little children away from grown-up games: they ruined them!

  Despite her best efforts, despite making no effort at all, in the hope it would work, in the weeks since she’d met them, the only thing that had flourished had been an obvious dislike—for her.

  The cat was delighted to see her, though, mewing at her legs as Molly made a coffee and sat down with her forms.

  Go for it!

  Luke had been thrilled when she’d told him, had been genuinely pleased for her, she knew that—knew that—only she’d seen a flash of something she couldn’t quite interpret in his eyes. Regret, disappointment…

  And she didn’t blame him.

  Because she felt them both too.

  Oh, he didn’t expect her to give up her goals so he could focus on his.

  Didn’t expect her to put her dreams on hold so she could make his life easier.

  In a perfect world no one would have to give up a single thing for it all to work. Couples juggled careers and kids, there were these superwomen who breastfed their way through their PhDs and managed to fit in the gym.

  Just Molly wasn’t one of them.

  And she wasn’t a very good transition girl either—because good transition girls didn’t go falling in love and thinking about juggling kids and work and whether they might make it—before he’d even asked. Didn’t sit ther
e crying when a career break opened up. No, they embraced it with open arms.

  Which meant the transition period was over.

  Tears in her eyes, Molly picked up her pen.

  They’d served their purpose. She’d helped him through a horrible rough patch, massaged his ego and given him a few long-overdue smiles—and he in turn had massaged hers too. She’d started with the sexual confidence of a gnat and was feeling a whole lot better in that department. She had stood up to Richard and moved on from the past.

  And it was time to move on from Luke too—because otherwise they were going to settle down and no matter how much she loved him, Molly loved herself more and she’d promised never to settle for second best.

  Signing the form, Molly knew she’d made the right choice.

  Because second best, to Luke, was what she was.

  ‘Oh, it’s you!’ Amelia didn’t even try to hide the disappointment on her face as kinder spilled out and Molly stood with the real mums, waiting. ‘How long will Dad be?’

  ‘He’ll probably be home by the time we get there.’ Molly had to unclench her teeth before answering, helping Angus with his laces as Amelia pulled on her ballet pumps.

  Amelia was as rude as she could be, and Angus was doing his bit too.

  But all that she could have dealt with, Molly thought sadly as they walked to the car.

  Four-year-olds with forked tongues Molly could handle.

  As long as Luke could see it too.

  She’d tried to tell him—gently at first—and now it seemed it was all she did. Moaned about something they’d said, or sat with pursed lips when he appeared not to notice.

  Each thinly veiled insult, each little trick was somehow deemed not important when she regaled it to Luke.

  ‘They’re kids, Molly,’ he’d say with a laugh, trying to make her see the joke, trying to get her to look at the lighter side.

  And often she could.

  Only this afternoon she couldn’t.

  ‘Why’s he having an interview when he’s already got a job?’ Angus actually spoke as she strapped him into his car seat. ‘Is he going to be doing a different job?’

  ‘He’s at a meeting, silly!’ Amelia made sure she strapped herself in.

  ‘No.’ Angus was adamant. ‘I heard him speaking to Nanny and he said he had an interview.’

  ‘What’s an interview?’ Amelia frowned.

  ‘To get a different job!’

  ‘He’ll still be a doctor,’ Molly said, ‘and at the same hospital.’

  ‘So why?’

  ‘Daddy’s got a very important job,’ Molly answered carefully, ‘and sometimes you have to be interviewed—it happens all the time. And Amelia’s right too.’ Her smile at the little girl wasn’t returned. ‘Today it’s more like a meeting.’

  She tried chatting as they drove home, but was ignored. Giving in, she turned up the radio as four little blue eyes in the back seat burnt holes in the back of her head.

  The trouble with the twins was that that’s what they were—trouble.

  Molly’s rear windows didn’t go up and down any more thanks to their frantic pushing, the owner at her local milk bar was struggling even to talk to her since they’d swiped some treats, and her already fragile ego was being dented further from Amelia’s constant jibes.

  ‘How old are you, Molly?’ Amelia asked sweetly.

  ‘Twenty-nine,’ Molly answered, forgetting herself and smiling into the rear-view mirror as Amelia actually talked to her.

  ‘And you still don’t have a husband!’

  ‘Why are we stopping?’ Angus asked at they pulled into the milk bar. ‘Are we getting a treat?’

  ‘Not today,’ Molly said through gritted teeth. ‘I need to post a letter.’ Tears stung her eyes as she did just that, because now she had to tell Luke.

  Not about the letter, though. About them.

  ‘Here we are,’ Molly said, opening up the house, utterly exhausted and longing for a couple of hours in bed before her shift. And even though she wasn’t particularly sure if she was going to say it yet, and even if she wasn’t particularly looking forward to saying it, still she was awash with relief when Luke’s car crunched into the drive. ‘And here’s Daddy!’

  Bearing gifts, too!

  ‘How did it go?’ Molly was dying to hear.

  ‘Tell you later! I got some pies for us.’ He kissed the twins then headed to the kitchen. ‘And some doughnuts for you two, if you eat your lunch!’

  ‘We’re not hungry,’ Amelia answered. ‘It was International Food Day today at kinder, remember!’

  ‘How could I forget?’ Luke gave a wry smile at the chaos littering the kitchen benches. ‘They told me at bedtime last night.’

  ‘What did you take for International Food Day?’ Molly asked.

  ‘Do you want to borrow my lipstick?’ Amelia ignored the question with one of her own. ‘To make you look prettier?’

  ‘Molly doesn’t need lipstick.’ Luke laughed, but Molly’s face was growing redder.

  ‘I think she does.’

  And it was the last straw.

  It was the straw that broke the camel’s back—or however the saying went. But whatever it was, and whether it was exhaustion or something else, something in Molly snapped as Luke appeared not to notice and just served up the pies.

  ‘Are you going to let her get away with that?’ The twins had dashed outside, slamming the door and running down the garden, leaving Molly and Luke sitting in uncomfortable silence—well, uncomfortable for Molly. Luke was just tucking into his pie and then frowning at the tone of her voice.

  ‘With what?’

  ‘Amelia—offering me her lipstick.’

  ‘She was being nice!’

  ‘No, Luke.’ Molly shook her head. ‘Believe me, she wasn’t being nice.’

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger, worked his way up to tell her. Only if he did start, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop.

  And he knew she didn’t want to hear it.

  Hear about the nightmares and wet beds and the tears and screams that usually filled their nights.

  About the notes from kinder and the child psychologist who told him to be patient and just give it time.

  That kids dealt with things differently, that kids grieved in different ways, and he should try to keep things normal.

  Normal!

  ‘I got the job!’ he said instead, totally off subject, but not to him.

  ‘Congratulations!’

  ‘Yeah!’

  His head was pounding with neuralgia—he’d got this job and again everything was going to change.

  And tonight he had to sit them down and tell them that.

  That they were starting in another new place, that they’d be seeing less of him, and even though in the long run it would be better, the whole thing was changing again.

  And now she wanted him to tell off two little kids who were just starting to get it that their mother wasn’t coming back.

  Not ever.

  ‘They miss their mum,’ he said instead, trying to keep his voice even. ‘Things are a bit tough right now.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Molly said through gritted teeth—only she didn’t, or couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

  ‘And, as careful as we’ve been, they’re not stupid. I think they’re starting to work out that we’re a bit more than friends—which we are.’

  ‘I’ll back off,’ Molly said.

  ‘I don’t want you to.’ And the shift she’d felt was happening again, toppling them both in a dangerous direction. ‘You know I want more!’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘So, what do you want, Molly?’ Luke asked. ‘You want to keep things casual, you don’t want to get too involved, but then you have the temerity to tell me how to raise my kids.’

  ‘I’m not telling you how to raise them.’ Molly struggled to keep the rising note out of her voice, because he was right—everything he said was right—but someho
w something had to be said. ‘Just if every now and then you could defend me…’

  ‘Defend you?’ He gave an incredulous snort. ‘From four-year-olds?’

  ‘Who can be very rude!’ There was a horrible silence, a horrible moment as she said more than she’d meant to, but the genie was out of the bottle now and there was no going back. ‘Look, Luke, they need consistency—to know their boundaries…’

  ‘I don’t need your opinion on my children, thanks, Molly, when you’ve made it very clear you don’t want to be in their lives…’

  ‘What I’m trying to say…’ She ran a tongue over her lips, tried, tried and tried again to put things better, knew she’d handled this appallingly. ‘I’m good with children—usually I’m really good with children—but here, in your home…’

  ‘You’re good with children at work, Molly,’ he snapped. ‘When you’re at work, yes, you’re great with kids. But as you’ve said on several occasions, the mummy thing just isn’t for you—and maybe you were wise to make that choice because frankly…’

  And she stood there as he killed her with words, as he voiced her deepest, darkest thoughts that maybe there was a reason she couldn’t have children, maybe she actually wasn’t good enough to be a mother.

  ‘Their mother died six months ago, for God’s sake, and you’re upset because Amelia talks about her too much. You want me to defend you—defend you who wants nothing more than a good time!’

  And there was no point.

  Just no point in answering back at all.

  It was as if they were standing on opposite rocks, screaming over some vast abyss that was just too big and too deep and too impossible to bridge.

  And maybe he was right, Molly thought. Maybe she was being unreasonable. And maybe she was right, too, in expecting a little bit of back-up from him every now and then. Only that wasn’t the point either.

  ‘It’s not about the kids,’ Molly croaked. ‘It’s about you and what you did. You left me for her, you sat in that café and told me that you missed her more than you’d expected to, that what we’d had…’ And it was as brutal to repeat the words as it had been to hear them. ‘Just didn’t measure up to what you had going with Amanda. And, you know, every time I walk in this place I’m reminded of that fact—that I’m not as good, that I’m not as funny or as beautiful or as clever.’