Resisting The Single Dad

He gave her a quizzical glance. ‘Oh, he really didn’t tell you. It’s not my wife. I don’t have a wife. It’s my son, Rory. He’s sleeping. One of the airline staff is minding him while I checked to see if our pick-up was here. I guess that’s you.’

‘Your son?’

She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that. Of course some of the visiting doctors brought their partners or families when they came to stay. It just wasn’t like Professor Helier to miss such an important detail. It just let her know how distracted he’d actually been.

Gene gave her a little frown. ‘Is that going to be a problem? I’m happy to call a cab and check into a local hotel. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

It was the tone of his voice. He was annoyed. And no wonder. He’d been travelling for hours to a strange city, a new job—and she wasn’t exactly being welcoming.

She held up her hand. ‘It’s no problem. If you want to get your son, I can manage the cases.’

For a few seconds he just stared at her, almost as if he was trying to decide whether to believe her or not. But she could see the fatigue on his face. She had a cheek to feel tired when he’d just crossed the Atlantic to get here. No wonder his son was sleeping. Gene Du Bois probably wanted to be sleeping too.

He gave a nod and headed back to the doors. A perfectly groomed stewardess met him with the child in her arms. Gene took the sleeping little figure easily, letting him snuggle into his shoulder, with one arm under his legs. He grabbed a large navy blue case with one hand as the stewardess brought out another—bright green with a lion on front.

Cordelia smiled as she felt a little pang. Kids. She normally managed to circumvent them. Having an ongoing cardiac condition wasn’t exactly conducive to having kids, and the older she got, the more she thought about it.

She’d learned to distance herself. It was easier that way. There was less chance of seeing what she’d miss out on. Less chance of becoming bitter about what could never be hers.

But she couldn’t exactly circumvent a kid in the same house as her.

She hurried over and grabbed the bright green suitcase, trundling it behind her, and tried to keep up with Gene Du Bois’s long strides.

‘Dr Du Bois, Professor Helier didn’t let me know what programme you’ll be contributing to. I’ll need to make some introductions and ensure everything has been put in place for you. Can you let me know what research you’re involved in?’

Gene gave her a sideways glance and slowed his steps. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if this was a good idea. I came here because the Reuben Institute is supposed to be at the forefront of cardiac research. I’m here for a month, to take the lead on the cardiomyopathy studies.’

She couldn’t help but pull a face. ‘Listen, I know this might seem chaotic, but the only thing that’s normally chaotic at the Reuben Institute is Professor Helier’s desk. Everything else is ruthlessly efficient, I assure you.’

They crossed the road towards the car park. ‘What project do you lead on?’

She winced as her stomach grumbled loudly. ‘The zebrafish studies.’ She opened the car door. ‘How about we put aside cardiac studies for this evening? I have to confess to not being much of a cook. Would the little guy eat pizza if I picked some up for us on the way back to the house?’

Gene settled the little boy into the car and strapped him in, with barely a murmur from his son. He ruffled his son’s hair. ‘Rory happens to be a big fan of pizza. After nearly twenty hours’ travelling, I’m willing to do takeout.’

Cordelia gave a thankful nod and climbed into the car. ‘Great. We should be home in twenty minutes. Settle in. The scenery is outstanding.’

She paused for a second and couldn’t help but ask the question that had been swimming around her head since she’d first seen him. ‘So, Dr Du Bois, do you always do full cowboy when you travel?’

He took off his hat as he climbed into the car and gave her a wink. ‘What can I say? I’m from Texas.’

* * *

Gene wasn’t quite sure what to think. He was beginning to regret dragging his little guy halfway across the planet to be involved in this research project. Professor Helier had guaranteed everything would be in place—including a suitable day-care arrangement for Rory.

Gene leaned back in the comfortable seat and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Maybe he should be watching the gorgeous scenery, but twenty hours of jet-lag was rapidly catching up with him. It had already made him more than a little short with his hostess. His momma would be spinning in her grave and slapping the back of his head right now.

No one could believe when his French scientist mother had fallen for a Texas cowboy—least of all her. Moving from Paris to Houston, Texas had been a culture shock for her. And after ten years and still no wedding ring, she’d finally bailed.

So Gene had spent his life between two continents. And he’d considered himself lucky. Flitting between a ranch in Texas and the city of Paris hadn’t exactly been hard. As a child he’d excelled in living on two continents. And even though his father had been disappointed his son wanted to study medicine instead of ranching, he knew his dad had still been secretly proud.

The only thing that had really swept the feet from under him had been the message three years ago from the fellow doctor he’d had a fling with at a cardiac conference. Mindy had suffered from congenital hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Pregnancy should never have been on her life plan. But when she’d found herself pregnant with Rory after a few passionate nights together in Istanbul, she’d chosen to go ahead with the pregnancy.

She’d only contacted Gene when things had got desperate. Everyone had advised her not to go ahead, knowing exactly what the strain of a pregnancy would do to her. Sure enough, soon after Rory had been born, she’d ended up on the heart transplant list.

And when she’d gone into complete heart failure, she’d finally contacted Gene to let him know about his son.

He’d been angry. He’d been furious. But how furious could a guy be at someone who was clearly dying?

His life had turned upside down in an instant. One look at the nine-month-old cheeky little blond baby, pulling himself up on wobbly legs to the side of his mother’s bed, had been all the time he’d needed to make a decision.

It didn’t help that in the interim since the conference he’d actually met someone. Karen. An anaesthetist at Boston General where he was working. They’d moved in together. Had had tentative talks about the future. He’d even considered buying a ring.

But the unexpected son had been a bolt out of the blue that Karen could never have expected. She’d been shocked—and then walked away. And he couldn’t blame her. They’d discussed the fact they might like a family in the future—but Karen wasn’t ready to deal with one that had been thrust on her. So after a year of being in a settled relationship he’d found himself alone.

Mindy had died three weeks later. And Gene had immediately set about turning his life around.

A single dad working in a hospital environment wasn’t exactly conducive to good parenting.

He’d never considered working in research up until that point. But knowing that his son carried the gene for cardiomyopathy was enough to put his priorities in order. He’d spent the last three years with his dad joking about Gene looking at genes.

But that was fine, because he’d spend the rest of his life looking at genes if it could help his son and any future grandkids.

He smiled to himself. Rory had just turned four. Four. And he was thinking about grandkids. But he was a doctor, he had to plan ahead. And every plan in his life now included Rory.

He opened his eyes and glanced at the woman driving the car. Cordelia Greenway. He was sure he’d seen her name on some of the research papers published by the Reuben Institute. She’d said she was Professor Helier’s second in command.

Gene had learned to take things in his stride. He’d had to. Life frequently threw curve balls. He didn’t mind curve balls. What he did mind was feeling as if his son was an unwanted extra. Maybe he was just being too sensitive? Or maybe he was being overprotective. But he was sure there had been a look of...something flash across Cordelia’s face when he’d mentioned his son.

It could just be that she’d been taken unawares. But his gut told him something else. His gut could almost sense her take about ten steps back. And he didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

He wasn’t crazy. He didn’t expect the whole world to love his son the way he did. Some folks just didn’t do kids. He got that. But he would never tolerate anyone making his four-year-old feel unwelcome. Long journey or not, if he had to, he’d jump on the next flight back to Texas. Getting a job was never a problem. Getting the right job was more important than anything.

He gave himself a shake as she pulled the car up outside a pizza parlour. She turned around and gave him a nervous kind of smile. ‘What’s your poison?’ she asked. ‘This place is great. Everything’s fresh and their pizzas are to die for.’

He drew in a deep breath. She was making an effort, and it was clear he made her a bit nervous. He dug into his pocket for his wallet, but she shook her head and waved her hand. ‘Don’t be silly. You just got here. This is on me.’ She bit her bottom lip and nodded towards the sleeping figure in the back seat. ‘What about Rory?’

Gene glanced at his son again and felt his heart swell. This little guy was his life. One look of that cheeky little face could brighten the darkest day.

‘Just cheese and ham for him. I’ll have whatever the Swiss equivalent of a meat feast is.’

Cordelia gave him a nod and ducked out of the car. ‘No problem. Give me five minutes.’

She walked into the pizza parlour and he leaned back in the seat again, watching as she interacted with the servers. She seemed at home here—it was obvious that they knew her. She leaned on the counter, giving him a prime view of her curves visible in her pink fitted shirt and black trousers. He gave a small smile. She’d probably look great in a pair of jeans.

Her fingers toyed with a strand of chestnut-brown hair as she chatted. For the first time he looked at her left hand. No ring. Nothing. She’d said they would all be staying in Professor Helier’s mansion. Did she have a partner already there? Or would she be there alone with him and Rory?

His stomach gave a little clench. Maybe that was part of her discomfort. She’d clearly expected a woman to arrive at Geneva airport. Maybe being alone with a strange guy and kid had completely thrown her.

After another five minutes she slid back into the car with the pizza boxes. ‘Do you mind holding these until we reach the house? It will only be another five minutes.’

He nodded and started to pay attention to the scenery as they drove through the outskirts of Geneva. The buildings and architecture were stunning, a mixture of Gothic spires and brand-new glass towers. All this with a backdrop of snow-topped mountains against a darkening sky.

The road gradually became a little more rural and Cordelia indicated and turned through a pair of elaborate iron gates and continued on down a long driveway. Thick green trees lined the driveway, with extensive grounds all around them. After a few minutes a dark house seemed to emerge out of nowhere.

Gene couldn’t help but smile. It was like a real Gothic-style mansion—straight out of a Dracula-style movie. Gargoyles adorned some of the dark grey stonework around the myriad thin windows lining the front of the house. A huge, imposing double door, painted black with a large knocker, was right in front of them.

Cordelia pulled up directly outside and turned to face him. It was the first time she’d looked a little more relaxed since they’d met.

She held out her hand towards the house. ‘Here it is. And I’ll say it before you do. Dracula’s mansion. The inside is much more welcoming than the outside. You’ll love it.’ She glanced nervously over her shoulder towards Rory again. ‘And I’m sure he will too.’ She shot him a big smile. It only seemed a little forced. ‘Welcome to Switzerland, Dr Du Bois.’

CHAPTER TWO

SHE WAS BABBLING AGAIN. It was ridiculous. She was a thirty-one-year-old experienced doctor. She had absolutely no reason to be nervous. But somehow the cowboy from Texas with the blond kid had totally knocked her sideways.

She unlocked the front door and switched off the alarm. Rory was tucked up on his dad’s shoulder again. ‘Do you want to put him straight to bed?’ she asked, praying that the beds in the guest quarters were made up.

Gene shook his head. ‘No. I want to wake him up and feed him before letting him sleep right through. I always find it’s best to try and acclimatise as soon as possible.’

She blinked. ‘You move about a lot?’

He shrugged as he glanced around the wide entranceway and huge staircase leading to the upper floors. ‘I have done. Rory will be going to school next year, so I’ll need to have a rethink. But so far he’s been in nursery in the US, the UK and France. He seems to have loved them all.’

She gave a careful nod of her head. ‘Wow. That’s a lot.’ She hesitated then pointed towards the rooms to the right. ‘The formal kind of sitting rooms are that way. But how about we grab the pizzas and go through to the kitchen? The bedrooms are all upstairs, I’ll show you them soon.’

Gene glanced back out to the car. She waved her hand. ‘I can grab the cases.’

‘No way.’ His Texas drawl almost stopped her in her tracks. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you get them. Let me sit Rory down at the table. He’s waking up anyway. Can you get him a drink of water while I grab the cases?’

She nodded quickly and showed him through to the extensive black and white kitchen, with old-fashioned wooden table in the middle, pulling out the high-backed chairs for him to settle Rory.

The little boy watched her with suspicious eyes as she opened the cupboard and nearly pulled out a glass, before changing her mind at the last moment and swapping the glass for a mug. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then filled the mug and sat down next to him. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. What did you talk to a four-year-old about? And the truth was she was a little curious about this little kid. Would he have an accent like his father? ‘Hi, Rory, I’m Cordelia. I’m going to be working with your daddy.’

She flipped open the lid of the smallest pizza box. ‘We got you ham and cheese pizza. Your dad said you’d like that. Would you like some?’ She pulled a slice of the pizza free and left it for him to grab himself.

Rory watched her with dark eyes for a few moments. It was unnerving what the gaze of a four-year-old could do to her. She didn’t blame him. He’d literally just woken up, and was in completely strange surroundings. And she’d seen those big brown eyes before. Rory definitely had his father’s eyes.

She could hear Gene rolling the suitcases inside then closing the main door behind him. He strode through to the kitchen and sat down next to Rory, ruffling his hair again as he looked at the pizza boxes. ‘Which one is mine? Come on. Eat up, little guy. You must be starving.’

Rory stared at him. ‘Where’s the French fries?’

Cordelia almost laughed out loud—there was a definite hint of a Texan accent, but there was also a little bit more. Gene said they’d stayed in France and the UK too. It seemed the little boy had picked up a little of everything. She stood up and flicked the switch on the kettle and glanced over at Gene. ‘Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?’

Gene shook his head. ‘I’ll stick to water, thanks. I want to try and sleep a little tonight.’

Rory stopped staring at her suspiciously now his dad was back and picked up a slice of pizza. He leaned his head on one hand. ‘Where’s my bed?’

Gene glanced at her and Cordelia answered quickly. ‘It’s upstairs. There are two rooms, so you can either go in a room on your own or you can go in with your dad.’

Her stomach gave a little flip. She still didn’t know if the rooms were ready or not. Franc had a housekeeper who kept the place tidy. If he’d told her in advance she would have the rooms ready.

‘Give me five minutes,’ she said, bolting down a bite of pizza and running up the stairs.

She flicked on all the lights as she ran down the corridor, past her own rooms and on to the other guest bedrooms. The door were already open—always a good sign. She checked the first. The bed had been made up in pale blue, with a pile of white towels, some soap and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom next door.

The second room had been made up in pale green. There was a teddy sitting on the bed next to the pillow. It was slightly threadbare, but it was something. She sighed in relief. At some point Franc must have remembered—even if he hadn’t this afternoon. At least the rooms were ready. She could sort out everything else tomorrow.

By the time she got back down the stairs, Rory was back in his father’s arms, a half-eaten slice of pizza on the table.

‘Is he out for the count again?’

Gene nodded. ‘Everything okay upstairs?’ he asked warily.

She nodded. ‘Yes, just checking the rooms. Everything is perfect. I was just worried in case Franc hadn’t mentioned to the housekeeper about your arrival. But he must have remembered. The rooms are fine.’

Gene followed her up the stairs and laid Rory down on the green bed. He sat for a few seconds, stroking his blond hair and just watching him.

It felt like she was intruding. Watching a moment that should be shared just between a parent and child.

He turned to face her. ‘What time are we going to the institute tomorrow? I need to know so I can get us up and ready in time.’

Her brain automatically revised her usual plans. If she told them she was usually there from six a.m. until seven at night they would think she was crazy. Or sad. Or both. ‘I normally go in around eight a.m. I like to be available to check on any of the patients involved in the trials before they get started for the day. Would you be okay if we had breakfast just after seven?’

He nodded. ‘That’s fine. We’ll probably be up early anyway. Your morning will be our afternoon.’

She felt a wave of panic. ‘Rory—what does he eat for breakfast?’

Gene shrugged. ‘Whatever you’ve got. Cereal, toast, eggs. He’s happy with just about anything.’

‘If you write a list tomorrow, the housekeeper will get you whatever you need for him. I’m not sure just how many child-friendly foods we’ll have in the house right now.’

Gene looked over at her in the dim light. She could see the shadows under his eyes. He must be just as tired as Rory was.

A million questions were burning in her brain. Where was Rory’s mother? Why hadn’t he mentioned her at all?

There was a hint of bristle along his jawline. She watched as he leaned over Rory and kissed him gently on the head, the muscles on his chest and arms visible beneath the thin soft cotton T-shirt.

Her skin prickled. It wasn’t like her to notice things like that. Of course she wasn’t blind. Of course she’d had a few relationships in the past. But she’d never been the kind of girl to really notice a guy. To look at his eyes. To look at his build. To notice the way he looked at his son.

She gave herself a shake. She was being ridiculous.

It looked like Gene could be a while, so she backed out of the door into the corridor.

She had work to do. Plenty to distract her in the meantime. Cardiac research could easily stop her thinking about the man with the accent as thick as syrup and his equally cute young son.

She gave herself a shake and hurried back to the kitchen, pulling a stack of paperwork from her bag.

Work. That’s where she was always safest. She should concentrate on that.

* * *

Rory had snored peacefully all night while Gene had slept fitfully. It always took him a few days to be comfortable enough in his surroundings to sleep well. It didn’t help that his mind had kept drifting to the chestnut-haired woman with the bright green eyes.

He still wasn’t sure about her. If Professor Helier wasn’t going to be around he’d give her a day, then decide if he was staying or not. He’d learned not to waste time in this life.

Rory got ready eagerly, jumping into a pair of bright green shorts and his favourite baseball shirt and hat while Gene showered. He generally liked to dress a little more informally at work, but first impressions always lasted, so he left his Stetson on the dresser and pulled on work clothes more fitting for a cardiac physician.

By the time they reached the kitchen, Cordelia was already there, humming to herself as the coffee percolated and she popped some bread in the toaster. The kitchen table was set with cutlery, some cereals, a jug of milk and some butter, jam and marmalade. She even had a little pad and pen with ‘Shopping list’ written across the top.

She smiled as they appeared. ‘Good morning. Hi, Rory, did you sleep well last night?’

Rory started. It was almost as if he’d forgotten that he’d met her last night. Gene pulled out a chair for him. Cordelia had the sides of her hair pulled back in a clip and she was wearing a red dress and black suit jacket. The dress ended just on her knees and he blinked in surprise at her red baseball boots.

She laughed at his expression. ‘I know. I know. I had a problem with my feet a few years ago. I find baseball boots comfiest.’ She pointed to a pair of medium-heeled black shoes at the side of the kitchen, ‘But I promise I’ll change before we leave.’

‘What happened to your feet?’ Rory asked immediately, while Gene cringed.

There was the briefest uncomfortable blink from Cordelia then she gave a small shrug. ‘A very long time ago I was a ballet dancer. And when you’re a ballet dancer you go right up on your tippy-toes.’ She opened one palm and put the tips of the fingers of her other hand in the centre. ‘But when you do that when you’re still young it does damage to your toes.’ She pulled a face. ‘So my feet are quite ugly. But...’ she waved down at her shoes ‘...it gives me a chance to wear my favourite baseball boots.’

Gene felt a bit warmer. She seemed a little more relaxed this morning. More amenable. Maybe she’d got her head around sharing this house with a stranger and his kid.

Rory stared at her. ‘I like them,’ he said as he shot a glance at his dad. Gene almost laughed out loud. He knew exactly what was coming.

‘I wanted red baseball boots, but my dad wouldn’t get me any.’

Cordelia grabbed the toast as it popped and put it on a plate, carrying it over to the table with the coffee pot. She raised her eyebrows and gave Rory a conspiratorial glance. ‘He wouldn’t? Why ever not?’

She sounded easy. She sounded comfortable around them, but Gene noticed a tiny twitch at the side of her eye. She might be acting as if everything was fine, but she was still a little nervous. Why?

He picked up a piece of toast for Rory and started buttering it for him, smiling at his son the whole time. ‘I didn’t buy him a pair of red baseball boots because we already have a pair of blue and a pair of green.’

‘You have?’ Cordelia ducked her head under the table.

She frowned as she sat up. ‘But those aren’t baseball boots.’

Rory smiled as he picked up his toast. ‘Yeah. I put on my runners today. I decided I might need to be real quick.’

Gene poured some of the coffee into the mugs on the table. ‘Why would you need to be quick, Rory?’

Rory bit his toast and chewed for a few seconds before he answered in a whisper. ‘Because there might be...girls.’

Cordelia choked at the other side of the table, putting her hand over her mouth, her cheeks getting pinker and pinker. Gene watched in amusement. ‘Okay?’

She nodded and jumped up, grabbing a glass for some water. ‘Yes. Sorry.’ She smiled as she looked back at Rory. ‘I just wasn’t expecting that one.’