Free The Surgeon's Convenient Fiancée (Medical Romance) by Rebecca Lang Page A

married. That didn’t mean that he had no other women in his life, though.
    She flung her coat on a chair in the hall and went into the kitchen to make tea, going through the motions to calm her thoughts, which seemed to be all over the place. Sipping tea a few moments later, she was standing in the middle of the kitchen and staring out through the window at the rain-soddenlate autumn garden when the main telephone rang.
    ‘Hi, Dee. Just calling to find out where you are,’ Mungo’s voice announced when she picked up the kitchen extension. ‘Are we having supper at your place tonight?’ Deirdre knew him well enough to recognize a certain timbre of anxiety in his tone, and her heart softened with love for him. Maybe he needed to reassure himself that she was still in his life and would remain there. He was very masculine, yet gentle at the same time, not feeling the need to be aggressive to prove that he was one hundred per cent male, as so many boys and men did. Some men never outgrew that need to prove themselves, it seemed to her, and it could be tedious for those who had to deal with them.
    ‘Would you like to?’ she said. ‘I thought maybe we would. I’ve got food here.’
    ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’d like to sleep over there, too. I need to get away from Jerry for a bit.’
    ‘That’s fine with me. Will you tell Fleur?’
    ‘Sure. Be there about the usual time,’ he said, his voice brightening, as though a load had been lifted off his shoulders.
    Mungo went to a high school within easy walking distance of the house, and Fleur’s school, the middle school, was fortunately on the same campus. Mungo and Fleur came home together, having a designated spot where they met up each day. Sometimes Deirdre drove them, when her ancient car was in good working order, and if Mungo was sick, she always came and went to school with Fleur. She never took any chances with their safety.
    Deirdre was left with the task of letting Jerry know that they would be spending the night at her house, something which he didn’t generally mind about, as it meant zero responsibility for him, and she suspected that he had a woman there, discreetly, when no one else was there. For most of the time he wanted to present himself as a grieving widower—at least he was contesting Moira’s last wishes. It was a relief that he did not answer the phone, so that she could leave a voicemail message.
    When the telephone shrilled again a few moments later she thought it might be him,angry at her again for some reason, so she answered warily.
    ‘Hello, Deirdre.’ It was Shay. ‘I thought I would give you a call to see if you had had time to get to the human resources department. If not, maybe I could go there for you.’
    ‘That’s kind of you,’ she said, glad that he could not see her flush of pleasure, although no doubt he could hear that pleasure in her voice. She had given him the telephone numbers of the two houses, as well as her mobile phone number. ‘But I did manage to get one. I thought I would wait a while before actually applying…to sort things out first. Thank you again for your time today.’
    ‘My pleasure,’ he said. ‘Let me know if I can be of any further help.’ Deirdre wondered whether he felt sorry for her, could see that she desperately needed help. Somehow it didn’t matter so long as she could sustain some sort of contact with him. There was a pause, as though he didn’t want to hang up, and she didn’t know what to say next. Then the thought came to her that perhaps this was his way of saying goodbye, having salved hisconscience by being of some help to her—even though he had asked her out to dinner.
    ‘If you’re not doing anything this evening, Dr Melburne,’ she said in a rush, ‘perhaps you would like to come over here to eat with me and the two children, about seven, or earlier?’ She gave him the address hurriedly, before she lost her nerve.
    ‘I’ll come on one condition,’ he said,