From Doctor to Daddy

by Becky Wicks

  ‘Is here OK?’ Fraser asked Esme. ‘You getting a good shot, Spielberg?’

  ‘Here is perfect—plant it next to mine!’

  Sara dug with the tiny shovel, trying not to over-analyse everything that was going on with Fraser. Instead she found herself studying Esme in the sunlight. The way her little nose and eyes crinkled as she concentrated was adorable. She’d long thought these quirks and expressions reminded her of something and had always assumed it was home. If home could be a person, not a place.

  Their guide crouched down, smiling with kind eyes. ‘You know, in two years’ time you can come back and pick your fruit to eat.’

  ‘I might not have two years,’ Esme said bluntly, pointing to the line poking out above her clothing. ‘See this catheter? It means I have a robo-kidney. They’re really smart, but they don’t keep you alive for ever.’

  ‘Baby, don’t say things like that!’ Sara was horrified.

  The poor guide looked frazzled.

  ‘It’s true, though, Mummy. Isn’t it, Dr Fraser?’

  Sara felt sick. She tried to stand but she felt Fraser taking her elbow, keeping her in place.

  He turned to Esme. ‘Of course you have two years—and much more than that, lass. You’ve got a whole lot of exciting stuff still to do.’

  ‘But I don’t have a donor.’

  Esme sounded matter-of-fact, as if she’d thought about this endlessly and had come to terms with it. It made everything so much worse.

  Sara let Fraser hold her down, trying to soak up his strength. He was right. She had to act normal. But this kind of thing was normal for her. Maybe it always would be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘ARE YOU READY to watch your mum do something really cool?’

  Esme jumped up and down with glee as Fraser led them all to where an instructor was pulling lifejackets out of a plastic container on the shoreline, three feet away. Fraser took a small one and carefully buckled Esme into it. Sunbeams were glinting off his sun-kissed skin. He stepped closer to help Sara fasten the straps of her own lifejacket.

  ‘No need to worry,’ he told her, inches from her face. ‘This guy knows what he’s doing with newbies.’

  The way he tugged on the straps was possessive, purposeful, pulling Sara closer to him with each tug.

  ‘I trust him,’ she said. She looked Fraser in the eyes. ‘I trust you.’

  He smiled, but cocked an eyebrow. ‘Do you?’

  ‘I want to.’

  ‘I’ll take that for now.’

  He winked at her and she knew their earlier confrontation was forgotten. Of course she didn’t think there was anyone else. He was hiding something, but he’d told her he would tell her eventually—which probably meant it was a surprise or something. She wouldn’t put it past him; he’d always been a huge romantic.

  At any rate, they had bigger concerns.

  ‘Any word from Renee about the ship yet?’ she asked him. Already she was hot in the lifejacket. The water was a pale inviting blue on the white sand.

  He pulled out his phone for the hundredth time in the last hour and checked it. ‘Nothing. I’m sure everything is under control. No news is good news, right?’

  Sara frowned as he dropped it into a waterproof bag. That wasn’t always the case. They’d had no news about a donor for Esme, ever.

  She found herself resisting the urge to let her fingers rub a smear of sunscreen into his shoulder as he turned to their instructor, Ruben. How she’d let him talk her into going out on water skis she had no clue, but this was her holiday, too. She had to find something to tell her sister about—something exciting that she’d never done before.

  ‘OK, you’re looking good,’ Fraser said, and she watched his gaze sweep her breasts in her bikini, and then her legs as he stepped back on the sand. ‘You’re looking really good. But I’ve told you that before.’

  ‘Have you been water skiing before, either of you?’ Ruben asked them. He was short and bald, in a black T-shirt and board shorts.

  Sara shook her head, no, as Fraser said yes. She couldn’t help her eyes lingering on the grooves of his six-pack as he pulled on his own lifejacket, recalling how she’d run her hands over him, her lips glued to his, almost desperate for more after so long apart.

  She tried to focus as Ruben demonstrated how to make the most of her time on the water. ‘Now, the important thing to remember is that if you fall, don’t resist—just let go.’

  ‘Don’t resist—just let go. OK.’

  They covered how she should assume the proper cannonball position, how she should keep her knees together, and how to let the boat do all the work—and the whole time Fraser nodded and murmured in agreement, as though he’d done it a thousand times and couldn’t wait to get in the water.

  She wondered whether anything ever scared Fraser Breckenridge, because if it did she’d never seen it. Except his father, she thought suddenly, surprising herself. And the thought of losing his mother. Fraser had always put his family first.

  In the tender boat, Fraser made sure she and Esme were seated properly before he took his place beside her. Esme was beside herself with excitement. Sara watched her film Fraser putting a medi-bag into a waterproof bag.

  ‘You’re not about to miss a second, are you Spielberg?’ Fraser laughed. ‘How long is this movie going to be when you’re done?’

  ‘Long enough for two sequels,’ Sara told him, shaking her head.

  Before long they were chugging out into the turquoise water. Every now and then she caught the reflection of another boat or a snorkeler in Fraser’s sunglasses as the scenery swept past.

  ‘Do you want to go first, or should I?’ he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  She turned to him. The wind was tugging his hair in all directions. She noticed a few flecks of grey in his stubble she’d never seen before.

  ‘I think you should go first,’ she said.

  ‘That could be a bad idea.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘What if you’re so intimidated by how awesome I am that you don’t even want to take your turn?’

  She laughed. ‘If anything, I’ll be better than you. I don’t weigh as much.’

  He made a pffft sound. ‘I don’t think weight has anything to do with it.’

  Their instructor turned around. ‘Actually, the skis are made for different weight ranges, so it is quite important to use a pair that suits your size.’

  Sara smirked. ‘Better stick to medicine, Chief.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll go first. Show you how the pros do it.’

  Ruben glided the boat to a stop and turned off the engine. Fraser stood up, puffing out his chest in the lifejacket, making Esme giggle.

  The boat was bobbing now that they were on relatively open water. A jet ski was already cutting through the waves nearby. The couple on the back were passengers on the Ocean Dream—the pair who were always arguing, Sara realised now, noting the guy’s long ponytail and his back patterned with tattoos.

  She turned to Fraser, now sliding his feet into the bindings.

  ‘Ready!’ he called, assuming the starting position.

  The muscles rippled in his arms as he gripped the handle. He looked like some kind of James Bond extra, wearing black gloves and red shorts. He gave the camera a salute before Ruben drove on a little faster, then faster, till Fraser rose on the skis, standing up straight, skidding along behind them.

  Sara watched in awe as his body twisted and weaved in the waves. The wind seemed to soften, allowing him to be at one with the water...right before he hit a rogue wave and toppled over.

  Sara’s breath caught. Fraser disappeared, but in seconds he was popping up again, straight back onto the skis, skidding on the surface as before. Esme was squealing in delight. The spray showered up around him in all directions. James Bond had nothing on Fraser.


  Something else caught her eye. She froze. There in the surf to the right of Fraser, shining and glittering and leaping, was a dolphin.

  ‘Esme, look!’ she cried.

  Esme’s eyes grew round. Fraser had seen it too. He steadied himself expertly as the dolphin continued to swim alongside him. Mesmerised, Sara watched its long, silvery body gleaming in the light before it reached the boat and appeared to circle around them.

  ‘Wow!’

  The dolphin darted and zipped underneath the boat, and then swam alongside, leaping and bounding in their spray. She turned to look for Fraser again, but what met her eyes was a scene of horror.

  The couple on the jet-ski were heading straight for him.

  ‘Fraser!’

  In a blink it was over. The rope was flailing on the water but Fraser had disappeared.?

  ‘Fraser!’ Hot tears flooded her eyes as she scrambled to try and see him. ‘Where is he?’ She turned to Ruben. ‘He’s gone!’

  Esme was crying.

  ‘It’s OK, baby,’ she soothed her.

  Ruben cut the engine. The girl on the jet-ski was screaming hysterically. Mr Ponytail looked panicked. In a second Sara was in the water, swimming as fast as she could towards the spot where they’d collided. But swimming was not her strong point. A million scenarios screamed through her head, even as her professional voice was telling her to stay calm, to conserve her energy.

  He still hadn’t surfaced. Then there was a movement in the water below her. A hand on her leg. She drew in a sharp breath, spinning around. Fraser was coming up right in front of her, blinking. She reached for him, holding on to his lifejacket, letting them float along together while she caught her breath. Tears were still stinging her eyes with the salt water.

  ‘I’m OK.’

  She saw the panic in his eyes. His wet, handsome face was dripping an inch from hers.

  ‘I’m OK. But the coral got me.’

  She released him. ‘What?’ He was wincing now. Then she noticed the blood. It was turning the water red around them.

  ‘I’m shark bait.’

  ‘Not funny.’ She spun her head in all directions. Ruben was already driving the boat to their side. Mr Ponytail and his girlfriend were hovering on the jet-ski, yelling at each other.

  ‘You could’ve killed him, Trevor!’ the girl was screaming.

  For one sickening moment Trevor looked as if he was going to hit her.

  ‘Hey, it’s OK,’ Sara called out, aware of Esme watching it all.

  Trevor reined back his hand, as though reconsidering his violent outburst. The dolphin was nowhere to be seen.

  Ruben helped Fraser onto the boat and Sara hauled herself up after him. Blood was spilling down Fraser’s right thigh and calf to the floor. She hurried to grab some towels, and when she turned back she saw he was lowering himself to the floor, leaning against the side of the boat. The bulk of him was heavy as he rested on her shoulder for a moment.

  Esme got to her knees, concern written all over her face. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘We have to get the coral out of me before I turn into a reef,’ he told her, bringing his leg up and holding it around the calf. Esme looked stunned, but the blood didn’t faze her.

  ‘Esme, go and sit with Ruben,’ Sara said, pulling the waterproof bag towards her and unscrewing a bottle of water.

  Fraser winced as she dabbed at the cut. Blood was gushing from the wound, soaking the towels.

  ‘You’re cut up pretty badly—you might need stitches. Ruben, take us back to the shore as quickly as you can.’

  ‘I’ll be OK,’ Fraser insisted. ‘We’ll just clean it and bandage it for now. You need to take your turn.’

  Was he serious? ‘Are you insane? Fraser, we need to get you back...’

  ‘Sara, I’m fine.’

  ‘You could have died!’ She was pouring alcohol onto a cloth from the medical kit but the words made her choke. She paused with the cloth in her hand. ‘I could swear I saw him hit you.’

  He caught her wrist, right before she could apply the alcohol. ‘You’re shaking,’ he whispered, so Esme couldn’t hear them. ‘Sara, the jet ski hit the rope, not me. It didn’t touch me. I saw it coming and I got out of the way. I just went too deep onto the coral. I’m OK.’

  She snatched her hand away. ‘You almost weren’t.’

  She pressed the cloth to his wound, catching the blood as it continued to trickle down his calf. He sucked in a breath. He was right. She was shaking.

  The phone rang and Fraser pounced on it. She listened as he said, ‘OK, thanks...’ in a way that didn’t even hint at what had just happened to him. Her heart kept on thudding erratically.

  ‘The restaurant’s reported a couple of complaints this week,’ he said. ‘They’re shutting down while they fix their air-con.’

  ‘Oh, that’s not good.’

  ‘Well, at least no one else on the ship ate there; they’ve accounted for everyone and no one is showing any symptoms. The good news is that it’s not the Ocean Dream, so we’re in the clear.’

  ‘Can we do anything?’

  At the question Sara turned to see Mr Ponytail, still bobbing at the side of the boat. His girlfriend was quiet now, but she had a face like thunder. Had they been arguing before this accident had happened? Was that why this guy had been distracted?

  ‘You can be more careful next time,’ she told him, pulling hydrogen peroxide from the bag. ‘Go back to the ship—we’re fine here.’ She mixed it with fresh water and started flushing the wound. ‘And I suggest you stop these public displays of...whatever it is...on the ship. You don’t know who’s watching.’

  ‘Pot, kettle, black,’ Trevor replied quickly, looking between them.

  Fraser scowled as Sara’s cheeks flamed and the couple sped off.

  There was still no sign of the dolphin.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FRASER STUDIED SARA’S suturing handiwork on his tanned leg. The stitches looked a bit like a constellation, he mused, observing the shape and doing his best not to bunch up his face in discomfort.

  ‘Looking good, thank you,’ he told her as she placed the gauze and needle beside the bed and pulled off her gloves. ‘What would I have done without you?’

  ‘You’d probably have a coral reef starting to grow in your leg. Esme believes you about that, you know.’

  He swung his body from the bed, sitting on the edge of it. His limbs were achy and tired. He knew he’d be bruised tomorrow from the force of the blow.

  ‘You’d look quite cute with a little Nemo swimming around you,’ she said, packing up the medical kit. ‘Still, you were lucky it wasn’t worse.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’ Sara paused and looked at the carpet. ‘I shouldn’t have even been out there, Fraser. What if something worse had happened to me? What would Esme have done?’

  ‘You can’t put your entire life on hold because of what might or might not happen, Cohen. You were having a good time out there before the accident, weren’t you? We all were.’

  She dropped the bag on the bed beside him. ‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can run off and be irresponsible whenever I choose.’

  ‘You weren’t being irresponsible. That stuff is called living your life.’

  She was quiet, contemplating the notion.

  He reached for her hand, moved the bag and sat her down next to him on the bed. ‘All this to see a dolphin.’

  ‘What is up with that couple anyway?’ she asked. ‘Do you think there’s something dark going on there? Whenever I see them they’re arguing.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘If not loudly then really, really quietly in a corner somewhere, which is worse.’

  ‘Much worse,’ she agreed. Then she looked at him. ‘We don’t do that, do we?’

  He
grinned, and she clearly couldn’t hide her smile either. ‘I should probably go,’ she said, a little reluctantly.

  ‘Maybe you should.’ He kept his hand over hers on the bed, then turned her head towards him. He could barely conceal what she was doing to him, being so close right now on the bed.

  He shifted, turning his body towards her, ignoring the pain as it ripped through his leg. He hadn’t wanted Renee to walk into the medical centre and see him like this, so they’d come straight here, and now he was finding it impossible not to touch her.

  ‘Don’t move just yet,’ Sara admonished, standing up.

  He saw her eyes drift over his bare torso, felt the energy course between them as she wrestled visibly with her own desires.

  It had started to rain outside. He could hear it pattering on the circular windows. The ship was swaying, even though they were still in port. They weren’t leaving for another day, when they’d be cruising on to Antigua, but in bad weather a lot of people tended to stay on the ship, where they knew food and shelter were guaranteed.

  ‘I have a job to do.’ She still wasn’t moving.

  ‘You’re not on duty for another hour.’

  ‘This just...isn’t a good idea.’

  ‘I happen to think it’s a very, very good idea. See how stressed you are? We can easily fix that.’

  Sara bit back another laugh as he urged her to stand between his legs. ‘You’re making it way too easy to be distracted,’ she said.

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  He put his hands to her waist and pulled her even closer. Hang doing nothing more than kissing—they wanted each other, didn’t they? He’d wanted her since the second Anton had phoned him and recommended her for the job on the dialysis team. They didn’t have to sleep together just yet. But he didn’t mind if they upped things from PG a little.

  Sara narrowed her eyes in front of him. ‘I’m supposed to be keeping away from you...this...’