Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

‘On my way. Fill me in on everything now.’ Kristof listened as he turned off the gas elements. ‘Sounds like a pulmonary embolism. Take bloods for haematology, coagulation and biochemistry. I’ll fill out the form when I get there. Give Radiology the heads up that we’ll be needing imaging.’

Quickly he scrawled Alesha a note.

Sorry, got called in to see a patient. Help yourself to anything you want. I’ll be back as soon as possible to continue our discussion.

Kristof

He refrained from adding an X at the end, though as he drove towards the hospital he kind of wished he had put it there. It might go some way to getting back on side with Alesha. Then again, why complicate an already complicated situation? Alesha might read more into a simple penned kiss than he meant. Or she might do a runner, head for the train and the Friday-night revellers that would be on board. She’d better not leave. If she was adamant about going home later he’d drive her.

Or she might not wake up until he got home and climbed into bed beside her.

What? Why not? He could hold her, in the most innocent way, as a comfort, as support.

Oh, yeah, as if Alesha would accept that quietly. Somehow he felt cuddling was off the agenda for now, if not for ever.

That shouldn’t sadden him; he should be ecstatic she wouldn’t complicate things in that respect. It did, and he wasn’t.

Go figure.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ALESHA WOKE AND stared around the semi dark room. ‘Where am I?’

Then nausea struck and she leapt off the bed, followed the light source to what was a fully equipped bathroom. Grateful for en suite bathrooms, she sank to her knees in front of the porcelain and let her baby rule.

Her head pounded and her eyes were filled with sleep grit. Her body felt like a well-worn car tyre, and she couldn’t focus on anything except feeling so bad. Looking around the room, she saw a familiar shirt on top of the laundry basket and it all tumbled back into her mind.

She was at Kristof’s and they’d been discussing the baby when she’d fallen asleep. That made her look enthusiastic, didn’t it? But nowadays when the need for sleep hit there was no stopping it. Unless she was at work she usually grabbed half an hour on the couch and was good to go again. At work she put matchsticks under her eyelids and carried on regardless, triple-checking everything she did.

Laying her hand on her belly, she drew up a smile. ‘Hello, little one. You’re being a wee bit tough on your mum, you know? I could do without all this sickness stuff. But then I suppose it’s part of the deal and if it keeps you safe and comfy then I’ll manage.’

Panic gripped her. What if she got what she wished for? At the cost of her baby? Pushing to her feet, she stared at her image in the mirror. ‘Stay aboard, whatever you think. I love you already. Got that?’

Raising her blouse, she regarded her flat stomach. Not a hint of what lay inside. Turning side on, she changed her mind. ‘A slight curve going on.’ The panic backed off as fast as it had struck. ‘I can’t wait to meet you. Are you a girl or a boy?’ If only she could be heard and understood, she’d love to feel a kick in answer to her questions.

Then her stomach groaned. Hunger was gathering strength. Kristof had mentioned chops and salad. Her mouth salivated. She had to find the kitchen. Which proved to be interesting. The apartment made the house she shared with three others look like a shoebox. There weren’t many rooms but they were all very large, furnished elegantly and tastefully. It matched Kristof’s professional look, not that sexy, have-fun man who only came out after everyone else had been seen to.

Not the sort of furniture for little children to climb all over.

That was Kristof’s problem, not hers. So far she didn’t have any furniture, not even a bed, but if she bought a place she’d have fun selecting things to make it look pretty and comfortable and usable. It could also be a disaster considering her lack of experience in decorating. But learning would be exciting. She’d do the baby’s room first, sleep on the floor in the meantime if necessary. This settling down was sounding better by the day.

But now she had a father-in-waiting to talk to.

Except all she found was a note. And the smell of minted potatoes, which were cooked to perfection. Sitting in the hot water must’ve finished them off. A delicious-looking salad in the fridge made her mouth water. All that was needed was one of those chops Kristof had mentioned. Would it be rude to cook herself one? Make that two, if the growling going on in her stomach was an indicator.

Rude or not, she couldn’t wait until he came home. If he came home this side of midnight. Getting called in to a patient often meant long hours. Kristof might be in Theatre again, and even a short operation took time to prepare for, to undertake, and then hang around to see how the patient fared. The chops definitely couldn’t wait a moment longer.

As Alesha slid two chops, slightly pink in the middle, onto a plate, she heard keys being dropped on the table by the front door. ‘Well timed,’ she called. Then hoped it was Kristof. Someone else might live here for all she knew. Someone who’d object to finding a stranger in the kitchen making a mess. She might be able to appease them with a chop.

No, her stomach growled. I need both those.

‘Smells wonderful,’ the gruff, sexy voice relieved her of that worry, but only set in motion all the other concerns about what role he’d finally decide on in the baby department. Her baby not having a father who loved and cared about him could not happen.

‘I’ll put some more on. We can start with one each.’ She was acting as if she was in charge in Kristof’s kitchen. Finally she was learning not to let other people dominate her. Not that this man did that.

Stay the night.

Not too much anyway.

He stood right beside her, watching as she added more oil to the pan, swirling it as it expanded with the heat. Then he picked up one of the cooked chops and bit into it. ‘You know what you’re doing.’

‘Hey, I need that.’ She grabbed the other before he could lay claim to it.

Kristof nodded. ‘Salad and spuds after the protein?’

Alesha waved her chop between them. ‘Only because I don’t trust you not to steal this when I’m spooning salad onto my plate.’ Was he in a good mood? Or still in shock? That raw denial seemed to have disappeared from his eyes, but she couldn’t read what had replaced it.

‘Come on, now. Would I do that?’

‘Yes. You stole two of my deep-fried squid at the charity dinner.’

‘I made up for it later.’

With the most amazing sex she’d ever experienced. Yep, she got it. Making light of a grave situation must be Kristof’s way of coping. She backed away, sank onto a chair. ‘We’re not having sex tonight, not any night. The fling is over.’

‘You’re right.’ Not even a hint of a smile now.

Kristof filled his plate with salad and sat down beside her at the small table. ‘We did get on well when we didn’t overthink things.’

Yes, but they hadn’t had a baby in the picture then. The tomato was surprisingly sweet on her tongue, giving her hope other things could be too. ‘Let’s try to keep it that way. There’s a lot at stake.’

‘I agree.’ His eyes were thoughtful. ‘Have you told anyone else?’

She tried for a smile, but exhaustion got in the way. ‘No. You had to be the first person who knew.’

‘Thank you. That’s important to me.’

Because she put him first? About to slip one finger across the back of his hand, she hesitated. Best not. ‘I won’t ever deliberately hurt you, or abuse your trust in me.’

His chair legs squeaked as they were pushed across the tiles. ‘You don’t know me well enough to trust me with something as important as your baby’s future.’

Alesha drew herself up and locked her eyes on his. ‘There are a lot of

things I haven’t a clue about when it comes to you, but I do know in here—’ she tapped her chest ‘—that I can trust you to be considerate and to care about me in regards to our child. Actually, make that I trust you totally.’ She really did. There were no grounds for this, and while every man she’d spent more than a couple of dates with had hurt her in one way or another this beggared belief. But she did believe it. Kristof would not do the dirty on her. How often had he watched out for her during their fling week? Attended her needs before his? That had been wonderful, worth gold.

Now she just had to prevent her heart thinking it was winning and that she was about to throw herself at Kristof. Because trust was well and good, but it wasn’t the whole picture. Discovering she loved him didn’t mean he reciprocated; didn’t allow her to stop fighting for what her baby needed; wouldn’t make the coming months a breeze to get through. Only if they could find common ground, fall in love together, make a real go of being a family.

In your dreams. Alesha.

His head came down, close to her, then his lips caressed her forehead. Inside, her temperature rose and her muscles softened, her stomach turned to goo. This was beautiful. It made her feel special. Which it shouldn’t. She should back away now. Before he told her he wasn’t interested in her or their baby.