From Doctor To Daddy. Becky Wicks

       PROLOGUE

      FRASER STOPPED TO rest his arms on the ledge at the top of Edinburgh Castle. Brick houses, trees, and in the distance sparkling water shone like a painting under a clear blue sky. He inhaled a lungful of fresh Scottish air. The city was so damn beautiful when the sun shone.

      The surgery was crazy, as usual, and he’d taken a morning walk to prep himself, but someone needed him already. He could tell by the vibrations in his pocket.

      He pulled out his phone, turning his face to the rare sun. ‘Hi, Anton.’

      ‘Fraser, good morning. I came across a file that might be of interest for the Ocean Dream, if you’re still looking for a dialysis nurse.’

      ‘I am.’ Fraser smiled at two kids running around a cannon, pretending to shoot each other.

      He couldn’t really remember which positions had been filled and which hadn’t—he’d been so busy. In truth, he hadn’t had time to think much about working on the cruise ship at all this year. That was why he’d put Anton in charge of recruiting the medical team.

      ‘I’ve found a great dialysis nurse in London who fits the bill. But—get this. She also has a five-year-old daughter who’s on the kidney donor list. Rare blood type. The kid’s never been on a ship before, so naturally I thought...’

      ‘Sounds great.’ Fraser held the phone closer as the kids ran shrieking around him. He really needed all this in an email, otherwise he’d forget, but he asked anyway. ‘What’s the nurse’s name?’ He started walking across the court towards the gate.

      ‘Her name is Sara...’

      Anton paused, obviously to look at something.

      ‘Sara Cohen—and her kid’s name is Esme.’

      Fraser stopped abruptly and gripped the phone tight in his hand. A tourist almost walked into the back of him.

      ‘Sara Cohen?’ The name brought a thin sheen of sweat to his forehead. The cool breeze blew over it, giving him goose bumps. How long had it been since he’d heard that name? Six years? After a while he’d stopped counting.

      He mouthed an apology to the lady he’d stopped in front of. Her eyes swept his tall frame, in jeans, a fitted shirt and blazer, and she blushed.

      He stepped aside. ‘Anton, when is the cruise, exactly—remind me?’

      ‘A month from today,’ Anton said. ‘Her daughter is pretty pumped for it, as you can imagine. Sara’s just waiting on the go-ahead from St Gilda’s, where she works, but between you and me I think we’ve found our fit.’

      Fraser’s head was still reeling. Sara Cohen had a five-year-old daughter? Maybe it was a different Sara Cohen. ‘What’s her background?

      He forced his legs to continue down the hill, through the crowds of tourists, past the bagpipe player in his kilt at the bottom.

      Anton described the nurse’s profile, some of which he knew, some of which he didn’t. It was definitely the same Sara Cohen.

      Six years had come between them. Six years of no contact... Aside from that one time he’d flown to London to talk to her and seen her with that other guy. The sight had made his insides burn. He’d regretted going there instantly, and hadn’t attempted contact with her since. Not that she’d made any attempt with him either.

      ‘What about the father?’ he said now, trying not to sound as if he was fishing. ‘Esme’s father—Sara’s husband?’

      ‘It’ll just be the two of them,’ Anton said. ‘She’s single, as far as I know.’

      In the car on his way to the surgery, Fraser’s brain ran on overdrive. He could still see her face, standing in his bedroom, telling him they should go their separate ways. She’d never even let him have a say.

      He could also vividly picture her standing with that guy, outside the restaurant at the end of her street. She’d been in a nurse’s uniform. Had that been Esme’s father? Why had he left them?

      Think about this, he told himself sternly as he drove. He’d been about to cancel his work on the cruise—send someone else in his place. The Breckenridge Practice was busier than ever. Plus, living away from his mother in the new apartment still left him with enough of a twinge of guilt without him heading off to sea. His parents had run the practice from an extension of the huge family home for fifteen years. It still felt empty without his father.

      But this was Sara Cohen. The woman he’d sworn six years ago he would one day make his wife.

      Maybe he should rethink working on one more cruise.