White Christmas For The Single Mum. Susanne Hampton
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and not noticed anything much about the man who had whisked her daughter unceremoniously into A&E. But now she noticed his chiselled jaw, deep blue eyes and soft, full mouth. In fact, each moment her eyes lingered on his face she realised he was in fact extremely handsome, even when he frowned. His powerful presence towered over her with long, lean legs and his leather riding gear accentuated his broad shoulders. She shook herself mentally. His manner was both judgmental and conceited. Alarm bells rang in her head. Why were her thoughts even teetering on noticing him past being her daughter’s emergency physician? He was just another arrogant man and one she was going to be forced to work with in some capacity.
In a perfect world she would have nothing to do with him once he had finished treating Bea. But she also knew that they didn’t live in a perfect world. And not seeing Charlie Warren again wasn’t possible. They would be consulting on the high-risk patient until the birth of the four babies.
And she was well aware that, after challenging her parenting, he would shortly be challenging her treatment plan. There was no way this working relationship was going to run smoothly. And she doubted with his attitude he intended to play nicely.
‘I had additional house calls this morning as I needed to cover another OBGYN’s patients. He’s down with the winter virus that swept through Teddy’s. With both patient loads it look longer than I anticipated, but point taken. I should have called in.’
Juliet couldn’t help but notice him staring at her. It was a curious stare, no longer angry or accusing.
‘I understand covering for ill colleagues happens but a text would have been prudent,’ she continued, ignoring his reaction, suspecting like everyone else he was looking at her as if she weren’t old enough to be a surgical specialist. She had grown tired of that look and in Dr Warren’s case she wasn’t about to give him any leeway. Nor was she about to give her unexpected reaction to him any acknowledgement. Her tone was brittle but with his masculinity hovering around eleven out of ten he was making it difficult not to be a little self-conscious despite her ire.
‘We can speak further about my delay later, Dr Turner, but let’s get Bea into Radiography and ascertain the extent of the fracture,’ Charlie announced, breaking her train of thought.
Juliet did not respond to Charlie as she wasn’t sure what exactly she would say. Her equilibrium was beyond ruffled and she was struggling to keep her thoughts on track. She returned her attention to Bea, and stroked her daughter’s brow. ‘Mummy and the doctor will be taking you on this special bed to have that picture now. And then if the doctor is right and you have broken the bone in your arm then you will have a cast put on until it’s all healed.’
‘What’th that?’
‘You know when Billy, the little boy from playgroup, fell over last year and he had a bright blue plaster on his arm? And everyone drew pictures on it with crayons? That’s a cast.’
Bea nodded. ‘I drew a star and a moon.’
‘That’s right, and it was a very beautiful star and moon.’
‘Can I take it off? Billy couldn’t take it off.’
‘No, you won’t be able to take it off but it won’t be too uncomfortable,’ Charlie chimed in with a voice that Juliet noticed had suddenly warmed. She wasn’t sure if that warmth was directed at Bea alone or if he was attempting to be nice to Juliet as well. ‘There’s a soft bit inside and a hard layer outside that stops your arm from moving so that it can heal.’
Juliet turned back to face Charlie to ask another question and immediately wished she hadn’t. He had moved closer and his face was only inches from her. His cologne was subtle and very masculine. She tried to keep the same professional demeanour but dropped her eyes, refusing to keep the courtesy of eye contact for two reasons. One, she was still fuming and waiting for an apology that she doubted she would ever receive, and, two, she didn’t want to risk falling into the dark blue pools that were more blue than any she had ever seen before. She didn’t want to forgive him for his appalling behaviour. Without all of the facts he had jumped to a conclusion that was unjust. But her hormones were overriding her good sense. It was completely out of character for her. She was angry and she never paid attention to men, good-looking or not. And she would be damned if she would allow it to happen that day. Or any day in the future.
She quickly decided she didn’t want to hear an apology from Charlie. If one was not offered it would mean that she could then remain furious with good reason, keep the man at arm’s length and her mettle would not be tested. If he made amends, he might prove to be a distraction on some level that she didn’t want. Although she knew her sensible side would win, she didn’t want to waste any time on some ridiculous internal battle of hormones versus logic. Particularly when she had a very real battle to fight with the very same man.
Coughing, she cleared her throat in an attempt to gain some composure. Dr Warren’s nearness was, for some inexplicable reason, threatening to awaken something in Juliet she had buried a long time ago. And it didn’t need digging up now. That part of her life was over. Perhaps it was just sleep deprivation, she wondered. She had not travelled for so many hours straight before either. Nor had her daughter ever suffered an injury of that nature. It had to be the series of events stacked against her that was messing with her logic. Making her emotions a little unstable. It wasn’t her. It definitely had to be the combination of factors, she decided, not Charlie Warren himself. Suddenly she had everything back in perspective, the way she liked it. Charlie Warren was her daughter’s doctor and her potential nemesis.
‘Will you be using fibreglass?’ she asked, quieting any sign of emotion. Her heart was no longer beating madly and the butterflies were one by one exiting her stomach. She was proud of herself for so quickly once again gaining control of the situation. Although she was still disturbed the situation had presented in the first place.
Jet lag, she quickly told herself. Definitely jet lag.
‘If Bea needs a cast we’ll use fibreglass and, since it will be difficult to expect Bea to keep it dry, I’ll use a waterproof lining too,’ Charlie told her.
‘Billy had blue but I don’t like blue,’ Bea said softly, looking down at her arm.
‘We have pink and yellow and I think red too,’ Charlie responded with his mouth curving to a half-smile and that did not go unnoticed by Juliet.
‘I like red for Chrithmath...but pink ith pretty... I want pink,’ Bea announced.
Juliet smiled at her daughter. As she lifted her head her eyes met Charlie’s eyes staring back at her and her heart once again began to pick up speed. It was madness for certain. The intensity of his gaze wouldn’t allow her to look away. It was as if there was something deeper, something hidden behind the outer arrogance. Warmth and kindness seemed almost trapped inside him.
And she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, and how much she’d fought it over the years, that there was a tiny part of her craving warmth and kindness from a man like Charlie.
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