The Greek Doctor's New-Year Baby

As she did so, he got up and walked towards her, then slid his arms round her, holding her close.

She pulled away. ‘Theo, this isn’t a good idea.’

‘I’m merely giving you a hug,’ he said softly. ‘As I would any colleague who looked as upset as you do right now. As you said to me once, it’s what friends are for. And I’m here for you.’ He paused. ‘Is it the Scotts?’

‘Partly.’ She sighed. ‘It’s been one of those days. The radiologist called me down to see one of our mums this morning because the baby’s heartbeat wasn’t there. I had to explain to her that she’d lost the baby and was going to miscarry over the next few days—and if she didn’t, she’d have to come in and be induced and she’d have to go through labour. With no baby at the end of it.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Days like this, I really hate what I do for a living.’

Theo wrapped his arms round her again. ‘Every obstetrician I know has days like this. Ones where we can’t help and it makes us wonder what all those years of study were for because we feel so inadequate. And even though we know in our heads that nobody else could have fixed the problem either, it takes a while for our hearts to remember it.’ He stroked her hair. ‘The best thing you can do right now is to think of all the other days. All the times when it goes right and you’re the one who helps bring a new life into the world and hears a baby’s very first cry.’

‘I know.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘But, as you said, there’s a difference between head and heart.’

Yes. His own head and heart were having one hell of a struggle at the moment. His head knew he should let her go. His heart wanted to keep her exactly where she was: in his arms. Close. Near enough to kiss.

Though now wasn’t the right time to put pressure on her or try and make sense of the muddle in his head. He let her go. ‘Come on. I’m taking you out for something to eat.’

She shook her head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I really don’t think I can face anything.’

‘Then I’ll make you something at my place. We need to get out of here.’ At her surprised glance, he admitted, ‘The Scotts have got to me as well. I meant what I said just now. I too hate the days when we can’t fix things and make everything all right again. So I think right now you and I need some serious comfort food.’

For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse. But then she nodded. ‘OK. Thanks.’

He quickly logged out of the system and shut down his computer, and walked off the ward with her. Just as they reached the exit doors, Theo remembered the flowers he’d ordered. And how inappropriate they were. ‘Excuse me a minute, Maddie. I need to make a quick call.’ One he didn’t want her to overhear. To his relief, she gave him the space he needed, so he rang the florist to explain there had been an unavoidable delay and he’d collect them the following day instead.

‘All sorted?’ she asked when he’d cut the connection and walked back over to her.

‘Yes. Come on, let’s go and eat.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEO’S house was within walking distance of the hospital; he and Madison didn’t bother with conversation on the way there, but at least it was a companionable silence.

Madison wondered if she were doing the right thing. He’d held her in his office. Said that he was just doing what any friend or colleague would do.

And it wasn’t enough for her any more, being just friends and colleagues.

Because she realised that she’d fallen in love with Theo. The one thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do since Harry—fall in love with a man who didn’t want the same things in life that she did. She’d made the same mistake all over again, even down to falling for a man she hadn’t known for very long.

She must need her head examined.

When he closed the front door behind them, she said, ‘Theo, this is really sweet of you, but right now I don’t think I can face food.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he cut in, before she could protest further. ‘And it will make you feel better, I promise.’

‘But—’

‘No buts, Maddie.’

He was in steamroller mode and Madison just didn’t have the energy to fight him, so she let him shepherd her into the kitchen. He poured coffee grounds into a pan, along with a measure of water, stirred it and set it to boil on the stove while he heated milk.

She blinked. ‘You’re making us Greek coffee?’

‘I’m making myself Greek coffee,’ he corrected, shaking coffee grounds into a single-cup filter. ‘I know you don’t like it, so don’t worry. I’m not going to make you drink it.’