The Doctor & the Runaway Heiress

‘I’d love some posters,’ she said. ‘If you order them, I’ll pay.’

‘Really?’ Lucy demanded, astounded.

‘I kind of think this house is boring as well. What about surfing posters? That’s your dad’s thing.’

‘My dad surfs?’ Lucy demanded. ‘Awesome.’

Had Marguerite told Lucy nothing about Riley? Her heart wrenched for both of them, and her resolution built. Family. That meant shared interests. Surfing.

‘Let’s see what the shop has,’ she said.

‘Maybe we could intersperse surfing with skiing-it’s the same sort of theme,’ Lucy said. ‘Dad looks like the kind of guy who’d ski.’

He did, Pippa thought. An outdoor adventurer. Living life on the edge. Alone.

He was the kind of guy who’d hang out of a helicopter, who’d risk his life to save hers.

He was also the kind of guy who’d make love to her to take her out of her terror. And mean nothing by it?

She’d told him it meant nothing.

Something was happening inside her she hadn’t meant to happen.

It no longer meant nothing.

He spent the morning deep in the paperwork a death by misadventure always entailed. Then, inevitably, he was at the hospital when a car crash came in, and how could he not assist? Finally he was free. He walked back to the house, entering from the veranda the way he always did. Entering his house.

It was no longer his house.

For a start it was full of people.

Amy was in an armchair, holding her baby. Lucy was on the settee and Adam was beside her. Lucy had her feet propped up on Adam’s knees. She looked even more pregnant today, he thought. The baby seemed to have dropped, settling low.

Uh-oh.

And, of course, Pippa was there. She was seated at the dining table behind a sewing machine, surrounded by fabric. She looked… worried?

His gaze met hers and held. The look she gave him was one of defiance, but her worry stayed. Like… I’m not sure I should have done this.

This?

This would have to be the house.

His breath drew in and wasn’t replaced. Breathing seemed extraneous.

He’d left at four that morning. It was now mid-afternoon and it was a different house.

The sea had come inside.

There were huge montages of surf and sky and beach and sun, and smaller montages of skiing, snow and sun.

He saw a series of ten posters of dolphins riding the waves, taken as stills one after the other, from the moment the pod entered the back of the wave to when they twisted triumphantly out as the wave crashed out onto the shore.

And there weren’t just posters.

There were cushions. Throws. And curtains! He stared around in amazement. Every window had curtains, great folds of blue and gold, draped from rods with huge wooden rings.

How the…?

‘Pippa bought a sewing machine.’ Amy seemed the only one not nervous; she was breathless with excitement. ‘The fabric shop delivered rolls and rolls of fabric and rings and rods. Adam put up the rods. Pippa’s sewed and sewed, while me and Lucy stuck up posters. Adam told us where to put them-Lucy says he wants to be an artist. And Pippa’s taught me how to sew curtains. They’re easy. She says I can have the sewing machine for a baby present and the leftover material for curtains when I get home. Do you like it?’

They were all looking at him.

It felt…

He wasn’t sure how it felt.

There was a part of him that loved it. His house was being converted into a home. More, this was a home designed specifically for him. The views from outside were echoed, but softly, the sunlight diffused, the harsh yellows turned to soft gold. Here a man could take sanctuary. He wouldn’t have to head to the surf-the surf had come to him.

He looked at the people surrounding him, Lucy and Adam, tremulous with hope that they’d done something good, Amy, beaming with pride and excitement.

Pippa, looking… wary.

She’d organised it, he thought.

She’d given him a home.

And that was the problem. Did he want a home? Had he ever? He lived out of a duffel bag. He’d never put down roots.

As a kid, his mother had always been dragging him from one place to the next, from one substitute father to the next, from one disaster to the next. Now he made sure his escape route was always open. He’d been here for six years but every moment of that time he’d known he could walk away.

How could he walk away now? He couldn’t. Amy was depending on him. Lucy and Adam were depending on him.

Pippa was still looking wary. She looked… as if she expected to be hurt.

Was she depending on him?

‘It’s fantastic,’ he said, as sincerely as he could, and everyone beamed except Pippa.

‘It’s so cool,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s even better than the hotel. I thought… if we buy a cheap mattress and put it in the spare room on the floor… could Adam and I stay here, too? The hotel was fine last night but here’s better. Pippa’s been so nice.’

She had been nice, Riley conceded. She’d invited Amy into his house. Her niceness was drawing Lucy in, too.

Nice.

But she was so much more…

‘I’m not staying here long,’ Pippa said, still wary.

‘You’ll be here until I have to go,’ Amy said, panicked. Pippa cast another sidelong-wary-glance at Riley, and nodded.

‘Yes.’

‘I want you to be here when our baby’s born,’ Lucy breathed. ‘Amy says you helped with her baby. She says you were lovely. You and Dad both. You know, if you two were here, why do I have to go to hospital? I could lie on the veranda and watch the sea when I’m in labour and I wouldn’t have to do any of that scary hospital stuff. And…’ Her happiness faded. She gave her father a scared glance. ‘It might be better. I… I don’t have insurance.’

‘You don’t have…’ Riley was speechless. ‘We couldn’t get any insurance company to cover me,’ she said. ‘Not here.’

‘Of all the…’ He turned and stared at Pippa-who was looking at a half-made curtain. Studiously not looking at him.

His life had been under control until this woman arrived. Since then… ‘This is you,’ he said.

‘Me?’

‘It’s down to you.’

‘How exactly am I responsible for Lucy not having insurance?’

‘You’re responsible for telling her she can have her baby here.’

‘She hasn’t,’ Lucy said, astounded that he was attacking Pippa. ‘It’s just… I’ve heard of lots of people having home births. I thought maybe I could, too. I knew you were a doctor. I knew… I hoped you’d help me. But if you won’t…’ She sniffed and clutched Adam’s hand. ‘Adam will.’

Adam swallowed. Manfully. ‘I… I expect you will need to go to hospital,’ he said, sounding terrified. ‘We can figure out how to pay later.’

‘But the debt…’