Kitabı oku: «From Doctor To Daddy»
Can he fix the past...
...by giving her daughter a future?
Six years ago, Dr. Fraser Breckenridge allowed Sara to walk out of his life and has always regretted it. He seizes the opportunity to employ her on board a Caribbean cruise ship for dialysis patients, but Sara now has an adorable little girl who urgently needs a new kidney. Can Fraser uncover why Sara left and give her—and Esme—a reason to stay?
Born in the UK, BECKY WICKS has suffered interminable wanderlust from an early age. She’s lived and worked all over the world, from London to Dubai, Sydney, Bali, NYC and Amsterdam. She’s written for the likes of GQ, Hello!, Fabulous and Time Out, a host of YA romance, plus three travel memoirs—Burqalicious, Balilicious and Latinalicious (HarperCollins, Australia). Now she blends travel with romance for Mills & Boon and loves every minute! Tweet her @bex_wicks and subscribe at beckywicks.com.
Also by Becky Wicks
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
From Doctor to Daddy
Becky Wicks
ISBN: 978-1-474-08990-6
FROM DOCTOR TO DADDY
© 2019 Becky Wicks
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
Extract
About the Publisher
PROLOGUE
FRASER STOPPED TO rest his arms on the ledge at the top of Edinburgh Castle. Brick houses, trees, and in the distance sparkling water shone like a painting under a clear blue sky. He inhaled a lungful of fresh Scottish air. The city was so damn beautiful when the sun shone.
The surgery was crazy, as usual, and he’d taken a morning walk to prep himself, but someone needed him already. He could tell by the vibrations in his pocket.
He pulled out his phone, turning his face to the rare sun. ‘Hi, Anton.’
‘Fraser, good morning. I came across a file that might be of interest for the Ocean Dream, if you’re still looking for a dialysis nurse.’
‘I am.’ Fraser smiled at two kids running around a cannon, pretending to shoot each other.
He couldn’t really remember which positions had been filled and which hadn’t—he’d been so busy. In truth, he hadn’t had time to think much about working on the cruise ship at all this year. That was why he’d put Anton in charge of recruiting the medical team.
‘I’ve found a great dialysis nurse in London who fits the bill. But—get this. She also has a five-year-old daughter who’s on the kidney donor list. Rare blood type. The kid’s never been on a ship before, so naturally I thought...’
‘Sounds great.’ Fraser held the phone closer as the kids ran shrieking around him. He really needed all this in an email, otherwise he’d forget, but he asked anyway. ‘What’s the nurse’s name?’ He started walking across the court towards the gate.
‘Her name is Sara...’
Anton paused, obviously to look at something.
‘Sara Cohen—and her kid’s name is Esme.’
Fraser stopped abruptly and gripped the phone tight in his hand. A tourist almost walked into the back of him.
‘Sara Cohen?’ The name brought a thin sheen of sweat to his forehead. The cool breeze blew over it, giving him goose bumps. How long had it been since he’d heard that name? Six years? After a while he’d stopped counting.
He mouthed an apology to the lady he’d stopped in front of. Her eyes swept his tall frame, in jeans, a fitted shirt and blazer, and she blushed.
He stepped aside. ‘Anton, when is the cruise, exactly—remind me?’
‘A month from today,’ Anton said. ‘Her daughter is pretty pumped for it, as you can imagine. Sara’s just waiting on the go-ahead from St Gilda’s, where she works, but between you and me I think we’ve found our fit.’
Fraser’s head was still reeling. Sara Cohen had a five-year-old daughter? Maybe it was a different Sara Cohen. ‘What’s her background?
He forced his legs to continue down the hill, through the crowds of tourists, past the bagpipe player in his kilt at the bottom.
Anton described the nurse’s profile, some of which he knew, some of which he didn’t. It was definitely the same Sara Cohen.
Six years had come between them. Six years of no contact... Aside from that one time he’d flown to London to talk to her and seen her with that other guy. The sight had made his insides burn. He’d regretted going there instantly, and hadn’t attempted contact with her since. Not that she’d made any attempt with him either.
‘What about the father?’ he said now, trying not to sound as if he was fishing. ‘Esme’s father—Sara’s husband?’
‘It’ll just be the two of them,’ Anton said. ‘She’s single, as far as I know.’
In the car on his way to the surgery, Fraser’s brain ran on overdrive. He could still see her face, standing in his bedroom, telling him they should go their separate ways. She’d never even let him have a say.
He could also vividly picture her standing with that guy, outside the restaurant at the end of her street. She’d been in a nurse’s uniform. Had that been Esme’s father? Why had he left them?
Think about this, he told himself sternly as he drove. He’d been about to cancel his work on the cruise—send someone else in his place. The Breckenridge Practice was busier than ever. Plus, living away from his mother in the new apartment still left him with enough of a twinge of guilt without him heading off to sea. His parents had run the practice from an extension of the huge family home for fifteen years. It still felt empty without his father.
But this was Sara Cohen. The woman he’d sworn six years ago he would one day make his wife.
Maybe he should rethink working on one more cruise.
CHAPTER ONE
NO SOONER HAD Sara heaved her suitcase onto her single bed and flung it open than a voice sounded out over the Tannoy, making her jump.
‘Could all renal care specialists report on Deck One for orientation in five minutes’ time? Thank you.’
She swept the back of her hand across her clammy brow and caught sight of herself in the tiny mirror, visible through the open bathroom door. Calling it a bathroom was a stretch, and already a source of amusement. She’d never been in a bathroom that looked this much like a cupboard before.
Running the tap and splashing cold water onto her face, she considered that she shouldn’t have taken that call from her father back at the hotel, which in turn had caused them to board the Ocean Dream at the very last minute. Now she had barely any time to change before she was due upstairs to join Esme and her new on-board carers, plus all the other patients she’d be sailing through the Caribbean with.
‘Anything can happen at sea. You’d better look after each other.’
She recalled the gentle warning in her father’s words. She hoped he needed no real reassurance that Esme would be fine. She was in her care after all.
She also hoped Esme wasn’t too scared, up on deck. This was a big deal for a five-year-old—let alone one like Esme. Not only was this the first time she’d been on a ship, or a boat of any kind, it was her first time away from the dialysis clinic.
She hurried to reapply her lipstick in the tiny mirror.
Esme was the lucky one here, really. She got to share a big cabin on another floor with several other kids—like a giant fun sleepover, complete with two carers on shift at all times. Sara was going to have to work night shifts, so sharing a cabin with her daughter just wouldn’t have been an option.
Applying her mascara, she thought of her sister, and their conversation the night before they’d left London for Fort Lauderdale.
‘I still can’t believe you’re working on a cruise. I thought you hated the ocean,’ Megan had said.
‘I don’t hate the ocean. You think I hate the ocean because I didn’t want to go snorkelling with you and your Latino lover. You were all over each other out there—I’m surprised the fish didn’t throw up.’
They’d laughed, but they’d both known it was still a bit of a sore point that their last ‘girls’ holiday’ together—almost a year ago now—had wound up with Megan frolicking in the waves for a week with a Mexican guy called Pedro, while Sara read the entire Game of Thrones series on her sun-lounger, feeling guilty about leaving Esme.
‘It’s not for pleasure this time anyway—it’s for work.’
‘I know...’ Megan had sighed.
Megan knew all about the haemodialysis patients, of course, and how much Sara cared for every single one in her charge.
If it hadn’t been for Esme’s illness, Sara would probably never have thought about adding dialysis training to her medical repertoire, but she was thankful now, more than ever, that she had.
‘Can you believe I get to introduce her to this new world, Megan? I get to help all these people see places they never thought they’d see.’
‘I think it’s amazing, what you’re doing,’ her sister had told her sincerely. ‘But just make sure you have some fun yourself this time, OK?’
‘I know, I know.’
The dialysis care was just part of Sara’s new position on the ship. She’d been hired as a member of the Ocean Dream’s wider medical team.
While she’d signed up for Esme’s benefit, and for whomever else might need her expertise on-board, she knew that during their free periods the ship’s staff were permitted to hang out on the main deck, where a lot of activities were set to take place.
They would be able to mingle with the guests and even go shore-side if the ship was in port. It was pretty much all-expenses-paid travel with a salary on top, and an opportunity she hadn’t been able to refuse when that nice recruitment guy Anton had called.
Draping her ship ID on its lanyard around her neck, she hurried out of the cabin and made her way down the narrow corridor to the elevator, smoothing her blonde shoulder-length waves of hair as she went.
She observed again the opulence of the ship. Paintings depicting landscapes and seascapes hung on the walls of the dark wood-panelled corridors. The golden railings beneath them warned of potential bumpy waters. But she was more excited than nervous.
The Ocean Dream’s dialysis team involved a handful of dedicated professionals from the UK, who would be caring for individuals on dialysis. Most of their patients were travelling with their families from Port Everglades.
She’d been told some of the regular medical staff on board rotated around various ships throughout the season. It sounded like a fascinating lifestyle. But for her this was a one-off. She could never contemplate it long term while she had Esme’s illness and her schooling to contend with.
‘It’s so fancy, isn’t it?’ An elderly lady giggled as she passed a painting of a golden-tailed mermaid.
‘It’s “a five-star hotel on the ocean”,’ Sara replied, quoting the website and hurrying on towards the upper deck, her green summer dress swishing at her ankles.
Passengers were still wheeling cases into staterooms on both sides of her and she felt another spike of exhilaration. The Ocean Dream was a luxurious beast, packed with almost five thousand regular customers, all paying top coin for, also quoting the website, A unique combination of first-class accommodation, live entertainment, exceptional cuisine and a wide choice of restaurants, bars, lounges and clubs.
Bermuda, Aruba and Antigua were all on the itinerary. And Sara was still grinning at the prospect of introducing Esme to the joys of sandcastle-building in the Caribbean when she reached the deck.
The harsh Florida sun launched at her head and shoulders, blinding her for a moment to the crowd gathered round a makeshift stage where Dr Renee Forster, the highly regarded leader of the dialysis team and one of the two practising nephrologists on board, was already speaking.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she whispered to Esme’s official carer, Jess.
Esme, standing at her knee height in denim shorts and a purple T-shirt, seemed concerned.
Sara took her little fingers. ‘How are you doing, baby girl?’
Esme shrugged at the floor.
‘We’re so excited to have you all on board today!’ Dr Forster, a tall African American woman with a hard New York accent, was beaming. ‘As you can see, the weather is perfect, and our captain assures me that our departure and our days at sea en-route to Aruba will be plain sailing. Plenty of time for us all to get to know each other.’
Sara squeezed Esme’s small hand reassuringly. She looked around her. It seemed her own daughter was set to be her youngest dialysis patient, which wasn’t unusual.
Perspiring porters in white and blue uniforms were still loading crates and bags and boxes from ramps onto the ship. Palm trees were waving from the port like jealous passengers.
She noticed a kid in green board shorts far across the deck—not part of their group. He was whispering something to his mother, who looked away quickly when Sara met her eyes.
Instincts primed, she knew the young boy had been asking about the bandage over Esme’s catheter, poking out above the neckline of her T-shirt. It was either that or the camcorder Esme wouldn’t put down. It was practically glued to her hand these days.
‘What a ship, huh?’ she whispered, concerned that her sweet daughter might see the boy and feel embarrassed. Esme was already more than aware of how different she was from other children. ‘Are you as excited as me right now?’
Esme just shrugged again. Something twisted in Sara’s gut. It wasn’t straightforward, bringing a kid on dialysis on holiday.
Dr Forster was still speaking. ‘Remember, our nurses are experienced, licensed dialysis nurses, so you’re in good hands. We’re all here to ensure your exact dialysis prescriptions are met, and also that your special dietary needs are accommodated with the help of the ship’s dining staff. That’s them over there.’
Sara turned to where she was pointing. The line-up of catering staff raised their hands in greeting. They scanned the faces of the roughly twenty patients they’d be caring for, their eyes all lit up in excitement.
‘I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce the wonderful Dr Fraser Breckenridge, our Chief Doctor and Head of the Ocean Dream’s Medical Department. He’ll be overseeing all the medical issues aboard the ship, so chances are you’ll see him around. Can you come up here for a second, Dr Breckenridge?’
Sara blinked. Maybe she’d misheard.
No, she hadn’t misheard.
Time stopped and then started moving backwards.
Fraser Breckenridge, in all his gym-honed glory, was striding from her vivid memory bank, right into her present. She watched in shock as he took his place on the stage.
It can’t be...
Dr Forster handed him a microphone. Sara scanned his muscled six-foot-three frame as his presence immediately dominated not just the stage, but the entire deck of the ship. It was really him. Why? And why did he have to look so good?
She couldn’t help but stare. From where she was standing he looked exactly as he had the night she’d left him in his giant family home that doubled as the Breckenridge Practice in Edinburgh. She hadn’t heard from him since—not that she blamed him for that entirely. She’d never thought she’d see him again.
She considered sneaking away from the orientation, but Esme still had hold of her hand. Besides, the second Fraser’s thick, unmistakably Scottish accent filled the air with its sticky heat, her legs turned to jelly. God, she had loved this man. Just the sound of his voice brought it all rushing back.
‘Thank you so much, ladies and gents,’ he said with gravelly familiarity, towering over Dr Forster in spite of her own height, and sweeping a big hand through his mane of thick black hair.
Sara could picture his eyes too, up close, and the honest blue of them she’d been happy to swim in for hours. She swallowed as the deck seemed to close in on her.
‘I’m privileged to be able to join you on this special adventure. I know that for some of you this is the first time you’ll have been on a ship—am I right? Who’s never been on a ship before?’
To Sara’s surprise, Esme released her grip on her and raised her hand tentatively. Her throat dried up as Fraser’s eyes travelled to her daughter and then landed right on her. A tiny trail of perspiration began its descent down her lower back. She raised her hand at him slowly, in greeting. He did the same—like a Martian making contact with another planet. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips.
‘Well, it looks like we’re going to have some fun on this cruise,’ he said, after a pause.
Sara wasn’t entirely sure if he was still talking to Esme, or to her. She was picturing his lips now, too. The way they’d used to seem to melt against hers.
She hadn’t read the staff list. She kicked herself. She’d had every intention of running her eyes over it, along with the plethora of other information she’d been sent, but Esme had been in a panic over a missing shoe when it had arrived in her inbox and she’d been side-tracked.
‘Let me tell you: this weather is a tad nicer than it is in Edinburgh right now. I hope you won’t be too horrified if this pale white Scottish skin turns as red as a lobster’s!’
Esme giggled at Fraser’s words, as did most of the crowd. Sara just felt hot and bothered. She was back in that huge Scottish house now, standing stunned on the stairs, hearing his father tell Fraser what he really thought about their six-month relationship, hearing Fraser do nothing to defend it—or her. They hadn’t known she’d been listening.
Fraser was still talking, introducing the other staff—introducing her. ‘Please also welcome Sara Cohen, one of our excellent dialysis nurses.’
She tried not to flinch as everyone turned to her and applauded, while Esme leaned into her shyly, clutching her camera. Annoyance was quickly overriding shock.
How dared he rock up here, on her adventure, six years after he’d let her go? OK, so she’d chosen to end their relationship herself that night, after overhearing their little family conversation. But if she hadn’t done it Fraser would only have done it himself. She’d simply been saving him the bother and herself the heartbreak.
She hadn’t needed any more heartbreak back then. Her mother had just died and her father had completely fallen apart. She’d been exhausted from taking care of him, all whilst dealing with her own grief. She’d been at Fraser’s place for the weekend to cry in his arms, to let someone take care of her for a while. And then...
‘Now, I’m sure you’re all excited to get going and see what’s planned for you. I’ll hand you over to our events co-ordinator to tell you more.’
Fraser still had the audience enchanted.
‘I’m looking forward to getting to know some of you over the next few weeks—although, let’s be honest here, most people seem to have a better time on this ship if they never get to see me at all, if you know what I mean!’
Jess took Esme’s other hand. ‘Ready to meet the other kids?’ she asked her daughter cheerily.
Sara dropped a kiss on Esme’s cheek. Her heart was thudding as they walked away. A guy with a topknot called Tony was already on the stage, talking of tropical island walks and buffet lunches. And Fraser was heading straight through the crowd towards her.
She turned quickly towards the exit. She needed space to think. Maybe she and Esme could transfer ships. There was another one leaving in a few days’ time; perhaps they could switch and avoid this. It was the last thing she needed—dredging up her painful past in the middle of the ocean, with no escape.
‘Sara Cohen! Come on—don’t walk away from me, lass.’
Fraser’s voice was a powerful lasso, stopping her in her tracks. She closed her eyes as her hand found the smooth cool steel of the door handle. So surreal.
‘After all this time,’ he said, putting a big hand to her shoulder and causing goosebumps to flare on her hot skin. ‘Weren’t you even going to say hello?’
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