Pregnant by the Playboy Surgeon

by Lucy Ryder

  Her belly clenched, then rolled greasily with panic. Could it really be true? Perhaps what she and Nicole Dawson had seen was a cyst...or a tumor? She couldn’t be so lucky as to be pregnant, could she? Not after the past few years of hell. Not after that devastating diagnosis.

  Maybe she should have another scan to be sure. Maybe the sonar had been faulty and maybe—

  A bubble of hysterical laughter popped, loud enough to startle her. She was losing it. Maybe she should just book herself into the psych ward because she was clearly having a mental breakdown.

  There was no mistake.

  She’d seen that little blob on the sonar herself, heard the unmistakable sound of a fetal heartbeat through the roar of blood in her ears. And, despite the shock, she’d distinctly heard the gynecologist say, “Congratulations, Dani, you’re pregnant.”

  Nicole had laughed and pointed to the monitor, where the tiny buds attached to the blob were moving like crazy, as if Dani’s child was waving at her and saying, Hey, Mom, look at me. I’m here.

  “Look at that,” Nicole had said, moving closer to the monitor. “I’ve never seen anything like it in such a young fetus.” She’d grinned as she’d tapped a few commands into her computer. “This little one’s already a fighter.”

  And in that instant Dani had fallen completely in love.

  The baby she’d never thought she’d have was already more than a heartbeat, already more than a dream. In a shocked daze she’d barely heard the specialist promise to send her a video of the scan. She didn’t recall heading down to the ER, clutching her prenatal prescription, to arrange a couple of weeks off before getting into her car and driving with no real destination in mind.

  She’d found herself at the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal and had purchased a ticket to Vancouver Island before she’d even known that she was heading home.

  Pressing a shaky hand to her belly, where a miracle bloomed, where life blazed defiantly despite the odds, Dani wondered how her parents would react to the news that their divorced daughter was pregnant. How they would feel about her bringing up her child alone.

  They loved her and would support her no matter what—she knew that. It wasn’t like a hundred years ago, or even fifty, when women had been ostracized for having children out of wedlock. She’d be fine. They’d be fine. Lots of women brought up children alone and they turned out great. It wasn’t as if she needed a man. She didn’t. She had a great support system who would only be too happy to help.

  The last thing she wanted was a man around just for the sake of his child. Not that she would keep the child from Dylan, Dani mused but that kind of relationship was doomed to fail from the start. Considering her one and only attempt at marriage had been such a disaster, there was no way she’d attempt another.

  Besides, Dylan didn’t love her. How could he? They’d only known each other a short time—although it seemed much longer. He liked the sex they were having but he didn’t love her and probably never would. What they had was explosive chemistry, and even explosions eventually lost energy and petered out.

  Would he think she’d lied? Probably. Would he think she’d deliberately tried to trap him? Definitely.

  Oh God, she thought with a shudder, he was going to be furious. He’d demand she get rid of it and then he’d make sure she lost her job, and—

  No, she chastised herself. That was Richard—not Dylan. But that didn’t mean he’d want to be tied to her because of an unplanned pregnancy. She knew how he felt about that. About that woman in West Africa.

  It might be the worst possible time to discover that her scarring had healed but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—be sorry. Not when she so desperately wanted this baby. Her baby.

  A little thrill worked its way past the panic. Her little miracle. Hers and Dylan’s.

  Dylan. Panic replaced the thrill until her chest ached and her vision swam. What would she say? What could she say?

  Oh, by the way, remember I told you I have Asherman’s? Well...funny story...seems like the doctor was wrong. And not only was he wrong but I guess he miscalculated the possibility of me falling pregnant too. So how do you feel about being called Daddy?

  Sure—she could just imagine how well that would go down.

  Not.

  He deserved to know—he was going to be a father, after all—but not yet. Not until she’d had time to get used to the idea herself—time to accept that a miracle had touched her life. And time, she thought fatalistically, to brace herself for the fallout.

  * * *

  For the seventh time in less than two minutes Dylan checked the address Maddie had given him and tried to ignore the annoying GPS voice telling him he’d reached his destination.

  That was really great, he thought dryly as he studied the neat house overlooking the Georgia Strait, where Dani had supposedly grown up. But what it didn’t tell him was why she’d come here when her life and her job were in Vancouver.

  He’d had no idea that she’d even been thinking of leaving the city. Leaving him. Early Wednesday morning, when he’d gone to the ER in search of her, he’d been missing her and planning a romantic weekend away. He’d found her curled up on the sofa in the break room and something powerful had moved through him as he’d dropped to his haunches and smoothed the messy curls off her face.

  He’d kissed her soft sleepy mouth, his body tightening when she’d hummed in the back of her throat and slid languid fingers through his hair. He’d left her looking flushed and aroused, as though she’d been missing him too.

  By the next day she was gone.

  For almost forty-eight hours she hadn’t answered her phone or returned any text messages. He’d been frantic, thinking something bad had happened to her, and had called every hospital in the city to find out if she’d had an accident and wasn’t able to call him. For God’s sake, she’d been dizzy and nauseous for weeks—she could have passed out behind the wheel of her car.

  When he’d finally heard from her it had been a hurried voice message saying that something had come up and she’d be out of town for a while.

  That had been a week ago—which was how long it had taken him to clear his schedule and, more importantly, track her down.

  The ball of slow-burning anger that had lodged in his chest right beside fear and concern flared brighter. She’d kissed him as though she couldn’t get enough—as though he was more to her than a colleague and neighbor with benefits—and then she’d just walked away.

  He hadn’t heard anything from her since that cryptic message five days ago that had made his gut clench with fear and his chest tighten.

  “Hi, it’s Dani,” she’d said, sounding shaky. “I’m... Uh... Something came up and I’ll be out of town...a while.” She’d paused and exhaled noisily before continuing. “Look, Dylan, I...we...” She’d cleared her throat. “Oh boy,” she’d muttered. “This is hard. There’s just a few...um...things I need to take care of. I’ll... I’ll call you, okay? Soon...later. Um...bye.”

  It was obvious even to a blind man that she was either in some kind of trouble or she was dumping him. And if she was in trouble why hadn’t she come to him? Surely she knew he’d be there for her? Surely she had to know that he was falling for her?

  Hell, he’d done everything but give her the words.

  Was that why she’d run? Why she wasn’t answering or returning his calls? Had she realized that he’d ignored their “temporary” rule and started thinking long-term? Had she panicked because she wasn’t feeling the same?

  Neither her friends in the ER nor Maddie knew anything—or if they did they weren’t talking.

  When he’d called Cole’s sister to find out if she knew where Dani had gone, and why, the first words out of her mouth had been, “What have you done?”

  Maybe he was a clueless male but he had absolutely no idea. And if he listened to her voice message over and over—more t
o hear her voice than to figure out what she wasn’t saying—no one had to know but him.

  Her disappearance had hit him hard, left him reeling. He’d sat on his empty houseboat feeling as though someone had ripped open his chest and stuck a jagged stake through his heart. Unable to stand his bed without her in it, he’d crashed on the sofa, only to stare at the roof all night.

  It was during those dark hours that he’d finally admitted the sobering truth. He wasn’t falling for Dani. He’d already fallen—with a rude jolt. And, lying there, all he’d been able to think about was how bleak the future would be without her in it.

  He was crazy in love—the can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t think kind of insanity—with a woman who gave covert ops a bad name. Hell, special forces could learn a thing or two about escape-and-evade tactics from one sweet and frustratingly elusive ER doctor with big gray eyes and a husky laugh.

  But, then again, Dylan hadn’t become the best reconstruction ortho surgeon in British Columbia by sitting back and letting success come to him. And he’d be damned if he’d meekly wait around for Dani to get around to dumping him in person.

  He knew about her marriage and he understood why she was wary of men and commitment. But she hadn’t really given them a chance. The entire time they’d been together she’d had one foot out the door, despite all his efforts to lure her all the way in.

  Now, clenching his jaw, he shoved open the Jeep’s door and slid out, slamming it behind him, ignoring the fear edging his frustration. He had to get her back, he admitted to himself. Life just wasn’t the same without her.

  Looking forward to the coming confrontation, he started down the driveway to the house and took the steps in a single bound. Dani’s battered sedan was the only car out front, so he was confident he had the right address. But after five minutes of punching the doorbell he was still outside, cooling his jets.

  After a brief battle with himself he set off around the house, beginning to panic because she might be lying injured somewhere. Maybe she was still dizzy and had fallen and hit her head. Maybe she was bleeding out and needed an ambulance. Maybe... Yeah, he thought with a disgusted snort. And maybe he needed to get a damn grip.

  She could be out shopping or... Or out with another man, he thought darkly. Maybe this wasn’t her parents’ house but the home of an old lover—or maybe a new lover. Maybe she’d met someone else and didn’t know how to tell him.

  Battling his visions of her lying helpless and unconscious—or laughing with another man—he headed around the house, passing flowerbeds in a profusion of colors and a neat vegetable garden that looked well-tended, reaching a sprawling deck overlooking the strait. Although it was obvious by the empty glass and abandoned book that someone had recently been sitting there, it was now deserted. The sliding doors were locked and the house appeared empty.

  He was just about to return to his car and wait for someone to show up when he noticed an open gate at the end of the landscaped garden. Realizing it opened onto some steps that led to the beach, he followed his instincts and found himself on a sweep of forest-ringed sand littered with rocks, driftwood and beach debris.

  A visual sweep told him it was deserted, except for a single figure about a quarter-mile away. He knew instinctively that it was Dani, sitting hunched on the sand while a dog played in the nearby surf, barking at the seagulls and chasing the crabs.

  At the sight of her something in his chest expanded and squeezed with a painful clench. Anger flared, and even if it hid an all-encompassing relief that she was okay he wasn’t about to let it distract him from his purpose. He was going to get answers and he was done with playing her games.

  Flexing his jaw, Dylan took off down the beach toward the only person in the world who could make him crazy. The one woman, he’d realized this past week, he could not—would not—live without. She’d sneaked past his defenses, burrowed under his skin and dug deep furrows into his soul, filling them with her sweetness, her surprisingly wicked sense of humor and with the quiet gray eyes that could look into him and see everything.

  She’d teased him with something he never thought he’d find.

  A future.

  Now all he needed was to get her to accept that he could be her future too.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHEN THE TONE of Polo’s bark changed, Dani turned to see what had disturbed him and froze at the sight of the figure walking along the beach toward her.

  No, she amended, her heart fluttering with both excitement and apprehension. Stalking toward her. Like a large hungry predator with his unsuspecting prey in sight.

  Dylan.

  Hands jammed deep in his jeans pockets, he radiated a kind of masculine intent that sent exhilaration shooting up her spine along with a healthy dose of wariness. It was there in the set of his wide shoulders, in the deceptively lazy movement of his long muscular legs, and it was all she could do not to bolt to her feet and take off in the opposite direction.

  Oh God, she thought, her belly cramping with nerves. He’d found her before she was ready. Found her before she could shore up her shaky defenses.

  With determination in every line of his big, tough body he closed the distance and she knew there was no escaping what was to come. No escaping him.

  But then again, she thought, swallowing past the lump of emotion forming in her throat, maybe she’d never really had a chance. Maybe her fate had been sealed the moment they’d met—the moment she’d looked up into those moss-green eyes and heard him ask if she was okay.

  She wasn’t okay. She’d never be okay again. And waiting for him to cross those last hundred yards left her jittery and excited.

  This is it, she thought as resignation filled her. Time’s just run out.

  And yet she couldn’t stop her gaze from clinging, filing away the image of him as he came toward her, so big and safe and familiar. Familiar and yet there was something new...something just a little bit dangerous in the way he’d locked onto her like a heat-seeking missile.

  His mouth and his shadowed jaw were set in grim lines, exaggerated by the dark aviator wraparounds that hid his eyes from view. He looked both familiar and foreign. It was that foreignness that had Dani inhaling shakily and drawing her knees to her chest.

  Wrapping her arms around her shins, she waited.

  Sensing her distress, Polo trotted over, whining and pressing his body against hers. Glad of his comforting presence, she slung an arm around him and hugged him close as Dylan came up behind her.

  For long moments he said nothing. The air seemed to prickle with awareness, and the heavy silence frayed her already ragged nerves.

  Finally, he said quietly, “You’re a difficult woman to find.”

  There was no sign in his deep voice of the tension she could feel blasting off him in waves.

  Feeling unbearably drained—inexplicably miserable—she dropped her forehead to her knees. “What are you doing here, Dylan?”

  “The bigger question,” he drawled roughly, “is what are you doing here, when your life, your job, your friends are in Vancouver?” He didn’t have to say that he was in Vancouver but it hung in the air between them like an unspoken challenge.

  Feeling at a disadvantage, she sighed and rose to her feet, staggering when the abrupt change in elevation had her blood pressure plummeting.

  He cursed and snatched her against him before she could face-plant in the sand at his feet. “You’re still sick? Have you seen a physician?”

  The urge to cling was too great to ignore and she found herself clutching his shirt, her body taking advantage of his heat and strength. She felt weak as a kitten, so tempted to just lay her head against his chest and close her eyes.

  She shook her head to clear it. God, she was so tired. She just wanted to slide into sleep but she needed all her wits about her.

  “You haven’t?” he demanded softly, his long surgeon�
�s fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arms as though he was fighting a battle within himself as to whether he would shake her or pull her close. “This has gone on long enough.”

  She heard him through the roar of blood in her ears and could only shake her head.

  “Let me take you back. I’ll examine you myself.”

  Her throat unlocked enough for her to croak, “No.” She shoved at him and stood swaying for a moment while her head cleared. “You won’t.”

  She made herself move away when all she wanted to do was sink into him and take a nap. But she couldn’t—didn’t have the right. Not with what she was keeping from him.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re clearly not,” he countered, frustration and concern making him scowl at her. “Not when just rising to your feet leaves you shaky and pale.”

  He cursed when she blew out a gusty breath.

  “Fine,” he said curtly, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. Once you’re at a hospital I’ll order a batch of tests and find out what’s wrong.”

  Shoving her tangled hair off her face, she gave a laugh as shaky as her legs. “That’s ridiculous.”

  She sighed and rubbed her face, hoping to get some feeling back into her numb cheeks while he just narrowed his eyes.

  “I don’t need an ambulance. I just need a week, that’s all. A week. I told you I need to sort out some...uh...stuff.” She pressed her fingers against her pounding temples and wished they wouldn’t throb in counterpoint to her racing pulse. “Go home, Dylan. Please. I’m fine. It’s nothing a week being fussed over by my mother won’t cure.”

  Nothing seven months won’t cure, a voice in her head reminded her.

  “And then I’ll be back. I promise.”