Janice Lynn - Surgeon Boss, Surprise Dad



Liz was going to have a baby.

His baby.

Liz, who was the most wonderful woman he’d ever met, who was the woman he loved, was going to have his baby.

Elation battled horror.

From the moment he’d been diagnosed with his Multiple Sclerosis he’d known he’d never have any children. How the hell could he have known he’d already fathered a baby?

How could he have a child when he’d only be condemning the child to a father with a disease that had the power to demand everything?

To have loved her, never wanting to hurt her, to keep from being a burden to her, he sure was doing a wrap job on Liz.

He’d told her he didn’t love her on the night she’d intended to tell him about their baby. In his mind he’d had a clear idea of what the right thing was—for him to set Liz free.

Her pregnancy changed everything.

She’d need him more than ever.

Oh, hell.

What had he done?

Janice Lynnhas a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career. To find out more about Janice and her writing, visit www.janicelynn.com

Recent titles by the same author:

THE DOCTOR’S MEANT-TO-BE MARRIAGE

THE HEART SURGEON’S SECRET SON

THE DOCTOR’S PREGNANCY BOMBSHELL

BY

JANICE LYNN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my fabulous editor Lucy Brown.

Thanks for all you do to make me a better writer.

CHAPTER ONE

ASHES to ashes. Dust to dust.

The preacher’s words blurred in Liz’s mind like a hazy cloud.

She couldn’t believe Gramps was really gone, that she’d never again look into those twinkling sky-blue eyes, never hear him call for his “Liza girl” or hear his laughter. Not ever. A tear slid down her cheek.

Not that there had been much laughter over the past two years. There hadn’t. Gramps’s congestive heart failure had seen to that. His condition had been worsened by dementia near the end and she’d never known if she’d see recognition in his eyes or not. But those occasional glimmers, those few lucid moments had kept her going.

As much as her heart ached that he was gone, as much as she’d miss him, relief also washed over her. Never had she begrudged caring for her grandfather. Goodness knew, he’d cared for her when no one else had. But working full time as a registered nurse and coming home to relieve the hired nurse each night wore on a person’s resolve, their sleep, their mental and emotional state. Still, she’d have done it endlessly if it had meant Gramps getting better.

Only he hadn’t, and she’d known that no matter how much she did, she’d only been delaying the inevitable. Each day she’d seen him slip further away from the vital man he’d once been. She’d watched him long for death and eventually let go to the disease that had claimed his life.

Thank goodness for Adam. Without him she’d never have stayed sane these past few months.

Dr Adam Cline had been by her side, understanding when she’d cut their dates short if Sara, Gramps’s hired nurse, had called, understanding why she hadn’t been able to stay the night at his place, understanding why their relationship could never progress. She’d promised Gramps she wouldn’t put him in a nursing home as long as she could care for him, and she hadn’t. Somehow between she and Adam they’d managed to keep him at home.

She’d never expected Adam to take on the care of her seriously ill grandfather, but in many ways Adam had. He’d been wonderful.

Was wonderful.

She glanced at the tall, dark-haired man sitting next to her on the hard wooden pew. His strong fingers held her trembling ones while the preacher continued his moving eulogy. Her heart pinched at the tenderness with which Adam’s thumb caressed her palm in gentle, comforting circles.

She squeezed his hand, hoping to convey how much it meant that he was at her grandfather’s funeral. He’d confessed long ago to an aversion to funerals. She’d assured him she’d be OK and understood. Yet here he was for her to lean on, albeit tight-faced, making sure she managed through what she considered to be the hardest thing she’d ever gone through.

Much harder than when her mother had left for whatever had appealed more than her young daughter. Much harder than several years back when she’d been notified the father she’d never known had died in a motor vehicle accident.

Losing Gramps was like losing a part of herself because he’d loved her, raised her, encouraged and nurtured her to be the woman she’d become. She’d loved him with her whole heart.

Now he was gone.

Time crawled as the funeral services concluded and the guests relocated to the graveside for a final farewell.

Weariness swept over Liz, tugging at her already exhausted body, but she kept her chin high and her shoulders straight as she paid her last respects to the grandfather she’d loved.

More tears pricked her eyes when she tossed the first handful of dirt onto the lowered casket. She turned, grateful to find Adam’s broad shoulders waiting for her. She buried her face. His arms went around her, holding her close.

“Shh, sweetheart, he’s in a better place.”

She remained in his arms long enough to pull herself together, then wiped at her eyes. “I know.”

Gramps was in a better place. Had to be. Those last few weeks he hadn’t known who she was, had only registered that he couldn’t breathe. He’d literally been drowning in his own body fluids, and no amount of diuretics had eased his suffering.

She sniffled, then received the line-up of graveside mourners. Gramps hadn’t been social for years and had outlived most of his friends from younger days so most in attendance were her coworkers and friends. Adam’s hand pressed into her lower back, providing the comfort she needed to accept each well-meant condolence, each heartfelt hug.

Her friend Kelly hovered close, keeping a watchful eye and offering her support repeatedly. A girl couldn’t ask for a better friend, but at the moment Liz just wanted to curl into a lonely ball and cry at the loss of her grandfather.

By the time Adam assisted her into his luxurious two-seater, she practically dropped onto the plush seat. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so drained mentally, emotionally, or physically, not even after pulling a double shift.

Now she’d go home to a house filled with reminders of Gramps, filled with a hospital bed in her living room because there hadn’t been room for his bed and equipment in either of the two tiny bedrooms. Plus, she’d liked him being able to look out the windows at the small flower garden she kept well tended even if it meant getting up at the crack of dawn to do so.

Gramps had loved roses, said they reminded him of her grandmother. Even after he’d forgotten most everything, he’d lie in his bed and stare at the blooms outside the window for hours. Liz was pretty sure better times had filled his thoughts, times when his body and mind had been strong, and he’d been happy.