Knight on the Children's Ward

by Carol Marinelli

  She wanted more—and not just for herself, so she pulled at her own T-shirt till all she wore was a bra. Then she didn’t care what she was wearing. She could feel his ragged breathing on her tender skin and sensed her pleasure was his.

  He was unshaved, and she was tender, so she had to push him back, just once, and yet she so much wanted him to go on.

  And he dived in again, but she was still too tender.

  So she pulled at his jodhpurs and freed him instead.

  He was divine, his black curls neat and manicured, the erection glorious and dark, so that she had to touch. Her fingers stroked, guided, and he was there at her entrance, moistening it a little. It was so fierce to look at, yet on contact more gentle than his lips.

  ‘Please…’ She was so close to coming she lifted her hips.

  ‘They’re in there…’ He was gesturing to the backpack, a lifetime away, or more like ten metres, but it was a distance that was too far to fathom. He might just as well have left the condoms in the bathroom.

  It was the most delicious tease of sex to come. He was stroking against her and she was purring, her hips rising, begging that he fill her and for it not to stop.

  ‘Just a little way…’ Her voice was throaty, and he stared down at her, so pink and swollen. How could he not? He entered her just a little.

  He was kneeling up, holding her buttocks, and his eyes roamed her body. He thought he would come. She was all blonde and tumbled, and in underwear that would make working beside her now close to impossible, because if he even pictured her in that… He pushed it in just a little bit more as Annika—shy, guarded Annika—gave him a bold, wanton smile that had his heart hammering. He pulled down the straps on her bra and freed her breasts, and she boldly took his head and led him there. She kissed his temple as he suckled her. He moved within her till he wanted more than just a little way, and so too did she.

  He leant back and guided her, up and down his length. She had never felt more pliant, moving as his hands guided her. She could see his dark skin against her paleness, and she felt as if she were climbing out of her mind and watching them, released from inhibition. She cried out, could see her thighs trembling, her back arching. Then she climbed back into her body and felt the deep throb of an orgasm that didn’t abate. It swelled and rolled like an ocean, took away her breath and dragged her under, and she said his name, thought she swore. Still he was pounding within her, so fast and hard that even as her orgasm faded she thought it would happen again.

  And it did—because he was mindful. Just as he satisfied her he gave in, pulled out of her warmth and shivered outside her. She watched. It was startling and beautiful and intimate.

  Their intimacy shocked her.

  It shocked her that this was okay, that they were okay, that they could do all that and afterwards he could just pull her to him.

  They lay for a long time in delicious silence, and all Ross knew was that they had completely crossed a line—it wasn’t about condoms, or trips to Spain, or families, or all things confusing.

  It was, in that moment, incredibly simple.

  They were both home.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘YOU might want to get dressed…’ They were both half dozing when Ross heard the crunch of tyres. ‘I think we’ve got visitors.’

  And, though they were miles from being seen, Annika was horrified. As she dressed quickly Ross took his time and laughed. She tripped over herself pulling on her jodhpurs.

  ‘No one can see,’ he assured her.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘My family, probably…’ Ross said, and then there were four blasts of a horn, which must have confirmed his assumption because he nodded. ‘There’s no rush; they’ll wait.’

  ‘I’ll go home.’ Annika was dressed now. The horses were close by, and she would put up with any pain just to make it to the safety of her car. ‘I’ll just say a quick hello and then go.’

  ‘Don’t rush off.’ For the first time ever he looked uncomfortable.

  ‘What will they think, though?’ Annika asked, because if her mother had turned up suddenly on a Sunday evening to find a man at her home she would think plenty—and no doubt say it too.

  ‘That I’ve got a friend over for the afternoon,’ Ross said, but she knew he was uncomfortable.

  As they rode back her heart was hammering in her chest—especially when another car pulled up and several more Wyatt family members piled out. His father was very formal, his sisters both much paler in colouring than Ross, and his mother, Estella, was raven-haired and glamorous. Grandchildren were unloaded from the car. His sisters said hi and bye, and relieved them of their horses before heading out for a ride in what was left of the sun.

  ‘Hi, Imelda!’

  The sun must have gone behind a cloud, because it was decidedly chilly.

  ‘This is Annika,’ Ross said evenly. ‘She’s a friend from the hospital. Iosef’s sister…’

  ‘Oh, my mistake.’ His mother gave a grim smile. ‘It’s just with the blonde hair, and given that she’s wearing Imelda’s things, you’ll forgive me for being confused.’

  Ross’s brain lurched, because never before had his mother shown her claws.

  She had never been anything other than a friend to him, but now she was stomping inside. A row that had never before happened between them was about to start—and it was terrible timing, because he had to deal with Annika as well.

  ‘Imelda?’

  ‘My ex,’ Ross said.

  ‘How ex?’

  ‘A few weeks.’

  And she wasn’t happy with that, so she demanded dates and he told her.

  ‘Was there time to change the sheets?’

  ‘Annika, I never said I didn’t have a past.’

  ‘And I’m standing here dressed in her things!’

  ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds…’

  ‘It’s worse,’ Annika said. ‘Can you get my keys?’

  ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘What—do you expect me to go in and make small talk with your family? Can you please go and get my things?’

  It was like two patients collapsing simultaneously at work. Two blistering things he had to deal with.

  Annika refused to bend—she wanted her keys and no more.

  Ross stomped into the house.

  ‘What the hell?’ His voice was a roar. ‘How dare you do that to her?’

  ‘She’ll thank me!’ Estella shouted. ‘And don’t, Reyes—don’t even try to justify it to me. “I’ve got to sort myself out.” “I want to find myself.” “I’m not getting involved with anyone…”’ She hurled back everything he had said, and then she called him a cabrón too! He vaguely remembered it meant a bastard. ‘I had Imelda on the phone last night, and again this morning. You shred these girls’ hearts and we’re supposed to say nothing?’

  ‘Annika’s different!’

  ‘Oh, it’s different this time, is it?’ Estella shouted, and the windows were open, so Ross knew Annika could hear. ‘Because apparently you said that to Imelda too!’

  And then she really let him have it.

  Really!

  She called him every name she could think of. Later, Ross would realise that she had probably been talking to Reyes senior. Every bit of hurt his biological father had caused his mother, all the shame, anger and fury that had never come out, had chosen that afternoon to do so.

  And his time was up. Annika was storming through the house, finding her keys for herself as his mother continued unabated.

  Ross raced out behind her to the car.

  ‘It’s not that bad…’

  ‘Really?’ Annika gave him a wide-eyed look as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘From the sounds inside your home, you’re the only who thinks that way.’

  ‘You’re just going to drive off…?’ He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t like rows, but he didn’t walk away from them either. ‘All that’s happened between us and you’ll just let it go…?’

  ‘Watc
h me!’ Annika said, and she did just that. She gunned the car down his drive, still dressed in Imelda’s things. His mother’s words about her own son still ringing in her ears.

  It was only when she went into her flat, kicked off her boots and ripped off those clothes that she calmed down.

  Well, she didn’t calm down, exactly, but she realised it wasn’t that she had been wearing Imelda’s things, or what his mother had said, or anything straightforward that had made her so angry. It was that, just like her family, he had fed her a half-truth.

  And, as she had with her family, she had been foolish enough to trust him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ELSIE was right—you should never let the sun go down on a row, because as the days moved on life got more complicated. It was cold and lonely up there on her high horse, and next Tuesday Ross flew out to Spain. More importantly, her midway report on her time with the children’s ward was less than impressive, and she was considering the very real good she could do working on the family foundation board.

  She wanted his wisdom.

  She attempted a smile, even tried to strike up a conversation. She finally resorted to wearing the awful wizard apron that always garnered comment. But Ross didn’t bat an eye.

  Because Ross was sulking too.

  Yes, he’d messed up, but the fact that she hadn’t let him explain incensed him. His mother, two minutes after Annika had left, had burst into tears, and George had had to give her a brandy.

  Then George, who had always been a touch lacking in the emotion department, had started to cry and revealed he was dreading losing his son!

  Ross had problems too!

  So he ignored her—wished he could stop thinking about her, but ignored her.

  Even on Saturday.

  Even as she left the ward, still he didn’t look up.

  ‘Enjoy the ball!’ Caroline called. ‘You can tell us all about it tomorrow.’

  ‘I will,’ Annika said. ‘See you then.’

  He could feel her eyes on the top of his head as he carried on writing his notes.

  ‘See you, Ross.’

  Consultants didn’t need to look up; he just gave her a very clipped response as he continued to write.

  ‘Yep.’

  Annika consoled herself that this was progress.

  ‘You’re not working this afternoon, are you?’ Dianne frowned as Annika came into the office.

  ‘No,’ Annika said. ‘I just popped in to check my roster.’

  It was a lie and everyone knew it. She wasn’t due for a shift for another week, and anyway she could have rung to check. She had, to her mother’s disgust, worked on the children’s ward this morning, but they had let her go home early. Instead of taking advantage of those extra two hours, and racing to her mother’s to have her hair put up and her make-up applied for the ball, she’d popped in to check her roster.

  ‘How’s Elsie?’ Annika asked. ‘I rang yesterday and the GP was coming in…’

  ‘She’s not doing so well, Annika,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s got another UTI, and he thinks she might have had an infarct.’

  ‘Is she in hospital?’

  ‘She’s here,’ Dianne said, ‘and we’re making her as comfortable as we can. Why don’t you go in and see her?’

  Annika did. Elsie wasn’t particularly confused, but she didn’t recognize Annika out of uniform.

  ‘Is any family coming?’ Annika asked Dianne.

  ‘Her daughter’s in Western Australia, and she’s seventy,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s asked that we keep her informed.’

  Annika sat with Elsie for a little while longer, but her phone kept going off, which disturbed the old lady, so in the end Annika kissed Elsie goodbye and asked Dianne if she could ring later.

  ‘Of course,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s your friend.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  STARING out of her old bedroom window, Annika felt the knot in her stomach tighten at the sight of the luxury cars waiting lined up in the driveway.

  She could hear chatter and laughter downstairs and was loath to go down—but then someone knocked at the door.

  ‘Only me!’ Annie, her sister-in-law, popped her head round and then came in. ‘You look stunning, Annika.’

  ‘I don’t feel it.’ She stared in the mirror at the curled blonde ringlets, at the rouge, lipstick, nails and the thousands of dollars worth of velvet that hugged her body and felt like ripping it off.

  ‘But you look gorgeous,’ Annie protested.

  How did Annie balance it? Annika wondered. She had probably spent half an hour getting ready. Her dark curls were damp at the ends, and she was pulling on a pair of stockings as she chatted. Her breasts, huge from feeding little Rebecca, were spilling out her simple black dress. And her cheeks had a glow that no amount of blusher could produce—no doubt there was a very good reason why she and Iosef were so late arriving for pre-dinner drinks!

  ‘It’s going to be fun!’ Annie insisted. ‘Iosef was dreading it too, but I’ve had a fiddle and we’re on the poor table.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Away from the bigwigs!’ Annie said gleefully. ‘Well, we’re not sitting with the major sponsors of the night.’

  And then Annie was serious.

  ‘Iosef meant it when he said if you needed a hand.’

  ‘I cashed the cheque.’

  ‘We meant with your studies.’ Annie blew her fringe out of her eyes. Iosef’s family were all impossible—this little sister too. There was a wall that Annie had tried to chip away at, but she’d never even made a dint. ‘I know it must be hell for you now—finding out what your mother did…’

  ‘Had she not…’ Annika’s blue eyes glittered dangerously ‘…your beloved Iosef wouldn’t be here. Do you ever think of that when you’re so busy hating her?’

  ‘Annika, please, let us help you.’

  ‘No!’ Annika was sick of Annie—sick of the lot of them telling her how she felt. ‘I don’t need your help. I’m handing in my notice, and you’ll get your money back. All my mother did was try and look after her family—well, now it’s my turn to look after her!’

  She stepped out of the car and smiled for the cameras. She stood with her mother and smiled ever brighter, and then she walked through the hotel foyer and they were guided to the glittering pre-dinner drinks reception.

  Diamonds and rare gems glittered from throats and ears, and people sipped on the finest champagne. Annika dazzled, because that was what was expected of her, but it made no sense.

  Hundreds of thousands would have been spent on tonight.

  Aside from the luxury hotel and the fine catering, money would have been poured into dresses, suits, jewels, hairdressers, beauticians, prizes and promotion. All to support a cluster of orphanages the Kolovskys had recently started raising funds for.

  All this money spent, all this gluttony, to support the impoverished.

  Sometimes, to Annika, it seemed obscene.

  ‘You have to spend it to make it,’ her mother had said.

  ‘Annika…’ Her mother was at her most socially vigilant. Everything about tonight had to be perfect. The Kolovskys had to be seen at their very best—and that included the daughter. ‘This is Zakahr Belenki, our guest speaker…’

  ‘Zdravstvujte,’ he greeted her formally, in Russian, and Annika responded likewise, but she was relieved when he reverted to English.

  He was a Detsky Dom boy made good—a self-made billionaire and the jewel in the crown that was tonight. He poured numerous funds into this charity, but he was, Zakahr said, keen to raise awareness, which was why he had flown to the other side of the world for this ball.

  This, Nina explained, was what tonight could achieve, proof of the good they could do. But though Zakahr nodded and answered politely to her, his grey eyes were cold, his responses slightly scathing.

  ‘I’ve heard marvellous things about your outreach programme!’ Annika attempted.

  ‘What things?’ Zakahr asked with a slight sm
irk, but Annika had done her homework and spoke with him about the soup kitchen and the drop-in centre, and the regular health checks available for the street children. She had heard that Zakahr was also implementing a casual education programme, with access to computers…

  ‘We would love to support that,’ Nina gushed, and then dashed off.

  ‘Tell me, Annika?’ Zakahr said when they were alone. ‘How much do you think it costs to clear a conscience?’

  She looked into the cool grey eyes that seemed to see right into her soul and felt as if a hand was squeezing her throat, but Zakahr just smiled.

  ‘I think our support for the education programme is assured,’ she said.

  He knew, and he knew, and it made her feel sick.

  Soon everyone would know, and she could hardly stand it. She wanted to hide, to step off the world till it all blew over, but somehow she had to live through it and be there for her mother too.

  ‘Excuse me…’ She turned to go, to escape to the loo, to get away from the throng—except there was no escape tonight, because she collided into a chest and, though she didn’t see his face for a second, the scent of him told her that a difficult night had just become impossible.

  ‘Ross.’ Annika swallowed hard, looked up, and almost wished she hadn’t.

  Always she had considered him beautiful; tonight he was devastatingly handsome.

  He was in a dinner suit, his long black hair slicked back, his tie knotted perfectly, his shirt gleaming against his dark skin, his earring glittering. His face was, for the first time, completely cleanshaven. She looked for the trademark mockery, except there was none.

  ‘How come…?’ She shook her head. She had never for a second factored him into tonight, had never considered that their worlds might collide here.

  ‘I work in the orphanages with your brother.’ Ross shrugged. ‘It’s a very good cause.’

  ‘Of course.’ Annika swallowed. ‘But…’ She didn’t continue. How could she? This was her world, and she had never envisaged him entering it.