Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad

‘Morning, Abigail. Late again, I see.’ Kieran strode alongside her as she dashed down the corridor towards the department. His tone dampened her pleasure at seeing him.

‘Only by five minutes.’ At least she had a good excuse. ‘Olivia tipped a bowl of porridge over herself and we had to start dressing all over again.’ But, of course, he wouldn’t know what that was like.

‘Olivia must’ve looked a sight.’ Kieran gave her a brief smile. ‘But you must allow time for these things. It’s not fair on your colleagues if you keep arriving late after the shift handover is under way.’

‘Keep arriving late? I don’t make a habit of it.’

‘Twice last week.’

Who’s counting? ‘You really don’t get it, do you? Kids aren’t that easy to organise.’ How dared Kieran criticise her? She drew a breath. She hadn’t finished. ‘While you’re at it, tell me where I’m supposed to find any extra time in the mornings. I’m already up by six, running around like a demented chook trying to get the house in order before my children strike.’

Kieran stared at her, amazed. ‘Whoa, I only suggested you might try to be more punctual. Careful.’ He grabbed her elbow and tugged her to one side as an orderly negotiated a bed past them. ‘It’s probably only a case of organising everything better.’

She jerked her arm free. The temptation to strangle him was huge. Had he not learned anything about raising children yet? Could he not try to understand how it was for her? ‘Organised? Sure, buddy, from now on I’ll get up at five, do the vacuuming, make the beds before Olivia and Seamus get out of them, prepare breakfast, hang out the washing in the dark, have my shower and put on make-up and immaculate clothes, and finally drive to work with two beautifully behaved children, beating the rush-hour traffic to arrive in the department all smiles and looking very serene.’

She sank back against the wall. What had got into her? Her tongue was like a runaway roadster. It wasn’t Kieran’s fault she’d spent the weekend checking the gate to see if he might have turned up. She’d behaved worse than Olivia. Had he stayed away because of her stupid mistake of calling him Daddy on Friday night?

‘Buddy?’ Kieran stared at her as though she’d gone stark, raving mad. ‘Abigail, is something wrong? I’ve obviously upset you.’

‘Upset me?’ Totally. Not because of his criticism but because he was never out of her head, keeping her awake hours after she went to bed every night. ‘No, not at all. I’ve got a touch of Monday-itis.’

She spun around and headed for the nurses’ station, Kieran keeping pace with her, thankfully staying quiet.

‘Abby, don’t think you can ease your way in today. It’s crazy around here already.’ Sally added to her mounting stress. ‘Kieran, cubicle three, please.’

Kieran reached for the file in Sally’s hand. ‘What have we got?’

‘A twenty-five-year-old woman with an aching leg.’

‘Abigail, come with me.’

Grrr. Abby wanted to go home and start again. To put on her best smile and pretend she was coping with Kieran reappearing in her life.

Reluctantly she followed him. He paused outside the cubicle, and his wary smile caught at her, undermining her bad mood. ‘I apologise if I sound uncaring. I’m not. Guess this shows I don’t know anything about parenting.’

She softened her tone. ‘There’s only one way to learn. It’s called the hands-on approach.’ A family could be a tie, and it hurt to know Kieran didn’t want that.

‘I know, and I should’ve visited over the weekend but I was busy.’

Sure, partying, socialising. Steph had told her he’d accepted her invitation to that party she’d mentioned. ‘No rest for the wicked, eh?’ Face it, Kieran could be very wicked. In the nicest, sexiest possible way, her brain mocked her.

A burly young man stood by the bed in the cubicle, his arm around the shoulders of a distressed woman. The obvious worry darkening his eyes made Abby take stock and push those distracting images of Kieran away. But she wished she had someone special to care for her as intensely. And she wasn’t meaning her father or sisters.

Neither did she mean Kieran.

She was never going to get that close to the man. Or any other man, remember? Remember? Yes, she did. So why was she suddenly having all these odd feelings of missing out on something really important?

The young man said, ‘It’s Jane’s right leg. She says it’s agony to stand on. We can’t get her jeans off, it’s swollen so much.’

‘Hello, Jane. I’m Dr Flynn and this is Nurse Brown. I am going to have to remove your jeans to examine your leg. We might have to use scissors.’

‘I’ll try pulling them off again.’ Jane grimaced, but removing the jeans proved too painful.

‘I guess there’s no choice.’ Abby went in search of scissors.

‘I’ve only just bought these jeans,’ Jane muttered when she returned.

Abby smiled in sympathy. ‘They’re gorgeous.’ Designer ones, the sort that Abby could never squeeze herself into. ‘I bet you didn’t get them here.’

‘I bought them in Switzerland two weeks ago.’

Kieran’s eyebrows rose fractionally. ‘What were you doing there?’

‘Skiing. Ahh …’ The girl sucked a breath as the denim fell away, removing the pressure on the swelling.

‘Any accidents or falls? You didn’t twist your knee at any time?’ Kieran queried as he examined the inflamed leg.

Jane shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘When did you get back to New Zealand? Did you come straight through?’ Abby asked, wondering if this could be a case of deep vein thrombosis. She looked up to find Kieran watching her. He nodded imperceptibly, as though to say she was on the right track.

‘Two days ago. It’s a long haul from Zurich, through Frankfurt, Hong Kong, Auckland. My body clock’s only just catching up. I keep wanting to go to bed in the middle of the day.’ Jane smiled for the first time. ‘Not a good look when I’m supposed to be organising kayaking trips for tourists.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Kieran smiled his big, calming smile.

That smile might not have had much effect on Jane, but it sent Abby’s heart rate soaring. Fickle heart. She wasn’t supposed to notice anything about Kieran other than his medical skills.

Next he asked, ‘Any history of thrombosis in your family? Have you had a clot in the past?’

Tears welled in Jane’s eyes. ‘I wondered about that. I don’t know of anyone having had clots but I’d have to ask Mum.’

Kieran said, ‘Are you on an oral contraceptive?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you take any aspirin before or during the flight?’

Jane shook her head. ‘Will I be all right? People die of clots.’

‘You’ve done the right thing coming in here.’ Abby folded the now useless jeans.

Kieran explained what would happen next. ‘I’ll arrange an ultrasound scan of your veins. If that doesn’t show up a clot, we’ll X-ray the knee to see if you did some damage while skiing.’

Jane’s lip trembled as she asked, ‘Will I be all right? I mean, if it’s a clot, what if it moves?’

Kieran reassured her. ‘I’ll give you blood-thinning drugs to slow any further clots forming, and we’ll put that leg in elastic hose. Then we wait.’

Back at the station Kieran filled Sally in on what he required, before turning to Abby. ‘You were on to the idea of DVT straight away, weren’t you? That’s why you asked about those jeans.’

Abby shrugged. ‘They’re such an unusual style I didn’t think they came from around here.’

‘You were really good with Jane.’ Another of those beguiling smiles lifted the corner of his mouth.

Trying to get back on side with her? Warmth trickled through her, banishing all traces of her earlier mood. If he could try, so could she. ‘I do listen to everything a patient says, not just their comments about aches or pains.’

‘You have an analytical mind when y

ou’re dealing with patients. Ever consider studying medicine? You’d be a brilliant doctor.’

Bam. The warmth evaporated. As quickly as it had come. She reached for the next patient file. ‘It crossed my mind once, but nursing suits me better.’ Glancing at the notes in her hand, she said, ‘Looks like we’ve got a broken arm in cubicle one.’

Kieran stepped in front of her. ‘Why?’

She deliberately squinted at the handwriting on the page. ‘Looks like Mrs Webb fell down her back steps.’

‘No, why nursing and not doctoring? And don’t tell me it’s because of the children. Olivia became your ward long after you’d finished your training.’