Gold Coast Angels: Bundle of Trouble. Fiona LoweЧитать онлайн книгу.
floundering in the suffocating darkness that had become both enemy and friend. It had been her beloved brother Nick who’d hauled her unwilling teenage mind out of the black and treacherous morass and pushed her back into the light of life.
At the time it had hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced before or since and the battle not to let grief become a toxic legacy had been beyond hard, but she’d done it. Years later, when Jason had told her he wouldn’t marry her because she couldn’t give him a child, she’d teetered on the edge but she’d survived and learned. Today, she knew that even though her life now wasn’t anything like that she’d imagined for herself as a naïve sixteen-year-old, and neither was it the life she truly wanted, it was a life worth living and living well.
You could show him how to do it.
The thought clanged loudly in her head like the penetrating sound of a fire alarm and she wished she could put noise-cancelling headphones over her brain.
Yes, she was a nurse, a member of a caring profession, and, yes, she had the ability to recognise when someone needed help. Luke Stanley definitely fell into that category—he needed help big-time—but she was also a survivor. Helping a grieving man with a child would be more harmful to her than helpful to him and she wasn’t prepared to risk her hard-won stability.
No, it wasn’t her job to do the ‘hands-on’ helping stuff with Luke Stanley, but she’d talk to Keri and Kate. After all, they knew Luke a hell of a lot better than she did.
‘WANT BUNNY,’ Amber sobbed into Luke’s shoulder, her tears making a damp patch on his cotton shirt.
‘Hello, Amber, I’m Mr Clown,’ Luke said in a voice he thought might sound like a clown’s as he waggled the soft toy near his daughter’s face.
Amber’s hand knocked the clown sideways. ‘Want bunny!’
Luke’s head pounded with fury at himself and despair for Amber, which rumbled through him and reminded him he had so much to learn as a father. How had he forgotten to check that her beloved bunny had been in the backpack when he’d collected Amber from daycare?
Because you were thinking about Chloe Kefes.
His anger at himself was buried deep with sharp roots. How had he forgotten ever meeting her? Unlike most of his colleagues, he didn’t forget names and faces, especially when there was another connection, like her being Nick’s sister. But today he’d needed all her prompting to recall the iodine incident.
He hated that he’d forgotten as much as he hated the fact his mind kept repeating the way her plump lips curved into a smile. A generous, captivating smile, which dimpled her round cheeks and danced in her eyes. A smile that had faded under the onslaught of his bitter words—words generated by his own self-loathing and hurled out to land on the nearest target. It wasn’t Chloe’s fault that Amber was motherless and in full-time daycare. No, that responsibility lay solely at his feet.
Amber’s wails sounded even louder than before.
Damn it, he shouldn’t still be thinking about Chloe. What sort of a pathetic excuse for a father was he?
Poor Amber. She was rarely without her talisman bunny—her security blanket in her ever-changing world. Her one stable item in a confusing place, where her previously mostly at-home father was now absent during the day, and her aunt, uncle and cousins were unexpectedly gone too.
He’d telephoned the director of the daycare centre, who, although sympathetic to his plight, had not been prepared to make the twenty-minute drive to open the building to retrieve the bunny, no matter what Luke had offered. The doctor in him understood. The father with the hysterical child wasn’t quite so reasonable.
He lined up all Amber’s cuddly toys. ‘Look, honey, Teddy’s sad and needs a cuddle,’ he tried, desperate to turn the situation around.
Amber screamed.
Abandoning any attempts to try and settle her into her cot, Luke carried her outside to the deck. The slow and rhythmic roll of the waves hitting the sand boomed around them and the silver rays of moonlight beamed down through the streaks of cloud to sparkle on the Pacific Ocean. He lowered himself onto the sun lounger and settled Amber on his chest, his hand patting her sobbing and shuddering body and matching the beat to the tempo of the waves.
Oh, so very slowly, as the inky darkness cloaked them both, Amber’s frantic sobs turned into occasional, gulping hiccoughs until her breathing steadied and her body relaxed against his. Despair finally turned to sleep. He knew he should probably take her into her room and settle her into her cot, but after the last hour he didn’t dare move in case she woke up, remembered the missing bunny and was again faced with having to go through the same trauma.
He knew all about that. Even now, living in a different house, he still woke occasionally expecting to find Anna there, only to have the realisation she was gone dump all over him. Over and over. Anna was gone because he’d made a critical error that couldn’t be fixed. At least Amber was spared the memory of missing her mother, or at least he hoped she was. She’d only been six months old when Anna had died. Did she miss someone she couldn’t remember?
He pulled a beach towel off the chair next to him and covered both of them with it to ward off the slight chill of the night air. Amber may not have a mother, but she had a loving extended family who smothered her in love. Were aunts, uncles and cousins enough?
The image of clear and honest hazel eyes beamed into his brain and he instantly shut them out. He’d only ever had eyes for one woman, and even though Anna was gone he had no desire to look elsewhere. The idea was abhorrent to him. Closing his eyes, he found himself battling random images of dimples and long, glossy chestnut hair. Desperate, he focused on the sound of the sea and willed sleep to come.
The elevator doors closed and Callie Richards, neonatal specialist, wished she could turn off her pager and hide in the steel box for an hour. She knew it was just an idle dream, however, because the NICU was full of sickies and Nick Kefes, Gold Coast City’s beloved obstetrician, had just called her, flagging a possible case that might require her skills. She hoped Nick was being his usual overcautious self and that she might actually get home tonight to sleep in her own bed.
Who else’s bed would you sleep in? Certainly not arrogant Cade Coleman’s.
Shut up!
She hated how her conscience threw up unexpected reminders of her most stupid mistake to date—flirting outrageously with Cade Coleman. Just when she’d been convinced she’d successfully let go of the embarrassing memory, her brain did this to her. It made little sense because it wasn’t like he was the only man she’d ever had practise forgetting. Truth be told, he was just one in a long line of men—men she rarely gave a second thought after she’d picked up her shoes and tiptoed quietly out their doors, never to see them again.
Correction—thinking about Cade made no sense because she hadn’t even got to first base with him, thank God, let alone kissing and sex. But flirting with him had been a basic error—a rookie mistake she should be long past making.
Rule Number One: don’t hit on the men you work with. Prior to Cade, she’d held fast to that rule like superglue because it meant she never had to deal with coming face to face with her folly on a daily basis.
Mind you, the man didn’t seem perturbed by that fact so she shouldn’t be either and, damn it, she wasn’t. Just yesterday she’d given him a polite nod and not felt a moment’s regret. Well, not very much of a moment, anyway.
Emotionally stunted men like Cade are not worth thinking about. She repeated the mantra to herself.
The elevator pinged, the doors opened and she stepped out to see Chloe Kefes standing and staring through the large windows of the special care nursery. On the other side of the glass were the cots that were home to the premature babies who were now