Seemed most people from the Hunter Clinic had wrangled a day off to join in the festivities. Thank goodness she hadn’t followed through on her request to transfer; she would have missed being here with this group of people who had invited her into their sophisticated yet welcoming world.
Some of her colleagues stood in the corner, laughing, chatting. Kara began to approach, but just at that moment she saw Declan join them.
Heart thudding against her ribcage, she turned away.
With a toned body like his, encased in a dove-grey collared shirt and smart black trousers, he was bordering on illegally sexy.
Oh, please bring back the scrubs.
So much for perspective. How the heck could she get an ounce of that when he was within touching distance?
Keeping her back turned to Declan, she waved at the beaming bride and groom and at Mitchell’s adorable daughter, Mia, who was the absolute darling of the piece. And, no, not once did she feel a pang of nostalgia for her own wedding—although she did fight back the sting of tears at the smiling faces, the sweet beauty of the love-conquers-all message.
Because she knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that sometimes love just wasn’t enough to keep two people together. Which was so not how she should be feeling at a wedding.
She plastered a smile to her face, which wasn’t too difficult because Grace and Mitchell’s love shone through. ‘Congratulations! Happy day! You look gorgeous!’
Voices behind her grew louder. One of them was Declan’s. Her back stiffened.
‘Oh...er...I’ll be off now,’ she heard him say. ‘Got to go.’
‘Wait,’ the other male voice said.
Was it Ethan? Leo? She didn’t dare turn to take a look.
‘Is that Kara on her own? Come and say hi.’
God, no. Her heart dropped.
Declan’s voice grew louder. ‘No, seriously, I should go. I’ve got things to sort out.’
So he didn’t want to face her either. And why did that not please her as much as it should?
The not-as-smooth-as-Declan’s voice shouted, ‘Kara! Hey!’
All well and good to avoid proximity in the busyness of work. But out here, in the sunshine, when she’d been caught alone, they were destined to at least talk. Anything less would appear rude.
Drawing a deep breath, she turned. Declan was standing in front of her on his own now, eyes blazing with frustration, his friend having disappeared into a huddle of suited men shaking hands and laughing.
He shrugged and raised his beer bottle. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
‘Nice day for a wedding,’ he said politely, picking his words carefully.
The tiny hairs on her arms prickled at the voice. Warm and thick like Irish whiskey, it soothed her to the pit of her stomach. But also, like the strong dark liquor, it made her giddy and excitable.
‘Yes.’ She drew a breath and steadied her nerves. ‘I thought I’d come along and take a sticky beak.’
His smile was breathtaking. ‘There you go with that foreign language again. A what?’
‘A look. A nosy. My flatmates have gone away for a few days so I was at a loose end. I just took a stroll along the riverfront. I never knew there was so much along here.’
He glanced down at her wedge sandals—honestly, they were only a few inches high...
‘Really? Strolling in those?’
‘Yes, Declan, what else would you do in them?’ She held up her hand at the glint in his eye. Do not take them off. Suddenly her imagination ran riot with images of him naked...her legs wrapped around his. Heat seeped through her. ‘Do not answer that.’
‘Don’t worry, we’re in a public place—I do know how to behave.’
His voice lowered into a growl that simultaneously made her laugh and stoked something hot and needy in her stomach.
‘I’ve been behaving for the past two damned weeks.’
So he was suffering too. That gave her a short blast of something wild and exciting. To have a man have to control himself around her gave her a sense of strength—power too. Something she hadn’t had for a while.
‘And so you shall continue.’ She looked up into his dark brown eyes and thought that out here in broad daylight she was very unlikely to kiss him. Especially when they would be surrounded by people from the clinic. Despite how much she was drawn to that mouth. ‘We’re going to stick to safe subjects...like work.’
‘Really?’ His shoulders slumped forward. ‘Dull.’
‘Safe.’
‘Dull.’
‘Shut up. Actually, I was wanting to talk to you about Safia while we have a few minutes. I’m still worried about her.’
Kara had been meaning to catch up with him about the Princess for a couple of days, but an emergency case had taken priority.
He became serious in an instant. ‘Me too. She’s healing well, but my pep talk didn’t really help.’
‘Oh, it did. It was exactly what she needed to hear.’
And it had certainly helped Kara get more insight into the workings of his mind. Flirty and funny he might be, but he held people at an emotional distance, carrying baggage almost as big as hers, along with a huge responsibility for a family he tried hard not to care for.
‘She’s definitely more motivated, but she’s still very down. Her parents got her tickets for the Oblivion concert and she didn’t even show a flicker of interest.’
‘When a girl stops showing interest in a sex god there is something very wrong.’ He smirked and held his arms out, puffing his chest and smoothing his fingers through his hair. ‘I should know.’
He was a sex god?
Spasms of lust rippled through her as he laughed. Yes. He was a sex god.
He was driving her crazy with his easy nonchalance, his wicked humour, his sexy talk. Crazy and just a little bit sexually frustrated. She took a bottle of water from her handbag and had a long, refreshing drink, hoping the cold might wash some sense into her. It didn’t.
His eyes followed the movement in her throat as she swallowed. His gaze was bordering on insatiable. ‘You are way too cocky, mate.’
‘You just don’t know what you’re missing.’
Oh, but she did. Knew it with every single second she spent with him. Knew too that keeping a distance was definitely the only path to take.
She tried to relax and move the conversation to less shaky or sexy ground. ‘Funny how life works out. I never thought I’d be working in London, walking alongside the Thames on a day off, visiting places where Shakespeare had been.’
‘You had a different life planned?’
‘Yes.’ Rob was supposed to have left the army. They were supposed to have had a family, settled down. Found somewhere to belong, to fit. ‘But here I am, a long way from that.’ Making her new life fit around her instead.
He walked her slowly to a patch of grass. Laying his jacket out, he indicated for her to sit. ‘Your poor feet need a break. I have about five minutes, then I really do have to go.’
Good, setting out parameters.
Glancing around, she saw that most people had sat down in little huddles, or couples, spreading out in the park. Everyone seemed relaxed, paired off, settled in the sun. To interrupt them by barging into their groups would seem rude. Not to sit down for five minutes would too.
She determined to stay just long enough to be polite. ‘What about you, Declan? Did you always want to come here? Where is it you’re from again?’
‘County Dublin.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘Not really. I miss the fresh air, mostly, but you can’t beat London for excitement. I love it here. No pressures. I like to be free. No ties.’
No ties. Like her. And yet whereas he clearly wanted to cast his ties off, she’d spen
t a good deal of time over the years trying to forge them one way or another. It was just that she’d tied herself to the wrong people.
‘I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland—it sounds wonderful. I think somewhere back in our family’s past we have people from there.’
‘Most folks do.’
His hand brushed against hers and it would have been so easy to grasp it. But instead she shoved her fist in her dress pocket and let herself be carried away by his voice.
‘It’s a grand place to bring up kids. I can see that now, living in a big city like London where there’s noise and pollution and crime, but I couldn’t wait to escape. There were times I didn’t think I’d ever leave the village I grew up in.’
Was this a good time to broach the subject? Unanswered questions swirled in her head and she felt compelled to know more and more about him. He seemed relaxed, just chatting.
Her heart thumped a little as she asked, ‘Was that...because of the fire? Was she badly hurt...your mum?’
‘She was close to not making it. Not just physically but emotionally.’
‘I can’t imagine how bad that was for you all. What about your dad? Was he hurt?’
His eyes clouded like dark storms. But it wasn’t grief, it was anger. ‘Not badly enough.’
Wow. Bitterness flowed from him. ‘What do you mean? What happened?’
‘That’s a lot of questions, Kara.’ He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I prefer to look ahead now, eh? No point in dwelling on all that.’
She looked up into those clouds, saw fear there too, and hurt. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and wipe away that pain. But he would never let her do that—he was too proud, too closed-off.
‘You mean, back right off.’
‘Yes, I do. Leave it alone.’
At least this time his tone was gentle—but she’d overstepped the mark. In lots of ways he was right. There was no point dwelling on the past, even if it did tinge everything you felt—your dreams, your plans. Taking a long deep breath, she looked ahead.
Adults laughed and chatted, children of all ages played together, teenagers swung toddlers around, made daisy chains, chatted happily alongside each other.
With a sorry heart she thought about Safia in her hospital room, so far away from her friends and surrounded by stuffy aides and parents who desperately wanted to make her feel better but were at a loss as to what to do.
But as she watched a thought crystallised.
Declan lay back on his elbow and gave her a lazy smile. His hair kind of flopped over his eyes just a little, and once again she found herself fighting the urge to run her fingers through it. The clouds in his eyes had passed through and she saw only light in them now.
‘I have an idea.’
‘Oh?’ His eyebrows peaked. ‘Should I be worried? Scared? Excited?’
‘All of the above.’ She winked. ‘Brace yourself.’
* * *
Declan sat up as Kara smoothed her pale yellow linen dress around her. He’d thought he’d been doing quite well, sticking to safe conversations and being on his best behaviour. And, truth be told, he’d spent two whole weeks reining in his libido to the point of utter frustration—and, man, he’d been good. In Theatre, on the ward rounds, in meetings, he’d maintained a professional distance, had kept his dirty mouth in check, had not touched her. Not once.
And while once upon a time if his libido had been bouncing like this he’d have gone out and got laid with a like-minded woman, recently he just hadn’t had the appetite. But now the sight of those long tanned legs and cute kiss me mouth made his heart jump more than a little.
‘So...’ She gifted him a smile, which turned the heart-flip into a full-scale bungee. ‘Now that she’s had her second lot of surgery do you think Safia is well enough to be in a shared room?’
‘Work, work, work. Of course.’ He tipped his head back and laughed.
The woman was either work-obsessed or choosing her conversation topics with absolute care. Judging by the pink tinge to her cheeks, and the resolute way she would not look him fully in the eye, he guessed it was a bit of both.
‘Yes, she’s healing well, but her parents have specifically requested for her to be on her own. They are very strict on privacy.’
‘Yes, I understand that. She might be a princess, but really, as you say, she’s just like any other girl. She wants to be with friends, to chat and laugh and squeal over boys. I think she’s lonely, and I think she needs normal.’
‘And moving her to a shared room would give her company, distract her from her burns. Genius.’
It was a simple idea, but often they were the best ones. He’d been so focused on keeping the girl safe and her parents happy that he’d skipped past Safia’s basic needs. Companionship.
Hell, the more he thought about it the more he could apply that logic to himself. But he’d never wanted companionship before—at least not past the bedroom door—so God knew why suddenly he felt as if he’d been missing something...he didn’t want to think about what.
‘What about the cross-infection risk?’
Kara leaned forward and he caught a flash of pure white lace under the halterneck dress. His mind whizzed into overdrive. The trouble with halternecks was the sheer amount of skin exposed. Her neckline, sun-kissed shoulders, a wide expanse of back that made him want to stroke his fingers down that spine.
But the best bit about halternecks was the amount of skin exposed...the neckline, sun-kissed shoulders...
Yes, he knew exactly what he’d been missing. And looking at those long limbs, that easy smile, the curve of her breasts, he could only guess what else he was missing too.
As if he’d ever dreamt that a loudmouthed Aussie might fill a gap in his life that he didn’t even know he had. Confused wasn’t the half of it.
He dragged his eyes away and reminded himself of their conversation. Cross-infection risk. ‘Minimal, I’d say. At least at the moment while she’s still on prophylactic antibiotics. She should be fine. We’d just need to keep an eye on her temp and wound sites. I’ll talk to her parents and run it by them. I’m not sure they’ll be very happy at the prospect of moving her.’
‘But we’re talking about her mental health here, not just physical. Surely they’ll see that?’
‘I’ll discuss it with them. That’s all I can promise.’
His cell phone rang. Damn. Not today.
Her eyes flicked to his phone, lying on the grass next to him, but truly he didn’t even need to check to see who was calling.
‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’
‘Nah. It’s just family stuff.’ He’d deal with it later. He took a long slug of his beer. Later.
‘Then surely you should pick up?’
‘Look, I’m having a good time.’ The ringing stopped. ‘See. She’ll leave a message.’
It rang again.
Kara’s gaze hooked on to his. ‘It might be important.’
‘It’s Niamh. It won’t be.’
Kara’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘How do you know? How do you even know it’s Niamh?’
‘She has a special ringtone so I know when to answer. Or rather, when not to answer.’ He laughed. ‘You know, they’re great, but, man, so needy. I’m at a friend’s wedding, for goodness’ sake. This...’ He indicated the setting, the weather, his beer. Her. ‘This is nice.’
Days off were scarce; spending them outdoors with a beautiful woman were rare indeed.
His phone rang again.
‘It’s okay. Pick up. Seriously, I don’t mind.’ She reached for the phone and glared at him. But her smile was sweet and she was laughing. ‘Declan, come on, it might be important. What if it was and you missed something? Family’s important. Just be grateful you have one that cares.’
He saw the flicker of hurt as she flapped a hand in front of her and shook her head. Don’t go there. But he remembered the bitter words she’d used back in that corridor weeks ago. What their child wanted came at the bottom of the pecking order.
She’d clearly had a bad run, with parents who cared more for their careers than for her needs. And her husband had left her a widow so young.
Hell, his family might irritate him but he knew he was loved—even if it was to the point that it felt suffocating.
‘Okay. Okay. But I know I’m going to regret this.’
He huffed out a breath and snatched her hand away, grabbing her fingers and holding them. She playfully pulled back, but she didn’t wriggle from his grip. Her skin was warm on his. Every single nerve-ending fired into action.
And there...right there...that second...the electricity between them sparked into life again. Need slammed into him. She felt it too, he knew. He could just see the playful teasing in her eyes melt into something dangerous and hot. Her smile wavered into the bite of her teeth on her bottom lip, the reddening of her skin, the quickening of her breath.
She didn’t want this. But she did. And, God, he wanted her like nothing and no one he’d ever wanted before. He’d held back and held back...
He caught her chin with his hand and tilted her head to his. Her mouth was only inches away. Her tongue darted out and wet her lips as if she was about to eat something delicious.
Kiss me.
And he was going to. As he lowered his mouth towards hers the earth twisted on an axis he couldn’t fathom and the breath was stripped from his lungs. And, sure, his whole damned workplace was here, watching again. Like before—that first time on the ballroom floor.
And just like that first time he couldn’t stop himself—couldn’t stop the pull of her lips, of her fragrance. He just wanted her in his arms. There was a connection—not just a base physical attraction, something more—that drew him to her.
He was going to kiss her once more, just to get her well and truly out of his system. Then he was going to put a stop to these flirting shenanigans and focus on his life and responsibilities.
200 Harley Street: The Shameless Maverick Page 9
