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sat in the dimly lit room, slouched in one of the easy chairs, with his feet stretched out and resting on the bed in front of him.

      Lily had proved troublesome. It was already getting to be a habit. But at least it had given him a chance to think.

      How was he going to persuade the Dynamo to help him? The purple flight suit with neon pink writing was folded on the chair next to him. It represented her perfectly.

      His attorney had been clear. Find her and persuade her to appear in court. Even though he was the genetic parent of this child, it wasn’t an automatic conclusion he would be awarded custody.

      The whole situation was overwhelming.

      If the truth be told, he’d always imagined the fairy-tale. The husband, the wife, the nice house and the kids. He’d thought Tabitha wanted that too. That’s why they’d created the embryos. And giving the clinic permission to destroy them had felt like the final nail in the coffin. His final failure. No wife. No kids. And no clue what to do next.

      This whole thing confused him. At first he’d felt anger—been consumed with rage that such a mistake could be made. Then he’d been overcome with the emotions that this was his child. His flesh and blood.

      But Lily’s words had surprised him. Her immediate thoughts had been for Olivia, the woman carrying his child. And they’d triggered a whole host of little voices in his head.

      He’d been here all night because his patient had needed him. What would he do when he was a single parent with a baby at home? How would he cope with the long hours at work? He’d never considered anything like that. He’d always expected kids to be part of a partnership. He’d never really imagined that he would be doing this himself. Was he good enough? Was he ready?

      Carter gave himself a shake. Other single parents managed. He had plenty of colleagues who managed to juggle their work commitments and childcare. He would manage too.

      He looked at the sleeping figure on the bed, her chest rising and falling gently, her skin clear and unlined. To all intents and purposes, it was almost as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

      Now he just had to persuade Lily to help him.

      * * *

      Lily woke up feeling groggy. Her eyes flickered open and her stomach grumbled loudly. She was utterly starving.

      Something shifted at the side in her peripheral vision. A green set of scrubs, white coat and dark hair, coupled with a pair of long legs that were stretched out and resting at the bottom of her bed.

      On a normal day, this might have been part of a pleasant daydream. But this wasn’t a normal day. She knew exactly why John Carter was here—and it was nothing to do with the underlying current between them.

      ‘What is this?’ she mumbled. ‘The local pit stop?’

      Carter jerked to attention, pulling his legs down from the bed. The newspaper that was resting on his lap slid to the floor as he adjusted his rumpled clothing.

      ‘You’re awake. At last.’ He glanced at his watch.

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      He frowned at her. ‘When was the last time you had a general anaesthetic?’

      She wrinkled her brow. ‘I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’ve ever had one.’

      Carter leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘Well, just for future notice, Ms Grayson, you don’t react well to general anaesthetics. You managed to give us quite a scare.’

      ‘I did?’ Lily was confused. Something about this whole day didn’t seem quite right. The last thing she remembered she was being wheeled into Theatre and it was around four p.m. So why was the sun streaming through the windows like that?

      ‘What time is it?’ she asked, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

      Carter didn’t need to look at his watch again. ‘It’s just before seven.’

      ‘In the evening?’ Surely the sun wasn’t that bright in the early evening?

      He shook his head. ‘Nope. You’ve slept right through the night. No wonder your stomach is growling. Want me to get you something to eat?’

      ‘I slept right through?’ Lily shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. She worked in Theatre every day. Her procedure was a straightforward one. She should have been in and out in an hour.

      She pushed herself up in the bed, feeling the restriction of the lightweight cast on her leg. ‘What on earth happened?’

      Carter gave her a smile. He looked shattered. He must have stayed with her all night. He was still wearing yesterday’s scrubs and there was a faint hint of stubble around his chin.

      ‘You happened.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised. You don’t seem to do anything like you should.’

      Lily stared down at the lump under the covers. ‘Break it to me gently—am I going to spend the rest of my life setting off airport security alarms with my pin and plate?’

      Carter smiled and shook his head. ‘A common misconception. Anyway, you didn’t need them, the bone manipulated back into place easily.’ The glint appeared in his eye again. ‘At least one part of you is co-operative.’

      Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Ha-ha.’ Her stomach grumbled loudly again. ‘Make yourself useful,’ she grumbled, ‘and get me some tea and toast.’ She looked up at the bag of IV fluids hanging above her and irritating the vein in her wrist. ‘I want to get these down as soon as possible.’

      He nodded and picked the newspaper off the floor, placing it on his chair as he walked over to the doorway and spoke to one of the nursing aides.

      The headline was screaming at her: EMBRYO MIX-UP, DISASTER AT SAN FRANCISCO CLINIC.

      She felt her stomach turn over as small pieces of yesterday started to fall into place.

      She picked up the paper. ‘Lily…’ he started.

      ‘Shh.’ She put her finger to her lips and started to read.

      The words were every bit as bad as she feared.

      * * *

      Disaster has struck at a local and usually highly regarded fertility clinic in San Francisco. Olivia Simpson and her husband had stored embryos after his diagnosis with cancer. Mr Simpson died three years ago and his wife recently underwent embryo implantation to fulfil their dreams of a family. Imagine her horror when a detailed scan revealed the child she was carrying could not possibly be her husband’s. Dr John Carter and his wife Tabitha had stored embryos using an egg donor. These embryos were due to be destroyed after the breakdown of their marriage. Instead Dr Carter was notified via the clinic’s attorney that another woman was now carrying his child.

      A spokesperson from the clinic said, ‘We are devastated by these events. We have procedures and protocols in place to ensure careful handling of all embryos. Never, in the history of our clinic, have we ever had any incidents like this. Our thoughts are, at present, with the individuals affected by this event. Our attorneys are dealing with our clients in the most sensitive way they can. Olivia Simpson is distraught. She had expected this baby to be a lasting legacy to her husband, and Dr Carter has already expressed his intention to gain custody of his child.’

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