‘I should go and see Izzy’s mum. Bring her up to date.’
‘Don’t worry. Sol’s with her.’
She tried to skirt past Malachi without looking pointed.
Not because she didn’t want to touch him. More because if she did she was certain she would self-combust. Her mouth was insanely dry. Her body throbbed mercilessly. It was all she could do to keep her brain functioning.
‘The little girl is my patient.’
‘And Sol saw her, too,’ he countered.
‘I’m perfectly aware that your brother is a doctor. One of the top neurosurgeons in this place, in fact. But he isn’t my patient’s doctor now. I am. And, as such, I should be the one to talk to her mother.’
Saskia only realised she’d drifted forward when her hands made contact with his unforgettable granite chest.
She leapt back like a scalded cat, and fought valiantly to drag her mind back to the present.
They’d had a gloriously wild, wanton time together, but she couldn’t afford to rehash it in her mind. She had no claim on Malachi Gunn, and she still hadn’t even told him her life-changing news.
And could she really drop her pregnancy bombshell on him? He had a right to know—but would he prefer not to? Her mind was spinning, and it didn’t help that he was still standing there, scrutinising her.
‘I really should go,’ she said.
‘I’d rather you rested a little more.’ He frowned, looking irritated.
She shifted from one foot to the other, reaching out to place her hand on the door handle. But she didn’t open the door and she didn’t walk out. Instead she shuffled some more and wrinkled her nose.
‘I’m fine.’
He didn’t look impressed.
‘Have you eaten?’
‘I’m fine , Malachi,’ she repeated, more firmly this time.
He lifted his arm past her, holding the door closed with his hand, and for a moment she thought he was going to say something else. Then, without warning, he dropped his arm.
She told herself she wasn’t disappointed, yet it was all she could do to tug at the handle and make herself walk through the door, overcompensating a little by hustling fast to the unit where Izzy was being treated.
With every step she was conscious of the fact that Malachi was following her. It was all too easy to imagine his long, effortless stride as she schooled herself not to sashay her hips or appear in any way as though she was being provocative. No mean feat when her whole body was so hyper-aware of him, her belly clenching. If the baby had given a good, strong kick in response to Malachi’s presence she doubted she would have been surprised, even though logically she knew it was far too soon for that.
It was as though the man was somehow imprinted on her. On both of them. She’d be glad when this moment was over and she could get away from him and back to her patients.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The truth was that she wasn’t entirely convinced she was buying it.
WAS SASKIA PREGNANT ?
Malachi sat on one of the plastic seats in the hospital corridor. Saskia was still in the room, telling Michelle about her daughter, and he was out here...uncharacteristically rattled.
His brain fought to focus; his body felt supercharged. He rolled the idea around his head as if testing it, seeing if it might fit.
Pregnant?
The problem was that he couldn’t be sure. Certainly he thought that was the last thing she’d said to that godawful nurse with the irritating voice, but then he hadn’t been thinking straight from the moment he’d stepped around that corner and caught sight of Saskia—the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last three months.
The blood roared through Malachi’s ears.
And elsewhere, if he was being honest.
When he’d heard her mutter— thought he’d heard her mutter—that word pregnant as he’d approached, he hadn’t really thought a lot about it. After all, she might have been talking about any one of her patients. Or colleagues. But then they’d sat in that on-call room together and she’d been so... odd ...that slowly things had started slotting themselves into different places and suddenly he’d found himself wondering if she’d actually been talking about herself.
In that moment everything had... shifted. Kids. Family. Two things he’d thought could never be in his future. Two things he’d sworn never would be in his future. Not after the childhood he and Sol had endured. Not after becoming responsible and providing for his drug-addled mother and kid brother when he’d been a mere ten years old. He’d endured enough responsibility and commitment to last a lifetime, and he’d sworn to himself he would never put himself through any more as an adult.
Nor would he put any kid through the trauma of having someone as detached and emotionally damaged as he was for a father.
Instead he had dedicated himself to his work, his business, his charity. Partly because he lived for those things, but also because it ensured he’d never have time in his life for anything—or anyone—else.
And now this.
Maybe.
Possibly not.
Yet some sixth sense—the one he had trusted his entire life, the one which had allowed his eight-year-old self to keep his brother and mother together and a roof over their heads, the one which had helped him make his first six-figure sum by the age of fifteen, his first million by the age of eighteen, the one which had ensured he could send his brother to medical school and make MIG International a global business—told him it was true.
No wonder his entire world was teetering so precariously on the edge of some black abyss.
How was it that in the blink of an eye everything he’d worked for could suddenly be hovering over some unknown precipice? Everything that made him... him gone in one word.
Pregnant.
His body went cold. His brain fought to process this new information and make some kind of sense out of it. But the only thing it could come up with was that any baby couldn’t be his. They’d used protection.
He always used protection.
Except that first time , when all his usual rules had splintered and shattered one by one. Not least any thought to the notion of protection.
Which meant that he had no one else to blame for the fact that a baby wasn’t wholly out of the question.
So how the hell was any kid to cope with him as a father?
Malachi’s mind hurtled along like a car with no brakes. He was usually controlled, intuitive—effective when it came to dealing with business problems put in front of him—but right now he felt as if the ground beneath his feet was opening up. Instead of focusing on the issue all he could picture was her lush naked body, spread out before him like some kind of personal offering. He could still practically feel the heat from her mouth, as wild as it was sweet.
He couldn’t say she’d been experienced, or skilled, and yet he’d never replayed sex with any other woman the way he’d replayed those nights with Saskia.
Why?
Maybe because he’d been lusting after her from the moment she’d walked into Care to Play as a medical liaison volunteer a few months earlier. Somehow during the so-called interview she’d ended up telling him about her failed engagement and her cheating fiancé, and she’d been so refreshingly open with him that he’d found himself captivated, wondering what kind of an idiot man would let a woman like Saskia slip through his fingers.
He’d had no intention of acting on the attraction, of course. Even as it had sizzled between them for months he’d been determined not to go there. Firstly, she was bound to be rebounding, and secondly she was a volunteer at the centre that he’d set up, and he’d told himself that was tantamount to making him her boss.
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