Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

Oh, he’d learned his lesson all right. He’d made a lifetime commitment to it. And nothing one little boy could do would change his mind.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kieran tried to focus on something brighter, less distressing. Abigail. Again. Funny how she popped straight into his mind. It had never once occurred to him that she’d be working in the same department he was going to. What if she insisted on being overly friendly at work? Worse, what if everyone already knew he was the father of her child? He cringed. That would put him on the back foot straight away. He was the head of the department, albeit temporarily, and fraternising with the staff was not good for staff relations.

Too late, boyo. The fraternising has been done, can’t be undone. Abigail has a child, your child. A boy named Seamus.

He would do his damnedest to keep that information under wraps. If he wasn’t already too late.

‘I’d better not be,’ he muttered.

All his muscles tightened. As they had done a thousand times on this trip whenever he thought about the situation. He still couldn’t believe he was a father.

Was that because he didn’t want to believe it?

He’d always taken care to avoid an accident of this kind. That’s why he bought condoms by the ton. But he knew the boy was his. He knew Abigail wasn’t one of those women who went from one man’s bed to the next without a care. Neither would she use something like pregnancy to snag a man into marriage. If that had been her intention, she wouldn’t have kept Seamus’s arrival a secret from him. No, Abigail was honesty personified.

Discomfort made him squirm as he remembered that night in Dublin two years ago. Both of them had been totally smothered in grief after the joint funeral of his sister and Abigail’s brother. They’d turned to each other for comfort, and for a few hours had forgotten everything as they’d discovered each other. He knew her all right. Intimately.

The plane shuddered. So did Kieran. His tense fingers ached, bent like claws. He squeezed his eyes tight. God, he hated flying. Think of something else, anything else. Abigail again. Wrong focus. But her image burned his eyeballs. As it had at unexpected moments ever since they’d made love.

‘Did I hear an Irish accent?’ Beside him the metal hook flicked in and out of the cotton. ‘What brings you out here?’

A hurricane of waist-length dark blonde hair, and long arms and legs. A quirky smile that challenged him, and piercing hazel eyes that devoured him. Abigail.

No. He hadn’t endured this agony to see her. ‘I’m working at the local hospital. I also have a three-year-old niece living here.’ And your son. What about him? If he mentioned Seamus then he was acknowledging the boy was a part of him. I’m not ready for that.

‘They’re a bundle of fun and tricks at that age. My grandson is into gardening at the moment, much to his mother’s consternation, digging being his favourite occupation.’

‘I can see how that could be a problem.’ What did Olivia enjoy doing? Damn it, who does Olivia look like? His sister? Or David? How tall was she? He didn’t know anything about her.

Appalled, he leaned his head back and stared at the moulded-plastic ceiling. He’d barely acknowledged any correspondence from Abigail about Olivia. He had behaved dreadfully, deliberately keeping out of touch. Arranging a regular money transfer from Dublin for Abigail to use for Olivia had been easy, and had salved his conscience whenever he’d thought there might be something he should be doing for his niece. No wonder Abigail hadn’t contacted him about Seamus. She must have a very low opinion of him. Would she be waiting at the airport with a bat to bludgeon him over the head so she could drag him home to see the children? He forced his fingers straight, loose. Expanded his lungs. He couldn’t blame her if she did.

Beside him the lady asked, ‘So, your niece, is she a Kiwi?’

‘Yes, she is, but she’s Irish as well. My sister married a doctor from here, a friend of mine.’ Best friend he’d ever had. ‘They were killed in a car accident in Dublin a couple of years ago.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ The woman glanced at him. ‘So the little girl has come over here to live with her father’s family?’

‘It seemed the best place for her, surrounded with lots of aunts and her grandfather. There’s only me available on her mother’s side and I live in the middle of Dublin. Not at all suitable for a small child.’ Not at all suitable for him. Thankfully, David and Morag had it written into their wills that if anything should ever happen to them, he and Abigail would be Olivia’s guardians, and she’d live with Abigail unless there was a very good reason why not. Which, of course, there wasn’t. Abigail was very caring; perfect for a small, bewildered child who’d just lost her parents.

His companion nodded at the window. ‘There’s Nelson City. We’ll be on the ground in a minute or two so you can relax now.’

‘You aren’t by any chance a psychologist?’ he asked her.

‘Just a canny old lady.’

‘What are you doing in early February? I could do with you distracting me again when I head home.’

‘I’m sure you could find a young lady to do that.’

That was absolutely the last thing he wanted. Or needed. He had a very comfortable lifestyle back in Dublin, one that didn’t allow for anyone else interfering with his comings and goings. He’d created a perfect life that didn’t involve … anyone. Especially not a family. Not with his appalling credentials. Not even Olivia and Seamus could change his belief on that.

Seamus, a good Irish name. A clever move on Abigail’s part? Or a name she liked more than any other? What did it matter what she’d called the lad? His jaw tightened some more. It shouldn’t, but the fact that she’d had his child and not mentioned it right up until he was days from leaving Dublin galled. Which wasn’t being fair to her. He knew he had a lot to make up to her for. But did he want to? It would mean getting to know the children, getting close to them. He shivered at the thought.

The plane’s wheels thumped onto the tarmac. On the ground again. The end of his journey at last. Something unfurled in the pit of his stomach. The knot caused by his fear of flying? No, this felt different. Like … excitement. No way. Did he even know what it felt like to be really excited? Abigail’s face floated into his mind, and the truth exploded through him. These feelings were all about her. The woman he’d never quite vanquished from his mind, from his body. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, laugh with her.

Reason enough to stay aboard the plane and fly back the way he’d come.

CHAPTER TWO

ABBY’S gaze was pulled to the plate-glass windows looking out over the tarmac and the disembarked passengers walking towards the terminal. Her nails dug painfully into her palms. One man towered above the rest of the passengers. Raven hair shining in the sun. A winning smile on a handsome face. He’d be exhausted after his long flight, but she’d never have guessed it from the way he carried himself. Shoulders back, legs swinging with confidence. As he came through the security door his gaze swept the terminal, searching. Then those twinkling eyes met hers and she saw the wariness in them. But then his smile broadened, oozing charm.

Her heart fluttered in her throat. That exact lopsided smile had once drawn her into bed with him. The urge to weep rose as unbidden memories teased at the fringes of her mind. Sweet memories of Kieran’s face next to hers on a white pillow, of her fingers pushing through his dark curls as they’d lain entwined in the hotel’s large bed, of his deep chuckle when she’d amused him.

It had been an unnatural time when emotions were raw, feelings bouncing all over the place. She’d be a fool to believe there was anything in those memories that could be rekindled now. She’d be a bigger fool to want anything close to that.

Remember, he’s probably angry with you. As if she needed reminding. The ache in her stomach was testament to days of waiting and worrying about that. This isn’t some happy reunion of two friends. Kieran Flynn has come here to work. Not to see you. And to say they’d been friends would be stretching the facts a little.

She gulped, tugged her shoulders back. Two children’s happiness depended on her getting along with this man, who was now approaching her. But how to get around the fact that just seeing Kieran made her forget everything except him?

She studied Kieran. Sexy. The word banged into her head. Instantly she was back in that hotel bed with him. Her cheeks warmed. Her silly heart tripped. It wouldn’t be easy, remaining neutral around Kieran. But she had to try. Starting right now.

‘Hi, Kieran, welcome to Nelson.’ Scintillating stuff, but her thought processes were mush. Try to squash the longing. Hang on to the fact that you’ve deceived him.

‘Hello, Abigail.’ And he dropped a light kiss on each cheek. Almost air kisses, kisses that meant absolutely nothing. Told her nothing. ‘It’s great to see you again.’

Oka-ay. The friendly approach. The friendly playboy approach. But, then, Kieran was known for his charm, so of course this would be second nature to him. She had to be careful not to be taken in by it all. She tried for a similar tone. ‘Same. Good to see you, I mean.’ Still making captivating conversation.

He stood, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Aha. His fingers were tense. He wore a wary smile on his face. Waiting for something? A more welcoming response from her? What was she supposed to say to him? How was she supposed to greet him? She didn’t know what he felt about the Seamus issue now that he’d had time to think about it. She hadn’t a clue how he felt about her since her revelation.

His back was ramrod straight, his chin jutting out defensively. He lifted a hand towards her, let it drop. ‘Thanks for coming to pick me up.’

Right, that helped. She knew exactly where she stood now. Not. Her hands fisted around her handbag strap. Then she got a whiff of that special Kieran scent of maleness and aftershave. She took a step back. A big step. That scent could undo all her resolve to remain neutral. It had lingered in the edges of her mind for two long, lonely years; teasing, annoying.

She forced a smile, worried he’d sense her unease. She hadn’t forgotten how perceptive he could be. ‘Kieran, I’m.’ She sucked a breath, tried again. ‘I’m really happy you’ve come. The family’s looking forward to seeing you again.’

‘How are they all? I guess the twins are out breaking the men’s hearts these days.’ This time he flashed a tired smile that had her feeling sympathetic towards him. Sympathy would draw her under his spell. That she couldn’t afford. So ignore it.

‘There have been a few casualties.’ She straightened her back again, tried for a smile. ‘Charlie and Steph have some parties lined up that you might like to go to.’ Where there’d be plenty of single women for him to enjoy the company of. Abby felt a spurt of envy. She’d love to go to a party. With Kieran.

His black eyebrows rose. ‘That’s kind, but I’m going to have to disappoint them. I’m here to work, not socialise.’

‘No one at the hospital expects you to spend the whole eight weeks tied to the A and E department. Dad’s hoping you’ll join the family for a meal on Friday night, and Olivia’s so excited about you coming. And so is Seamus, although he doesn’t really understand yet.’ From few words to too many. Brain mush again.

He stepped back, looked around cautiously. ‘They’re not here? With you?’ His glance settled on a little girl standing with a small group of people next to them.

Oh, my goodness, he doesn’t know what Olivia looks like. ‘They’re at home with their nanny.’

As he turned back and gave her another cautious smile, she added, ‘I’ve been working today. I was given time off to meet you, and take you to your apartment.’

‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’ His smile tugged at her heart, made her momentarily forget why she’d been so nervous.

She found her mouth lifting in a return smile. ‘You didn’t give me much choice.’

‘Bit abrupt, was I?’ His blue eyes fixed her to the floor.

‘Just a weensy bit.’ She nodded, biting down on the smile. She looked up into his face, and again felt her stomach muscles tighten with apprehension. How would she survive having Kieran living in her home town? Working in the ED department as her boss? Visiting his niece and son in her cottage? If he visited them. Of course he’d visit them. He had to.

Right now she was stunned at the depth of feeling she had for this enigmatic man tripping her up at every turn. She hadn’t expected that. Get back on track, the common-sense side of her brain warned. This was the day of reckoning, the day when she’d learn how Kieran intended dealing with the fact he was a father. It had been a long time coming, and yet she had always known it would come. Even if she’d had to wait another year, another five years, it would have come.

And she would never have been ready.

‘You’ve cut your hair,’ Kieran commented, feeling a pang of loss.

‘Too hard to manage with small children and their sticky fingers.’ She flashed him a half-smile.

She had beautiful hair. Even now. Cut in a soft style that tucked around her face Kieran wanted to reach out and touch the silky strands. He resisted with difficulty. Touching her would not help the situation.

Abigail’s nervous with me. She was trying to hide it but her give-away facial expressions told the truth. Pique rippled through him. He wasn’t used to being treated in such a deliberately offhand fashion. Of course she’d be apprehensive after shocking him about Seamus, but he’d just spent nearly two days travelling around the globe so he didn’t appreciate being treated like something dragged up from the bottom of a deep pond. He was the one who had something to be upset about. And hadn’t he been charming and friendly?

‘I apologise for the brevity of my email, but there seemed to be hundreds of things to be organised before I left home.’ He risked another smile. His smiles usually won him anything he wanted.

Abigail leaned closer, a whiff of some exotic flower tantalising him. She was no doubt only now recognising that she hadn’t been very welcoming. How would she make up for that? A light kiss?

She said, ‘Baggage claim’s outside.’

Great. Getting warmer. His heart banged against his ribs. He’d have to polish his charm if the next two months were to be bearable. ‘Right, let’s grab my gear and get out of here.’

As he turned to follow her, the old lady who had sat next to him on the plane waved and called softly, ‘You won’t be needing me next trip.’ Her head tilted at Abigail.

Oh, yes, he would. He might want to win a warm smile from the woman who’d shanghaied his brain but he couldn’t imagine taking a long-haul flight with her and Olivia. And Seamus, a little voice piped up in the back of his head. He winked at the old lady. ‘See you in February.’

Then he strode outside to the baggage claim area. As he did so he thought about the unexpected change in the warm, vibrant woman standing next to him. He’d first met her at his sister’s marriage to David. Abigail seemed quieter, more uptight than he recalled. Guess being a mother did that.

He totted up other changes he’d begun noticing. Abigail didn’t bounce on her toes any more. Her quick grin seemed to have flicked off permanently. Shadows lined the skin beneath her eyes. Life since they’d spent that wonderful night together had been harder on her than him.

A screech of tyres snapped through the air, followed by a thump. A woman screamed.

Another woman cried out, ‘Quick. Someone, help.’

Kieran met Abigail’s startled glance. ‘That our cue?’

She nodded, ‘I’d say so.’

‘I’m a doctor.’ Kieran squeezed past gaping faces and prodding elbows.

Abigail followed. ‘Let me through. I’m a nurse.’

‘He stepped right in front of me.’ A male voice sounded defensive. ‘I never had a chance to avoid him.’

Abigail dropped to her knees beside a prostrate man held down at his chest by the front wheel of a four-wheeled motorbike towing the baggage trailers.

Looking around, Kieran said, ‘Someone, call an ambulance.’

‘I’m onto it,’ a man answered.

Urgency underlined Abigail’s words. ‘We need that bike lifted away.’

Kieran searched the closest faces, found the driver of the bike, an orange safety jacket and a white face the give-away. ‘How many of us will it take to move this bike?’

‘Six, I reckon. I’ll unhook the luggage trailers.’ The man’s voice trembled as he stared down at the accident victim. ‘Is he going to be all right?’

Kieran gripped the driver’s shoulder. ‘We can’t say until we’ve had a proper look at him.’

‘He kind of tripped. I never saw him coming.’

Tripped? Stepped out? Fainted? Heart attack? Kieran tossed up scenarios. The unconscious man appeared to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties, so cardiac malfunction couldn’t be ruled out.

Turning to the pressing crowd, he spoke loudly and clearly. ‘Step back, everyone. Give us some space, please.’ He searched for strong men to help lift the quad bike away.

‘Abigail, you’ll have to move aside for a moment.’ He didn’t want her getting hurt if the lift went wrong and the bike toppled over.

She nodded. When their patient had been freed, she leaned close to him. ‘You weren’t meant to start work today.’

‘If you mean, am I alert enough after thirty-six hours’ flying? No, I’m probably not up to a full-scale emergency. But I think we can manage this between us.’ At least the patient might be happier to have him around than she appeared to be.

A shadow crossed her eyes, darkening them to the colour of well-cooked toast. ‘I only meant it’s not much of a welcome to Nelson.’

He squeezed her hand, suddenly in need of contact with her. Any contact. He wanted to establish a connection that would get him over the hurdles of the coming weeks. ‘Let’s look at our man.’

They knelt, one each side of their patient, and Abigail lifted the man’s wrist as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the bright daylight.

‘What happened?’ he croaked.

‘You’ve been knocked down by a quad bike,’ Kieran explained. ‘I’m Dr Flynn, and this is Abby Brown, a nurse. Can you tell me your name and address, please?’

As he answered, Abigail counted his pulse rate.

‘Paul Stokes, three Caper Drive, Richmond.’

Nothing wrong with the man’s coherence. Kieran gently felt Paul’s chest. ‘I’m checking your ribs for fractures.’

He didn’t add that if any ribs had been staved in a lung might be punctured. Pneumothorax was a distinct, and very serious, possibility.

His patient grunted through white lips, beads of perspiration covered his forehead. ‘It hurts like hell. When I breathe in.’

Around them people jostled for a look at the unfortunate man while others quickly collected their bags and disappeared.

Abby placed Paul’s wrist down at his side. ‘Pulse is elevated. The paramedics can run an ECG when they arrive.’

Kieran nodded, and asked their patient, ‘Do you remember feeling any chest pain before you were knocked down?’

Paul’s voice was weakening. ‘I felt odd. Like I couldn’t quite get enough air into my lungs.’ The words dragged out around his pain, his red face now grey.

‘Did you notice the bike before it ran into you?’ Kieran was aware of Abigail carefully checking their patient’s legs for any injuries inflicted when the bike had rammed him.

‘No. Just my weird breathing.’

Abigail muttered, ‘There’s swelling along the thigh, but no blood seepage. I’d like to remove these jeans and have a closer look at his right leg.’

‘It’ll have to wait,’ Kieran replied. ‘Okay, Paul, try to relax.’ He asked Abigail quietly, ‘Just how far away is the nearest hospital?’

A slow smile curved her lips and burned him with its warmth. At last, the Abigail he’d been looking for. ‘Nearest hospital? The only hospital. You’re not in Dublin now.’ Her smile widened, taking away any sting he might’ve found in her words. ‘The ambulance base is ten minutes from here if they get a clear run.’

Paul groaned, flapped his hands over his chest. ‘Worse,’ he gasped. His eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side.

Immediately Abigail located his neck pulse, shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

Cardiac arrest. Just what they needed. Kieran fisted his hand and gave a hard thump to Paul’s chest but the heart didn’t restart. ‘Compressions. Quick, or we’ll lose him.’

Abigail tilted the man’s head back to open his airway while Kieran placed his interlocked hands over Paul’s heart. As he pressed down and began counting the compressions, his admiration for Abigail’s efficiency crept through his mind. From the moment they’d first heard the dreadful thud of Paul taking a slam she’d been one step ahead of him. Now she held the man’s head, no doubt ready to take over the compressions if required.

Kieran continued the compressions. ‘Thirty.’ At his nod Abby checked Paul’s carotid pulse, shook her head. Kieran pressed down again. Thirty compressions. No pulse. Somewhere beyond the terminal a siren screamed. Please let it be the ambulance.

Abby placed her forefinger on the carotid artery. ‘Come on, Paul, breathe for us.’

Kieran pressed down, heard Abby gasp, ‘I think we have a pulse. Her mouth curved into a tender smile as she nodded. ‘Yes, definitely.’

Kieran sagged in relief. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He glanced up as the paramedics arrived. They would take over now. He grinned at Abigail. ‘We make a great team.’

Her smile wavered. ‘We do.’ She placed a hand on his arm and leaned close. Then suddenly jerked backwards.

Had she been about to kiss him? Disappointment surged through his tired body. If only she had. He squashed the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her. Properly. He had not come here to rekindle their fling. That had been a one-night, grief-blanking event. It had been absolutely magical, but never to be repeated. Sadness swamped him. Never? Never.

A sigh rippled across his bottom lip. ‘At least we know we work well together.’

‘We know more than that.’ Then she slam-dunked him. ‘We also made a beautiful little boy together.’

‘So that’s our new boss.’ Sally stood behind the nurses’ station in the emergency department, ogling Kieran as he chatted to two nurses. Two female nurses, who were having trouble keeping their jaws off the floor.

‘Yep, that’s him.’ Abby sighed wistfully. He already looked as though he belonged there. Five minutes and he had the staff eating out of his hand.

Kieran had come in from the airport in the ambulance with Paul Stokes. It hadn’t been necessary but he’d insisted, saying he’d feel happier about the situation. The female paramedics had acquiesced to his charm within seconds. Abby had screwed up the parking ticket she’d found under her windscreen wiper and followed the ambulance, her car filled with Kieran’s luggage. If she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he’d come for a year. But she did know better. Even if he finally accepted his son, Kieran wouldn’t be staying. His career always came first. Why was that? Did he continuously have to prove himself, like someone else she’d known?

‘Very tasty.’ Sally almost drooled.

‘You think so?’ Abby glanced in the same direction as her friend and felt a hitch in her throat as Kieran bent over the cardiac monitoring equipment attached to his patient, stretching his trousers across a very tidy backside. But totally agreeing with her closest friend didn’t mean she had to admit it out loud.

Happily married, Sally was in the business of finding Abby a husband, so far without success. Mainly because Abby had no interest in settling down with anyone ever again. She’d tried it once and had been scorched so badly she no longer trusted her own judgment.