EPILOGUE

Six months later

“GOOD JOB, PEOPLE!” Dylan called out, pulling off his mask and cap with one hand while stripping off his gown with the other. Surgery had gone overtime and he was eager to head down to the ER to see how Dani was doing.

She’d been a little pale and tired this morning but had insisted that she was fine. Soon, he thought, tossing the soiled garments in the laundry bin and heading for the basins to wash up. Soon he’d insist on her taking maternity leave and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

The past six months had been the happiest of his life, he mused, reaching for the soap and nudging the tap open with his elbow. And even though he hadn’t yet managed to tempt her down the aisle he’d made it a habit to sneak a proposal in regularly. Like when she was soft and drowsy and sated, her barriers down.

Just this morning he’d kissed her soft mouth and gently rubbed her growing belly, chuckling when the baby moved beneath his hand. Dani’s lips had smiled against his and she’d snuggled closer, making his heart clench with love.

“Soon,” she’d murmured, smoothing her hand down over his chest, when he’d asked her again when she’d make an honest man of him. With a contented sigh, she’d pressed her lips to his left pec—right over his heart—and told him she loved him.

Full of her, he’d let it go, even though he wanted to tie her to him so tightly that she’d never get away. Never want to get away.

But his mother had warned him to be patient, so he’d be patient.

Even if it killed him.

He was grabbing a handful of paper towels when the outer door slammed open and a nurse burst in, red-faced and out of breath. It looked as if she’d been running. “Dr. St. James?” she demanded, her gaze frantically racing over the remaining surgical staff milling around. “Where’s Dr. St. James? We’ve been trying to get hold of h—”

“Here,” he interrupted, even as her gaze zeroed in on him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dani,” the woman gasped. “The baby’s coming. You have to come quickly.”

He was at her side in an instant. “What? It’s too soon. Tell me what happened.”

“No time,” she yelped, shoving him toward the outer doors. “Obstetrics Wing—surgery. They’ve called Dr. Dawson. Hurry.”

Dylan didn’t recall tearing through the hospital to the East Wing. Nor did he remember taking the three flights of stairs at a dead run. He was a doctor, dammit, a surgeon. He’d been trained to maintain a level head in a crisis. But panic ripped at him as he hit the obstetrics wing and tore through the swing doors with his lungs burning.

Just as he shoved his way into the room he heard a thin wail break through the silence.

Nicole Dawson looked up. “Congratulations, Dad, it’s a girl!”


Dani floated lazily up through layers of sleep to hear the steady beeping of machines. It was a familiar sound that comforted her and for a moment—just a split second—she thought she was back on surgical rotation.

Then she remembered seeing the flashing lights, feeling the jostle of the gurney racing down brightly lit passages. And then Dylan’s face, his eyes dark and filled with love and concern. She remembered telling him she loved him and then... Nothing.

Her eyes flew open as she tried to heave her body upright. “Dylan—?” It was a gasp on her lips, emerging as a kind of gurgling rasp.

She was barely aware of a groggy, “Wha—?” cutting through her panic. But it brought her head around as a disheveled Dylan lurched up from the chair beside the bed, his frantic gaze sweeping the room.

On their return sweep his eyes locked with hers. “What’s wrong?” he rasped, his eyes suddenly wide awake and intense. “Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?”

Dani stared at him, vaguely aware of the sound of approaching footsteps.

A young nurse skidded into the doorway, her eyes wide in her pale face. “Is...is everything all right, Dr. St. James?” she demanded.

Clearly realizing that he’d been almost shouting, Dylan cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine, thank you,” he said quickly.

“Dr. Stevens?” the nurse asked quietly, moving into the room to check the IV cannulas.

“I’d like some iced water, please,” Dani said, wanting to buy them some privacy. She waited until the nurse had left before meeting Dylan’s gaze. “What’s going on?”

He collapsed back into the chair. He looked exhausted. His jaw was rough and dark, his eyes deep pools of some fierce emotion that stole her breath. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so rattled.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Tired.”

His laugh emerged roughly before he leveled a crooked smile at her and reached for her hand, sliding their palms together, lacing their fingers. His were warm and solid, familiar.

Lifting her cold hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You couldn’t wait, could you?” His fingers tightened around hers. “I sprinted all the way from the West Wing to get here, just in time for Nicole to congratulate me.”

She licked dry lips. “What happened? I remember sudden cramps,” she admitted. “And then you... Wait... You were holding—”

“Yeah, our daughter,” he said, with such pride that Dani blinked. He kissed her knuckles, his eyes warm with love as they clung to hers. “She’s beautiful—just like her mother.”

A little thrill moved through her. “Where is she?” she demanded urgently, struggling to sit up. “I want to meet her.”

“In a minute,” he soothed as the nurse hurried in with a glass of iced water. “Let’s get you some water first. You have a lot of fluid to replace.” He gave the nurse a brief glance as he took the glass in his free hand. “You can bring our daughter now,” he said.

“Of course, Dr. St. James.”

Watching the departing nurse, Dani gripped his hand. “She’s...okay?”

His grin was a white flash in the dim room. “She’s better than okay,” he said with satisfaction, and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth.

It was a kiss that instantly gentled, clung and after a long sweet moment ended on a sigh. Hers and his.

His forehead touched hers. “She’s a fighter—like her mom,” he murmured, moving back a couple of inches to look into her eyes.

His gaze, soft and endlessly green, had something tight inside her melting, unfurling.

“She came into the world shaking her fists and bellowing!”

He straightened as the nurse reappeared, pushing a neonatal bassinet into the room.

“Thank you, Nurse Richards, I can take it from here.”

Dani’s eyes remained locked on Dylan as he gently scooped up the tiny bundle in his big, capable hands.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he crooned softly, drawing a sigh from the nurse, who was now checking Dani’s vitals. “You’re awake. Can’t wait to meet your mom, can you?”

He dropped a tender kiss on the infant’s forehead, giving Dani a quick glimpse of huge dark eyes, a wealth of dark hair fluffed around a delicate pink face and a tiny rosebud mouth.

“Well, she can’t wait to meet you.” He lifted the swaddled infant as though they shared a secret. “You won’t tell her about you know what, will you? She doesn’t need to know your dad completely embarrassed himself back there. She doesn’t need to know he went a little crazy.”

The nurse gave a short chuckle.

Dani arched a brow at him. “If he knows what’s good for him,” she announced primly, “he’ll stop talking and let me meet you.”

Grinning, Dylan gently tucked the pink bundle into her arms and pressed a kiss to her temple. But she could only stare down in amazement at her baby.

Their daughter.

Their miracle.

She looked into the perfect little face for the first time—into those slate-gray eyes that looked far too large and wise for such a tiny face—and felt tears spring into her own.

“Oh...” Her breath caught on a huge ball of emotion, because it was like holding a priceless gift—one she’d never expected to receive. “L-look at her, Dylan. She’s so perfect and tiny.”

Just then the infant opened that delicate rosebud mouth and yawned, making Dani laugh and cry as love burst through her like a shaft of golden light through heavy cloud.

With her free hand she brushed tender fingers across a delicate pink cheek and the little face turned toward the touch, rooting hungrily.

Dylan laced his fingers with hers and eased down behind her on the bed, cradling them both—Dani and their daughter—against his chest.

Snuggling in, she realized her heart was filled with a fierce kind of joy—joy and gratitude and a new hope for the future.

“She’s wonderful, Dylan.” She tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his, filled with the staggering thrill of the miracle they had made together and the life that loomed ahead. “And so are you.”

Lifting her mouth, she accepted his slow, gentle kiss. A kiss that stirred as it soothed so that even when he slowly ended it her lips clung, not ready—not nearly ready—to let go.

It was in that moment she realized with blinding clarity that she didn’t have to let go—didn’t ever have to. Because she loved him enough to take a chance.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you,” she murmured, her throat tight with the terrifying emotion that had banished all her fears and uncertainty in one blinding instant.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t see me last night, then.” His chuckle was a deep and wonderful sound. “You might rethink the whole ‘wonderful’ thing. You might change your mind about making us a family.”

She shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “Sophie deserves two people who love her.”

For a moment she felt him tense but he must have seen something in her eyes because his gaze turned intense, searching. “And do you?” he asked quietly.

Distracted by the overwhelming feelings filling her for this man—this amazingly tender and wonderful man—who’d come to her rescue one rainy night, Dani blinked. “Do I what?”

“Love me?”

Her breath escaped on a soundless sigh because she’d never been more sure of anything. “You know I do.”

His hand brushed over the wild fluff of dark hair covering the tiny head of their daughter. “Then say yes,” he urged. “Say you’ll marry me and make us a family.”

With fierce joy bursting through her, Dani turned and smiled up at him. “We’re already a family,” she murmured, and slid the fingers of her free hand into his hair. She pulled him closer, held him where she knew he belonged. “But, yes,” she murmured. “I’ll marry you.”

And with a softly muttered, “Finally...” Dylan laughed and kissed his future.


If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Lucy Ryder

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Keep reading for an excerpt from A Surgeon for the Single Mom by Charlotte Hawkes.

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