The English Doctor's Baby
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Sarah Morgan
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CHAPTER ONE
‘WE’VE arrived, sweetheart.’ Jenny switched off the engine. Her mouth was dry and her heart was banging against her ribs so hard that she felt dizzy. ‘Get ready to meet your daddy.’
She closed her eyes briefly and then turned to look at the baby, safely strapped in a car seat next to her.
Was she doing the right thing?
She’d ached over the decision for months and now the moment had finally come she was suddenly filled with doubt.
Was Alex Westerling really the right father for an innocent baby?
The answer had to be no.
But what choice did she have?
She brushed the baby’s cheek with a gentle finger. ‘You do realise that I don’t want to do this, don’t you? He might be a doctor, but the man has a wicked reputation with women and he’s never made a commitment to anyone in his life. The last thing I want to do is introduce him to you.’ She broke off and nibbled her lip, worry creasing her brow. ‘But I just can’t see any other way. We need help. We can’t manage on our own any more. And you need to know your daddy. It’s time Alex Westerling lived up to his responsibilities.’
The baby cooed happily and kicked her legs.
Jenny gave a soft smile. ‘Daisy Phillips, you are a beautiful baby. Let’s just hope he thinks so too.’
But she wasn’t optimistic.
From what she’d heard and read about Alex Westerling, babies, however beautiful, were not on his agenda. The only females who interested him were well over the age of consent.
According to gossip he was a super-cool, rich playboy who moved smoothly through life, leaving a trail of broken hearts littered behind him, and Jenny had absolutely no doubt that the reception awaiting her was going to be decidedly chilly.
Delaying the moment when she would have to leave the car, she turned to look out of the window, her eyes resting on the sea sparkling in the sun. It was a beautiful day. And she’d never felt more stressed in her life.
She absolutely loathed confrontation and you didn’t have to be a genius to work out that she was about to get confrontation by the bucketload.
Alex Westerling was not going to be pleased to see her.
‘Come on. Let’s get it over with.’ She gritted her teeth and stared down at the row of fishermen’s cottages that backed onto the sand dunes. ‘At least the man has taste. He lives in a nice place. Right by the beach. You’ll like it when you’re a bit older.’
Jenny opened her door and walked round the car. Daisy was still blowing bubbles as she undid the straps and lifted the baby carefully out of the seat and onto her shoulder.
Then she took a deep breath, locked the car and paused at the top of the path. ‘Brace yourself, Alex Westerling,’ she muttered, her hand shaking slightly as she stroked the baby’s back. ‘Your past is about to catch up with you.’
Three miles away in the accident and emergency department, Alex Westerling finished his examination and straightened up.
‘Well? Am I done for, Doctor?’ The elderly lady lying on the trolley scowled at him, but he saw the anxiety in her eyes.
‘You’re not done for, Mavis,’ he said gently, replacing the blanket and lifting the sides of the trolley. ‘But you won’t be dancing for a few weeks. You’ve broken your ankle.’
‘Broken my—’ The old lady broke off and frowned. ‘Nonsense. It’s just sprained.’
‘It’s broken.’
‘You can’t know that. You haven’t even sent me for an X-ray.’
‘I’m going to do that now,’ Alex replied, reaching for the appropriate form and scribbling on it. ‘But I already know it’s broken.’
‘How? Are you Superman? Do doctors come equipped with X-ray vision these days?’
Alex handed the form to the staff nurse who was hovering. ‘Mavis, you couldn’t put any weight on it after you fell and you’re tender over the medial malleolus—which is this bone here…’ He lifted his trouser leg to show her on himself and she winked at him.
‘Nice legs.’
Alex laughed and released his trouser leg. ‘Glad you think so.’
‘So if you’re so clever, why are you bothering with the X-ray?’
‘Because I want to have a proper look at the fracture,’ he said patiently. ‘Check that there isn’t anything else I should know about. Do you want me to blind you with science? I can explain exactly what I’m looking for if you like. Talar shift, or—’
‘All right, all right, I get the picture. I’ll have the X-ray.’ Mavis studied him carefully. ‘I know you. You’re the one that’s always in those glossy magazines. Rolling in money. Son of Sir-something-or-other and Lady-something-or-other. They live in a stately home. I saw pictures of it in a magazine. Garden bigger than a park.’
The nurse froze and glanced nervously at Alex. Alex Westerling was notoriously close-mouthed about his personal life and his family connections and certainly no one who worked with him ever dared raise the subject.
There was a moment’s tense silence and then Alex shook his head and started to laugh.
‘Anything else you know about me, Mavis?’
‘Only that you’re a bit of a heartbreaker, if the reports are to be believed.’
‘They’re not,’ Alex said dryly, and her eyes twinkled.
‘I saw you last winter, didn’t I? When I did my hip. I never forget a face. Especially when it’s as good-looking as yours.’
‘And I never forget a hip. I suppose you were running away from a man at the time,’ Alex drawled lightly. ‘Perhaps you’d better just stand still and let them catch you. That way you might stop breaking things.’
‘Well, if it was you chasing me, I probably would,’ the old lady returned. ‘You’re a handsome devil. It’s almost worth breaking something just to bump into you again.’
Alex was visibly amused by his patient and the nurse relaxed. ‘Do me a favour, Mavis. Next time you want my company just lift up the phone and we’ll meet for a cup of tea or something. It’s much simpler than breaking bones.’
‘You saucy man! I’m eighty-six! Are you asking me out?’
‘Maybe.’ His blue eyes twinkled. ‘But it’s only fair to warn you that I don’t do commitment.’
Mavis laughed with delight. ‘At my age, who cares? I just want to be a bit wicked and have fun.’
Alex smiled. ‘You’re my kind of woman, Mavis.’ His gaze flickered to the nurse who was still hovering. ‘Can you arrange for someone to take her to X-ray, please, and then call me as soon as you have the films. I don’t want her hanging around.’
‘Oh—aren’t you going to leave me waiting for twenty-four hours in a draughty corridor? You hear such dreadful things about accident departments these days,’ Mavis said, and Alex slipped his pen back into his pocket.
‘Not about my department. I’ll see you later. Try not to shock anyone in X-ray or have any more accidents on the way.’ He strolled out of the room and bumped into one of the A and E sisters, carrying a stack of X-rays. ‘Any of those for me?’
Tina shook her head. ‘Don’t think so. You’ve been trapped with that RTA for most of the day so everyone else has been doing your work.’
Alex lifted an eyebrow. ‘So if I’ve had such a slack day, how come I feel exhausted?’
Tina wrinkled her nose. ‘Because you were up all night and only had two hours’ sleep at your desk this morning?’
Alex rolled his eyes. ‘That could have something to do with it. We either need more staff or fewer patients. There’s definitely an imbalance somewhere.’
‘So are you off home now?’
‘As soon as I’ve checked Mavis Belling’s X-rays.’
‘Oh, no!’ Tina looked dismayed. ‘Is the poor thing in again? What is it this time?’
‘Ankle.’ Alex ran a hand over his jaw and noted that he needed a shave. ‘Not as bad as last time, though. But I want to check her myself.’
Tina’s eyes were soft. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a nice man, Alex Westerling?’
‘Funnily enough, no,’ Alex drawled. ‘In fact, I’m usually being told the complete opposite.’
‘Well, perhaps I should have said that you’re a nice man at work. In your personal life you are definitely not so nice.’ Tina’s eyes twinkled merrily. ‘You are very careless with female hearts.’
Alex yawned. ‘Don’t you start. I’ve just had Mavis reading my press cuttings.’
‘Well, there are rather a lot of them,’ Tina pointed out mildly, and he gave a careless shrug.
‘Is it my fault if the press have nothing better to do than follow me around? Now, give me a break, Tina. I’ve been awake for the best part of thirty-six hours with this RTA. I don’t need a lecture.’
He strolled to his office to catch up on some paperwork and stayed there, trying not to fall asleep at his desk until one of the nurses called him to tell him that Mavis was back.
He removed the X-rays from the packet and examined them one by one.
‘Well, that could be worse. See this?’ He tapped on the X-ray with his pen. ‘You’ve got a lateral malleolar fracture but fortunately it’s undisplaced.’
‘Why fortunately?’
‘Because you don’t need an operation.’ Alex flicked off the light-box. ‘You need a below-knee plaster, some pain-killers and then you need to keep this leg elevated. I’m going to refer you to the orthopaedic surgeons for follow-up. You’ll like them. They’re a good-looking bunch. Be gentle with them.’
Mavis beamed. ‘And will I see you again?’
‘Not unless you break something else,’ Alex said, scribbling a referral letter while he talked. ‘Now, how are you going to manage at home with that leg in plaster?’
‘Are you offering to come and bath me?’
Alex laughed. ‘You’re wicked, Mavis. What I had in mind was something rather more conventional, like the district nurse or perhaps a care assistant for a short time until you’re fully mobile again.’
Mavis pulled a face. ‘How boring.’
‘But practical. I’ll scribble a letter to your GP. He needs to check out your bones, if he hasn’t already done so.’
He made the necessary arrangements, picked up his car keys and his jacket from his office and strolled towards his car.
It had been a rough ten days and he was starting to feel the strain. Thank goodness there was only one more day to go before the weekend. He was going to spend the whole time sleeping and surfing.
No responsibilities.
He wasn’t home.
Jenny tried the bell one more time and then stepped back and looked at the house. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She knew that Alex Westerling was wealthy beyond her wildest imaginings and she’d assumed that his house would reflect his flashy lifestyle. But it didn’t seem to. From the outside it looked like an ordinary fisherman’s cottage.
She was trying to work out what that said about him when she heard the growl of a powerful engine approaching.
Every muscle in her body tensed and her heart took off at an indecent pace.
All her instincts warned her that it was him and the minute the low black sports car roared into view, she knew she was right.
If the house had been a surprise then the car was everything she’d expected and more. A sleek, blatant declaration of masculine self-indulgence that reflected everything she’d heard about his playboy tastes. Only someone as superficial as him would spend so much money on a lump of metal, she reflected as he turned into the drive and came to a smooth stop.
Jenny dragged some air into her lungs and clutched Daisy against her, taking reassurance from her solid warmth.
Now that the moment had finally come, she felt breathless with panic.
Whatever had possessed her to come here? What madness had made her think that confronting Alex Westerling was a good idea?
Suddenly she felt like running but her legs were wobbling so badly that she couldn’t have moved even if there’d been anywhere to run to. And there wasn’t. He was blocking the only exit.
Moving at a leisurely pace that served to intensify her anxiety, the driver stepped out of the car and removed his sunglasses. And for the first time in her life, Jenny set eyes on Alex Westerling.
She stared at him stupidly.
She’d seen pictures, of course. He was one of the Westerling triplets and she’d seen his picture everywhere, along with those of his two sisters, and because she’d seen his picture so often she’d assumed that she knew exactly what he looked like. But she realised now that she’d somehow managed to merge the pictures with her own contempt for the man and in the process had managed to distort the truth.
And the truth was that the man standing in front of her was the embodiment of all the most extreme female fantasies.
The sudden increase in her heart rate came as an unpleasant shock.
Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. She’d met handsome men before and none of them had had the physical impact of Alex Westerling. Everything about him was exaggerated perfection—his shoulders were unreasonably broad, his eyes a startling blue and his bone structure more striking than any she’d seen before.
He was achingly, spectacularly good-looking—if you liked arrogant, powerful men who thought they owned the world, Jenny told herself quickly, trying to get her reaction under control.
He might be good-looking but he was still the heartless man who’d ruined her sister’s life.
And for the first time she was beginning to see how it could have happened. How her sister could have been led to behave in such a wanton and impulsive way. It wasn’t just his immense wealth and aristocratic connections that set Alex Westerling apart from other men—it was the raw, almost untamed masculinity that surrounded him like a cloak, an aura of power strong enough to make the most worldly of women act irrationally—and Chloe had certainly not been worldly.
He locked the car with a flick of his wrist and strolled towards her, his jacket slung casually over one broad shoulder.
Brilliant blue eyes focused on Jenny without a flicker of interest, as if he was totally accustomed to having strange females holding babies waiting on his doorstep.
Jenny felt her knees shake. She was hopeless with men like him. She never knew what to say and felt totally out of her depth. Alex Westerling was someone who mixed with models and actresses on a regular basis and she knew he wasn’t going to waste a second glance on a plain, flat-chested mouse like her.
He paused in front of her, well over six feet two of raw male power. ‘Presumably you’re lost,’ he drawled, his tone maddeningly indifferent. ‘You should have carried straight on at the top of the road. This is a dead end. It doesn’t lead anywhere.’
She forced herself to meet his gaze, reminding herself that this was about Daisy, not her.
Her voice was clear and steady as she spoke. ‘It leads to you, Dr Westerling.’
The ensuing silence pulsed with tension and his gaze hardened.
‘In that case I probably ought to remind you that this is my home and it’s the one place in the world that I won’t tolerate being pestered by journalists.’
The wobble in her knees intensified and she felt the courage ooze out of her.
She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t do this.
He had an air of self-possession and unshakable cool that was thoroughly intimidating and if she had been a journalist she would have run a mile. No story would have been worth the cold, disdainful look that Alex Westerling was casting in her direction.
But she wasn’t a journalist and as if to remind her of the reason for her presence, the baby lifted a hand and patted her cheek with a chubby hand.
Daisy.
That was why she was here, facing this man.
That innocent touch gave her the courage she needed and she lifted her chin and forced herself to meet his icy gaze. ‘I’m not a reporter.’
His eyes swept over her dismissively. ‘I’ve been awake for the best part of thirty-six hours and I’m not in the best of tempers,’ he warned softly. ‘Perhaps you could just tell me what it is you want and we can both get on with the rest of the day. Your baby looks tired.’
‘She isn’t my baby, Dr Westerling,’ Jenny croaked, wondering how it was possible to shiver even in the height of summer, ‘she’s your baby. You’re her father.’
