The Doctor's Gift Read online

  The Doctor’s Gift

  Big City Doctors Series Book 1

  Fiona McArthur

  About the Author

  Fiona McArthur has written more than fifty books and shares her medical knowledge and her love of working with women, families and emergency services in her stories.

  In her compassionate, pacy fiction, her love of the travel and the Australian landscape meshes beautifully with warm, funny, multigenerational characters as she highlights challenges for rural and remote families, overseas adventures, big city hospitals and the strength shared between women.

  There will be romance. Fiona means to make that gorgeous heroic man earn the right to win his beautiful and strong-willed heroine’s heart because absolutely, happy endings are a must.

  Fiona is the author of the non-fiction book Aussie Midwives, and lives on a farm with her husband in northern New South Wales. She was awarded the NSW Excellence in Midwifery Award in 2015. The NZ Koru Award in 2019 for short romantic fiction and the Australian RUBY Award for Contemporary Romantic Fiction 2020. Find her at FionaMcArthurAuthor.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Fiona McArthur

  This book is revised and reviewed from the original publication of The Surgeon’s Special Gift 2006

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author at www.fionamcarthurauthor.com except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  While every care has been taken in researching and compiling the medical information in this book, it is not intended to replace or supersede professional medical advice. The author may not be held responsible for any action or any claim howsoever resulting from the use of information in this book or anything contained in it. Readers must obtain their own professional medical advice before relying or otherwise making use of the medical information in this book.

  Cover by GlenHolman.com

  Created with Vellum

  To all those who have registered as an organ or tissue donor - you rock - one day you will improve or save the lives of many people. Thank you.

  https://donatelife.gov.au/register-donor-today

  https://www.organdonor.gov/register.html

  https://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/

  https://www.donor.co.nz/

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Reviews help authors.

  Would you like to read more books by Fiona McArthur

  Midwife On The Orient Express

  Midwife In The Jungle

  Also by Fiona McArthur

  Chapter 1

  Fergus

  * * *

  Fergus McVicker’s twitching fingers stilled at the sight of the red-headed woman. All pre-boarding nerves forgotten. Their eyes met briefly, catching in the moment and her lips kinked delightfully before walking on.

  The world slowed, she moved, and his gaze followed. Oh, dear deity! He did not have sufficient space for lust at first sight in his crowded life and that was apart from his irrational fear of flying.

  Fergus dragged his eyes away from the goddess, her divine legs, heavenly red hair and a smile that glowed like the rising of the sun. The primitive and unexpected whoomf of desire slapped him like some navigation-deficient angel had hit his chest. He concentrated down at the research papers he was using to distract himself from the sight of the planes on the runway and tried not to lift his head.

  ‘Dr Ailee Green?’ The disembodied voice of the British flight attendant broke into the hubbub of voices. ‘Would you please report to the service desk in the departure lounge.’

  Fergus gave up, checked her position. The woman, yep, that woman, gathered her bag and coat and glided to the desk. Another thump to his chest. Lordy, so gloriously tall, he’d always had a thing for Amazonian women, but also supremely relaxed. Unlike him.

  His stomach clenched but this time not because he had to trust his life to the aircraft waiting outside the window but because Dr Ailee Green’s magnetism distracted him completely as she sashayed calmly towards the uniformed attendant and presented her boarding pass for identification.

  So… she was a doctor? Of something. And on his home-bound flight heading first to Singapore. Maybe all the way to Sydney if he was lucky. If she was a surgeon like him the world would indeed be small.

  She wasn’t classically beautiful, but something about her narrow face and widely spaced eyes resonated deeply, and the way she moved left Fergus breathless.

  He shifted position so he could see her expression. Big smile, gorgeous full lips, and not afraid to look people in the eye and engage. There was something wholesome and caring about Ailee Green that slid under the barbed-wire perimeter fence he’d kept locked around his heart since Stella’s death.

  The colours she’d chosen to travel in were striking among the fashionable black of the Londoners — maybe that helped. Her sleeveless emerald shirt outlined her femininity as much as the soft, rusty orange trousers emphasised her height and slimness.

  Dr Green made him think of sitting under trees in Sydney’s Botanical Gardens on an autumn day, lunch on the pier near Luna Park, rides on the ferry across to Manly.

  She was a far cry from the last fortnight at St Edna’s grey facade, trying to find the key to promotion of organ donation for Australia. To be able to change the lives of people trapped by their failed organs had been enough to push through his flight phobia, leaving his daughter and work commitments, to come here.

  Yes, flying over here had been important, had to be to get him on a plane and away from his daughter while things were so unsettled. St Edna’s Hospital had the highest rate of organ donation in the world and the invitation and his passion had brought him the opportunity to unlock that potential at home.

  Fergus blew out a breath. The vision had quietened his nerves for a few moments at least and he wondered if he’d catch a glimpse of her again. One thing about travelling up the pointy end, the expected privacy meant he couldn’t follow up on the crazy urge to wander over and chat her up!

  The announcement to board tightened his nerves and he turned away.

  Chapter 2

  Ailee

  * * *

  Ailee Green followed the flight attendant, still wide-eyed at the upgrade from Economy to Business in the first leg, especially as the day had begun stressfully with the hysterical mother on the train back from her secondment in Scotland.

  It turned out that the choking baby she’d helped to airway clear earlier had been the daughter of a senior airline pilot. He’d made a few calls and asked for her upgrade.

  The flight attendant gestured to the seat next to the sexy guy from the departure lounge. Ailee stifled a discreet gulp. Unexpected, but nice bonus.

  They exchanged surprised glances and Ailee conceded he’d been aware of her, too. Ha. She’d thought he’d watched her out there in the departure lounge, and as she settled into the big seat she fancied that despite the huge armrest that separated them, t
he air between their seats had begun to vibrate like the twin jet engines outside.

  She tried not to blush, but the darn heat raced up her cheeks on its own agenda. She could, however, resist the urge to fan her face. ‘Do I know you?’ Her voice came out softer and more self-conscious than she’d intended.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’d remember.’

  He held out his hand. With only a slight hesitation she took his fingers and the quick touch sizzled between them. Both let go at the same instant.

  ‘I’m Fergus.’ The gravelly tones in his voice, apparently invisibly attached to her nerve endings, raised the hairs on her arms and tightened her throat. Good grief.

  His presence, bare centimetres away, seemed to rock her usually serene world and she had no idea why she was suddenly so susceptible to a stranger.

  His full lips tilted, wicked and enticing, as if sharing the joke that they’d ended up seated together, and Ailee melted into the seat like a candle under the sun. This guy was way too good-looking and probably knew it. There was that air of command and decision about him that sat like his fitted shirt so smoothly over him.

  Her neighbour had those deep, dark, bottomless black eyes she’d read about but had never believed existed... He had the lot. She glanced down at his Italian shoes near her feet. She already knew his legs were longer and stronger than hers.

  Gorgeous. Terrible timing. And next to her.

  Double, triple, darn.

  Could he have been the one? She’d waited for years, always hoping for the flash of recognition when she’d found that spark. It may have been a leap of faith that she’d one day encounter her true soul mate, but the concept kept her from rushing into anything long term because she believed in synchronicity.

  She wanted what her parents had had.

  Though, if what she was feeling now was ‘it’, then the timing sucked. Complications she did not need right now or for the next few months because she’d be no shape for any type of dalliance.

  There was always the mile-high club — sex in the clouds — while she was well enough to do it. Ailee swallowed a bubble of semi-hysterical laughter. Her wicked thought matched his black, bedroom eyes and not her common sense, and Ailee blushed again.

  She’d never had a promiscuous episode in her life and she’d bet this guy had had plenty. Face it, she told herself, it was unlikely her flirty-looking seat companion was on the lookout for a meaningful relationship if he smiled like this every time a woman sat next to him.

  She moistened dry lips and incredibly his eyes darkened even more. Lord, she was in a pickle, and she hoped he wasn’t thinking she was flirting back. She glanced around for the flight attendant to save her.

  An angel appeared with a tray of drinks. ‘Champagne? Is everything all right, Dr Green?’

  Ailee already knew the plane was full and she’d have to stay next to this gorgeous guy and sweat it out at least ‘till Singapore. ‘May I have an iced soda water, please?’ To put out the fire.

  The pretty flight attendant smiled, as if Ailee were the most important person in the world, until her eyes widened at the profile staring out the window next to her. Seemed her seat-companion had found something other than her that caught his attention.

  The woman’s gaze flitted back to Ailee.

  ‘Not fair, is it?’ Ailee said softly, and the flight attendant met her look as she handed the drink across. Both women smiled in perfect understanding.

  The drink fizzed frosty as it slid down her throat and when she’d finished it the hostess returned and cleared all the glasses for take-off.

  Ailee relaxed back in the seat and closed her eyes. She’d just pretend he wasn’t there until she was used to him, but her heart was thumping and her brain chanted. It’s him. It’s him. Finally. She couldn’t help the smile.

  The engines roared. The runway streamed past the window and she tried not to look at him while she watched the rushing earth through half-closed lids.

  The aircraft left the ground and at that moment he said, ‘Sorry. Just need to talk for a minute. Are you from Sydney?’ His voice sounded tight. Odd. Different from before.

  She opened her eyes. His magnificent chest rose and fell quickly.

  She studied him more closely as she answered. ‘Coogee. In Sydney.’

  She didn’t ask about his origins as the aircraft creaked and bumped. He winced as clouds streamed past his window, testament to how high they were off the ground already, but he told her anyway. ‘I’m from Clovelly.’ Rapidly. Still stiff in the shoulders. His hand tight on his seat belt buckle. ‘Not that far from Coogee. As the crow flies.’ Fast quick sentences.

  She sat up straighter and stopped fighting the lure of chatting with him, intrigued by his odd behaviour, a sudden urge to comfort making her want to touch his shoulder.

  Instead, she said, ‘I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Ailee.’ She held out her hand again and then remembered the spark before, but before she could pull back he curled his grip around hers. Like a lifeline. And hung on.

  His long, elegant fingers were dry, but his upper lip held a sheen of sweat and it seemed he couldn’t help a quick squeeze of her hand. ‘I don’t usually harass women, but I wondered if you would mind talking just for a few more minutes.’ His smile seemed forced. ‘Embarrassing as it is,’ he mocked himself, ‘I hate flying and I’m terrified of that moment after take-off. Before things even out.’

  It was the last thing Ailee had expected to hear but made perfect sense. He hadn’t looked like he was terrified of anything up until this moment. In fact, she would have bet he’d do a great stand-in for Tarzan wrestling a couple of lions. Not so now. She eased her fingers out of his death grip and slid her fingers around his wrist.

  His pulse raced well over a hundred and she suspected at rest he’d be a fit sixty beats a minute at most.

  She looked at him properly.

  Clinically.

  There was that faint sheen of sweat on his upper lip and a tiny flickering tic under his left eye. Shoulders and thigh muscles bunched and tense. Just as the thought triggered her professional interest they hit a patch of turbulence and his face paled to alabaster. She squeezed his wrist in sympathy and then let his arm go as he reached for the armrests.

  ‘Sure,’ she said easily. ‘Flying’s really not that bad, you know. The view is breathtaking.’

  He looked worse at the thought and she chuckled.

  He shook his head. ‘Nice laugh. That makes me feel better than the story. Let’s talk about something else. What’s your discipline? I heard them call you Dr Green.’

  ‘Surgery,’ she obliged. She steered the conversation away from flying. ‘I’m looking forward to the stop over. Have you been to Singapore before?’

  The plane dipped and righted itself. He clutched the armrests until his fingers turned white and she slid her hand across his rigid forearm and down over the top of his hand to comfort him. She saw him breathe out consciously, like a woman in labour reassured by a midwife, and she squeezed his fingers where they gripped.

  There was a pause when he didn’t answer. The turbulence settled. He blew out a forced breath. ‘Singapore? On the way over. To break the flight.’ He spoke slowly, as if enunciation was a problem. Or he was going to throw up.

  Poor guy. Ailee cast round in her mind for distracting conversation. She thought of the grand hotel left over from the colonial occupation of the English. ‘Did you go to Raffles, the big hotel?’

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t leave my room.’

  Rain rattled against the aircraft window but she ignored it. ‘You must visit. Raffles is tradition. I’m told you should at least drop in and have a gin sling and crack some peanuts.’

  ‘Peanuts?’ His hand had loosened to tight, as opposed to death-grip beneath hers.

  ‘Live a little?’ Ailee wondered who she was saying that to. Him or her? ‘You could always go the whole way and book for high tea. Though I tried to book from Lond
on but reservations need three days before you can get in.’

  She smiled up at him and Fergus looked both stunned and delighted as if she’d just given him an unexpected gift. ‘What?’

  ‘You have a beautiful smile,’ he said.

  You have a beautiful everything, she thought, but she didn’t say it. Just smiled again and they both settled back. She left her hand loosely clasped over his wrist.

  Chapter 3

  Fergus

  * * *

  Fergus knew the moment the plane levelled and the ‘Fasten Seat Belt’ sign binged and went out. Perhaps she’d leave her hand over his and he’d stay connected to her aura of calm. The stupid, embarrassing fear had seeped away with warmth of her hand over his and Fergus had the ridiculous sensation his phobia wouldn’t be as big a problem ever again.

  All he’d have to do was imagine Ailee Green’s hand on his wrist and he’d be at peace.

  She removed her fingers, leant back in her seat and closed her eyes. So much for that wish. Good to know he wasn’t irresistible, despite years of avoiding the winks and nods sent his way. He never had felt he fit in the body and the face he’d been given, often wishing he’d been nondescript and ordinary, so Ailee’s lack of fuss felt a nice change.

  The hard part was over.

  The plane hadn’t crashed. He hadn’t run. Or thrown up.