Reunited With Her Surgeon Prince. Marion Lennox
Читать онлайн книгу.
impassive. Shuttered.
She thought of the first time she’d met him. She’d been nineteen, a second-year university student, working her butt off to put herself through medicine. Marc had been twenty-four, just completed training, headed to Australia for a gap year before he started surgical training.
He’d intended working his way around Australia’s coastline, but in his first week in Sydney there’d been an international conference on vascular surgery. He’d cadged an invitation because, gap year or not, he was interested.
She’d been there as a waitress. On the edges. Soaking up knowledge any way she could. She’d been working the crowd, carrying drinks.
An eminent vascular surgeon had been holding forth to a small group of similarly esteemed professionals, talking of the latest cardiovascular techniques. She’d paused to listen, intrigued by the discussion of a technique she’d never heard of.
And then one of the group had caught her eye, maybe suspecting she was eavesdropping. Uh oh. If she lost this job it’d be a disaster. She’d spun away fast—and crashed into Marc.
Her tray had been loaded with red and white wine and orange juice. The whole lot had spilled down his front. Glasses smashed on the floor. The attention of the whole room had suddenly been on her, and she’d stood, appalled, expecting to be sacked.
But Marc had moved with a decisiveness that had taken her breath away. He’d stopped people moving onto the broken glass, and he’d talked to her boss before she could say a word.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he’d said in his lovely broken English. ‘So stupid. I was caught by something Professor Kramer was discussing, and it seemed important to catch it. So I turned suddenly and I hit your waitress hard. Mam’selle, are you hurt? A thousand apologies. Sir, may I make recompense? The cost of the glasses? The wine? Something extra for your work? And, mam’selle, I will pay the cost of your cleaning...’
He’d charmed her right back into her job—and that night, when she’d finished work, he’d been waiting for her at the staff entrance.
‘I messed with your night,’ he said simply. ‘The least I can do is take you to supper.’
‘It was my fault.’
‘The fault is immaterial. It was my body you crashed into. Therefore my body will propel you to supper.’
He’d been irresistible. His looks, his accent, his smile... His kindness.
She’d fallen in love right there and then and, amazingly, he’d seemed to feel the same.
And now he was here.
‘Ellie?’ he said gently, but there was no smile.
He was waiting for an answer.
Felix was waiting for an answer.
She looked from one to the other. Her son. Her ex-husband. The man she’d loved with all her heart.
Once. Not now.
Is he my father?
There was nowhere to go.
‘Felix, this is Marc Falken,’ she managed and was amazed at the way her voice sounded. It was almost steady. ‘He’s from Falkenstein, near Austria, in Europe. Marc’s a doctor. He and I met at university and for a few short months we were married. But then there was a war in Marc’s country, a disaster that lasted for years. He was needed. I’d imagine he’s still needed. But, for whatever reason, he’s here now, and yes, Felix, Marc is your father.’
AFTER THAT, THE NIGHT seemed to pass out of her control. Felix was excited and full of questions. Marc seemed calm, courteous and kind.
She could stay silent—and she did.
Between Marc and Felix, they sorted that Marc would have dinner with them. The hospital cook was making bulk fish and chips, so they ended up at the kitchen table in Ellie’s hospital apartment with a mound of fish and chips in front of them.
Ellie simply went along with it. She didn’t have the strength for anything else.
She ate her fish and chips in silence and was vaguely grateful for them—how long since she’d eaten?
There was a bottle of wine in the fridge. She offered it to Marc but he refused. ‘Jet lag,’ he told her and she nodded and reflected that that was how she herself was feeling. She was pretty much ready to fall over now.
And Marc? He must be shocked to the core, but he was being kind.
For Felix was hammering him with questions. One part of Ellie was numb, but there was still a part of her that was taking in Marc’s responses.
‘Are you really a surgeon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you work in a big hospital?’
‘I travel a lot, Felix. I’m in charge of the country’s health system. I do operate when I’m needed, but a lot of my time’s spent checking our remote hospitals are up to standard.’
‘What’s remote? Like the Outback here?’
‘We don’t have deserts,’ he told him. ‘But we do have mountains. Lots of mountains and many of our tiny hospitals are cut off in bad weather. Like your mum’s hospital here, they’re a long way from anywhere and it’s my job to see they’re not cut off completely.’
‘But you still operate.’
‘I love my job so yes, I operate, whenever I can. I have an apartment in one of the city hospitals and I operate there when I’m needed.’
‘Like this afternoon.’
‘Like this afternoon.’
And then the questions got personal.
‘Are you married?’
‘No.’ He glanced at Ellie and Ellie concentrated fiercely on her pile of chips.
‘Why not?’
‘I guess I’ve been too busy.’
‘You weren’t too busy to marry my mum.’
‘I wasn’t,’ he said gravely. ‘But your mum and I were both students then, so we had more time. We hadn’t realised just how many responsibilities we faced. There was a war in my country and I had to go home. Your grandmother was ill and your mum was needed here. There wasn’t time for us to stay married.’
And finally Felix fixed his eyes on his father and asked the question she’d been dreading. ‘There was time to make me,’ he said flatly. ‘Didn’t you want me?’
If ever she wanted to turn into a puddle of nothing, it was now. What had she been thinking, not telling Marc what she intended?
It had been for all the right reasons, she told herself, but her silent reasoning sounded hysterical. It sounded wrong.
And Marc? He’d respond with anger, she thought, and he had every right. He could slam her decision of nine years ago. He could drive a wedge between her and her son, give Felix a reason to turn to her with bewilderment and betrayal.
Marc glanced at her, for just a moment. Their eyes locked.
She saw anger, but underneath there was mostly confusion. And concern.
All that she could see at a glance. Why?
Because she knew this man. She’d married him. Three glorious months...
‘Felix, this takes some understanding,’ Marc said, and whatever betrayal he was feeling seemed to have been set aside.
But she hadn’t betrayed Marc, she told herself. She’d told him the truth.
Sort