Her Playboy's Secret

It wasn’t as if she felt any better about having to spend an entire rotation with the handsome senior midwife. She just hadn’t been quite as “loud” in expressing her displeasure.

Yes, she’d given him an earful about his periods of tardiness a few months back. But that had been no reason to call her an uptight, snooty, English…

Her eyes closed before the word formed, a flash of hurt working through her yet again.

Was the thought of being paired with her so hideous that he had to make sure everyone on the ward knew what he thought of her?

Evidently.

And why not? Her fiancé hadn’t minded letting a whole chapel full of wedding guests know that he’d fallen in love with her best friend, who just so happened to be her maid of honor. Tabitha had promptly run over to him, squealing with delight, and thrown herself into his arms, leaving Darcie standing there in shock.

And, yes, Robert had called her uptight as well, right before he’d dropped the bomb that had ended their engagement.

Lucas’s left hand went to the back of his neck, head bending forward as he massaged his muscles for a moment. When he finally turned around his eyes swept the area, going right past her before retracing his steps and pausing.

On her.

Then his left brow quirked, a rueful smile curving his lips. “Sorry. Heard that, did you?”

Was he serious? “I imagine there were very few who didn’t.”

He moved forward, until he was standing in front of her—all six feet of him. “I bet you did some name-calling of your own when you saw the rotation.” His smile faded. “Unless you requested we work this one together.”

Sure. That’s just what she would have done, left to her own devices.

She forced her chin up. “No, I didn’t request it, but it doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you mean. I’ve had worse assignments.” Before she could congratulate herself on keeping her response cool and measured, even when her insides were squirming with embarrassment, he gave her a quick grin.

“Touché, Dr. Green. Although since you almost had me fired the last time we interacted, I assume your ‘worse assignment’ didn’t fare quite as well.”

Since the assignment she’d been referring to had had to do with returning hundreds of wedding gifts courtesy of her ex, it would appear that way. “I don’t know about that. I think he feels quite lucky not to have to deal with my—how did you put it?—‘uptight English ways’ any more.”

Lucas’s gaze trailed over her face, but instead of whipping off a sharp retort he leaned in closer. “Then maybe you should consider some behavior modification courses.”

Although the words were made in jest—at least she thought they were—they still stung. Darcie pulled the edges of her cardigan around herself to combat the chill spreading from her heart to the rest of her body and then forced every muscle in her chin go utterly still, so he wouldn’t see the wobble. “You’re right. Maybe I should.”

His head tilted, and he studied her for a minute longer. He reached out a hand as if to touch her, before lowering it again. “Hey. Sorry. I was teasing.”

Maybe, but a part of what he’d said was true. Men did seem to find her “chilly and distant”—words her ex had also used to describe her during the last troubled weeks of their engagement. And he had been right. Compared to her, Tabitha was warm and bubbly and anything but distant.

Darcie couldn’t help the way she was made, though, could she? She dragged her thoughts back to the man in front of her. She hadn’t tried to be unreasonable during their confrontation a few months ago, whatever Lucas might have thought. Was asking someone to be prompt and to keep his mind on his job so unreasonable?

Well, she didn’t really have her mind on the job right now either.

“Don’t worry about it.” She fastened the buttons on her cardigan to keep from having to hold onto it and drew herself upright. “I’m sure, if we both remain professional, we’ll come off this rotation relatively unscathed.”

He gave her a dubious-looking smile. “I’m sure we will.”

As he strode away, his glance cutting back to the chart and giving a shake of his head that could only be described as resigned, she realized that was the problem. Neither of them seemed able to maintain a calm professionalism around the other.

Two fortnights. That’s all it was. Just because her rota corresponded with his, it didn’t mean she had to stick to his side like glue. She could do this.

Doubt, like a whisper of smoke that curled round and round until it encased its victim, made her wonder if her ex-fiancé’s cutting words were the hardest things she would ever face. She’d thought so at one time.

But as Lucas ducked around a corner and out of sight, she had a terrible suspicion she could be facing something much worse.

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_5139b345-6884-5264-aab6-578a2d94e2bf)

Present day

“CORA? WHAT’S WRONG, sweetheart?”

Lucas leaned a shoulder against the wall outside the birthing suite as his niece’s voice came over the phone, dread making his blood pressure rise in steady increments. Every time he thought his brother was through the worst of his grief, he’d go on yet another binge and undo all the work he’d accomplished during therapy.

He took a quick glance down the hall. The coast was clear.

Lucas had worked hard over the last week to make sure his personal life didn’t interfere with his job. As angry as he’d been at Darcie for giving him a public flogging over being late for work a couple of months ago, she’d been right. It was why he’d hired a childminder to help with Cora’s care. Burning the candle at both ends was not only unwise, it could also be dangerous for his patients.

Had his parents still been alive, they would have been happy to help. But it had been almost ten years since the car accident that had taken their lives.

His niece’s voice came through. “Nothing’s wrong. I just called to tell you what Pete the Geek did today.”

Cora’s Belgian sheepdog. Muscles he hadn’t been aware he’d contracted released all at once. “Can you tell me later, gorgeous? I’m working right now.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, Uncle Luke. Are you coming for dinner tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.” He smiled, unable to resist the pleading note in her voice. “What are we having?”

“Prawns!”

Cora’s birth was what had propelled him to change his career path from plastic surgery to midwifery. The lure of a glamorous life filled with beautiful women had faded away in a moment when Felix’s wife had gone into labor unexpectedly. Lucas had delivered his own niece in the living room of his brother’s home. As he’d stared down at the tiny creature nestled in his hands, Cora had blinked against the light and given a sharp wail of protest that had melted his heart. Seven years later, she still had the power to turn him into a soppy puddle of goo, especially since he and Felix were now the only family she had left.

He needed to get off the phone, but the ward was quiet—none of his patients were laboring at the moment. He cradled the device closer to his ear. “Prawns, eh? What’s the occasion?”

She giggled. “Just because.”

“You’re going to spoil me.” His chest tightened at how happy she sounded. He’d take this over those other phone calls any day.

“Oh,” his niece said, “make sure you bring some briquettes for the barbie. Daddy forgot them at the store.”

Felix had forgotten quite a few things lately. But at least he seemed to be pulling out of his current well of depression.

Footsteps sounded somewhere behind him, so he moved to end the conversation.

“Okay, Cora, I will. Looking forward to tonight.”

“Me too. Love you bunches.”

“Love you even more, sweetheart. Bye.” He ended the call, only to have the very person he’d been hoping not to encounter stalk past him, throwing an icy glare his way.