Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

She blinked her eyes open. And blinked again. Kristof towered above her, concern lacing the puzzlement in those beautiful eyes.

Bang. Her heart tightened. And she knew. No doubt at all. She’d gone and fallen in love with Kristof in the space of that intense week. Not the maybe love, or a tentative, ‘see how it worked out’ love. Nor the ‘had a great time and then goodbye’ kind. No, this was a full-on, ‘involve the head, the body and the heart’ love. A deal breaker.

She gasped. There was the problem. They had to make some sort of deal tonight, and she’d gone and got her side all messed up.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked in his professional voice.

* * *

When Kristof strolled up the road to his apartment from the parking garage, relieved another day was over and his patients were getting through post op as well as they should be, he’d been thinking how he could shuck off the clothes of his profession and pull on shorts and a casual shirt to relax with a cold one and think of nothing more difficult than what to have for dinner.

He’d been whistling under his breath, not expecting anything to change his plans as he turned towards his front door.

Then the whistle died. His feet slowed. While his eyes locked on the sleeping form sprawled across his front step.

‘Alesha?’ His heart skittered around in his chest. Alesha was on his doorstep? Why? Something cracked open a tiny way inside him. He slammed it shut with a deep breath and pulled back into work mode. ‘What’s wrong?’ A pebble jabbed his knee when he knelt beside her. Please be okay. What had brought her here? Her long eyelashes were black against her pale skin. In his chest worry stabbed hard. Alesha had to be all right. She just had to be. He couldn’t imagine her any other way, did not want anything bad to have happened to her. So much for being calm about this.

‘Kristof?’ She lifted her head, blinked at him. Then her eyes widened. ‘I fell asleep.’ Her voice was thick with sleep and surprise, as if she’d forgotten why she was here.

He had no idea why she was here. Alesha was the last person he’d expected to find tucked up on his doorstep. Not that he was used to finding anybody here. When they’d said goodbye in Dubrovnik that had been the wrap-up they’d agreed on. The end of a wonderful week, and not even the memories, and, yes, the longing for more in the middle of the night, had been going to change a thing. Yet here she was: the woman who wouldn’t get out of his head. ‘Are you all right?’ Standing, he held a hand out to pull her to her feet.

She rubbed her arms and stared up at him, caution glittering out of those brown eyes. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘How about because you’re sleeping on a front step in a busy central London location? Or because you’re outside my home, which I guess means you’re wanting to visit.’ He didn’t add, When we’d agreed not to get in touch.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, she scrambled to her feet, then pushed back against the door, the rumpled blouse reminding him inexplicably of the night he’d found her pacing outside the apartments dressed only in a bikini and towel. As it wasn’t her clothing that was the same it had to be the look of apprehension in her face that brought back that scene so clearly.

‘It’s good to see you. I’ve been wondering how you were getting on since coming back to London. Mum said you’d enjoyed your time working with her.’ Now he was prattling like a teen on a hormone high. Clamping his mouth shut, he watched Alesha and waited.

‘It was great. Those kids are so resilient they could teach most of us a thing or two about surviving life’s hazards.’ Her breasts rose and fell.

Yes, he remembered them all too well. Warm, soft, skin like satin.

Alesha continued, hopefully unaware of where his mind had strolled. ‘I need to talk to you, but I won’t stay long. Promise.’ Did she just begin to cross her fingers then stop?

Stay as long as you like if I can touch you, hold you close, kiss that worry away. Make another memory.

He dug into his pocket for his keys. ‘Let’s go inside. Feel like a beer? Sorry, I don’t have any of your favourite champagne.’

‘Can I have a cup of tea?’ Her teeth were chattering.

Tea? Apprehension trickled down his spine. ‘No problem.’ He hoped. ‘Come through.’ He led the way to his kitchen and plugged the kettle in before snatching a bottle of beer from the fridge. ‘Sure I can’t tempt you with one of these?’ She had enjoyed a beer on a hot evening in Dubrovnik.

Alesha shook her head as she stared around. ‘Wow. This is state-of-the-art.’

‘Shame it doesn’t get used as much as it should.’

‘You don’t do swanky dinner parties, then?’ There. A glimmer of that wonderful smile that always created knots in his gut.

‘Afraid not.’ Kristof sipped his beer before getting a mug and a teabag.

‘You really do stand alone.’

It was a statement, not a question. Seemed Alesha had seen more of what made him tick than most people ever did, and that was all in the space of a week. He must be slipping. ‘I’m too busy most of the time, and when I do stop working I like to chill out without having to put my best face on.’

‘Oh, boy.’ She slumped, reached for a bench stool and sank onto it.

Apprehension grew, expanding and nudging aside the need for her that had begun pushing through. ‘Why are you here? I’m presuming this isn’t a social call to talk about the weather.’

Cool it. Don’t upset her without good reason.

Alesha wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t necessary. Or would she? Did she want to go back on her word and continue their fling until it petered out—or became something more? Even if she did, it wasn’t happening. He wasn’t about to change his mind over trusting someone with his heart. Not even Alesha, as much as she intrigued him and had got under his skin.

The kettle whistled and clicked off. He poured boiling water over the teabag, his focus entirely on Alesha. Exhaustion was undoing her usually straight posture, while her hands fidgeted at her waist.

‘Stop pouring,’ she said in a surprisingly strong voice. ‘Water’s going everywhere.’

Sure was. A puddle crept towards the edge of the bench. Grabbing the cloth, he wiped it away. ‘You’re good at distractin

g me.’

Brain-slap. So not the thing to say. What if she did want to get together again?

He’d just fed into that line.

She stood up, straightened her body, and locked a steady gaze on him.

And the bottom fell out of his world. He had no idea what this was about, but he did know his life was about to change. For ever. ‘Out with it.’

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Really?’ That was such an old line, and not what he’d expected from Alesha. Showed how little he knew her.

‘Really,’ she said quietly, with dignity.

‘Hang on. Not so fast.’ She was pregnant. They were having a baby. Alesha had said so. Whether it fitted in with his plans or not. What the hell was going on? He wouldn’t, couldn’t, be a parent. Kristof sank onto the stool next to the one Alesha had vacated. ‘You walk in as though you belong here to tell me I’m the father of your baby? When we always used condoms.’ Didn’t they? He couldn’t remember not using one. But they had got carried away to the point he’d known nothing but her body and the desire crashing through him.

A slow, wary nod was her reply, as she sank back down onto the stool.

‘What are your plans for this baby?’

What little colour was in her cheeks disappeared. ‘I’m keeping it. I will love it so much it won’t grow up sad and lonely like me.’ Her finger jabbed her thigh. ‘Don’t ever ask me that again. Got it?’

In spades. ‘What do you want from me?’ He had to start somewhere.

Her body jerked on the chair. ‘To acknowledge you are the father, and to take part in his or her life.’

‘That’s it?’ Disbelief whacked him. Pull the other one. ‘It’s a lot, but what about the other things? Money, somewhere to live.’ His hands slapped his hips as he charged across to the window to stare out, unseeing. The breath he drew was ragged and bitter. ‘What about marriage? You want me to commit to that as well?’

‘No-o.’ The chair crashed on the floor.

Kristof spun around to see Alesha running for the door. ‘Wait.’