A Baby to Care for (Mills & Boon Medical) (6 page)

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Authors: Lucy Clark

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Medical, #General

BOOK: A Baby to Care for (Mills & Boon Medical)
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‘I’m really pleased about that. I’ve never seen Lis so happy. She has a man who really loves her and the brother she’s always wanted. I’m glad you agreed to meet her.’

‘I am, too.’ His words were spoken slowly and softly as though he’d given them a lot of thought, or was it that he’d given Melissa a lot of thought? Iris knew things hadn’t been too rosy when Melissa had first arrived in Didja but now everything really was coming up roses…or whatever they grew out here. ‘She is sort of wonderful.’

Iris slowly shook her head.

‘What?’ he prompted when she didn’t say anything.

‘You.’

‘What about me?’

‘Tonight…I don’t know, you’re just…’

‘Charming? Gallant? Incredibly witty?’

‘I was going to say you’re breaking the stereotypes I had assigned to you.’

‘Ah…haven’t you ever heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover?’

‘Yes. I’ve also heard that a leopard doesn’t change its spots.’

Dex chuckled. ‘I’ve heard that too.’ He walked towards the door, sliding it open, trying not to wince as his trapezius muscles made themselves known yet again.

‘Put a heat pack on it.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Your muscles.’

‘Oh.’ He looked sheepish. ‘I thought you hadn’t seen the wince.’

Iris nodded. ‘I did. I’m guessing you’re not as macho as you make out, either.’

Dex stepped outside. ‘I’m a lonely, wimpy little boy on the inside,’ he said, and Iris was surprised at the seriousness evident both on his face and in his words.

‘And on the outside?’

‘I’m a rugged superhero.’ He flexed his arms, his biceps rippling very nicely beneath his T-shirt. A second later he dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders, massaging one of them with his hand. ‘Seriously, though, I wear a mask. Just like everyone else. Even you.’

Iris wasn’t sure what to say to that so she said nothing.

‘See you tomorrow, Dr Tennant,’ he continued. ‘Sleep sweet.’ And with that he disappeared into the night.

*

Iris was up bright and early the next morning, mainly because she’d found it difficult to sleep. To know that Dex’s apartment backed onto hers, to know that he was on the other side of the wall was something of which she was acutely aware.

During the week she’d spent in Didja, she’d occasionally heard noises coming from his apartment but after last night, after she’d seen a completely different side to Dexter Crawford—a side she most definitely liked—she’d actually found herself listening.

Last night, he’d not only shown her compassion, he’d shown her he had far more depth than she’d credited him with. Dex had held her in his arms, had been supportive rather than inquisitive. As she’d lain in her bed, the ceiling fan whirring above, she’d replayed the entire conversation, the entire scene in her head and it was only then she had realised
her own mistake. Embarrassment had swamped her as she’d remembered Dex mentioning her scars.

‘He was speaking metaphorically, you twit,’ she told her reflection as she dried her hair. She turned the hairdryer off and brushed the long locks back so she could plait it and keep it out of the way. ‘He didn’t know about your physical scars.’ She glanced at her upper arms as she spoke, the stretched, distorted skin mocking her.

Now Dex knew. He knew she was scarred. He’d felt the unevenness on her back and he’d been repulsed by what he’d inadvertently touched. She didn’t blame him. She was repulsed herself. Iris flicked the completed plait down her back and stood straight, looking at herself. The white bra with tiny pink flowers was a complete contrast against the scars on her upper torso. One was pretty, the other was ugly.

She turned sideways to look at the marks on her back. The skin was worse here, more raised, more prominent if someone were to touch them. Someone like Dex. Iris raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes, unable to look any more. She knew the contour of every mark, she felt the emotional pain and anguish every time she looked at them.

They were a constant reminder of how she’d failed to save her husband’s life. The cruel twist of fate that had allowed her to live whilst Tim had suffered and died. She’d been there. She’d watched him die and there had been nothing she could do. The firefighters had smothered the flames that had caught her clothing, they’d wrapped her up and carried her out. Her last conscious sight had been that of Tim, lying there, surrounded by fire and thick smoke…dead.

Sniffing, she raised her head and forced herself to concentrate on taking deep breaths. She was due at the clinic in ten minutes and she needed to pull herself together. Work was wonderful. Work helped and at least today she wouldn’t be having to avoid Dex all the time. It was Saturday. She was the
doctor on call and he was off…somewhere, no doubt with a string of pretty bimbos following him as though he were the Pied Piper.

Ignoring her scars by not looking at them, by pretending they weren’t there, Iris blew her nose and then finished dressing. After a quick cup of tea and a piece of toast, she headed to the little hospital.

‘Good morning, Iris,’ Bub said as Iris walked into the room. ‘Here to do a quick ward round?’

Iris scanned the ten beds. Three had patients in them. ‘A
very
short round by the looks of it.’

Bub waved away her words. ‘Oh, we may be small in numbers but we’re big on the need to chat.’ The experienced nursing sister leaned closer and said in a stage whisper, ‘Just don’t let Mr Bloffwith get started on his new irrigation system. He’ll have you there for hours.’

‘Right. Good. Thanks for the tip.’ Iris looked around, feeling a little bereft. She was used to conducting ward rounds with at least twenty other people. Surgeons, registrars, interns, medical students, nursing staff, dieticians, physiotherapists. She was also used to having far more than three patients to contend with. Still, as Bub conducted her to each bed, it was done in a highly professional manner. Things may be more relaxed out here but they were certainly efficient.

Once the ward round was completed—and Mr Bloffwith’s new irrigation system chatter neatly diverted—Iris thanked Bub before making her way to the clinic. As it was her first weekend on call, Joss had come over to open everything up and to make sure she knew what was going on.

‘Areva, our incredible receptionist, doesn’t work Saturdays. So it’s just you and the patients. We work the weekends on a first come, first served basis so you’ll find that some people will get here as early as possible and sometimes they’re even
waiting outside the doors when you open them.’ He indicated the empty waiting room. ‘Thankfully, today that isn’t the case.’

Iris nodded. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine, Joss.’

‘I’m sure you will, too. Lis speaks very highly of you and I have to say that during the past week, I’ve been incredibly impressed.’

‘Thank you.’ Iris was pleased to hear such a glowing report from her new boss. ‘Now, why don’t you go and find your fiancée and spend some time with her?’

Joss grinned widely and Iris could see just why Melissa had been attracted to the handsome general surgeon. ‘What a brilliant idea. I think I’ll go and do exactly what the doctor’s ordered.’ He took a few steps away before turning back. ‘Oh, and if you need any help, if emergencies come in, contact Bub and she’ll get one of us here to help assist you.’

‘Right. Will do. Now go. Have fun.’

Joss grinned widely and nodded before almost sprinting from the clinic. Iris was left alone within seconds and she walked to the front door of the clinic, checking outside to ensure there really wasn’t anyone waiting.

With no patients to see, she decided to switch the kettle on and then make sure her consulting room was set up and ready to go. She did this. Still no patients. She made herself a cup of tea and drank it—slowly. Still no patients. Was it usually like this? What was the point in having a weekend clinic if no one was going to come?

She sat in the waiting room…and waited, scanning a few of the magazines, flipping through others and not reading a word. She checked outside the door again, looking up and down the street. A few people waved but no one came in. Iris returned to her consulting room, unable to believe that for the first time in…well, she couldn’t remember when, she was actually bored.

Sighing, she allowed her thoughts to wander and oddly
enough they turned immediately to her handsome single colleague. She wondered what Dex was really doing today. What did most of the townsfolk do on a weekend when there was no Australia Day fair, when there were no fundraisers to attend? Surely they’d have sports out here. They’d have to or else the lot of them would go completely barmy.

Did Dex play Australian Rules football? Or did he prefer cricket? Maybe soccer was his game. He obviously did something athletic because when she’d been held tightly in his arms the previous evening, she’d noted the firmness of those muscles as he’d held her close. His chest had also been nice and taut beneath his T-shirt and she doubted there was an ounce of flab on him. Pure, solid muscle…and what delicious-looking muscle it was.

She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to really feel it. To run her fingertips over his biceps, to caress the solid six-pack of his abdomen, the broadness of his shoulders. She also wanted to plunge her fingers into his dark, unruly hair, to feel the texture between her finger and thumb. He had the most alluring voice, his tones rich and deep. His brown eyes, so incredibly expressive. And his mouth…

Oh, yes. Dex Crawford really was one in a million and she could quite easily drown simply by looking at him. Iris’s eyelids fluttered closed as she pictured him, so clearly. She sighed, long and slowly, as she leaned back in her chair.

‘Something I can help you with?’ Deep, husky, masculine tones washed over her.

Iris sat bolt upright in her chair, her eyelids snapping open instantly. Dex was standing in her doorway—lounging in her doorway—and the look on his face said that he was more than willing to offer her his services for…whatever she’d been thinking about!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘D
EX
!’

‘Iris.’

‘What are you…?’ She couldn’t believe how fast her heart was pounding in her chest, how breathless she felt and how she was so glad she was sitting down as she felt her body begin to tremble. She’d been sitting there, thinking about the man who was now before her, and she’d been thinking such tantalising things, she was sure she was also blushing.

‘Doing here?’ He shrugged and sauntered into the room. ‘Just thought I’d stop by and see if you needed any help.’

‘Uh…No, thanks, because, as you can see, all is quiet on the western front.’

He smiled at her words as he sat down opposite her. She wished he wouldn’t. She wished he’d up and leave, go as far away from the clinic as he could in order to give her peace of mind and a lot more breathing space than currently existed between them. She also wished he wouldn’t smile at her like that! Didn’t the man have any idea just how irresistible he was?

Of course he did. That was why he was here. He needed her to fall for him just like all the other women in the town. He needed to know she’d be definitely joining the line if there was another kissing booth in the future. He had an ego the size of Uluru and she’d do well to remember it.

She
had
to remember it because if she started thinking about the man she’d been with last night, the man who had offered compassion and comfort, the man who had been anything but a playboy, then she’d start to give in to the feelings he still managed to evoke just by being this close to her.

‘You don’t need to be here.’ Her words were a little more brisk than she’d intended. ‘It’s your day off, Dex. I’m sure you have better things to do than to hang around this place.’

‘Maybe I like
this place.

Iris raised her eyebrows at that. ‘Well, there’s nothing going on clinic-wise. It’s as dead as a dodo.’

Dex looked at her thoughtfully for a moment then clapped his hands together and rubbed them with mock excitement. ‘A quiet western front and dead dodos. This place is sounding more interesting than the pub on a Friday night.’ And Iris Tennant was a woman who was somehow continuing to interest him.

Last night, ensconced safely back in his own apartment, a heat pack on his shoulders, Dex had reflected on what he’d learned about his new colleague. A widow. Fire. Scarred body. If that wasn’t some serious baggage she was carrying around, he didn’t know what was. She may be stunning, she may have a sharp and intelligent mind, but he knew it wasn’t his job to help her work through that baggage.

After Catherine, Dex had firmly decided he wasn’t capable of having a fully involved, adult relationship. He’d messed up badly all those years ago, and that was the reason why he’d adopted the type of lifestyle that avoided emotional commitment. Serious romantic relationships would only lead to pain and heartbreak and it was a road he wasn’t prepared to travel again.

Iris, however,
had
travelled that road. She’d met a man, married him and then suffered a great tragedy. It was clear she was still grieving for her husband and as such, Dex could see that her own dreams would remain, largely, unfulfilled. No.
He wasn’t the person to help her through this. Whilst he was positive the community of Didja would help heal Iris,
he
wasn’t the man for the job. She was a colleague. He would be helpful, friendly but that was all.

At least, that was the vow he’d made last night and so why he’d felt compelled to come to the clinic this morning to see how she was getting on was as much of a surprise to him as it had apparently been to her. What was it about the woman sitting opposite him that continually drew him in? He wished he knew because perhaps if he could put his finger on it, he’d be able to do something more proactive to lessen its effects.

In fact, he should do as she’d suggested and leave her to do her job. He should get up. Mumble something about just making sure she was all settled in and then leave. Being around Iris only made him want to know more, to breathe in that scent of hers, which was filled with sweetness and light, to watch as her emerald eyes sparked with annoyance as they were doing now. She wanted him gone. He shouldn’t argue with that.

Still, he didn’t move.

‘So…is there something you needed? Wanted? Anything I can help you with?’ Iris decided the direct approach was her only hope to get him gone.

Dex’s mouth twitched with amusement at her words. ‘Now, there are three very loaded questions. Is there something I need?’ As his rich brown gaze skimmed over her upper torso, Iris tried not to gasp at the visual caress, her heart rate, which had only just started to return to normal, picking up pace again. ‘Is there something I want?’ His gaze focused on her mouth and her traitorous lips parted with quivering anticipation.

Dex leaned forward so his elbows were on the desk, his gaze now flicking between her eyes and her lips. ‘Is there anything
you
can help me with?’ The words were soft, husky and exceedingly intimate. ‘Oh, Iris.’ Her name was like a whispered caress on his lips. ‘I do believe there is.’

Iris swallowed. Once. Twice. Still she seemed to be incapable of speech. Third time lucky. She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to speak. ‘And what might that be?’ Her eyes widened imperceptibly as she heard her own voice. Why had those words come out sounding like a husky invitation for him to join her in an early morning tryst?

Silence reigned between them, their bodies appearing to have a completely different conversation to the one being spoken aloud. Finally, Dex spoke.

‘Dinner. Tonight. Stiggie’s.’

It took but a moment for his words to penetrate the haze he’d created around them. Was he asking her out? Was he demanding she go with him? To dinner? As in a date?

These thoughts helped Iris to snap out of the bubble she’d been in as her temper began to rise. Dex was a player. She had to keep remembering that. Add to that fact that he no doubt felt sorry for her now that he’d discovered her traumatic past. He’d asked her out to dinner last weekend without knowing anything about her and now that he knew far more than she’d planned on revealing, it was nothing more than a pity invite. A sour taste rose in her mouth but she ignored it. What did it matter that she found this man attractive? Nothing, because she knew, deep down in her heart, that he would never find her so.

Without moving and still holding his gaze, she said quietly but firmly, ‘No.’

Dex didn’t seem to be offended. He leaned back, though, putting some much-needed distance between them. He crossed his legs, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, his whole attitude displaying nonchalance. ‘Why not?’

‘Why?’ she countered.

‘I told you last week at the fair that we’d go to Stiggie’s on Saturday night and sample the food in his restaurant.’

‘That’s right. You
told
me. You never asked me, Dex. In fact, you still haven’t asked me.’

‘All right.’ He sat up straighter, squared his shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes. She wished he hadn’t because it was his eyes that made her want to forget everything and to completely throw caution to the wind.

‘Iris, would you like to go with me to Stiggie’s tonight to sample the delicious food at his restaurant?’

Iris smiled politely at him. ‘Well, Dex. What a sweet offer and how nice of you to ask. Unfortunately, if I’d known sooner, I wouldn’t have made other plans.’

‘Plans?’ His frown was real and it was clear Dex wasn’t used to being turned down. Iris was pleased with herself. Other women in this community may not have willpower when it came to their leading bachelor boy, but she certainly did. ‘What plans?’

‘That, Dr Crawford,’ Iris said, standing as she heard the sound of someone actually coming in the front door of the clinic, ‘is none of your business.’

With that, she walked straight past him, out of her consulting room towards the waiting room. Dex leaned back in the chair and shook his head. What was that all about? He had thought Iris would be happy to go out to dinner, to meet some of the community at Stiggie’s. Sure, Saturday night was like ‘date night’ in this town but that didn’t have to mean a thing. They were colleagues. He hoped they could become friends. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her last night.

She’d obviously had such terrible things happen to her, had gone through so much, was no doubt still dealing with a lot of the emotional fallout from such trauma, but she was here, she was dealing with it, she was being strong. Even though he kept telling himself that Iris Tennant wasn’t his type, he couldn’t help but want to be around her.

Deciding to come and help her in the clinic had been a strictly professional decision. He was helping his new colleague
settle in. What he hadn’t expected was to find the clinic empty and the woman who had plagued his dreams last night sitting in her chair, relaxed and happy, a smile on her face as she’d sighed with utter longing.

Had she been thinking about her husband?

He swallowed at the thought, wondering at the sudden stirring of jealousy within his gut. No. Ridiculous. He couldn’t be jealous. He didn’t do jealousy. He held himself aloof from those sorts of emotions. He immediately pushed the thought away, telling himself sternly that Iris was only in Didja for six months. She was a colleague. His relationship with her should be one of pure professionalism and mild friendship. Nothing more. Really, fighting his attraction to her should be the least of his problems.

‘Dex!’

Iris’s shout from the waiting room was tinged with urgency. He was on his feet in a split second and bolted to the waiting room. It was only then he realised the noise level surrounding them. ‘Something I can help you with?’

Those were the same words he’d said to her before but this time they held a completely different connotation. She was pleased he was calm, that although she could see his eyes taking in the entire situation, he still outwardly remained calm.

‘Sorry to yell. Didn’t mean to startle you.’ Iris glanced at him as she took a five-year-old boy from his mother. The child was screaming so loudly she thought her eardrums might burst. ‘Thought you might not have heard me otherwise.’

‘Oh, I heard,’ he remarked as he looked at the father, who was coming into the clinic holding another screaming child. ‘Smitty?’ Dex directed his comments to the father. ‘What on earth’s been happening at your place?’

Smitty shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.’ He smiled, his white teeth shining out against his dark skin.

‘Try,’ Dex encouraged as he followed Iris, who was heading towards her consulting room. ‘Maybe we should take
them both straight to the hospital. Give us more room to move,’ he suggested. He wasn’t sure how Iris would take his suggestion. After all, officially she was the one in charge. Would she ignore him, tell him to mind his own business, or would she listen?

‘Makes sense.’ She veered off, the five-year-old still wailing like a banshee at the top of his lungs. ‘I still have no idea what’s happened.’ She looked to Smitty for an answer and the man shook his head as they rounded the corner into the hospital section at the rear.

‘Dumb really. Diamond—’ he pointed to the child Iris was holding ‘—was playing with his pet goanna out in the back yard when Trapper—” Smitty indicated the squirming six-year-old in Dex’s arms ‘—yeah, well, Trapper decided to not be very nice and hit Goofy with a stick.’

‘Goofy?’ Iris was confused.

‘The goanna,’ Dex said matter-of-factly.

‘Oh.’ Iris placed Diamond on a bed, not surprised to see Bub appearing beside them. The other patients currently in the hospital would be rather put out by the noise but Dex had been right in suggesting they bring both boys here rather than trying to deal with them in the consulting rooms.

‘Goofy got mad.’

‘Rightly so,’ Dex agreed.

‘Yeah, but Goofy upset Trapper’s spider cage,’ Smitty continued.

‘One of them was bitten by a spider?’ Iris started to check for marks on Diamond’s arms. Why was Smitty being so calm and telling a yarn when his son could be dying? The little boy’s mother was standing quietly to the side, her eyes wide as she looked on from a distance.

‘Ah…she don’t do well in hospitals,’ Smitty said, obviously following the line of Iris’s gaze. ‘Anyway, the spiders got onto Trapper.’

‘Trapper was bitten? By what sort of spider?’ Dex was looking for marks but the kid was squirming too much. ‘We need to keep him still. If there’s poison in his blood, moving around is the last thing we need him to do. Mate, can you lie still for me, please?’

‘Nah, he didn’t get bitten.’

‘Then what happened?’ Iris was starting to get rather impatient, wishing the father would just spit out the exact circumstances that had led them to bring their two boys here to be treated.

‘Has anyone been bitten?’ Dex tried, keeping his cool. He didn’t blame Iris for feeling impatient. He was beginning to get there himself.

‘Yes. Diamond.’

‘By what?’ Bub was the one who asked the question as she headed to the cabinet where the different types of antivenene were kept.

‘Brown snake.’

‘Where?’ But even as she said the word, Iris found the two little puncture wounds on the inside of the boy’s right foot. ‘Found it.’

‘When did all of this happen?’ Dex asked.

‘About ten minutes ago. We just scooped up the boys and brought them straight here. Seemed the best thing to do.’

‘And Trapper?’ Dex was slowly getting the boy to calm down as he glanced over to watch Iris dealing with Diamond. At least the five-year-old wasn’t thrashing about like his brother.

‘The spiders crawled all over him. He doesn’t like it. They’re all harmless ones, none are poisonous, Doc Dex, I swear, but Trap still doesn’t like the sensation.’

‘I don’t blame him. It’s all right, mate. They’re all gone.’ Dex tried to soothe the six-year-old.

‘I did get bitten. I did,’ Trapper returned with vehemence.

‘Where? Whereabouts?’ Dex asked, his tone calm. ‘Show me?’ The sooner the boy was more in control, the sooner they’d really be able to help him.

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