Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | A Father for Her Baby

A Father for Her Baby
Sue MacKay


The perfect guy for her and her baby girl…?Kind-hearted nurse Sasha Wilson can’t wait to be a mother! And, with her unborn little girl almost here, the last thing she needs is to meet handsome doctor Grady O’Neil…again! The former love of her life walked out on her eleven years ago, taking her heart with him.As she works alongside Grady in Golden Bay’s medical centre it’s clear their chemistry has never died. Something about Grady has changed, but can Sasha risk her heart again? And can he really be the father that her baby girl deserves…?







DOCTORS TO DADDIES

The biggest role of their lives…

No demands. No commitment. That’s how hot-shot doctors Grady O’Neil and Jackson Wilson like to conduct their relationships. Women feature in their lives like the revolving door of the A&E.

But, returning home to the small island of Golden Bay, Grady and Jackson meet two women and their delightful bundles of joy… and everything changes. These two dedicated bachelors suddenly find themselves yearning for the one thing they’ve never wanted:

fatherhood!

Meet the women and their babies who melt their stubborn hearts in

the Doctors to Daddies duet by Sue MacKay

Available June 2014

Read Grady’s story in

A FATHER FOR HER BABY

Read Jackson’s story in

THE MIDWIFE’S SON


Dear Reader

Golden Bay is one of New Zealand’s gems. There’s only one road in, but it’s well worth the effort to go there. I’ve spent a few summer holidays staying at one of the beaches there, enjoying the fishing, swimming and just relaxing. I also have family living there, and attended a wonderful wedding on their lawn which gave me ideas leading to these stories.

Sasha and Grady, Jessica and Jackson—all have family connections and history from when they were teenagers. But people have to leave the bay area if they want to attend university, and not everyone comes back. Of course I had to bring these four back. I hope you enjoy their ensuing relationships and how they find love again.

Cheers!

Sue MacKay

PS I’d love to hear from you at sue.mackay56@yahoo.com (http://sue.mackay56@yahoo.com) or visit me on www.suemackay.co.nz (http://www.suemackay.co.nz)


With a background of working in medical laboratories and a love of the romance genre, it is no surprise that SUE MACKAY writes Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™ stories. An avid reader all her life, she wrote her first story at age eight—about a prince, of course. She lives with her own hero in the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, at the top of New Zealand’s South Island, where she indulges her passions for the outdoors, the sea and cycling.

Recent titles by Sue MacKay:

FROM DUTY TO DADDY

THE GIFT OF A CHILD

YOU, ME AND A FAMILY

CHRISTMAS WITH DR DELICIOUS

EVERY BOY’S DREAM DAD

THE DANGERS OF DATING YOUR BOSS

SURGEON IN A WEDDING DRESS

RETURN OF THE MAVERICK

PLAYBOY DOCTOR TO DOTING DAD

THEIR MARRIAGE MIRACLE

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


A Father

for Her Baby

Sue MacKay






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#u5804a831-8e43-5df6-8cc6-26f251537433)

CHAPTER TWO (#u99f4ef14-112c-555a-bc50-0c7f041d7472)

CHAPTER THREE (#u87c0ea34-7369-565d-ab54-1ecf7534f87c)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

AS SASHA WILSON reached the first sharp hairpin bend on her descent from the top of Takaka Hill into Golden Bay she eased off the accelerator, moving even slower than her previous snail’s pace.

A shudder rolled through her chilled body, nothing to do with her friend’s entreaties for her to move back to the city where her biggest mistake ever lived but all about the treacherous road conditions. While there was frost on her heart, it was the black ice at every corner and coating most of the road that required her undivided attention right now. As it had done for the more than five hours she’d been driving home from Christchurch. Where her headlights swept the grass and tree-covered banks, blinding-white frozen water glittered back at her.

‘Winter sucks,’ she growled, and swiped the back of her glove-covered hand across the condensation on the windscreen. ‘If only it wasn’t so important to be back for work in the morning, I could’ve waited until the weather cleared.’ Then her voice softened and her hand briefly touched the bump over her stomach. ‘At least you’re tucked up nice and warm in there, Flipper. And safe from that selfish man who accidentally fathered you. The man who wanted me to terminate you.’

Gasp. ‘Wash my mouth out.’ Flipper wouldn’t pick up on her thoughts, would she? Because no matter her own opinion of the man who would remain nameless, she wasn’t ever going to visit that on her daughter.

Gripping the steering-wheel, she continued her diatribe. ‘It’s like someone threw a switch on my life. Winter’s always been about chasing the best snow and hurtling down ski slopes, and going to those amazing après-ski parties to rub shoulders with some of the best skiers in the world.’

Not any more. Her skis were in a cupboard at the back of her parents’ shed. Her fancy outfits were folded away in cases filling the wardrobes in the tiny cottage she now lived in on the edge of the family orchard.

‘We don’t even like the cold, do we, Flipper?’

The baby kicked none too gently.

‘You’re quite the swimmer, aren’t you?’ Sasha smiled as she sucked in a breath. ‘The inside of my tummy must be bruised purple from your feet.’ Pregnancy was amazing. Every day seemed different. She already loved her little girl. Completely and utterly. Fiercely. She’d protect her with her life.

On the radio a song finished and the announcer piped up in his false cheery voice, ‘Coming up to eleven-thirty on the clock, folks. I hope each and every one of you is tucked up warm and safe by now.’

‘I wish. Big time.’ Sasha flicked a glove-covered finger in the direction of her radio. ‘You obviously haven’t listened to your station’s weather forecast, buster. It’s been blowing a blizzard up and down New Zealand for most of the day and some of us are struggling to get home in the resulting chaos.’

Successfully negotiating a tight bend, she let relief spread through her. ‘One down.’ The relief evaporated instantly. ‘Plenty more to go.’ If only she was pulling up outside her house now. She was so over this trip.

A new, cheerful song filled the interior of the car as Sasha leaned forward to peer through the windscreen. ‘It’s hideous out there, Flipper.’ Not even the possums were out partaking in their nightly forage for dinner. She shivered and hunched her neck down into the warmth of her leather jacket.

Her mouth stretched wide as she yawned. She was tired beyond tired. The long drive down to Christchurch on Thursday, the pre-wedding celebrations, in which, as bridesmaid, she had an active role, and then the wedding yesterday—she’d been on the go non-stop for three days. And then today’s endless drive from hell. If only keeping her job wasn’t so important that she had to get home. But it funded her decision to return to the one place on earth where she felt safe, where there were people she could trust, where her family lived. Where Mum needed her.

Golden Bay with its small township of Takaka had become her bolt-hole, the place where she could lick her wounds and harden her heart, the district she wanted to settle down in and raise her daughter. Earlier she’d briefly considered calling one of the doctors she worked for and explaining that she’d be a day late getting back, but they’d been adamant she had to prove her reliability if she wanted to get a permanent position at the medical centre. No days off for anything except illness, she had been told on more than one occasion. Her reputation from her long past high-school days just wouldn’t go away. Small communities had a lot to answer for. But that was why she was here, that sense of a blanket being wrapped around her and keeping her safe and warm had also drawn her in.

Another yawn lifted her shoulders, filled her lungs. Rubbing her eyes, she spoke loudly in an attempt to banish the loneliness suddenly enveloping her. ‘Hey, Flipper, ready to tuck up under our quilt? I know I am.’ She really was nuts, talking to the baby like this. But it made a change from yakking to herself all the time. And it was good to talk to her baby even before she was born, right? Who cared? She’d do it anyway. There’d be people who said it was the right thing to do, and others who’d say she was bonkers.

‘Unfortunately the cottage will be cold enough to freeze the boll—’ Oops, mind your language in front of the baby. ‘It’d be great if your grandma has gone down to light the fire for us. But somehow I doubt it. She doesn’t trust the safest of fireboxes.’ Mum had always been overly cautious. Mum. Sasha’s mouth drooped into the antithesis of a smile while her eyes misted.

‘What has Mum ever done to deserve the disease slowly wrecking her life, taking over her body?’ she asked around the lump clogging her throat. Her beautiful mother, who’d always been there for her and her brother, refusing to accept the disease taking hold in her body would never let go.

Sniff, sniff. Life could be so damned unfair. Sasha’s hands tightened on the steering-wheel as she leaned forward, all the better to see, but it didn’t make the slightest difference. This final stretch of road seemed interminable.

‘What the heck?’ Red lights blinked from the edge of the road ahead, right on the bend of the next hairpin. Random. Definitely out of place. Suddenly her heart beat a rapid rhythm.

‘I don’t like the look of this.’ Her bed beckoned even harder. Swallowing a yawn and resisting the urge to slam on the brakes, she gently slowed to a stop right beside the rear end of an upside-down truck poking up from the bank it’d gone over. ‘Bad parking.’ But hardly surprising, given the hazardous road conditions. And why she hadn’t relaxed at all despite getting close to home.

Sasha carefully turned her vehicle so the headlights shone onto the wrecked truck, with its black tyres pointing up into the night. Downright eerie. A shiver ran down her vertebrae. For a brief moment she wanted to drive on home to that cold bed and not face what might be waiting in that buckled cab. Not because of her need to be home safe but because all the years working in emergency departments hadn’t dulled the fear she might fail someone who desperately needed her help. Neither did her nursing experience make seeing people suffering any easier to deal with. She felt for them, had cried tears for them.

‘Get on with it,’ she said. ‘You can do the emotional stuff later when everyone in that vehicle’s safe.’ Because the truck hadn’t driven itself off the road, and the glowing headlights suggested it hadn’t happened long ago.

None of that stopped her muttering, ‘Please, please, be empty.’ Her churning stomach mocked her. ‘Okay, then be safe, not seriously injured.’

Tugging her woollen hat down around her ears and pulling at the zipper on her jacket to try and close the gap caused by her baby bulge, she hauled in a lungful of warm air before elbowing the door open and gingerly stepping down onto the frozen road. Instantly her feet skidded sideways and she grabbed for the door, hung on as she righted herself. This wouldn’t be a picnic, and these days, with Flipper on board, she had to be extra, extra careful.

Her cheeks instantly tightened from the cold, while her unease increased. Initially the night seemed silent but now the cracking sounds of hardening ice became apparent. Or was that the truck shifting?

‘Nice one, Sasha. Scare yourself, why don’t you? Move your butt and stop overthinking the situation.’

Collecting her medical kit and the heavy-duty torch she always carried, she gingerly crunched over to the edge of the bank, and gasped. In the half-light the Golden Bay Freight Lines logo on the side of the truck was distorted but readable. Sam and Lucy Donovan’s truck. ‘Sam, is that you? It’s Sasha.’

‘Help me.’

‘Sam, are you on your own?’ Please, she muttered. Talk about needing a lot of favours in one night.

‘No, the missus is with me. She’s hurt bad, Sasha.’

Damn, damn, triple damn. The Donovans were the greatest neighbours her parents had ever had, always there for them, there for her too nowadays whenever she needed help with Mum’s orchard. Which she didn’t. Not because she was stubborn or anything. Of course not.

Sam hadn’t finished with the bad news. ‘I can’t move my legs.’

‘I hear you.’ First she needed to get more help. Fast. Her heart sank. What were the chances there’d be cellphone coverage? But she couldn’t do this on her own. ‘Has anyone driven past since you went off the road?’

‘Not that I heard.’ Sam’s voice cracked. ‘Hurry, Sasha. Lucy’s bleeding from the head.’

Things were looking up. Not. Her heart squeezed for the middle-aged couple stuck in that cab. ‘Sam, you’ll have to hang in there while I get the rescue crews on the way out.’ She swallowed her growing worry. Like worrying helped anybody. Thinking logically was the only way to go.

Tugging her phone free of a pocket, she touched icons. No coverage. Sasha glared upward at the stars blinking out of the now-clear sky. ‘Thanks very much. Can’t someone up there make it a little bit easier to save my friends?’

Crunch, crack. She jerked. Had the truck moved? ‘Sam?’

‘Sounds like another car coming.’

Yellow light slashed across the white landscape, swept over her. Relief poured through her tense muscles. She glanced upwards again. ‘Okay, I take it back. Looks like there was already a plan in action.’

A car pulled up beside her. The driver’s window opened a crack. ‘What’s going on? You need a hand, lady?’ a voice she didn’t know asked.

I’m not standing out here for the hell of it. The air in front of her face turned misty as she sighed. Give the guy a break. At least he stopped. ‘A truck’s gone over the bank with two people inside. We need emergency services urgently.’ The risk of hypothermia was enough to want to rush everything, to drag Sam and Lucy out regardless of injuries. Which was so not how to go about rescuing them. ‘I’m not getting reception. Can you call it in from further down the hill? Or stop at the first house you see? Tell them Sasha Wilson is here.’

‘On my way.’ The car was already moving away, thankfully cautiously.

But as she watched the lights fade in the distance that loneliness grabbed at her again. Until help arrived, Sam and Lucy’s fate depended on her.

‘Your problem is? You’re a nurse. Not a bad one either. Get on with doing something practical. Sam will be getting desperate.’

With all the ice about the place she wasn’t in for an easy time getting down to the truck, something that never normally fazed her. But with Flipper to consider there’d be no leaping over the embankment like a surefooted goat. ‘Hey, I can do careful,’ she whispered. ‘This is one time where I have to go slow and steady.’ Now, there was a first. Her lips pressed hard together, the skin of her cheeks tight.

Maybe if she’d gone slow and steady with that greaseball back in Christchurch she’d still be up to leaping over edges without a care in the world. Might not have a baby under her belt. ‘Sorry, Flipper. I’m not trying to wish you away, sweetheart.’

Wrong time to be thinking about this, with the Donovans waiting for her. Taking a steadying breath, she let her medical pack slide down the bank. Then, with her torch gripped tight in one hand, she sat down on her bottom and shuffled and slipped down, too.

‘Hey, there.’ She mustered a cheery tone as she reached the driver’s door.

Sam blinked in the light from her torch. ‘Am I glad to see you.’

‘How secure do you think the truck is?’

‘I haven’t felt it move at all. From the sound when we hit I think we’re jammed against rocks.’

Some good news. At least they weren’t about to plummet down to where the road twisted across the hillside directly beneath.

‘Sasha, I’m real worried about Lucy.’

The fear in Sam’s voice had her squatting down by the shattered window to shine the torch inside. Blood had splattered over most of the interior. Lucy hung upside down, half in, half out of her seat belt, a huge gash across the side of her head.

‘She hasn’t said a word the whole time.’ Sam’s voice trembled. ‘What if—?’ he choked.

‘Hold that thought, Sam.’ Darn, but she hated it when friends were hurting. Placing her free hand on Sam’s shoulder, she tried for a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’ll check Lucy over. But what about you? Where are you hurting?’ At least he was upright, though what injuries he’d sustained when the truck had rolled didn’t bear thinking about.

‘To hell with me. Look after Lucy, will you?’

‘Okay. But keep talking to me.’ The way his voice faded in and out didn’t bode well. ‘Tell me where you hurt. Did you bang your head?’ He had to have, surely? ‘Are you bleeding anywhere? Stuff like that.’ Talking might keep him focused and make the minutes tick by a little faster than if he just sat watching and worrying over his wife. Really? That was the theory but theory often sucked. ‘Shine my torch so I can see what I’m doing.’

Hand over hand she grabbed at the edge of the truck’s grille and made her way to the other side. Not easy clambering over frozen rocks with a bump the size of a basketball under her jacket. Flipper must’ve got the seriousness of the situation because she’d gone nice and quiet with those feet. Automatically rubbing her tummy, Sasha muttered, ‘Thanks, sweetheart. Mummy owes you.’

Reaching through where the window used to be, she felt carefully for Lucy’s throat and the carotid. ‘There you go. Lucy’s got a pulse. She’s alive, Sam.’

One big sniff. ‘Thank you, lass. Can you get her down from that seat belt? I don’t like her hanging like that. Can’t be doing her any good.’

‘We’re going to have to wait for the rescue guys. I could do more damage than good if I cut her free.’ Tilting her wrist to see her watch, Sasha counted Lucy’s pulse. Slightly low but not too bad, considering. ‘You haven’t told me about your injuries yet, Sam.’

Carefully feeling Lucy’s head, neck, and arms for injuries, she tried to work out how long would it take for the rescue crowd to get here. How long since that car had driven away? Had the driver got that this was an emergency? Swallow hard. Toughen up. It would be at least forty-five minutes before anyone showed up. Make that an hour by the time everyone’d been phoned. Then there were the road conditions to contend with.

Focusing on diverting Sam’s attention—and hers—she said, ‘You and Lucy were coming home late.’

‘Been to tea with the kids in Nelson.’ He went quiet.

A glance showed his eyes droop shut. ‘Sam.’

He blinked. ‘Roads are real bad.’

‘Very dicey.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d driven this road in the aftermath of a winter storm, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Unless she changed her mind about staying in Golden Bay like Tina wanted. Now her friend was a happily married woman she seemed to think she had the right to fix Sasha’s life. Worse, the guy Tina had thought would solve all her present problems had been nice—in a wet blanket kind of way. Tina was probably making up for the fact she’d introduced the greaseball to her in the first place.

‘Sorry, Tina, but which bit of no more men for me didn’t you get?’

‘Who’s Tina? Is someone else here?’

‘Talking to myself. A bad habit I really should get over.’

Taking a thick cotton pad from her kit, Sasha taped it over Lucy’s head wound. Hopefully that would slow the blood loss. She kept prattling on about anything and everything in an attempt to keep Sam with her. Having him slip into unconsciousness would make it harder for the rescue crew to remove him.

Glancing at her watch, she stifled a groan of despair. Twelve-twenty. The rescue crews couldn’t be too far away now. Could they? What if the road was worse between here and Takaka? Don’t even go there. She knew those men, had gone to school with some of them, now worked with others. They would come through. It might take some effort and time but they’d be here as soon as it was humanly possible.

‘S-Sasha, h-how’s Lucy?’ Sam’s teeth clacked together as shivers rattled him.

Sasha winced. A couple of thermal blankets would be very welcome right about now for her patients. Her own toes were numb, her fingers much the same since she’d removed her gloves to attend to Lucy, and she wasn’t stuck, unable to move. At least Flipper would be warm. She answered, ‘Breathing normally and the bleeding’s stopped.’

After what felt like a lifetime flashing lights cut through the dark night. Relief slipped under her skin. ‘The ambulance’s here. Now we’ll see some action.’

The first voice she heard was Mike’s, one of the GPs she worked for at the Golden Bay Medical and Wellbeing Centre. ‘You down there, Sasha?’

She stood upright, grabbing the doorframe for balance. ‘Yep, and I’ve got Lucy and Sam with me.’

Before she’d finished telling him, Mike had joined her. Rebecca, one of the ambulance volunteers, was right behind him.

Mike asked, ‘What’ve we got?’

‘Sam’s legs are caught under the steering-wheel. Lucy’s entangled upside down in her seat belt.’ Sasha quickly filled them in on the scant medical details. Above them a tow truck pulled up, quickly followed by another heavy four-wheel-drive vehicle. Then the fire truck laden with men equipped with cutting gear and rescue equipment arrived. ‘I love it when the cavalry turns up.’

Mike grinned. ‘Guess it does feel like that. You want to wait in the warmth of the ambulance? Thaw out a bit before we send one of these two up to you?’

For once she didn’t mind being set aside so others could get on with the job. She wasn’t in a position to take the weight of either Lucy or Sam as they were freed and lifted onto stretchers. The strain might affect her baby in some way and that was not going to happen. ‘On my way.’ Though it wouldn’t be as easy going up the bank as it had been coming down.

Mike read her mind. ‘There’s a rope to haul yourself back up to the top, as you’re more of a small whale than a goat these days.’

She swiped at his arm before taking the end of rope he held out to her. ‘Thanks, Doc.’

‘Is that Sam’s truck? Is he hurt badly? Anyone with him?’ The questions were fired at her before she’d even got her feet back on the road.

Doing her slip-slide ballet manoeuvre and with a lot of men reaching for her, she managed to stand upright and steady. ‘Lucy’s unconscious and Sam’s fading in and out.’ Sasha glanced around at the mostly familiar faces, relief that they were here warming her chilled blood.

Then she froze. Like the air in her lungs had turned to ice crystals. The heat left her veins. Her eyes felt as though they were popping out of their sockets. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Her head spun, making her dizzy. Her mouth tasted odd as her tongue did a lap. Can’t be him. Her numb fingers hurt as she gripped someone’s arm to stay upright. Not now. Not here.

But, of course, she wasn’t imaging anything. That would’ve meant something going in her favour for a change. Grady O’Neil was for real. Eleven years older and more world-weary but definitely Grady. No mistaking that angular jaw, those full lips that were nearly always smiling—except not right at this moment—and... Her shoulders rose, dropped back in place. He hadn’t been smiling the last time she’d seen him either. When he’d told her he didn’t love her any more he’d had the decency to keep at bay that wicked smile that made her knees melt. The first man to hurt her. But he didn’t have that on his own any more. There’d been others. She so didn’t do well with picking men.

The urge to run overwhelmed her. Her left foot came off the ground as she began turning in the direction of her vehicle. Sliding on the ice and falling down hard on your butt would be such a good look. And could harm Flipper. Deal with this. Now. Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out. ‘Grady.’ She dipped her head. ‘It’s been a while.’

A while? How’s that for a joke? Why wasn’t he laughing? A while. Far too long. Huh? No. She meant not nearly long enough. Didn’t she? Oh, yeah, definitely not long enough. Yet here he stood, a few feet from her, as big and strong and virile as ever. And that was with layers of thick warm clothes covering that body she apparently still remembered too well.

You shouldn’t be remembering a thing about that amazing year. You’re long over him and the hurt he caused. True? Absolutely.

She fought the need to revisit Grady and everything he’d meant to her, instead aimed for calm and friendly, as though his unexpected appearance didn’t matter at all. ‘What are you doing here?’ Big fail. Her voice rose as though a hand gripped her throat. Memories from those wonderful carefree days she’d stashed away in a mental box some place in the back of her head were sneaking out and waving like flags in a breeze, threatening to swamp her.

Swallowing hard, she focused on now, not the past. Why had Grady turned up? Golden Bay was her territory. Not his. He’d only come for summer holidays and that had been years ago. He’d be visiting. But who? Not her, for sure. Her tummy sucked in on itself, setting Flipper off on a lap of her swimming pool, nudging Sasha every few seconds, underlining how unimportant Grady was in the scheme of things.

Sasha dug deeper than she’d ever done before for every bit of willpower she could muster to hold off rubbing her extended belly. She would not draw those all-seeing blue eyes to her pregnant state. That was hers alone to cope with. She certainly didn’t need Grady asking about her baby.

His smile seemed genuine, though wary. Which it damn well ought to be. ‘Hi, Sash. This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you while I was here.’

Sash. That certainly set free a load of hot memories. Her nipples tightened, her thighs clenched. Grady still drawled her name out like he was tasting it, enjoying it.

He couldn’t be. He’d lost any right to those sensations the day he’d told her he didn’t love her enough to spend the rest of his life with her. Yet he was checking her out. Her pulse sped up as that steady gaze trawled over her, starting with her face and tracking slowly down her chin, her throat, over the swell of her breasts under the thickness of her jacket, on down to Flipper. As his gaze dropped further the breath she’d been hanging onto trickled over her lips. He hadn’t noticed the six-month bulge. Guess the thick jersey and heavy jacket she wore made her look larger than normal anyway.

Now his gaze had reached her legs—forever legs, he used to call them. Another memory leaped out of the box. Grady’s strong hands gently rubbing sunscreen from her toes to the tops of her thighs. Slam. The lid shut firmly.

Then Grady stepped right up to her and enveloped her in those strong arms she would not remember. Her head bumped against the chest she’d never found the likeness of again. And out of nowhere came the need to lay her cheek against him and tuck her hands around his waist. Even to tug that shirt free and slide her hands over his skin.

No, Sasha, you can’t. Are you that stupid you’ve forgotten his parting words? That memory never went into the box. That one you kept out in the open as a warning never to make the same mistake.

Except she had got it wrong again. Had learned nothing in the years since Grady. She jerked backwards. Too quickly for him to let go of her, so that her baby bump shoved forward, right into his solar plexus.

His head snapped up, those startled eyes registering shock. He pulled away from her fast, as though he’d walked into an electric fence. In the shadows and flashing lights from the emergency vehicles she saw a multitude of questions spinning her way. He pushed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, forced his chest out and splayed his legs slightly. Such a Grady stance. The don’t-mess-with-me posture even while his face showed how much he wanted to ask her about that bump.

Tough. Her baby had nothing to do with him. He’d want to know who the father was, no doubt wondering if it was someone he knew from way back when they had been part of a whole crowd of teens at the beach. He could guess all night long, he’d never get it right.

He looked away, looked back at her. Tugged one hand free and rammed his fingers through his thick hair. Stumped.

She blinked as her throat clamped shut on the delayed shock charging up her body, opening that box of memories again, wider than ever. I remember you very well, Grady O’Neil. Too well. I remember—too many things I’d prefer not to. The air trickled out of her lungs. Those memories were capable of melting all the black ice on the Takaka Hill road.

Why had she never considered this moment might happen? Because Takaka had been their playground only when they’d been teenagers knocking around together. Knocking around? That was one way of describing what had gone on between them. They’d been inseparable. Totally in love with the intensity of teenagers overdosed on hormones. She’d stupidly thought they’d be together for ever.

So wrong about Grady. So wrong about the greaseball she’d walked away from four months ago. She really needed a ‘how to’ book on establishing perfectly balanced relationships with the opposite sex.

She closed her eyes. Opened them. Nothing had changed. Grady still stood in front of her, questions blinking out, begging for answers. No way, sunshine. Not telling you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she croaked, ‘I didn’t realise you knew Mike.’

‘I met him two days ago when I dropped by the medical centre. He and Roz invited me to have dinner with them tonight, which is where I was when this call came in.’

Jonty called from the open back doors of the ambulance, ‘How do we get these stretchers out of here?’

Saved by the fireman. Sasha hurried to clamber inside the wide vehicle and unlock the stretchers from the wheels they wouldn’t be using tonight.

‘Ta.’ Jonty grinned. Then pulled a grim face. ‘We’re bringing Lucy up first so you and Grady can do what you have to with her in the warmth of the ambulance.’

I have to work with Grady? Her skin broke out in goose-bumps, even as she gathered her strength around her like a mantle. ‘Sure.’ She pressed her lips together and started getting out equipment they’d need. She’d work with the devil if it meant helping Sam and Lucy.

The devil might be easier to get on with.

Blinking back a sudden rush of tears, she tried to concentrate on the job. Damn her tear ducts. They’d taken on a life of their own since she’d become pregnant.

The ambulance rocked as Grady clambered up the step. Did he have to suck up all the air? Surreptitiously she studied him, saw the pinching at the corners of his delectable mouth. Absurdly she wanted to reach out and touch him, run her finger over those lips and say, Hello, how’ve you been? Great idea, Sasha. Not.

‘Sash, can you move back a bit so I can get inside?’ His vivid cerulean eyes locked onto her and the bottom fell out of her stomach. That memory box lifted its lid again as she looked deeper into those eyes that used to twinkle at her while sending her hormones into a dance, eyes that had undressed her, grown slumberous with desire. Eyes that had turned the colour of thunderclouds as he’d told her they were over. Eyes that now held nothing but a simple request.

So he was playing the friends card. She’d do that too. Cool, casual. Aloof even, but friendly.

Flipper chose that moment to kick hard, making her gasp. Sinking down onto the stretcher frame, she rubbed her side. Felt another nudge from her girl. This baby had an attitude problem. Reminding her mum exactly what her new life was all about—her daughter.


CHAPTER TWO

‘SASHA WILSON, I’VE never forgotten you.’

He sucked cold air through clenched teeth. Unfortunately his mind remained fixed on Sasha.

‘Not for lack of trying, believe me. You’ve hung around in my skull, annoying the hell out of me, reminding me continually of what I destroyed. My one chance of extreme happiness blown out of the water because I couldn’t figure a way to make the future work well for both of us at the same time as looking after Mum and my sisters.’

What had he done to deserve this turn of events? Opening up old wounds had never been on his agenda. Especially Sasha’s hurts. Coming to Takaka had been such a foolish idea, but he’d thought spending four weeks here would be safe. That he’d visit, get his house sorted and on the market then leave, without Sasha factoring into his plans—because she wouldn’t be here.

When Mike had mentioned her name earlier he’d struggled to absorb the shock and warmth that had hit him. But it seemed no preparation could lessen the slam-dunk feeling he’d got when he’d actually seen her. His ability to think straight had vamoosed. He’d been sorely tempted to hold her, kiss her, devour her. The struggle to keep himself together while he’d given her that friendly hug had caused knots in his shoulders and neck muscles.

And then her pregnant belly. That had really put him in his place. He didn’t belong here. Certainly not with Sasha. But, then, that was why he’d come, to get shot of his house and move on with his life. Once and for all.

Sash hadn’t lived here for years, or so he’d been told. If anyone had told him she was working at the local medical centre, however temporarily, he’d have said they needed to see a shrink. Golden Bay was far too small for a personality the size of hers. Always had been. They’d never planned on living here any time in their future. The future he’d deliberately destroyed to set her free.

He didn’t want to think about that baby she carried. But how could he not? His heart slammed his ribs. A little bit of him had died right then. Sasha was pregnant. With another man’s baby. Yeah, well, the point being? Pregnancy usually involved a man and he hadn’t been around for a very long time. Bile soured the back of his throat. She’d got on with her life like he’d told her to, proving how final his words had been.

He’d spoken them but had he understood the true depth of what he’d told her? Hurting her had been unavoidable if he was to make her get on with her life, unhindered by his problems with his family that had suddenly tied him to Nelson and stopped him going away to med school. He’d spent hours trying to come up with a way to break off with her without causing her distress and pain, hoping to leave the door open for later. Of course there’d been no answer other than to say it straight out. Go, get on with your life, leave me to mine. It had hurt him as much as her, but she hadn’t seen that.

Now Sasha had a family of her own. Without him. His loss. His big loss.

Was that what had brought her back here? Family? The baby’s maternal grandparents lived here. The slower-paced, outdoors-orientated lifestyle was perfect for a young child. Sasha had lots of friends here who were probably starting families round about now. Who had she settled down with? Someone local that he knew? Or an outsider who’d fallen under Sasha’s spell? Like he had the very first time he’d set eyes on her as she’d rowed her dinghy into the beach and tossed the anchor at his feet. He’d been young and horny and in lust. Which had quickly turned to young and horny and in love.

Where was her man anyway? Grady scowled. He wouldn’t have let her out alone at this hour, driving in these horrendous conditions. Yeah, but this was Sash. The woman who never listened to anyone’s advice. The girl with enough confidence for a whole team of downhill skiers. That had been one of her attractions. That and her smarts, and her enthusiasm for just about everything—except spiders and mashed spuds.

Never in a month of dry Sundays had he expected to feel so disorientated when he saw her. He’d honestly believed he’d be cool, calm and casual. He’d had an hour to prepare. He’d been sitting at the same table as Mike, listening as the guy had rung around the emergency volunteers, getting them on the road to help Sasha with a road accident.

The only word that had registered in his brain had been ‘Sasha’. Immediately excitement had rolled through him. He was going to see her. For eleven years he’d stayed away, wondering how she fared, if she’d forgiven him, and could they be friends again—and now all he could think was what he’d missed out on. His gut roiled. Sasha, his one true love. Out of reach for ever. And no one to blame except himself.

How could I have been so stupid to think I’d get over her if I tried really hard? Talk about impossible.

Pain bounded around his chest. His head spun so fast it hurt. His gut had crunched down hard, feeling like it held a solid ball of concrete. So much he wanted to know, yet he couldn’t ask her a thing.

‘Ask what?’ came the sharp tone of the woman he wanted to pretend wasn’t within touching distance.

Inside the ambulance he ducked to avoid smashing his head on the overhead cupboards. ‘Nothing,’ he muttered, because he truly couldn’t think what to say. Most things that came to mind would be incendiary. Certainly not conducive to good working relations.

A cupboard door slid shut with a bang. ‘What area of medicine did you specialise in?’

So she knew he’d finally trained as a doctor. She must’ve thought of him occasionally, then. Was that good? Or bad? He told her, ‘I chose general practice. I like the community aspect best.’

‘I get that.’ Sasha surprised him with a smile. A very brief flicker but he’d take it. It melted some of the forced wariness that had settled on his heart the moment he’d seen her head popping up from behind that bank where the truck had crashed. The chill had been about him, not her. A hopeless attempt to shut down any leftover feelings he had for this beautiful, feisty woman.

She’d been a girl-slash-woman when he’d fallen in love with her. Seventeen going on thirty. Unafraid of anything, whether it had been taking her dad’s plane up for a spin, galloping her horse at breakneck speed along the beach, or diving for scallops out in the bay. She had always got her own way by sheer willpower. People had either gone with her or stepped aside to watch with envy her latest escapade. Watching her now, she seemed very much in control.

Voices reached them, and then thankfully men appeared at the entrance to the interior of the ambulance. Jonty was telling them, ‘Go easy with that stretcher, guys. Lucy doesn’t need any more knocks.’

Sasha took the top end and guided the stretcher onto its frame, before deftly clicking all the locks in place. Lucy wasn’t going anywhere she shouldn’t.

Grady moved closer, looking their patient over, fighting to ignore Sasha’s presence as her arm rubbed against his when they both leaned over the stretcher. Heat spilled through him. Heat that woke up parts of his body best left asleep right now. Heat he did not need around Sash. Focus on Lucy. Head wound, right arm at an odd angle, suggesting a fracture, laboured breathing. Sliding a hand under Lucy’s torn blouse, he carefully felt her ribs. No problems there. One point in her favour.

‘The GCS was nine when I first checked Lucy and it hasn’t changed,’ Sasha informed him. ‘She came round twice very briefly earlier and asked about Sam, before losing consciousness again.’

The Glasgow Coma Index. Borderline severe. Not a good sign. Grady’s fingers worked along Lucy’s hairline then over her head. ‘I’m guessing she hit the dashboard when the truck flipped.’

‘The wound above her temple was still bleeding moderately when I reached her.’

He gently lifted the padding at one corner. ‘It’s stopped now.’

‘One thing to be thankful for.’ Sasha’s tone was perfectly reasonable, normal. Totally unaffected by his presence.

Guess she’d long got over him. Which, considering her pregnancy, should be mighty obvious even to his sluggish brain. He must’ve done a good job of telling her to get on with her life without him in it because the results were very clear. Sash was going to become a mother in a few months’ time. She hadn’t done that on her own.

The green-eyed monster lifted its head, roared inside his skull. Who was the lucky bastard? Did he treat her well? Did she love him? Completely and utterly? Passionately? Of course she did. That was the only way Sash did anything. Grady wiped his hands down his jeans, removing a sudden coating of sweat. ‘We need to splint Lucy’s arm.’

He’d spoken more brusquely than he’d intended and received a perfectly arched eyebrow kind of glare for his trouble. ‘Sure.’

It was as easy as that for Sash. Except her fingers had a slight tremble as she handed him the splint. Interesting. And confusing. Talk about mixed messages. Not only were those fingers trembling, they were covered in rings. Was one of them a wedding ring? The silver one on her wedding ring finger had a tiny butterfly etched into the metal. Not a likely wedding ring, even for Sasha.

They worked quickly and efficiently, routine emergency care that neither of them had any difficulty with. Grady asked in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage, ‘Where have you been working? Before Takaka?’ Sasha had been planning on starting her training only weeks after the last time they’d been together. They’d finished high school and had been enjoying their last summer holidays before hitting the adult world.

‘In the emergency department at Christchurch Hospital for a year.’ She gently lowered Lucy’s arm by her side. ‘Now I’m the community nurse around here while the centre’s usual nurse is on maternity leave.’

‘Must be something in the water,’ Grady muttered.

‘Here I’d been thinking it was all to do with loving relationships.’ Suddenly her tone could have slayed rampaging bulls.

A quick glance showed the anger spitting out at him from those beautiful emerald eyes. Anger and something else he couldn’t make out. Hurt? Disappointment? It had come and gone so fast he didn’t have time to work out exactly what that emotion had been.

‘Sash, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant.’ Once he’d have been able to say anything to her and get away with it. That had been before bust-up day. Eleven birthdays and Christmases ago. A doctor’s degree ago. Two broken relationships ago. Relationships he hadn’t cared enough about to make work.

‘My name is Sasha.’ Words as cold as that ice outside fell into the silence.

Not to me you’re not. His heart cracked wide open at her rebuff. He hadn’t set out to be overly friendly by using his pet name for her. But he’d always called her Sash. He hadn’t learned not to. All these years he’d thought about Sash, not Sasha. That was everyone else’s name for her. She used to protest at anyone calling her Sash—except him. Seemed he’d been relegated to the slush heap. His shrug was deliberate and heavy. ‘Sasha.’

The door opened and cold air hit them as Mike and the guys hoisted the second stretcher on board with Mr Donovon strapped down tight.

Their patient roused himself enough to croak out, ‘How’s Lucy?’

‘She’s stable, Sam.’ Sasha held the older guy’s hand for a moment, spoke in a very caring way, nothing like she’d talked to him. ‘I’m glad you’re out of that truck.’

‘You and me both, lass.’

Mike nudged his way between Grady and Sasha. ‘Let’s take a look at you, Sam, before we get on our way.’

‘Are you driving over to Nelson?’ Sasha’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve just come over the hill and it’s not good. Took me a lot longer than normal.’

‘No choice. The rescue helicopter flew to Wellington on an emergency run four hours ago and has been grounded after a wind gust flicked it sideways, causing damage to a rotor,’ Mike explained. ‘Jonty has offered to drive while Rebecca and I keep an eye on these two.’

Rebecca poked her head through from the front, where she’d been having no luck in her attempts to raise the Nelson ED on the radio. ‘I don’t have a lot of confidence driving on ice, whereas Jonty’s had plenty of practice.’

‘You want me to come along?’ Grady asked Mike. ‘I’m happy to help.’ Though it was getting crowded in here.

Mike shook his head as he cut down through the centre of Sam’s trouser leg. ‘No point in all of us missing out on a night’s sleep. Rebecca and I can handle this. Grady, you hitch a ride back with Sasha. She lives on her parents’ property, close by your house.’ Mike really didn’t have a clue about anything.

He saw Sash stiffen for a brief moment. Then she returned to helping Mike, for all the world completely unperturbed by the other doctor’s suggestion. Mike’s idea made perfect sense. She lived very close to his house. He used to be able to get to Sasha’s in under a minute on his motorbike if the road was clear. Bloody lucky he’d never come off on that tight corner by the Wilsons’ gate. ‘Okay with you, Sasha?’ he drawled.

Why did his mind play these games to annoy her when really all he wanted was a bit of peace for the rest of his stay here? He must quit giving the woman a hard time. She hadn’t asked for him to barge back into her life. ‘I can go back with the fire truck if you’d prefer.’

Her mouth tightened, her eyes darkened, and she tugged those small shoulders back hard, automatically pushing that baby bump further out between them. She wouldn’t back down from what she’d been asked to do. But she glared at him as she said, ‘Might as well come with me. I warn you I’m not in a hurry. Too much ice to drive like I’m handling a racing car.’

Now, that was something new. Sash had always driven like she had to win. ‘Works for me.’

‘Let’s go.’ Sasha was blunt. ‘I’m more than ready to be home tucked up in bed for what’s left of the night.’

Air whooshed out of his lungs. Sash and bed. The memories he’d been trying to deny for the last thirty minutes reared up bright and dazzling. Sash—gregarious, generous, sexy, funny. A full-on, crazy, risk-taking kind of girl. An exciting, adventurous lover whose kisses had always left him breathless. And wanting more of her. What he wouldn’t do for one of those now.

Huh? Man, he had a problem, and he was about to hitch a ride with her. He watched her carefully lower to the ground, holding onto the safety rail in case her feet went from under her. So unlike the Sash he knew. But he wanted, needed, to get to know this version.

Mike tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Sorry about dragging you up here, but that’s Golden Bay for us medicos. The isolation means no one can ever totally relax.’

‘No problem,’ he answered mechanically, his eyes still fixed on Sash as she moved away awkwardly, taking each step extra-carefully. Her back ramrod straight, her head high. He knew her chin would be jutting forward, her mouth tight.

Exactly like that last time he’d seen her. On the sand at Pohara Beach below Dad’s house, now his house. She’d turned to walk away from him, the summer wind flattening her burnished gold curls and sandblasting her arms. Her long legs, forever legs, showcased by barely-there shorts, had eaten up the ground as she’d put distance between them.

Those green eyes, big in her fine-featured face, had been fixed on something in the distance at the far end of the beach. Only minutes before they’d been filled with love for him. Love that had rapidly turned to disbelief, and pain, as he’d spewed out his sorry attempt to make her go away so she could have the future she’d already mapped out long before they’d got together. The only kind of future that would suit Sasha. Certainly nothing like the one he’d suddenly faced, brought about by Dad’s death.

If he had a dollar for every time he’d wished his words back over the intervening years he could have retired already. But there’d be no undoing what his mouth had spilled that day. His deliberate attempt to send her on her way had been highly successful. Though he’d been thankful it was done, there’d been a part of him that had wished she’d fought him, made him accept there was no letting go of what bound them together, that theirs was a love that would see them through anything and everything.

Now he had to sit in a vehicle with her for as long as it took to get home. He would not spend the trip remembering her fingers playing over his skin in moments of wild passion. He would not recall how she’d call on her cell phone in the middle of the night and talk dirty till he lost control. Or how she’d climb on the back of his motorbike, slide her arms around his waist and hang on, laughing at the wind in her face. Not. Not. Not.

His heart squeezed painfully. He’d missed Sash so much that even if he could, he didn’t want to go away again without talking to her. Could they bury the elephant between them? These weeks might be his only opportunity. He could put the time to good use and put the real Sasha up against the one in his memory. That might prove interesting. Maybe the biggest disappointment of his life. But then he might finally be able to move on.

‘You going or what?’ Mike asked.

Grady shook his head, concentrated on the here and now. ‘On my way.’

He hadn’t even got the car door shut before Sash turned the key in the ignition. She mightn’t intend driving fast but she wasn’t wasting time hanging around. Glancing his way, she kept her face inscrutable. ‘Ready?’

‘Yes.’ Shrugging back into the corner, he couldn’t stop his gaze wandering over her. His breathing stuttered. She’d grown even more beautiful than he remembered her to be. Her pearly whites were now straight and orderly. The braces she’d hated wearing had done a fantastic job, though he missed the gap between the two front teeth. That had been kind of cute. Sasha’s curls had grown into a long, burnished gold ponytail held firmly in place with a purple clip thing. She still stared directly at everything, everyone. Including him.

And there—in those eyes—he finally recognised something from way back. Those eyes held the same all-seeing, missing-nothing gleam, and they were focused entirely on him. Looking for what?

Then she blinked, turned her head and began backing the vehicle onto the road, before concentrating on taking them down the hill. Her hands were firm on the steering-wheel, her body tilted forward as she peered out the windscreen. She was in control. Nothing new there. But she wasn’t fighting the situation, instead using the gears to go with the conditions outside.

Grady relaxed further back into his seat, clicked his seat belt in place. The vehicle was in capable hands. Unless fate had some ugly plans for them he’d soon be back at his house, warm and comfortable again. And hopefully getting some sleep. Something he seriously doubted was likely to happen.

The only sound was the purr of the engine and the intermittent flick, flick of the wipers. Sasha had never liked silence. But she wasn’t doing anything about filling this one. Grady’s mouth twitched.

Ironic but he wanted to hear noise, her voice, words, anything but this quietness that smothered him.

Her gloved right hand lifted from the steering-wheel and did the gentlest of sweeps across her belly.

His gut squeezed tight. He wanted to place his hand on top of hers, to feel whatever she felt. To be a part of this scene, not an observer. Her gesture had been instinctive, a mother-to-baby touch. Sash was obviously comfortable with being an expectant mum. It suited her.

From what he could see in the dull light from the instrument panel her face had softened, the glint in her eyes quietened, and that chin didn’t point forward. Yes, she was at ease with her situation, if not with him.

The tightening in his gut increased. He wanted to ask about the father of her baby, why she was living back here, how long before she left again, if she was happy. Instead, he looked out the windscreen and went for, ‘How are your parents? Your dad still flying?’

At first it seemed she had no intention of answering. But just when he was about to try again she answered. ‘Dad’s set to retire at the end of the year. He’s getting tired of long-haul flights, finds each one a little harder to recover from than the last. But he doesn’t want to go back on the domestic route. Says that’s for the up-and-coming pilots to sharpen their teeth on.’

‘I’ve never understood how pilots manage all those hours in the air, their bodies not really coping with all the time-zone changes. It can’t be good in the long run.’ Yet he remembered Ian Wilson always having abundant energy. Working their avocado and citrus orchards when he was at home, going fishing, flying his plane, taking his family away for hiking weekends. He’d never stopped. His daughter had the same genes.

‘You haven’t seen Dad for a while. He’s looking older. And he doesn’t move as fast any more.’ Sadness laced her statement. ‘He’s only sixty-three, for goodness’ sake. He shouldn’t be slowing down.’

‘Are you worried about it? Enough to suggest he see a doctor?’

‘No, it’s life catching up, I think.’ She changed gear to reduce speed for a sharp bend. ‘Jackson’s working in Hong Kong so they catch up whenever Dad flies that way.’

So Dr Jackson Wilson, Sasha’s older brother, now lived halfway round the world. No surprise. The guy had been in a hurry to leave the bay the moment he’d finished high school. Guess he hadn’t stopped when he’d reached Auckland either. ‘What does your mother think about Ian retiring?’

‘She’s the reason he’s not stopping as soon as he’d like. I think she’s afraid he’ll take over her orchard and leave her with little to do.’

‘Hardly surprising. It’s been her baby for years.’

Again Sash went all quiet on him. This time the silence hung heavily between them as she concentrated on negotiating the final hairpin bend, her eyes focused straight ahead, her lips pressed hard together. He sensed the tension in her thighs, arms and the rest of her compact body. Because of the road conditions? Or the fact he’d used the baby word?

He broke the silence. ‘When I went for a walk yesterday I noticed the orchard’s been expanded. There’s a lot of work there for anyone to cope with.’ If Ian was sixty-three then his wife had to be a similar age. Time to relax a bit, surely?

It took a few minutes but finally she answered so quietly he had to strain to hear her. ‘Mum tries, and I help when I can.’

‘Is that wise in your condition? Orchard work’s quite heavy.’ Seemed his runaway tongue had no problem with talking. Then his head jerked forward as the car skated to an abrupt halt.

‘By the time you’ve walked home you might’ve learned to keep your unwanted opinions to yourself.’ Sasha stared out the windscreen, not even dignifying him with a glare.

‘I’m sorry. Again.’ He waited. He had no intention of getting out into the night and waiting for the unlikely event of another vehicle coming along.

Might try and learn to keep your trap shut while you’re waiting. Because up until now it’s done nothing but get you further than ever offside with Sasha. If that was possible.

Something akin to fear slithered under his skin. What if he never got to laugh with Sasha again? Never saw her eyes light up into that brilliant summer green that hit him right in the heart? Could he still go and knock on her door and say hi?

She wouldn’t need that from him. Those bases would be covered with the father of her baby. Nausea rolled up Grady’s throat. He hadn’t been able to do any of those things for years. Long, lonely years when he’d looked for her in every woman he dated.

Suddenly he really, truly, understood how coming back to Golden Bay had little to do with working on his house. He could’ve paid a carpenter to do that. No, this mad idea had been all about Sasha and their past.

But it had to be friendship he was looking for.

Nope. Not at all. But it was all he’d get.

But first he needed a ride home.

He did the one thing he was very good at, had been doing for years. He waited.


CHAPTER THREE

SASHA SNAPPED THE shower off after a quick soap and sluice job and snatched at her towel. She’d slept in. She’d be late for work. The one thing she’d do anything to avoid. And on a Monday morning it’d be bedlam at the medical centre. Hopefully, Mike and Roz would give her some slack because she’d been helping Sam and Lucy. There’d be no problem with Rory. He was more laid back than his medical partners.

Why hadn’t she heard her alarm? Hard to believe she’d fallen asleep the moment her head had touched the pillow, that there hadn’t been hours of tossing and turning while Grady ran amok in her skull.

But the moment her eyes had popped open this morning he’d been there. That wary, lopsided smile clawing at her heartstrings. His gravelly voice thrilling her deep, deep inside, stirring hormones into a dance. The lid had lifted off that memory box again.

‘Grady O’Neil, I’ve missed you so much.’ Nothing or nobody in the intervening years had filled the hole he’d torn out of her heart. Out of her soul. There’d been men, for sure, but none had touched her as deeply as Grady. Not even greaseball had hurt her as badly. Could be she was getting used to being tossed aside by the men she’d cared about. Thank goodness. She wouldn’t have survived a repeat of the kind of devastation Grady had caused, leaving her hollowed out.

Kick, kick.

Until the advent of her baby. Flipper would go a long way to making her feel complete again. Flipper would soak up all the love she had to give. ‘My baby girl.’

Swiping the condensation off the mirror, Sasha studied her belly. So round, smooth, life-giving. Her fingers splayed across the taut skin and she turned sideways for a different view. ‘Oh, wow.’ Tears misted her eyes, clogged her throat. ‘You’re beautiful already.’

She never tired of this view. Pregnancy had turned out to be amazing. Hard to believe that a wee baby girl was growing in there, getting ready for the big, wide world. What colour were her eyes? Her hair? ‘My baby. My love.’ Sniff. ‘I promise you, Flipper, I’m going to be the best darned mother you’d ever wish for.’ Sniff. ‘I love you so much already.’ Would love cover all her failings? Help her make wise decisions regarding just about everything? Would her love make up for the lack of a father?

Tossing the towel in the general direction of the drying rail, Sasha fumbled for a tissue and blew hard.

No, Grady, the job’s not up for grabs. As much as my baby needs a dad, I’m not letting you in. It’s bad enough you shoved my love back in my face, and on a bad day I might even take another chance on you, admit extenuating circumstances, but what if you left again? That could hurt Flipper, which is non-negotiable. So, byebye, Grady.

But, for the record, her real father’s out of the picture, too. He made it clearer than a fine winter’s day that he wants absolutely nothing to do with this child. As far as I’m concerned, he’s had his chance.

Kick.

‘Hey, baby girl. You should be sleeping in after your late night.’ Dropping the soggy tissue in the waste basket, Sasha picked up her knickers and stepped into them. Reached for her bra, which got tighter by the day. ‘You know we’re running late, Flipper? The centre will be buzzing with people who’ve knocked themselves about over the weekend, playing rugby or netball, plus the usual line-up of colds and flu.’ The zip on her pregnancy trousers caught. ‘Flipper, you’re putting on weight.’

As she shoved her arms into her blouse there was a loud pounding on her front door. ‘Who the heck?’ Just what she needed, a visitor when she should already be on the road. Then she relaxed. It’d be Jessica. There’d been a message on the answering-machine when she’d got in to call her friend urgently, no matter what the time of day or night. Fairly certain Jessica would be phoning to warn her about Grady’s reappearance, she’d opted to wait until she saw her at work rather than talk for what had been left of the night about how to deal with him.

Heading for the front of her cottage, she left buttoning her blouse and tugged on a woollen cardigan. She swung the door wide, shivering in the cold blast that immediately whacked her. ‘Hey, you can save your breath. I already...’ Her voice petered out as her eyes encountered the one person she’d never expected to see at this moment.

‘You already what?’ Grady asked in such a normal tone, like he always dropped by her place, that the temperature of her blood went from normal to boiling in a flash.

Remain calm. Breathe deep. ‘What are you doing here?’

Grady’s eyes widened but otherwise he remained unperturbed. ‘I need a ride to the medical centre. My car’s at Mike’s.’ His hand slid through that wonderful, nearly shoulder-length black hair that she refused to remember running her fingers through. ‘I presume you’re heading that way shortly.’

The heat in her veins evaporated immediately. A ride to the centre? In her car? He was doing something so mundane as asking a neighbour for a lift and yet she wanted to yell no at him. Yearned to close her door in his beautiful face and lean back on it, while pretending that the guy on the other side meant no more to her than yesterday’s lunch. So much for not letting Grady get to her.

Be calm, act rationally. Do the right, the sensible thing. ‘No problem. Give me a minute. I’ll grab my jacket and bag.’ She didn’t try to sound chirpy. Too tired for that. And wired. Grady mightn’t have kept her awake last night but she hadn’t forgotten for an instant that she’d seen him, that he was back, that she’d missed him more than she’d ever guessed. That her body went a little crazy whenever he was near. Shouldn’t pregnancy dull the sex buzz?

A buzz he didn’t seem to be feeling as he said, ‘Thanks. I’m covering for Mike this morning while he catches up on much-needed sleep. They didn’t get back from Nelson until about five.’

The vague hope that she could drive fast, dump Grady at Mike’s and get on with her day vanished. They’d be in the same building most of the morning until she headed off on her rounds. She’d be unable to avoid him. Even if she didn’t see him she’d hear his deep voice when he talked with patients as he led them to his consulting room or when he took a coffee break in the kitchen. So? What happened to doing friendly? Grady seemed to be managing that. Surely she could? Or didn’t he feel anything about the past? Had he got over it so well that he really thought friendship was possible?

Get real. Grady told you he didn’t love you any more. What was there to get over?

Spinning on her heel, she left him on the doorstep and headed for the kitchen to collect her gear and something to have for breakfast once she got to work.

‘Sash,’ he called after her.

Spinning back, she glared at him, holding in the pain that using the diminutive form of her name caused. Today she would not lower herself to plead that he refrain from using it. Instead, she slapped a hand on her hip and, barely resisting tapping her foot, waited.

‘Sorry. Sasha.’ His chest lifted, fell back into place under that navy jersey that fitted him like a second skin, accentuating all the details of his chest she’d prefer to forget. The tip of his tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth. ‘You might want to take a few more minutes and finish getting dressed.’

What? She glanced downwards. Great. Her blouse was only half-buttoned, exposing her new, getting-bigger-by-the-day cleavage. Her feet were bare. Heck, she hadn’t put any make-up on yet or done her hair. ‘Make that ten minutes.’

* * *

Grady watched as Sash did that spin-on-her-heel thing again. Her back was straighter than straight, her long, mussed hair bouncing as she charged away. And his belly squeezed hard on the boiled egg he’d eaten half an hour ago. Did those golden locks still feel like silk? Did she still enjoy having them hand-combed by someone else?

The wind roared across the lawn, pelted his back with cold and knocked the door against the wall. He stepped inside and closed winter out. Now what? Did he wander through the house like he was welcome? Or wait here just inside the door like a nervous kid outside the headmaster’s office? Like he’d ever done that.

He strode towards the door opposite where Sash had disappeared, hopeful of finding the kitchen. What if her partner was there? Then he’d front up, introduce himself and explain why he was here. He would not say he’d deliberately come by to meet him, to find out who he was and see if they already knew each other.

That baby bump was still there, hadn’t disappeared overnight. Hadn’t been a figment of his overactive imagination. Breakfast rolled over. Regurgitated egg tasted disgusting. Hadn’t tasted that flash first time round, come to think of it. He’d eaten on autopilot, knowing he’d regret it later if he didn’t have breakfast but not overly interested in what he ate. His head space had been filled with images from last night of Sash. Angry, cautious, smiling—not at him—shocked, and very, very protective of her unborn child.

The cupboard that was obviously the kitchen was empty. No partner here. Grady didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. The moment of reckoning had only been delayed.

‘Right, let’s go.’ Sasha’s hand appeared in the periphery of his vision as she snatched up keys lying on the bench.

‘Sasha.’ Grady knew he should stop right there but the words kept on coming. ‘Do you live here alone?’

‘Yes,’ she called over her shoulder, as she strode away to the front door. Her hand on the door handle tightened then she whipped around to face him, her annoyed-looking eyes locking with his. ‘Yes,’ she repeated more emphatically. And then she waited, apparently understanding what he wanted to know and not making it easy for him.

‘The baby’s father doesn’t live with you?’ What part of living alone didn’t you get?

‘Definitely not,’ she snapped, then blinked and turned away, tugging the door open, but not before he saw anger flicker across her face, widening her eyes.

Not sure how he should be feeling right now, he followed her outside. If there wasn’t a father in the picture then maybe he could spend some time getting alongside her and see where that led. Probably fooling himself, setting himself up for heartbreak.

What about that baby? Do you want to be a part of its life? Because if you’re wanting Sash back then she comes with extras.

Something to think about. Though his need to get alongside Sash might override any concerns about the child. At the moment, anyway.

Watching her closely as those keys she’d snatched up flew from one ring-laden hand to the other and back while she waited for him to come outside, he had to resist the urge to wrap her up in a big hug. Nothing sexual. A completely caring and friendly embrace. A hug to take away some of that despair she was valiantly trying to hide behind anger.

The front door closed with a bang. Then the locks on that canary-yellow car popped. Sash’s feet slapped hard on the pavement as she closed the gap to her vehicle then swung back to face him. She’d applied make-up in those few minutes she’d left him standing around, yet her face appeared ghostly pale. But her spine had clicked dead straight again.

‘I am going to be a solo mother.’ Fierce words spoken in her don’t-screw-with-me attitude. So Sash. Watch out anyone who gave her a hard time over that. And there’d be plenty. Small communities might turn out to support anyone who needed them but there was always the gossip doing the rounds, too. Which was why her brother had left so long ago.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/sue-mackay/a-father-for-her-baby/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.