Playboy Doctor to Doting Dad. Sue MacKay
that since the day when Morag, his sister, had tripped and broken her ankle during a student party in his flat. She’d wrecked her chances at the European ski championships. In a blind fury their father had unfairly laid the blame firmly at Kieran’s feet, telling him he was incapable of thinking of anyone except himself.
A fact his father had taken great delight in rubbing in again when Kieran’s girlfriend at the time had miscarried. Kieran had been working late and hadn’t had his cellphone switched on. His girlfriend had accused him of not being there when she’d needed him most. His father had added his taunt, saying that surely Kieran had finally learned his lesson and accepted he shouldn’t get involved with anyone who would depend on him to look out for them.
Oh, he’d learned his lesson all right. He’d made a lifetime commitment to it. And nothing one little boy could do would change his mind.
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kieran tried to focus on something brighter, less distressing. Abigail. Again. Funny how she popped straight into his mind. It had never once occurred to him that she’d be working in the same department he was going to. What if she insisted on being overly friendly at work? Worse, what if everyone already knew he was the father of her child? He cringed. That would put him on the back foot straight away. He was the head of the department, albeit temporarily, and fraternising with the staff was not good for staff relations.
Too late, boyo. The fraternising has been done, can’t be undone. Abigail has a child, your child. A boy named Seamus.
He would do his damnedest to keep that information under wraps. If he wasn’t already too late.
‘I’d better not be,’ he muttered.
All his muscles tightened. As they had done a thousand times on this trip whenever he thought about the situation. He still couldn’t believe he was a father.
Was that because he didn’t want to believe it?
He’d always taken care to avoid an accident of this kind. That’s why he bought condoms by the ton. But he knew the boy was his. He knew Abigail wasn’t one of those women who went from one man’s bed to the next without a care. Neither would she use something like pregnancy to snag a man into marriage. If that had been her intention, she wouldn’t have kept Seamus’s arrival a secret from him. No, Abigail was honesty personified.
Discomfort made him squirm as he remembered that night in Dublin two years ago. Both of them had been totally smothered in grief after the joint funeral of his sister and Abigail’s brother. They’d turned to each other for comfort, and for a few hours had forgotten everything as they’d discovered each other. He knew her all right. Intimately.
The plane shuddered. So did Kieran. His tense fingers ached, bent like claws. He squeezed his eyes tight. God, he hated flying. Think of something else, anything else. Abigail again. Wrong focus. But her image burned his eyeballs. As it had at unexpected moments ever since they’d made love.
‘Did I hear an Irish accent?’ Beside him the metal hook flicked in and out of the cotton. ‘What brings you out here?’
A hurricane of waist-length dark blonde hair, and long arms and legs. A quirky smile that challenged him, and piercing hazel eyes that devoured him. Abigail.
No. He hadn’t endured this agony to see her. ‘I’m working at the local hospital. I also have a three-year-old niece living here.’ And your son. What about him? If he mentioned Seamus then he was acknowledging the boy was a part of him. I’m not ready for that.
‘They’re a bundle of fun and tricks at that age. My grandson is into gardening at the moment, much to his mother’s consternation, digging being his favourite occupation.’
‘I can see how that could be a problem.’ What did Olivia enjoy doing? Damn it, who does Olivia look like? His sister? Or David? How tall was she? He didn’t know anything about her.
Appalled, he leaned his head back and stared at the moulded-plastic ceiling. He’d barely acknowledged any correspondence from Abigail about Olivia. He had behaved dreadfully, deliberately keeping out of touch. Arranging a regular money transfer from Dublin for Abigail to use for Olivia had been easy, and had salved his conscience whenever he’d thought there might be something he should be doing for his niece. No wonder Abigail hadn’t contacted him about Seamus. She must have a very low opinion of him. Would she be waiting at the airport with a bat to bludgeon him over the head so she could drag him home to see the children? He forced his fingers straight, loose. Expanded his lungs. He couldn’t blame her if she did.
Beside him the lady asked, ‘So, your niece, is she a Kiwi?’
‘Yes, she is, but she’s Irish as well. My sister married a doctor from here, a friend of mine.’ Best friend he’d ever had. ‘They were killed in a car accident in Dublin a couple of years ago.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’ The woman glanced at him. ‘So the little girl has come over here to live with her father’s family?’
‘It seemed the best place for her, surrounded with lots of aunts and her grandfather. There’s only me available on her mother’s side and I live in the middle of Dublin. Not at all suitable for a small child.’ Not at all suitable for him. Thankfully, David and Morag had it written into their wills that if anything should ever happen to them, he and Abigail would be Olivia’s guardians, and she’d live with Abigail unless there was a very good reason why not. Which, of course, there wasn’t. Abigail was very caring; perfect for a small, bewildered child who’d just lost her parents.
His companion nodded at the window. ‘There’s Nelson City. We’ll be on the ground in a minute or two so you can relax now.’
‘You aren’t by any chance a psychologist?’ he asked her.
‘Just a canny old lady.’
‘What are you doing in early February? I could do with you distracting me again when I head home.’
‘I’m sure you could find a young lady to do that.’
That was absolutely the last thing he wanted. Or needed. He had a very comfortable lifestyle back in Dublin, one that didn’t allow for anyone else interfering with his comings and goings. He’d created a perfect life that didn’t involve … anyone. Especially not a family. Not with his appalling credentials. Not even Olivia and Seamus could change his belief on that.
Seamus, a good Irish name. A clever move on Abigail’s part? Or a name she liked more than any other? What did it matter what she’d called the lad? His jaw tightened some more. It shouldn’t, but the fact that she’d had his child and not mentioned it right up until he was days from leaving Dublin galled. Which wasn’t being fair to her. He knew he had a lot to make up to her for. But did he want to? It would mean getting to know the children, getting close to them. He shivered at the thought.
The plane’s wheels thumped onto the tarmac. On the ground again. The end of his journey at last. Something unfurled in the pit of his stomach. The knot caused by his fear of flying? No, this felt different. Like … excitement. No way. Did he even know what it felt like to be really excited? Abigail’s face floated into his mind, and the truth exploded through him. These feelings were all about her. The woman he’d never quite vanquished from his mind, from his body. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, laugh with her.
Reason enough to stay aboard the plane and fly back the way he’d come.
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY’S gaze was pulled to the plate-glass windows looking out over the tarmac and the disembarked passengers walking towards the terminal. Her nails dug painfully into her palms. One man towered above the rest of the passengers. Raven hair shining in the sun. A winning smile on a handsome face. He’d be exhausted after his long flight, but she’d never have guessed it from the way he carried himself. Shoulders back, legs swinging with confidence. As he came through the security door his gaze swept the terminal, searching. Then those twinkling eyes met hers and she saw the wariness in them.