Isla scrunched her eyes tight remembering the day she’d met him. Zach had been sent to Paddington’s for a three-day training course on ENT paediatric surgery. Part of the humanitarian work the military did when not engaged in saving soldiers’ lives.
Her boss, and the head of surgery, Dr. Robyn Kelly, had corralled her into assisting. As Robyn was just about the nicest boss in the universe, no one could say no to her and within, oh, about two seconds of laying eyes on Zach? There was no tearing Isla out of the intensive course. She was smitten from the get-go. The only reason she’d felt ‘safe’ having the affair was because she knew he’d be leaving. No chance of getting hurt, attached or otherwise engaged. Ha! Engaged. As if he would’ve proposed.
The only reason she couldn’t get it out of her head was because of the two babies she hadn’t planned on carrying.
It was far too late to wonder what her life would be like if she’d just said no.
A rush of goose pimples raced up her arms as her body remembered Zach’s fingers brushing along her cheek. His capable hands taking possessive hold of her waist, then slipping under her scrubs when she’d arched into his chest enjoying the contrast of hot skin and cold dog tags. His lips teasing, then delivering the most sensual kisses she had ever known in her entire life. She scrunched her eyes tight against the images then forced herself to open them again even though the sound of Zach’s Northern Irish accent sounded in her ears on a loop. ‘Wait for me. One more tour of duty and I’m hanging up my camos. Next time I see you, you better be all in white and wearing a veil.’
She’d never bitten the inside of her cheek harder in her life. People didn’t mean what they said. Her mother was proof enough of false promises.
That was then and this is now.
Not only was Zach gorgeous, smart, kind and a perfect gentleman…. He was gone. Just like everyone else she’d ever opened up her heart to. It would’ve been easier to believe he had simply been a figment of her imagination if she weren’t waddling round the hospital like a blue-scrub-wearing whale with two baby Zachs battling for primo location in her womb. She was going to have to shift up another size any day now if they kept growing the way they had. Her last antenatal appointment had showed two healthy and very active baby boys.
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes, hoping the gesture looked as if she had something in them other than tears.
Zach didn’t know he was going to be a daddy. And there was no way she was going to risk telling him.
Her gaze flicked from the bouquet to the florist’s eyes. Blue.
Not as blue as Zach’s.
No one’s eyes were as blue as Zachary Keating’s.
Nor was anyone’s jet-black hair near as nice as his. No one’s voice, picture-perfect abs, arms so strong they could pick her up as if she were light as a feather…
The sharp woop woop of an approaching ambulance kicked Isla back into reality mode.
She gave the delivery chap a tight smile of thanks and headed towards the ambulance bay. No point in comparing anyone to Zach except…well…the babies growing inside her. The ones their father would never know.
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