Heart Surgeon to Single Dad

Her eyes widened momentarily, but she quickly looked intrigued. So much for his prim and proper impression of her at the airport. Thank God he’d given himself permission to forget the real world and just play for three days. Three days to spend with this surprising woman.

Chuckling, he grabbed her hand. “Come on, Natalie. Let’s go pay for our two boxes.”

They’d opted to walk the beach to a neighboring hotel’s gift shop rather than risk one of their colleagues seeing them stock up at the conference hotel. Matthew had enjoyed the sea air and having Natalie’s hand clasped within his during the nighttime walk, but the fifteen minutes back to their hotel suddenly seemed like a long time.

“How did you get involved with the Libertine robot project?” she asked once they were back on the beach and headed toward their hotel.

“You want to talk shop?” He just wanted to get back to the hotel and get her naked. Completely this time. He had a lot of exploring to do and was looking forward to discovering every nook and cranny.

“The Libertine fascinates me,” she continued, her hand snug in his. “I’ve watched you perform surgery with it, you know.”

He shot a look at her, the moonlight casting just enough light across her face to illuminate her beautiful features. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I couldn’t tell much about you, since you were wearing a surgical mask, glasses and cap and the film clip pretty much only showed the surgery. I guess technically I watched a video of your hands doing miraculous things, because I don’t recall anything of your face and I wouldn’t have forgotten your eyes had I ever seen them.” She smiled sheepishly, then went on. “From how long I’ve been seeing your name quoted in the cardiology world, I had thought you much older.”

He got that a lot. He’d been fortunate to become involved with the Libertine from early in its inception as a surgical tool. Near the end of med school, his passion had shifted his interest to surgical advances being made in treating congenital defects in utero. Robert had followed suit.

Working for a robotics company, Carolyn had been one of the key design engineers on the Libertine. It was how they’d all met. He and Robert had been practically inseparable since grade school. Carolyn had changed that somewhat, but Matthew had felt more as if they’d added a third player to their team, rather than their friendship losing anything, when his best friend married the brilliant engineer.

He missed them so much. Three months and it didn’t seem real that he’d never see them again, never discuss the Libertine, or difficult cases. Never catch another football game while Carolyn laughed at their long-term rivalry of the Cowboys against the Steelers. Never again—

“You okay?” Natalie’s voice broke into Matthew’s memories.

Fighting back the hollow ache in his gut, he clenched his teeth. How had he let such depressing thoughts in tonight when he felt alive, truly alive, for the first time since before he’d gotten the call that Robert and Carolyn’s plane had gone down?

“Just got lost in thought.” He flashed a smile that wasn’t as real as he’d like, but there wasn’t enough light that she’d likely be able to tell. “How old do you think I am?”

She glanced his way a few moments, making him wonder if perhaps she saw better in the low light than he’d given her credit for, but she seemed to make the decision not to push. Maybe because she didn’t want to know what he’d really been thinking about.

“Uh-uh.” Her smile was wide, bright, not so over-the-top as to come across as completely fake. “I’m not guessing your age. If I go too high you might be offended. If I go too low, you’ll accuse me of robbing the cradle.”

Her voice was light, but her grip on his hand had tightened, offering a comfort he soaked up and was amazed at how much better her smile and touch left him feeling.

He chuckled. “No chance you robbed the cradle, Natalie. That would be me. I’m probably a good ten years older than you.”

“I seriously doubt it.” She told him her age.

“Eight years older,” he corrected. “I’m the one who robbed the cradle, it seems.”

“Eight years isn’t that much,” she assured. “You’re barely into your forties.”

A memory of his fortieth birthday, spent with Robert and Carolyn, popped into his head. They’d rented out their favorite restaurant’s back room, invited a ton of

mutual friends and acquaintances and surprised him with a birthday bash.

“Hey—you okay?” she asked again.

Why had his friends popped back into his head so quickly when he’d just scolded himself for letting them in on a night meant to drown them out?

His gaze cut to Natalie. Why did he find himself wanting to tell her about them?

“You quit walking,” she pointed out. “And you’re squeezing my hand as if you’re afraid if you let go the wind might carry me out to sea.”

Matthew forced his fingers to pry loose from hers, raked them through his hair. “Sorry.”

“That sensitive about your age, huh? I’ll keep that in mind and be sure not to make any more age references.”

Pushing thoughts of his friends from his mind yet again, Matthew shook his head and gave in to Natalie’s teasing. “I’ve no problem with being called an old man.”