Scarlet Wilson
A doctor looking to cure his son...
Does his own heart need fixing, too?
Dr. Gene Du Bois arrives at Geneva airport with more baggage than Cordelia Greenway expected—his adorable young son! She usually avoids reminders of the family she’ll never have, but there’s no escaping this devoted dad when they’re working and living together. Gene’s sexy Texas drawl soon weakens her defenses, leaving Cordelia wondering—could this little family be her future after all?
This book is dedicated to my editor, Sheila Hodgson.
Thank you for looking after me so well in the past year, and for being such a brilliant advocate for the Medical Romance line.
Love you, Sheila!
CORDELIA GREENWAY RELAXED back into the chair as she tried to ignore the palpitations and light-headedness that had started. She breathed deeply and put her fingers to the side of her neck, massaging gently and closing her eyes as she waited for the manoeuvre to take effect.
Sweat started to run between her shoulder blades—another symptom. People were chatting all around her—no one seemed to have noticed her little ‘turn’. And that was just the way she liked it. She hated fuss. She hated being under the spotlight.
So she stayed quiet, gently continuing to massage, and willing her heartbeat to steady. She probably should have glanced at her watch to time this—but she was so used to dealing with it, so used to keeping it under the radar, that it hadn’t even entered her brain until now. She’d just gone into self-protect mode.
Her other hand lifted the hair off the back of her neck, where it was sticking. Ugh. But things were finally starting to work. She could almost hear out loud the beat of her heart starting to slow. Thank goodness.
After a few minutes she took a deep breath and rested her head on the cool desk for a second. Better. She tugged at her shirt, pulling it away from her body to let the air circulate. First thing she’d do when she got back home was jump in the shower.
There was a noise to her left. She stuck her head up above her cubby hole. Several of the other researchers were doing the same—they looked like a family of meerkats.
Professor Helier was pacing with his phone. The noise had come from his office. His voice squeaky. She didn’t hesitate. She was at the glass door in seconds. ‘Franc?’
Now he was nodding, scribbling things frantically on a piece of paper. He looked so pale. He swayed a little. She walked inside and held out her hands protectively behind him, in case he fell over. Professor Helier was the whole reason she was here.
When she’d found out that he was heading up the cardiac research at this lab, she had to be here. She would have done just about anything to work with this famed researcher.
But in the end all it had taken had been a few phone calls. She’d been head of the zebrafish research in the UK—leading the pioneering work into discovering their ability to regenerate heart muscle and how that could be transferred to humans. Professor Helier had embraced her interest instantly, inviting her to come and meet him, and asking if she wanted to lead one of his teams. She hadn’t hesitated for a second.
The chance to work in Switzerland. The rich, clean air, snow-topped mountains, and a whole host of chocolates she should never touch. When she’d explained her reasons for working in cardiac research he’d just given her a beaming smile, and patted her hand. ‘Cordelia, we all have our reasons for being here. That’s what makes us all special.’ He’d winked. ‘That’s what gives us all heart.’ And the bad jokes had continued for the last three years.
He swayed a little again as he replaced the phone. She felt instantly protective. Franc must be approaching seventy and time hadn’t been too kind to him. He always had a kind of frazzled appearance about him, along with his sometimes white coat and mass of grey hair. ‘Franc, what is it? What can I do?’
No one knew exactly how old Franc Helier was. Even doing an internet search didn’t help. He’d had the same mad grey hair and slim frame for the last forty years. Some of the junior staff joked that he looked like a mixture of Albert Einstein and a mad professor from a time travel movie. But for Cordelia it didn’t matter. He was her friend. And she was his. That was all that mattered.
Franc put both hands on the desk. ‘It’s Emily,’