The Surgeon's Convenient Fiancée (Medical Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

quietly. ‘His name’s Mark.’ As he said that, there was a seriousness about him, Deirdre thought, a hesitancy. Quite suddenly there were vibes that she could not interpret. Perhaps he didn’t like talking about his privatelife with strangers, even to the extent of telling them how many children he had—not like her, who had blurted out her problems. Well, he had invited her to do so, she defended herself. She was not secretive or stand-offish when it came to being honest about herself, although she was selective and careful about who heard her confidences.
    So he was married. That was really a foregone conclusion, she thought. Such a pleasant, attractive man would be spoken for. He must be in his mid-thirties, she estimated, an established surgeon, it seemed.
    For some reason she felt sad, a strange feeling like mourning, which she knew was part of her overall mental state of the moment. She felt herself slip back into that lonely world she had been in when she had sat on the bus and her body had refused to move.
    ‘I could show you around the hospital, if you would like me to, Deirdre,’ he said to her. ‘And I could get permission from the head nurse of the operating suite and show you around there, too. She’s a good person.’
    ‘That would be very nice,’ she managed to say. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Give me your phone number before we leave here and I’ll call you within the next few days,’ he said.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said again, knowing that he was feeling sorry for her. So often men said they would call, and never did. Her sadness did not lift. If only her parents were there. They would not be back from Australia for at least another three months. Abruptly, she longed to see them.
    Meanwhile, the invitation of this man seemed like a lifeline that she could cling to temporarily.

CHAPTER TWO
    ‘W HERE THE HELL have you been?’
    Jerry confronted them in the front hall of the house as they came in, having retrieved the four bags of groceries from the garage and then been dropped off at the front gate by Shay. They were in good spirits, having enjoyed the meal, until they saw Jerry, every inch the evil stepfather, Deirdre thought as she looked at him. Some of her sadness had gone, cheered by a single glass of house wine and the company of a good man. Now, looking at Jerry’s red, thunderous face, some of it came back.
    He was of medium height, broad and swarthy, with dark hair and eyes, with a certain primal attractiveness that some women found very attractive. Deirdre did not, although it had been his obvious expectation when they first met that she would find him so.
    ‘We were invited out to eat,’ she said, forcing calmness. ‘Mungo left you a note, I think.’ She was trying hard not to sound defensive or show her apprehension. Over the two and a half years that she had been with the family, she had vacillated between a rather low-key apprehension where he was concerned and a more or less indifferent tolerance. Always she was wary. That in itself had added to the strain. Now she was coming round to the idea that she wanted nothing more to do with him, something that was difficult when she was the substitute mother to his former wife’s children.
    ‘I got the note,’ he said sharply, sarcastically. ‘That may have been convenient for you, but I had colleagues in for drinks and they wanted something to eat.’
    ‘I’ve decided,’ Deirdre said, standing up straight to the extent of her five-foot-four frame, ‘that I’m not going to cook for you any more, or your guests. It’s too much for me. I was hired to look after the children, to cook for them, and that’s what I’m going to do.’
    ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, his face suffusingeven more with colour, ‘you’re getting above yourself. I could just fire you for that.’
    Afterwards, Deirdre did not know how she mustered the courage to stand up to him. Her courage was of the quiet kind, which was slow to come but steely when