The Surgeon's Christmas Wish Read online

  Take it slow, MacKenzie.

  If the military had taught him anything, it was discipline. Fraser heard his gut, his brain, hell, every particle in his body putting out a red alert, telling him he wanted Tara Braxton in his life for good. If he was going to win this woman, win her and keep her, he would have to make sure he didn’t frighten her away. And he would have to make sure he could deliver on everything he already wanted to promise her. Any hint of emotional intimacy over the past four years had sent him straight to the airport. Not that there had been anyone who’d come this close to setting his heart aflame. And right now it was on fire.

  Adopting the formal tone of a hoity-toity French waiter, Fraser motioned towards the table he’d laid out. “Mademoiselle, I believe your dinner awaits.”

  *

  Tara accepted the arm Fraser offered even though the distance they had to cover couldn’t have been more than six or seven steps. Her fingertips tingled as she slipped them into the crook of his arm, once again close enough to breathe in his mountain-scented maleness. It was all she could do not to press her cheek against his chest and inhale.

  Calm, Tara. Keep calm.

  Sliding into her chair, Tara couldn’t help letting out another laugh of pleasure as she took in even more seasonal knick-knacks Fraser had apparently spirited out of thin air. Crêpe paper turkeys, pumpkin-motif napkins, miniature pilgrim hats nestled below the candle stands. “Where on earth did you get all this? I feel as if I’m Dorothy and have landed in a North Pole version of Oz!”

  She watched as those strong, capable-looking hands of his poised above two silver-domed plates, her mind in a whirl of thoughts.

  “Ahh,” Fraser intoned, tapping the side of his nose mischievously. “That’s for me to know and you to spend the rest of the season wondering. Although...” He leant back for a moment, fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully. “If you’re in Oz does that make me the Wizard or Toto?”

  “I know who you’re not.”

  “Who’s that then?” He leaned forward looking just about as gorgeous as she had ever seen him.

  “The mayor or Lilliput.”

  She made a “sorry” face for her poor attempt at witty banter. It was all she could do to latch onto one thought at a time and process it. The last ten minutes had been nothing less than a collection of sensual teases. Come to think of it, his last statement had been on the coy side. What had he meant by “the season”? Was he just warning her all this was temporary? Tara felt herself bite down on her lip again, sharply this time, before daring to look into Fraser’s eyes. Dangerously attractive eyes shining a bright, incredible midnight blue in the candlelight.

  She swallowed hard. He seemed genuine enough, and his words could have been a casual slip of the tongue rather than betraying his deepest intentions. He’d only ever offered her friendship. Could she afford herself one night? One night of thinking her dreams had come true?

  “Is Madamoiselle ready for her first course?”

  “Only,” Tara intoned gravely, making her decision, “if Monsieur has plans to join her.”

  “But of course!”

  With a flourish Fraser lifted the silver domes to reveal two plates covered in aluminum foil. She saw a flash of dismay shoot across his face and couldn’t help a fit of giggles from overwhelming her.

  He quickly pulled the foil away and revealed two plates laden with complete Thanksgiving dinners. There was the requisite turkey, a mound of stuffing, a tantalizing knob of butter cascading down a snowy mountain of mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes complete with tiny marshmallows on top. A delicious-looking medley of peas, pearl onions and small bits of bacon rounded it all off.

  “If Tara couldn’t come to Thanksgiving,” Fraser nodded in the direction of the lodge, “then Thanksgiving must come to Tara. Even if it is three weeks late.”

  Picking up her fork, Tara paused for a moment, unable to resist reaching a hand across the small table to touch Fraser’s as he sat down to join her. She had so much she wanted to thank him for but didn’t trust herself to let loose the full force of gratitude she felt. Even so, the man deserved her thanks, however small. “Fraser MacKenzie, I don’t know who you are, but this is just about one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

  “Surely not!” His tone was light, but she could tell he was touched by her words.

  “I don’t suppose you do this for all the ladies?” Tara could’ve kicked herself, practically seeing the words hang between them like an accusation. She saw a flash of—what was it?—sorrow cross Fraser’s eyes at the mention of other women. What was eating away at him?

  He stayed silent for a few moments, making busy work of rearranging his mashed potatoes.

  Yup. She’d definitely put her foot in it. Tara felt her stomach churn with dismay. All this effort he’d gone to and her thoughtless comment had brought the mood crashing down. Why had she let her fears from the days of her ex dominate her life now? Those days were gone. Safely in the past. And here she was, dredging them up for everyone—well, Fraser—to see.

  Fraser tilted his head up from his plate and answered soberly, “This night was supposed to be a thank-you for being there for me. That was it. But I suppose it’s time I came clean.”

  Tara felt her throat constrict. What was he going to confess? That it was time to go? That their feverishly impassioned kisses had meant nothing? Surely not? No, no, no! She felt her fingers wrap round the edges of the chair seat as if trying to steel herself.

  Avoiding her eyes, he continued, “You haven’t really had a chance to get to truly know me yet. I doubt you’ll be surprised to hear few people do. We’re going to have to—” he stopped himself, clearly unhappy with his turn of phrase. He exhaled sharply, clearly frustrated with his inability to explain himself properly. “I don’t think the Fraser MacKenzie you’ve met over the past few weeks has been a good example of the man I really am.”

  “I think I’ve seen a pretty good guy,” Tara chanced. Sure, there had definitely been some rough-around-the-edges moments, but it was impossible not to see how kind and generous he was. How thoughtful. What she couldn’t put a finger on was whatever Fraser was running away from, the horrible demons he seemed to be trying to escape.

  He put down the wine bottle he’d been opening and rested his head in his hands for a moment. When he looked up his eyes betrayed a vulnerability that she had only caught fleeting glimpses of in the last few weeks. Glimpses that twisted her heart with compassion for him.

  “No.” He shook his head sadly. “That’s just it, Tara. I am not a good guy.” He took a ragged breath and unexpectedly the words began to flow. “Just over four years ago I was in Afghanistan with the British military, as you know. My brother was a lieutenant and I was a helicopter rescue pilot and field medic.” He paused to take a deep draft of wine, as if fortifying himself for a long, difficult journey. Already his eyes had a faraway look. Tara couldn’t help but feel incredibly moved. He was trusting her with a part of his history that was clearly painful to remember, let alone tell.

  “Anyway, my brother was out on a mission one day and I was at the base when we got a call. His squadron was under rebel attack. My team and I flew out as soon as we could. It quickly became clear Matt had placed himself between a couple of local families and the rebels in an effort to ward off their fire and save the families. Families largely comprised of women and children.”

  Tara caught herself holding her breath as Fraser’s voice became more staccato, emotionless, as if he were delivering a military report. His face looked haunted, eyes weighted with grief. “We tried our best to create a safe zone where we could land, get the families out, get the team out, but there was too much heavy gunfire and someone from the rebel side came just a bit too close to the chopper with an RPG.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was all Tara could do not to slide her chair over to his side of the table and wrap her arms around him. Instinct told her he needed to continue, needed to tell her the whole s
tory, so she stayed put.

  “We finally managed to land safely and were able to load up about five women and all the children. Matt radioed in that we should take the families away, get them safe, while he and his squad would fall back to a location where we could pick them up later. He said they would be all right!” Fraser rasped, his eyes burning with emotion.

  Tara reached her hands across the table to gently entwine her fingers with his. Her stomach was tied in knots, aching for the pain Fraser must have suffered, was still suffering.

  “What happened next?” she asked.

  “What do you think happened?” He pulled his hands away from hers sharply, his voice harsh. It wasn’t personal. She knew that in her heart. Silently, Tara encouraged him to continue.

  As if defeated, his shoulders slumped. Were it not for the quiet night, Tara doubted she would’ve heard him breathe out the words, “I was too late. Now his wife is a widow, with two beautiful children to raise all on her own. Children who will never know their father. All thanks to me. All this...” he waved an arm at the mountains looming outside the window “...the non-stop moving, the never settling down—it’s all to ensure they never have to lay eyes on me again. If the marines had let me...” he drew a jagged breath “...I would’ve stayed in Afghanistan until the job was done.”

  Unable to bear the pain he was enduring on his own, Tara tentatively put a hand out on the table. Waiting. It was there if he needed it.

  “You do know none of this was your fault, don’t you?”

  Collapsing his head into his hands again, she could just make out his voice. “I know. I know. I’ve been over it countless times. There was nothing else I could do. It was protocol.”

  “So why do you hold yourself accountable?” She asked the question, knowing the answer. Knowing she would’ve felt the same way had she been in his shoes.

  Still speaking through his hands, he replied, “He was my brother. He was my brother and saving him should have been the priority.” He looked up, blue eyes darkening with emotion. “Now I just need to find a way to live with myself. Staying out of what’s left of my family’s way and living on the move has worked pretty well so far.”

  “So far?” Tara couldn’t keep the curiosity out of her voice.

  “Can’t you see? Everything’s changed now.” Fraser dropped his hands away from his face. How the man could still look this ruggedly handsome in the midst of his grief was beyond her, and it took everything in Tara’s power not to leap across the table and hold him, kiss him—to just let him know he wasn’t alone.

  Just friends, remember.

  “Changed how?”

  He met her gaze with a look of pure and open honesty. “Tara...I’ve met you.”

  Tears sprang to Tara’s eyes. Could her whole world have truly changed in an instant? What exactly was it that Fraser was trying to say? One thing was for sure, she didn’t know if she was ready for the powerful waves of emotion he unleashed in her. The past year or so had been an oasis of calm. A much-needed recovery after her ex had ripped everything out from under her feet. Now here was a man, an incredibly gorgeous man no less, who made her feel about as feminine and sexy as a woman could. Not to mention a man who selflessly championed her work when he had nothing to gain. And he was promising...what, exactly?

  Not a thing. And she needed to remember that. Even though it hurt so much to know she could never tell him how much she loved him. For, despite her best efforts, she was head over heels in love with Fraser MacKenzie and it was going to take every ounce of energy she possessed to keep it in check.

  Fraser waved a hand over the elaborate meals left untouched on their plates. Forcing out a half-hearted laugh, he said, “I’m doing a pretty good job of ensuring we don’t get a bite to eat, aren’t I?”

  Tara offered him a soft smile and waved dismissively. “Not to worry. I wasn’t that hungry.”

  “What?” He put on an expression of mock fury. “After I’ve gone to all this effort? I’ve spent the entire day slaving away over a hot stove to create this incredible meal for you!”

  Tara couldn’t help but laugh along with him. She knew as well as he did that the lodge chefs were the only ones who could take credit for their rapidly cooling dinners. She might not know a lot, but she did know that she’d underestimated Fraser. There was so much more to him than a slick set of one-liners and an insanely handsome exterior. The fact that he’d been through such a life-changing trauma in Afghanistan and still put himself second in everything—during the avalanche, the rescue, in coping with losing Eric.

  He amazed her. After yesterday’s ordeal he’d still come back up fighting and now here he was telling her—what exactly? That she could trust him? Her mind careened from point to point, trying to find a way to believe him. Her heart wanted so very much to take the risk—to have a shot at loving him. Even the idea of loving Fraser thrilled and terrified her at the same time. It was an emotional step she hadn’t planned on taking again.

  Suddenly feeling the need to relieve the tension thick in the air, Tara jumped up from her chair, making comedy tiptoe steps in the direction of the pies on the nearby table. “Do you think anyone would mind if we popped these in a box, went next door, put on an old film and ate a pie each?”

  Fraser looked at her, his heart flooding with relief. How could this woman know him so well when just a few weeks ago they’d been complete strangers? Confessing his history to her had been exhausting. He’d never shared so much with anyone before and it had taken a physical toll. There was no energy left in him to hash out the ramifications of what he had done. Or to take on board the fact that Tara might not want him now she knew the real reason behind his seemingly cavalier attitude to settling down. Yet there she was, his perfect woman, beckoning him to join her.

  Wild horses couldn’t keep him away. Just being with her gave him a sense of calm. The sense of peace he had been searching the globe for these last few years. Who’d have known he’d find it here in little old Deer Creek?

  Fraser pushed himself up from the table, accepting Tara’s invitation to join her in her apartment with a grin.

  So much had been said tonight. So much to absorb. For both of them. A quiet night next to the woman he was falling madly in love with was exactly what the doctor ordered. Correction. He’d fallen in love—taking the tumble was hardly an order, it was a miracle.

  *

  “What do you fancy? A comedy or a thriller?” Tara grinned up at Fraser as she waggled a couple of DVD boxes in front of him as options.

  “How about a romance?” He closed the small space between them with a single stride, suddenly quite certain that watching a movie was the last thing on his mind.

  “What?” She looked up at him incredulously. “I didn’t think you menfolk went for that sort of thing.”

  “Depends upon what form the romance takes,” Fraser plucked the DVDs out of her hands and put them on a side table then put out a hand for her to join him on the sofa.

  Tara’s expression shifted, a flash of understanding turning swiftly to her head shaking in an agitated no-way-buster move. “No. I can’t. No... I mean yes... I want to, I can’t tell you how much I want to...but, Fraser—”

  Fraser pulled her into his arms, holding her gently, his voice barely audible in the quiet winter’s night. The backs of his fingers stroked her cheek as he confessed, “Tara, I’m in love with you. I’m so very much in love with you.”

  For an instant the whole world froze in place. Tara held her breath, her eyes flashing up to his to see how much truth was behind them. She’d wanted to hear those words so very badly and could hardly believe she was hearing them now. “But you’ll be going—”

  “Maybe, maybe not. As I said, in meeting you, everything has changed.”

  Tara felt Fraser’s finger draw her chin up towards him, his lips an excruciatingly close distance from her own. Her body was alight with desire. She lowered her gaze, dropping her eyes to rest on his lips. She caught her breath as he wo
ve a hand through her hair and gently pulled her head back, exposing her throat.

  Tara could hardly bear how unbelievably feminine she felt as he held her close, a long forefinger beginning to trace a path along her lower lip. She felt her lips respond to his touch, a tremble of longing flooding down her spine—a longing so deep-seeded she could scarcely breathe. In an instant she was accepting and responding to the deep kisses Fraser began giving her. She felt her entire body relieve itself of any vow of chastity she had made in the past. She wanted him, had wanted him from the instant she’d seen him, and now he loved her. He loved her!

  As kisses rained down on her mouth, her throat, she felt her own hands and mouth begin to make tentative explorations. Her fingers slipped up his chest and pulled his shoulders towards her with a newfound confidence. Fraser MacKenzie loved her. Fire surged through her as she allowed herself to enjoy caressing his neck, the well-defined strength of his back. Her fingers felt as though they were finally allowed to explore and enjoy a long-forbidden temptation.

  She felt Fraser’s hands slip towards her waist, thumbs grazing her breasts as he made his physical claim on her. Each of his touches pushed her further into the realms of a heightened awareness she hadn’t imagined possible. Her legs lost all strength as her lips moved in passionate harmony with his. She could barely think. Didn’t want to think.

  Her breasts pressed into him as if she weren’t able to get close enough. A low groan escaped her throat as she felt her nipples responding to the well-muscled proportions of his chest. A taut internal ache teased her nipples to form into tight buds against the lace of her bra. It wasn’t just her breasts that were responding to him, that desired him. Every pore in her body craved more. It was as if she was feeling her body anew. Thoughts fluttered in and out of her mind but nothing stuck. With each of Fraser’s caresses heat flooded throughout her—electric, jolting, volcanic heat.

  His lips took hold of hers, one by one. Giving each a gentle nibble, a light flick of the tongue, he teased her until she had to restrain a whimper from forming, when suddenly he dove back into her mouth and with a swift move lifted her off the floor, wrapped her legs around his hips and kissed her with a level of sensual pleasure she had never imagined possible. She was barely aware they’d crossed from the living room into the bedroom until he laid her down upon her bed, lowering himself beside her.