Surprise Twins For The Surgeon

‘Relax. I won’t buy anything unusual.’ He was already at the door. ‘I’ll be about half an hour.’

‘How are you going to get into the complex?’

When his eyes widened his eyebrows almost disappeared under the thick dark-blond waves lying on his forehead. ‘What’s your number?’

She rattled it off. First night in Dubrovnik and she was already giving out her details. She spluttered into her wine. Not bad at all for an uptight, I don’t do overly friendly woman. Then, ‘Take my keys. If you’re a friend of Karolina’s I’m sure I’ll be safe.’

His eyebrows disappeared completely this time. But he did take the keys.

When the door closed behind Kristof she took her glass and headed for the small bathroom off to the side. One look in the mirror had her gaping. Red cheeks, sunken eyes, hair that looked as if she’d been dragged through a gorse bush backwards, and skin on her neck and shoulders the colour of strawberries. Very pretty. Her skin matched the bikini, which was something positive, she supposed.

Taking a deep drink of her champagne, she stripped away Kristof’s jersey and jeans, then folded them to put in a bag for him to take home. Bringing her, a stranger, clothes had been kind. But kindness might be his middle name. He hadn’t hesitated to help her out when he was apparently in a hurry to get home.

And changed circumstances or not, she shouldn’t be hesitating over getting on with her holiday despite everything, should instead turn it into an opportunity. She had to stop overthinking the hurt going on in her heart.

But was the hurt really in her heart? Or was it her pride smarting because once again she’d got it wrong? She hadn’t been good enough for a guy she’d been halfway to being in love with? Her shoulders drooped. She was trying too hard to find someone to love her unequivocally.

A sip of champagne didn’t bring any answers, only the reminder that she needed to be busy and make the most of what she did have. Starting with another mouthful of champagne and then washing her hair. Those bruises from tripping over that step were already colouring up. Serve her right for not watching where she was going. What a day. Suddenly Alesha was ravenous. Hopefully her saviour wouldn’t be too long with the food. Another glimpse of him wouldn’t go astray either. So much for being unhappy about Luke.

* * *

Kristof stared at the shapely butt in front of him as Alesha reached up into the cupboard for plates. His jeans and jersey had been covering a figure that had his blood thickening and his manhood tightening. Now wearing fitted white jeans with a sleeveless turquoise top and thin-strapped sandals, Alesha looked stunning. Beyond beautiful. There were curves in all the right places, making his mouth water. But he already knew what those curves looked like, had felt their power on his libido. He could imagine those long legs wrapped around him when he should not be imagining anything of the sort. They didn’t know each other. How long did it take to be attracted to a woman? Especially one as beautiful as Alesha?

She’s a Kiwi; we’re from different hemispheres. It wouldn’t work even if I tried.

Mixed relationships, as in each partner being from a different country, did not work. Hadn’t for his parents, or for him and his German wife.

‘What did you get?’ the woman causing his body all sorts of problems turned to ask.

‘Deep fried squid and salad.’

‘Yum. Exactly what I need.’

‘Glad to oblige.’ He looked away to gather his equilibrium around his overheated body. He did not want Alesha noticing his reaction to her. She wouldn’t thank him. In the circumstances, she might find it disrespectful, if not down and out lecherous. He didn’t do lecherous, thought it despicable. Women should be respected. Make that most women. Not his ex-wife, who had emptied his bank account and ramped up his credit cards to max while he was lying in a hospital bed recovering from surgery to fix a broken collarbone, damaged while saving her dratted dog from the ledge it had fallen over.

‘I put your beer in the fridge while you were gone.’

Back to practical things. Food and beer. Excellent. Not sex. Excellent. Breathe. ‘The fish restaurant was the closest and I know they do fabulous meals, having eaten there often.’

‘Would you prefer a glass of champagne now?’ Alesha asked. Her glass sat on the bench nearly empty.

‘I’ll take a pass, thanks. Shall we eat outside? There’s a table under cover around the corner, and the wind’s dropped. I like getting out in the fresh air after a day at work.’ He didn’t like the idea of being cooped up in this small inside space with Alesha. Not now he’d begun noticing more things about her best avoided. As lovely as she was, a short fling was probably not a wise move. There again, why not? Because she’d very recently been dumped. That was why. She was hurting, didn’t need a rebound affair.

‘Outside’s good. I’m warm after my shower.’ There was a slight slur going on in her speech.

He set plates and forks on either side of the table and opened the container from the restaurant. ‘After you,’ he said, indicating the chair opposite.

When she pulled up a chair next to the one he was going to use his first instinct was to move to the other side, but she’d be affronted and he didn’t want that. After the day he’d had and spending the last hour sorting out Alesha’s problem, he craved peace and quiet to eat and then he’d go back to his mother’s house, hopefully for an uninterrupted night’s sleep. Although that wasn’t guaranteed—no one ever knew when the next child would arrive on the doorstep, brought in by the police or a distraught neighbour.

It was draining enough doing this work for a week at a time. How his mother coped year in, year out, he had no idea, except she was resilient and had come through a lot in her life, including putting up with his father’s affairs to be there for her son until she finally couldn’t take any more. He had nothing to complain about really and next week he’d be back in London working every hour available dealing with his scheduled list of patients that was endless.

‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Alesha commented as she loaded her plate with salad. Her shoulder bumped against his. Deliberate or accidental?

‘Just letting go of the day.’ He shifted his chair sideways.

‘Tell me more about this place you’re helping out at. It must be quite big to have an operating theatre.’

‘Like I said, it’s a shelter for neglected children. The operating theatre’s tiny. Not a lot of operations are done there. Take today. A wee girl was found hidden in bushes under the Dubrovnik bridge, cold, hungry and with numerous injuries. She hasn’t spoken a word, has had surgery, and faced strangers poking at her and asking questions, and just stands there staring around as though nothing’s real.’

‘Except the pain in her heart.’

‘Exactly. One look in her eyes and you can see it, you know? It’s huge, and everyone accepts it’s going to take a long, long time to lighten it.’

‘If they ever do.’ A layer of sadness settled in Alesha’s eyes and voice.

She really got it. Did that mean she’d been hurt badly in the past? Or was there a massive heart inside that chest that understood people? ‘At least she’s safe now, but what the future holds is anyone’s guess.’ Kristof needed air, space. That sadness was tugging at him when it shouldn’t. Standing up, he walked to the other end of the deck to stare down at the harbour filled with cruise ships. Tourists flooded Dubrovnik during the day, turning the Old City situated behind these hills into a place most locals avoided until winter, when they got the city back to themselves. At night many of the tourists would be back on board their ship making the most of the entertainment put on free of charge.

He heard a movement beside him and Alesha was standing there, her hands on the concrete wall, leaning forward to peer in the same direction as him. ‘It’s stunning.’ So she’d joined him but wasn’t continuing the conversation that had him fidgeting to get away.

He usually managed to keep the kids he saw in his mother’s clinic at a distance. But today Capeka had got to him. His shield had slipped. He didn’t know why, but did know it wasn’t a good look. And that it couldn’t happen again. Not if he intended to maintain his barriers against being in a loving relationship. ‘Yes, it’s magic.’

‘Very different from London.’

If she was digging for information about his life back there she would need a bulldozer. He commented, ‘We don’t get the wonderful weather, for starters.’

Her mouth flattened. Then turned up into a grin. ‘Fair enough.’ The grin was quickly followed by a yawn. ‘Sorry. It’s been quite a day on top of a long night. I didn’t knock off work until eleven last night and since it was my last time on the ward there was a visit to the pub involved afterwards. Then today Luke’s bombshell really sank in when I stepped out of the plane into Croatia.’

‘I’ll leave you alone, then.’ Kristof’s jaw dropped. He didn’t want to go. He really didn’t, instead wanted to hold her close, kiss away that hurt that had started going on in her eyes when she’d mentioned a big day. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

Wipe your mouth out. You don’t do personal questions. With anyone.

It brought people close when he learned what made them tick, meant he could no longer put them in a box.

Alesha blinked, hard. Her mouth flattened. He didn’t like that. Nor that slumping that sloped her shoulders.

‘Sorry, don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.’ But if he could make her feel a bit happier, he would.

‘We planned this trip at Easter. Then a couple of weeks ago I learned I was the only one flying to Dubrovnik. Luke has found someone else and they’ve gone to Paris for the weekend.’

That was appalling. Who did that? ‘Can I swear?’

‘Go ahead but it won’t change anything.’ She’d crossed her arms and those long manicured fingernails were digging into her biceps.

He’d prefer they were on his biceps. Kristof stepped closer so his arm touched hers. That was as close as he was getting, tantalising fingers or not. But hell, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that sadness away. Even when the man she’d want kissing her wasn’t him.

Alesha leaned into him, as though now she’d voiced what had happened the strength to stay upright had deserted her.

He couldn’t resist. His arm wound around her shoulders, to give her support. Nothing more. Or was it? A heady mix of gentleness, need and friendship closed around him. A totally foreign sensation. He lost track of how long they stood there, both staring out across the harbour with a myriad lights winking from the ships and the wharves, he holding her, she trembling.

Then she knocked him sideways with a whisper. ‘You don’t have to go. I could do with some company.’ When she turned to face him she was close so her breasts brushed against his chest. When her mouth touched his, those lips were soft and warm, exciting, just as he’d imagined. Talk about getting what he wished for.

Kristof lifted his chin and stepped back, his hands on her shoulders until she found her balance. ‘Thank you for asking but you’re feeling let down, unhappy, disappointed. Tomorrow you’ll regret having made that suggestion.’ He was already regretting not following through. As far as kisses went that one had barely got started, but every cell in his body was screaming out for more and for the follow-up rampant sex.

‘That’s a no, then.’

‘Yes, Alesha, it is.’ Give him strength, because the more he said no, the more he knew it was a lie, that he wanted to accept her invitation, to lose himself in her, give her a reason to let go the hurt plaguing her eyes for a few hours at least.

‘I could beg.’ Fixed on him, her eyes were enormous.

‘It wouldn’t become you.’ His lips grazed her forehead. He breathed in apples from her hair.

Go, while you still can.

Dropping his hands, he stepped further away. ‘Take care, Alesha. Whatever you do, enjoy your time in Croatia.’ And on that dry note he left, feeling her eyes boring into his back until he reached the bottom step and let himself out onto the street. He didn’t know if she watched from above as he walked up the road, wasn’t looking back over his shoulder to find out. Alesha had come into his life with a problem. Now the crisis was fixed and with every step he took he was leaving her further behind, safe, out of his life, out of the way of temptation. He couldn’t fix her bigger problem.

‘Kristof, wait. Stop. Look up the road.’ Alesha was running after him. ‘I think there’s a fire further up.’ She had his arm now, was pulling at him and pointing towards the area where his mother’s house was.

A red glow backlit a building. Not his mother’s, but close. Someone’s house was definitely burning. ‘I’m calling the emergency services. You go back inside.’ He didn’t need to be worrying about Alesha while he tried to assess the situation.

‘I’m coming with you. There could be people inside.’

Arguing wasted time. ‘What can you do to help?’ It was an honest question. If she was hanging around there might be something she could do to help.

‘I’m a nurse, remember?’

‘Come on.’ There wasn’t time to argue, and she was right, she might be needed. He began sprinting up the road. Hopefully she wasn’t going to be required at the scene of the fire.

Puff, puff, from beside him. Not a fit nurse, then.

The emergency dispatch for the city answered his call, preventing him saying something he’d regret. Rattling off what he knew about the location, nothing specific but once the emergency crews got close they’d work it out, he punched the red icon and shoved the phone deep into his pocket, hoping it stayed there while he got on with helping out at the fire. Losing all his work contacts was not on.

You don’t want to lose Alesha’s number either.

Best if he did, then he couldn’t be tempted into calling her, asking her to join him for a beer or a trip into town for a meal during the coming week.

Kristof really was trying to fool himself. Who needed a number when he walked by the apartment complex every day? Which reminded him. ‘Did you remember your keys?’

She gaped at him, her eyes wide and filled with disgust. ‘Guess it really isn’t my day.’

They weren’t going to call Karolina out a second time. ‘There’s a spare bed at my mother’s.’

Laughter filled the now smoky air. ‘I meant there went my opportunity to crash at your place. I have keys and phone buttoned into my back pocket.’

He looked. How could he not? Yes, there, on that smooth, curved outline of her backside, was the obvious shape of a phone and a bundle of keys. ‘Well done.’

Damn.

CHAPTER THREE

ALESHA DREW DEEP breaths in an attempt to stop puffing so hard. Time to find a gym if this was what a short run up a gently sloping hill did. Beside her Kristof was barely breathing any faster than normal.

‘Bystanders are saying there’s a family of four inside,’ he told her. ‘I’m going to see how close I can get.’

‘Be careful.’ Look out for yourself, don’t get injured. Clench, clench went her stomach for her new—What? Friend?

She couldn’t hear any sirens. ‘How far away is the fire station?’ She picked her way through the crowd behind him.

‘Ten minutes. Stay back here.’

‘And if you find someone in need of medical attention?’

‘We’ll bring them out here and you can help me.’

‘We?’ That was when she realised two other men were pushing ahead on the same track Kristof was following. ‘Fine.’ She was wasting precious time, holding him back from possibly saving someone. ‘Go.’ Her heart sank. If there really was a family in that inferno their chances of survival were slim, and getting smaller by the second. When she was training back in Christchurch she’d worked in a burns unit and had hated it. The stench, the raw agony, the horror in her patients’ eyes as they stared at their scars, had drained her emotionally in a way no other field of nursing had.

Around her people were talking as they gaped at the scene. Unfortunately she couldn’t understand a word. Someone pointed towards the house and there was a shout as a burning piece from the roof plunged to the ground. Kristof towered above everyone, making it easy to keep an eye on his progress.

Be safe, please.

He was in charge. No doubt about that. He seemed the kind of guy who’d take note of the situation and still charge in to save whoever he could with little regard for his own safety. Not that she could explain why she felt that, she just did. He’d impressed her with the way he’d looked after her earlier. No one had ever gone out of their way for her before, and it made her feel special, as if she counted for something. Then she’d repaid him by coming on to him. It was a wonder he’d spoken to her at all after that.

‘Does anyone know if the family was definitely at home when the fire broke out?’ she asked without thinking, and got a surprise.

‘The mother and son came home thirty minutes ago,’ the woman beside her answered. ‘The husband and other son are still out.’

‘Two safe. That’s a start.’ Where had Kristof gone? There was no way he could get inside. Not and survive. It was a furnace in there.

‘I hear sirens,’ said the woman.

There was movement ahead, and the crowd parted. Kristof strode towards her, a body in his arms. ‘Alesha? I’ve got the lad. He’s unconscious.’ Kneeling down, he laid his precious bundle on the ground.

Running forward, she dropped to her knees, ignored the gravel digging into the earlier bruises. ‘That’s a nasty cut on his head.’ Blood oozed through the lad’s hair. Her fingers gently probed, touched swollen flesh. ‘Something must’ve fallen on him. Where did you find him? You’d better not have gone inside.’ What did that matter now? If he had he was out safe.

‘On the back porch lying half out the door.’ Kristof began checking the boy over, gently rolling him onto his right side. ‘Burns to his back and left arm.’

‘Don’t pull that shirt off,’ she warned. They didn’t need to cause any further damage.

‘Agreed.’ Kristof was feeling the bones in an oddly shaped elbow, a competent doctor at work. ‘Fractures for sure. He’s got cuts as well as massive trauma bruising. Someone mentioned an explosion.’

‘Do people here use gas for cooking?’ That could explain the injuries and the fire.

‘Yes.’ He gave her a nod of acknowledgment. ‘You know your stuff.’

‘Worked in a burns unit. He has respiratory problems, probably due to smoke inhalation.’

‘I’ll check his heart.’

Cardiac arrest often followed respiratory failure. ‘Will an ambulance come with that fire engine?’ A defibrillator wouldn’t go astray right now, just in case of the worst-case scenario.

‘Of course. From what I’m hearing two fire trucks and one ambulance have just pulled up. The good news is the hospital is only a mile further up the road.’

‘Knowing the lingo is a plus.’ Never had she felt so useless. Not understanding what was going on was disturbing. But she did understand this boy’s dilemma and that was all that really mattered. He needed her help, not her doubts and frustration.

‘Great nursing skills don’t need interpreting.’ Kristof underscored her thoughts as his hand touched the back of hers briefly. Except she hadn’t thought great was true, just thorough.

Someone in uniform knelt beside her, asking rapid questions in Croatian. No doubt a paramedic. She locked eyes on Kristof. ‘You take this.’

He was already talking to the other man. She continued taking the boy’s pulse for a second time. ‘Slower.’

Another person in ambulance uniform joined them and Alesha was nudged aside. Her back cricked as she stood up and looked around. ‘What about the mother?’

Screams rent the air. Someone was pushing through the crowd. A woman. In her late thirties? The boy’s mother? Alesha crossed her fingers. That would mean she was safe and not inside. The woman dropped to the ground beside the boy, crying and shouting, reaching to touch her son, being gently held back by Kristof and another lady.

Alesha stepped away. The woman’s grief was personal, and heart-wrenching. On the other side of the road she stopped amidst the crowd to take stock. Around her voices were low and all eyes seemed to be on the mother and boy. Time to head back to the apartment. There was nothing else she could do to help here.

‘He’s going to be in hospital for a while but I think he’ll be all right.’ Kristof materialised out of the gloom. ‘None of those injuries look life-threatening.’

‘If you don’t count the scars he’ll have.’

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