by Tina Beckett
CHAPTER THREE
HE WOKE UP to an empty bed. And some kind of note on the side table.
Glancing at the spot where the indent from her head still was, something shifted inside him when his hand reached for it. That same flare of emotion that had rolled through him last night. Instead of letting his fingers trace the pattern, he shook the pillow out and plumped it up until it looked like no one had even been here.
Those warning flags were waving again. Only this time they were flapping under hurricane-force winds, making him sit up and listen. Whatever this strange stirring was, it needed to stop. Now.
His parents had had a less than stellar marriage. Scratch that. Theirs had been that whole commitment-until-dead thing, even when it was so obvious that they were not in love with each other. His dad was a difficult man at times, though. He worked hard, but he didn’t play hard. In fact, he rarely ever took any time for himself.
He’d spent much of his teenage years trying to shield his brother from some of what went on, afraid he’d blame himself since it was his illness that brought them to England in the first place. Adem had been angry at first as well, which had added another layer of guilt, although he’d been careful not to let Basir see it. Instead, he’d acted out in other ways, dabbling in things he’d had no business touching.
Fortunately that stage hadn’t lasted long. And Basir seemed to be unaware of it—in fact, he seemed to be the only one in their family who’d been able to learn how to love. He’d even gone to work with his dad at the restaurant and was able to brush off his dad’s foul-tempered moments.
Because of love, he’d said.
Love.
How on earth had his brother been able to find that emotion? Because he certainly hadn’t had an example of it at home. Adem wouldn’t know love—the romantic fairy-tale kind of love—if it bit him on the ass. And even if it did, he was almost certain he wanted nothing to do with it.
Hell! Prying himself out of the bed, he showered quickly before remembering the note. He assumed she wasn’t simply in the kitchen making breakfast, since he had no sense of her presence.
Not that he would know what that felt like.
Or did he?
Walking into the bedroom clad in a towel, he picked up the paper.
Thanks for the tour. Didn’t even realize you had a view of the London Eye until this morning. Headed back to the real world, though. Catching the tube to get my car.
That was it? She “didn’t realize he had a view of the London Eye”? The Ferris wheel was one of the iconic landmarks of London. He guessed he should be glad that she hadn’t been staring at it during...
Or maybe she had been.
A day that had started off rough suddenly felt worse. Much worse. Because he sure as hell hadn’t been looking at anything but her. The whole night.
He swore.
Somehow what was supposed to be a light, fun frolic—since when had he ever used that word?—had turned into a road that was dark and curvy. And Adem loathed not being able to see what was around the next bend.
So he was going to take the kinks out of whatever this emotion was and set it back on a straight course. Kinks? He grimaced at the term. He’d discovered a few kinks he hadn’t realized he had.
He sucked down a deep breath and blew it out, tightening the towel and wandering into the living room. His shift didn’t start until nine, and it was barely seven in the morning.
He glanced at his phone and saw that Basir had tried to call him about half an hour ago. Perfect. Maybe that’s where some of his thoughts about the past had come from. Some subconscious tickle perhaps alerting him to be on guard?
Nonsense!
But still, he was going to wait and call him back later.
So what time had Carly left? They hadn’t even gone to sleep until the early hours. If he were smart he would try to get another hour’s worth of shut-eye before he headed to the clinic.
No. Wait. The hospital. He needed to see their aneurysm patient.
Their.
Kahretsin. He’d bet his last pound that Carly was already there, checking on her.
Feeling like a major slacker for even forgetting about the woman, he turned to head back into the bedroom, head tilting as something on the glass window caught his eye. Some kind of mark.
His jaw tightened as he walked closer and realized exactly what those smudges were. Handprints. From their time in front of the window. Images floated around in his skull, bits and pieces of sight, sound and the sensations that went along with them. His body reacted instantly, despite all they’d done last night.
Yes, calling his brother and hearing all about his happy life would definitely have to wait until later. Until after he’d downed a few cups of coffee.
Coffee he’d never had a chance to make for Carly.
Grinding his teeth, he headed for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of spray cleaner and a couple of paper towels. And in the same way he’d removed the imprint on that pillow, a couple of squirts erased those telltale marks. But not the memories.
He stood back and looked at the glass. There. You’d never know Carly had been here.
Then he saw the London Eye and remembered that note. As sure as the sun was quickly rising in the east, he knew that every time he saw that Ferris wheel, he was going to see her hands pressed against that glass.
He swore louder, letting the anger and frustration wash away whatever softer emotions were fermenting in his gut. Like the fact that he wanted to see her again. Soon.
But like she’d said, it was time to reenter the real world. Before he did something he might really regret.
Like fall for her?
Not going to happen. He was not Basir.
Unlike his brother, Adem had never fallen for anyone in his life. And there was no way a one-night stand was going to change that.
As long as he didn’t let himself be put in a situation where it could—like sleeping with her again—there was no reason for that encounter to change anything.
* * *
Carly tried concentrating on what Esther was saying, even as she felt him enter the room.
That was ridiculous. You couldn’t really feel someone come in.
She glanced back, hoping beyond hope she was right about it not being possible.
Nope. Not right. There stood Adem, looking freshly showered and dressed, while she was still in her clothes from last night—although she had jumped under the spray in the hospital gym to rid herself of his scent. She’d woken up in a panic of not knowing where she was, and that had changed to horror when she remembered what they’d done. She never let herself go like that. Never.
Not that there was anything wrong with it. There wasn’t.
Except it had left a deeper imprint than she’d expected. Which was why she hadn’t been able to get out of his flat fast enough this morning and had hoped beyond hope that she could get out of the hospital before he arrived. And she knew he would, since Naomi was officially assigned to a team of specialists which he was heading up. Carly had briefed her friend on the situation, and since Esther worked in neonatal intensive care, she’d brought her in to meet Naomi.
Esther’s eyes widened slightly when she spotted Adem. Then she turned to Carly. “Have you got this?”
Got what? Adem?
Oh! She was talking about the situation, not her relationship. Not that there was one.
Her friend was trying to politely excuse herself. Did she sense something? “Yep. I know you need to get back to work.”
Naomi smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You as well. Can’t wait to see your little one.” Then Esther murmured her goodbyes and slid from the room.
Adem moved in to stand next to her, and her pulse immediately started thrumming in her chest. She took a calming breath, hoping he couldn’t see her reac
tion.
“Did something happen?” He glanced at the closed door, and Carly realized he was wondering why Esther had been in the room. His being here caused everything in her head to turn into a chaotic mess.
“No, everything’s fine. Her vitals are still holding steady and the baby’s heart rate is perfect.”
“Good.” He came over to the bedside, laying a hand on the edge of Naomi’s mattress. “How’s your head feeling?”
“Better. Maybe whatever you thought you saw on the scan turned out to be nothing?” The flash of hope in her voice tugged at Carly’s heart. This was the hard part of her job. And no matter how much she lectured herself on not getting emotionally involved, she did. She loved her patients, many of whom had come to her for subsequent pregnancies, keeping her updated with pictures of their kids as they grew and changed.
Carly was the only one who seemed...well, static. Ever since she’d stopped trying to have a baby of her own, she felt stuck in place—her feet planted on an immobile sidewalk while conveyor belts of people whooshed past her into their own happy futures, some never to be seen again. Esther probably would as well. The world was leaving her behind.
Could that be part of the reason she’d jumped at the chance to sleep with Adem? To shake that feeling off? To prove to herself that she was still spinning on this globe called life, just like everyone else?
His voice brought those thoughts to a halt.
“I’ll relook at everything, but I don’t think there’s been a mistake. I’ll meet with the team this morning, and we’ll come up with a consensus that keeps you and the baby as safe as possible. Okay? You’ve already met Esther McDonald.”
“Yes. And everyone’s been so nice.” She reached up and gripped her husband’s hand. “But I’m actually glad you came to see me. If for some reason you have to choose between me and the baby during surgery, I... I want our baby to come first, so—”
“Hey, stop.” Douglas leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You heard him. He wants to keep you both safe.”
The man glanced at Adem. “When will you make a decision about what to do?”
“Hopefully this morning. I’ve already called in Dr. Dubois, one of our obstetricians. And of course Carly will be there as well.”
She would? She’d asked, but she’d known from the start that there were no guarantees one way or the other. “I want to be there. I have to be at the clinic this morning, though.”
Adem turned toward her. “I actually called the clinic and asked them to do some shuffling, if you’re okay with that.” He smiled at the young couple. “Can I borrow Carly for a few minutes?”
“Oh, of course.”
Her stomach dropped to the floor of her abdomen. What on earth could he want? Oh, God, hopefully he wasn’t going to rehash last night or warn her that business and pleasure were to remain strictly separate. Not that she was ever going to sleep with him again.
Last night had been too...
Earth-shattering. There was no other word for it.
Plus there was that embarrassing little detail of her forgotten hairbrush. She’d left it on his bathroom counter, dragging it quickly through her hair before she exited the building. She hoped he’d just throw it in the trash bin rather than bring up anything about what had happened.
Feeling like she was trudging through some kind of thick sludge, she made her way to the door and went through it, letting it close behind her.
Adem looked neither happy nor unhappy, although she sensed a wariness in him that hadn’t been there last night. Of course, she probably matched him in that department.
And that wasn’t the only department in which they matched.
Oh Lord, Carly, knock it off! He says a few words in a different language and you’re swooning at his feet.
No, she’d been swooning long before that.
But it stopped right here. Right now.
She jumped in first, not giving him a chance to say anything. “Look, if this is about the...um... London Eye incident—” Could she possibly think of a worse euphemism? “Then don’t worry about it. I’m not expecting any more tours or anything else, so don’t worry.”
One corner of his mouth went up. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, but now that you’ve brought it up...” He went over to the nurses’ station and picked up a handled paper bag. It was a lot bigger than what would be needed for a hairbrush. And it looked heavier.
“I’m not sure—”
“The restaurant knows me and opted to have our meals put into take-away boxes, which they sent to the apartment building. My doorman had them waiting in the refrigerator this morning. This is yours.”
Her face turned to fire. Had the proprietors boxed uneaten meals for him in the past? And worse, they had to have known exactly why they’d skated out of there so fast. “How often do they have to do that for you?”
Adem frowned, the coming together of his brows erasing any trace of that sexy smile. “Never. They assumed one of us was ill.”
She’d missed the mark by a mile on that one.
Her eyes closed. “Oh God, Adem, I’m sorry. It’s just been a...” What could she say? A long night? A once in a lifetime event? An event that was never happening again?
“Hey, I understand. You also left something else, but I left the flat in such a hurry I forgot to bring it.”
He left in a hurry? Why?
“Not a problem. I have extras at home. I don’t need it back.”
“How often does that happen?” he mimicked her words, but the frown had faded and the lightness was back in his voice.
She laughed. “Same as you. Never. So are we good?”
“If we can both put this behind us, then I would say yes.”
Said as if he’d already done exactly that. It might be a little more difficult for her, but she was sure if she worked hard enough at it, she could forget about last night.
She hoped.
And if she couldn’t?
Well, Adem’s implication was that if she couldn’t, then all would not be good between them. So she would have to make that happen. Somehow.
She took the bag from him and held it between them as if that would somehow magically jump-start the process of forgetting. “So when is the meeting this morning? And will the clinic be able to ‘shuffle’ things? I’m pretty sure I had two appointments, and if someone goes into labor, I’ll have to go.”
“If that happens, we can meet later and go over what the team decides. But ideally, you know Naomi better than anyone else on the team. I’m hoping you can let us know if we miss anything important.”
“Thank you. I really want to be there for her until the end. And she wants me there. You heard her yesterday.”
“Yes. And I want you to be in the operating room with us. I think she’ll be reassured if she knows you’re close by.”
He wanted her there while he performed the surgery? She would have to digest that bit of information later. Her grip tightened on the handles of the bag between them.
Deciding to change the subject, she wiggled the sack. “Do I have time to go home and change?” She’d been planning to swing by her place on her way to the clinic. He might be fresh as a daisy, but even with her shower, she needed some clean clothes. And to do something with her hair.
“The meeting is at ten, so you have about two hours.”
Plenty of time. “Okay, I’ll be back, or will let you know if there’s a problem with one of my patients.”
“See you at ten, then.”
“Are you going back in there?” She nodded at the door behind her.
“Yes, I want to go over a few things and let her know what to expect, if we go ahead with surgery.”
“Great, if you could tell her I’ll see her later on today, I’d appreciate it.”
“I will.”
She had two hours before the meeting. Two hours to change and somehow figure out a way to deal with him on a daily basis without feeling awkward.
And the best way she could do that was eat the food in this bag tonight, so it wouldn’t be hanging around her house longer than necessary.
Once that happened, she hoped—hoped!—that she and Adem would be able to move back to where they were before this all started. She would retreat like a turtle, going back to the safety of her cautious little life. And next time she was tempted by someone like Adem, hopefully she would be a little wiser about giving in.
* * *
Basir and his wife sat in his office. Adem wasn’t exactly sure what this meeting was about, but his brother assured him it was important.
It must be for him to leave the restaurant. But something he couldn’t tell him over the phone? And why was Adeline here?
His chest tightened as a thought hit him. Had the tumor come back? Adem hadn’t asked about the periodic tests his brother had done.
“Is everything okay?”
Basir and Adeline glanced at each other, making the sense of foreboding grow.
Until she giggled. The unexpected sound made him blink, reminding him of the way Carly had laughed in his apartment. But it also served to wash away that sense of impending doom.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Seeing his brother healthy and happy was good for his soul and made him feel he’d done the right thing in taking Basir under his wing all those years ago. Whatever irritation he’d felt the other day faded away.
He should be glad for him. Truly.
“We came to ask you something.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
“We’re looking for a midwife,” Basir said.
His heart seized for a minute before realizing they weren’t talking about Carly.
“Sorry?”
