CHAPTER FOUR
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
