The Paramedic's Secret Son Read online

  Harry stopped in front of the door, his hand raised in a fist, ready to knock.

  He could hear her moving about inside. Annabel was so close now, just on the other side of the wood. He wanted to tell her how he felt, why he left, everything. That his leaving had torn him apart just as much as it did her. He wanted to meet his son, too, but he understood why she was reluctant to let him. He’d destroyed her life back then, and he couldn’t blame her for wanting to avoid that all over again.

  Pushing his hands into his pockets to stop himself from banging on the door and declaring his intentions, he summoned the energy to walk away. He needed her to see that he wasn’t going anywhere. He needed to prove to his family that he was back and he wasn’t going anywhere again...

  Dear Reader,

  What a time to be alive. We have all had strange times recently, and one thing I love about people is their ability to come together and find the good in things. Books are a shining light that we all escape into, and I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to you all for reading this story. I hope that you love the twists and turns in Harry and Annabel’s story, and even fall in love a little as you turn the pages. Here’s to many more stories to be shared together. I loved writing about their world and the fast-paced lives of the paramedics of London and the people that they save day after day. I make people fall in love for a living, and it’s the best job in the world, but hats off to the emergency workers who keep our world turning. I am already sizzling with the next hot medic story for your enjoyment. Thank you for reading, and remember, if you love a book, a review is a perfect way to spread the word. Authors love reading them, and I am no exception. Enjoy!

  Rachel Dove

  The Paramedic’s Secret Son

  Rachel Dove

  Rachel Dove is a tutor and romance/rom-com author from West Yorkshire in the UK. She lives with her husband and two sons, and dreams of a life where housework is done by fairies and she can have as many pets as she wants. When she is not writing or reading, she can be found walking her American cocker spaniel, Oliver, in the great outdoors or dreaming of her next research trip away with the family.

  Books by Rachel Dove

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  Fighting for the Trauma Doc’s Heart

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  In memory of “Aidy”—Adrian Rothwell. Still dearly loved and missed by us all.

  Praise for Rachel Dove

  “I found Rachel Dove’s interpretation broke that mold and I enjoyed the realistic way in which she painted the personalities. All in all, the well-crafted characters plus the engaging story had me emotionally invested from the start. Looking forward to reading more of Rachel’s work.”

  —Goodreads on Fighting for the Trauma Doc’s Heart

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM HOW TO WIN THE SURGEON’S HEART BY TINA BECKETT

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE FIRST CALL came thirty-seven seconds into the early shift. A welcome distraction for Annabel, who had barely felt the coffee start to work after the morning she’d already had.

  ‘Heathrow Airport, Terminal Two, fall after feeling faint. Incoming passenger from Finland, no history yet. Sixty-two-year-old male. Possible head injury from the fall.’

  ‘Let’s go.’ Annabel grinned at her driving partner, turning on the sirens and strapping into the ambulance seat. ‘I need to turn my crappy morning around. Saving a life might just do that.’

  Tom, her long-running partner and work husband, pulled out of the ambulance station, Penny waving them off from the control desk as they pulled out into the slowly separating mid-morning traffic.

  ‘Aidan?’ he asked, flicking her a supportive best friend look. Tom was a gem. She couldn’t help but open up to him whenever they were together. She rolled her eyes at him now, puffing a strand of dark hair out of her way with a blow of exasperated air.

  ‘Who else? The builders are leaving stuff everywhere; the whole gaff is covered in dust. He’s fed up, poor kid. Plus, he’s doing some big project at school, and he keeps leaving little bits of paper everywhere, and going through Mum’s old photos. I feel like I’m constantly just cleaning up all the time, and it still looks exactly the same. I’m about ready to pack us both off to a hotel with a pool for the weekend, just to get some peace. I would have already, but the builders are bleeding me dry. I swear, I’ve been saving to buy our forever home for years, but now it’s here I wish I’d realised how much work it was going to be.’

  Tom kept his eyes on the road, ever vigilant, but chuckled. ‘It’s your dream though! Just imagine what it’s going to be like when it’s all done. What’s up with the little man, anyway?’

  ‘Lord knows. Early hormones maybe? He’s so moody lately,’ she carried on, mentally checking the rig and the traffic as she talked about her frustration. They were going to be at the call soon, and then it would be all business.

  Aidan was doing a project about family. She didn’t tell Tom this, but she was pretty sure that the lack of names on Aidan’s family tree had a little something to do with his current mood.

  ‘It turned into a whole thing this morning. Apparently, I’m an utter dork and he hates living in the new house. I figured he’d forget about it a little once I’d explained that the work wouldn’t take forever. And that I wasn’t a dork. Obviously.’

  ‘Obviously,’ Tom chortled. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Then I dropped him off at breakfast club and...ugh. It was just tense, and I hate waving him off like that. He’s not my biggest fan today.’

  The station radioed, asking for an updated ETA, and Annabel got to work, flashing him a rueful smile. She saw him clench his jaw, but he said nothing else, just put his foot down as soon as the traffic opened up.

  ‘Nothing to say?’ she probed once the cab fell silent once more, the sirens the only noise around them. Tom raised his brows, but still said nothing. Annabel huffed at him, but he smirked and ignored her. ‘He is your godson.’

  ‘Yep, and I’m not going to get involved. He still likes me.’ Annabel’s resulting scowl made him guffaw with laughter. ‘Just cut him some slack. I know he’s testing your limits, but it must be a lot for him too, right? It’s not been the easiest of years for either of you. With his fall, and your big move? He’s lived in one place his whole life, and so have you. It must be hard leaving your mother’s flat; it’s a connection to her that you’ve needed since she passed. I remember how upset you were when you started training. Your mother died, you started training to be a paramedic, then Har—Aidan came along. You haven’t taken your foot off the accelerator for a long time. Once you get your house done, you need to enjoy life a little more, that’s all.’

  She huffed again, crossing her arms, but she knew he was right. It had been a busy time, and she knew how changes could affect a person better than most. She thought back to Aidan’s fall. She’d been on shift when the call had come through from Aidan’s school. He’d had a bad fall from the equipment in the gym. She hadn’t taken the call, but she’d rushed straight to hospital as quickly as she could, to be by his side. Just thinking of her little boy, unconscious and covered in wires and tubes, it still made her shudder. Life could change in an instant. She owed it to both of them to relax a little, start to enjoy the little things a bit more.

  ‘I know; you’re right. This year ha
s taught me to cherish the everyday a bit more. Aidan’s probably picking up on my stress too.’ She looked across at her friend, playfully tapping him on the arm. ‘You’re going to be a great dad, you know.’

  Tom kept his eyes on the road but his face lit up.

  ‘Oh, I know. Watching you all these years, I picked up a thing or two. We can’t wait.’

  ‘Another lamb to the slaughter,’ Annabel muttered. ‘I can’t wait to see it either. I might even buy popcorn.’

  * * *

  They pulled into the airport in record time, heading for Terminal Two and their casualty. A small crowd of people were surrounding a shuttle bus pulled over at the side of the road, and Annabel pointed Tom their way. A couple of people from the crowd heard them coming and started to flag them down.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ An ashen-faced woman wearing a bright floral summer dress half pulled Annabel out of the cab. ‘It’s my husband! He needs to go to hospital!’

  Annabel felt the woman’s shaky hand encase her gloved one, and she squeezed it gently. ‘We’re here to help, but I have to get my equipment quickly. I need my hand, okay?’ She stressed that last part, knowing that the seconds were ticking away. The woman smiled through her panic and let her go. Within seconds, they were by the patient’s side, but someone was already working on the man lying on the ground, a beach towel underneath him that cushioned him from the harsh surface beneath him.

  ‘Sir, could you step aside, please?’ Tom asked the man. ‘Help’s h—’

  Annabel’s gasp cut Tom off. Either that, or she didn’t hear anything he said after her shock discovery. Her world had tilted sideways for a second, but she found she was still on her feet. She was suddenly years younger, sitting back on that airport bench, with waffle marks on her behind from the metal bench. And a broken, utterly shattered heart as she watched the man she loved walk out of her life forever. Her stomach recoiled at the memory.

  Please, please, don’t let me vomit in this damn airport again because of this man. It can’t be him. She blinked hard. I’m seeing things. What the heck was in that coffee?

  There was a man crouched over the patient, who was conscious and seemingly looking for someone, his head moving from side to side. His hands were reaching for someone as the man tried to settle him, speaking softly to him and trying to keep him from getting up. The wife pushed past the two ambulance personnel and knelt by his side. Tom started to talk to the Good Samaritan, asking curtly for details of what had happened, and Annabel walked towards the patient. Luckily, the professional part of her brain had switched to autopilot and she was focused on the job. The rest of her was in utter shock and wanted to turn the heck around and run for the hills. She knew she needed to run to the patient but her legs were uncooperative blobs of jelly. Just putting one floppy foot in front of the other was a herculean effort. All she could think about was the look on the Samaritan’s face when he saw her: the look of utter disbelief at what he was seeing. She wondered what the expression on her own face might have told him. Did she look just as shocked as she felt?

  He always could read me. It seems that some things never change. I need to focus! The patient. Dear God, why is he here now? Is it a coincidence? I need to work. Focus on work. I’ve wasted enough years wondering about what’s going through that man’s head, let alone his motivations. Get the job done and get the heck out of Dodge. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing here, as long as he’s going. Maybe he’s here to fly off again—he’s good at that.

  She took her chance as Tom distracted the man, to get to the patient lying on the floor.

  She checked the vitals of the patient, talking to the man she now knew to be Frank Jessop, returning from a very busy holiday visiting family who’d moved to Finland. He’d overindulged on the flight, it seemed, and had a dip in blood pressure that sent his heart into overdrive. Lugging cases and sitting on a cramped, hot shuttle bus had been the last straw. Hitting the bus rail on the way down, he now had a fall to add to his misery.

  Checking him over, Annabel was satisfied he had no obvious broken bones, but the pain in his back and knock to the head meant he needed to be transported safely to hospital to be checked over fully. His vitals were stable and holding steady. No blown pupils, and he tracked her finger with no issues. He had a headache, but nothing too concerning. He would be fine, but still needed to have a trip to hospital.

  Now brought around by his Good Samaritan, however, Frank was eager to get up off the floor and on his way home. He was embarrassed and eager to forget about the whole thing. Annabel knew how he felt as she crouched down next to him on the ground. She could see that Tom was dealing with the small crowd, getting people on their way on the shuttle bus. Keeping him at arm’s length from her, which she was grateful for.

  Thank goodness she was working with Tom and not one of the others. The conversation Tom would want to have was going to be bad enough. She didn’t want the rumour mill to start up again; she couldn’t bear it. Especially not in her current role. She was the lead paramedic now; she didn’t want to be the subject of whispers and awkward looks in the corridors again any time soon.

  * * *

  ‘I’m sorry, Frank, but we do need to take you in, get you checked over properly. You can’t drive home, but you can make arrangements with your family to collect your car. Okay?’ She could see the panic creep back onto the man’s face, and she smiled at him gently. She had sounded a little robotic. She licked her lips, suddenly feeling parched. Exposed to the rays of the hot sun, and her own past. She kept her eyes focused on her patient’s face.

  ‘Don’t worry, the car parking company have plans for this kind of thing. They’ll get it all arranged till you can collect your car. Let’s get you sorted, okay? My colleague will bring the stretcher.’ She looked across to Tom, but he was already on his way over with the equipment they needed. The Samaritan was standing off to one side, near to Frank’s wife. How caring of him, she thought childishly. She didn’t look at the man as they got Frank strapped in and wrapped up, but she felt as if his eyes were boring into her cheek the whole time.

  ‘Annabel?’

  Hearing him say her name felt like an arrow right through the heart. How long had it been since she’d heard him speak her name? How many times had she spoken his, on the messages she’d left on his phone? The ones he had never answered. ‘I’m sorry, Annie,’ were the last words he’d spoken to her, before walking through the security doors and leaving her standing there, in this very airport.

  ‘Annie?’ He said it again now, a little louder. She ignored him, but her whole body flinched, and she really had to stop her head from turning to the sound.

  ‘Annabel,’ he tried again. ‘Please...’

  ‘I’m working, sir,’ she said as coldly as she could. She heard the break in her voice and hated herself for it. Suck it up, Annie! ‘If you could just stand back and let us do our work.’

  ‘I was first on scene...’ he started, but she cut him off. She wouldn’t compromise the patient, and she had done a thorough check-up on Frank. She and Tom had this, and she didn’t want to be in his proximity a minute longer than she had to be. She felt as if her whole body were on fire, and she didn’t like how out of control she felt.

  ‘Thank you for that. If you have any pertinent information, my colleague can take it.’ She risked looking at him now and felt so grateful that she’d managed to arrange her face into a professional, emotionless expression. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Last week she’d abseiled halfway down a building to reach a casualty who was locked out on a balcony and unconscious. Thinking about it, that had actually been far easier than looking Harrison—Harry—Carter straight in the face without either breaking down, punching him right in his stupid girlfriend-abandoning face or running into his arms. She couldn’t deal with him right now, or ever. She thought about the last time she had uttered his name, and she felt her cheeks flush a
t the memory.

  He can’t be here because of that though, right? If he is, he’s a bit late. Six months late. Eight years late, for that matter. He’s had plenty of chances to come back, and he’s never taken any of them before.

  She found herself staring deep into his eyes despite herself, trying to read him.

  God, if only the frontiers of medicine could crack mind-reading. It would mean a lot fewer broken hearts. She wanted to know just what was going on in that beautiful head of his. His stupid, woman-leaving head.

  ‘Why are you here?’ she blurted, just as Tom arrived with the stretcher.

  ‘I came to see you,’ Harry said simply, and as Annabel’s emotions did a double-take she felt Tom touch her arm, bringing her back to reality.

  ‘You ready?’ Tom was looking at Harry with a wary expression, as if he were waiting for him to explode and take the lot of them out with him. ‘Annabel?’

  ‘Yep, yep!’ she yipped back like an overexcited terrier, turning away and looking at Tom. He nodded to her once before glaring back at Harry.

  ‘You okay?’ Tom said out of the corner of his mouth as they got the equipment ready. ‘Did he really just say he’d come to see you?’

  Out of the corner of her mouth, she shushed him.

  ‘Tom! He’ll hear you! And yes.’

  ‘I can hear you just fine, dear,’ Frank said as they lifted him off the ground. ‘My hearing’s fine. I really think I should just go home. I don’t need all this fuss. You should be looking after someone who’s sick.’

  ‘Sorry, Frank you have a ride in the ambulance ahead of you. We need to get you checked over.’

  Frank tutted, and Harry stepped forward. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘No,’ Annabel said bluntly. ‘Please, just step back and let us do our job.’ She gave him a look that meant to maim. ‘We don’t need you here.’ Harry raised his arms in surrender, his face a picture of hurt as he stepped back away from them. Annabel winced inwardly, but then thought back to being in that airport as her boyfriend told her he was going away without her, and her resolve strengthened.