by Sue MacKay
Kerry pushed out of her chair. Tom thought she looked exhausted. It must be draining, holding down a demanding job and raising two three-year-olds. He had an idea.
‘Why don’t you and Craig book a weekend somewhere warm and romantic, and I’ll look after the twins?’ That was something he could easily do, and he’d enjoy spending time with his goddaughters. They were the closest he had to family. A lump closed his throat. Family. He shivered. The room had gone cold.
‘We might take you up on that.’
‘I mean it.’ Tom reached for his heavy ski jacket. ‘Think I’ll go outside for a walk.’
‘You’re going to wear a track around the hospital soon. I’ve seen you out there a lot this week.’
‘Just like to get some fresh air.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Kerry got in the last word.
The air had icicles in it. Tom shivered, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his mind already turning to Fiona. As if he’d ever actually stopped thinking about her. Ever since that moment in the hot pools that afternoon he’d forgotten his determination to stay professional. When she’d leaned her body against his he’d gone hard in an instant. He’d seen the desire in her eyes, known that familiar sultry look meant she was hot for him. And he’d wanted her. Not just to make love to, but to hold and to cherish, for ever and a day.
‘Hey, Doc, mind if I join you?’ Jacob Clark appeared out of the gloom. ‘I came out for a break from Sophie and all the medical stuff. Believe it or not, I hate being in hospitals. Never liked them.’
‘A lot of people feel like that.’ Usually because of something unpleasant they or a loved one had experienced in the past. Tom wondered what had happened to Jacob, but didn’t ask.
They walked along the meandering paths, talking about the latest rugby match, then about trout fishing.
‘There’s plenty of trout in the rivers around here,’ Tom told the other man. ‘You should give it a go while you’re here, if you’re keen.’
‘Another time, maybe. This week’s all about getting Sophie sorted.’
‘I think she’ll be very pleased with the results of her surgery once the swelling goes down.’
‘It’s all the other changes that I can’t quite grasp. Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled. It’s just that I hadn’t ever expected to see her laughing and talking non-stop again. Sophie’s suddenly like she used to be.’ There was wonder in Jacob’s voice.
‘She’s happy.’ Tom knew exactly who to thank for it. Fiona.
‘Yes, that’s it. It can’t just be because she’s had her operation, because at the moment her face is so swollen and bruised she looks worse than when she arrived. I’d have thought she’d be hiding under her pillows.’
There was a softening in Tom’s muscles. ‘Fiona happened, that’s what. She won’t let Sophie wallow in self-pity. Did you know that today she had Sophie entertaining two of the younger patients? Apparently that worked so well more little ones wanted Sophie to read to them.’
‘My girl’s confidence has been growing steadily since we came here. It’s as though Fiona looks at the whole picture, not just the medical problem.’
Tom agreed. ‘We need more people like her around here.’
He needed her around here. Never mind the hospital and the patients. He needed her.
Because he loved her! Had never stopped loving her.
Living without her had been hell. The innumerable nights he’d lain awake, willing her to come back. It had taken years to come to terms with his empty life, and immersing himself in hard work had been the only way to cope.
Jacob spoke through the darkening gloom. ‘I’d better go back inside. I promised I’d have dinner with Sophie. Thanks for listening to me, Tom.’
Tom turned for another circuit of the grounds, all the while thinking about how well he and Fiona worked together. Within the hospital community they had the same ethos. Each of them held the same need to care for those less fortunate, to provide the best medical care within their capabilities.
His toes stung when he kicked at the ice packed against the path. But it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Tipping his head back, he stared up at the black sky, begging the ache to stop, the torment of emotions to evaporate. He didn’t do letting go of his emotions. That had been his strength—keeping everything close.
It hadn’t worked with Fiona, though.
Dropping his head forward, he stumbled to a bench under an oak tree and sat, leaning with his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He ignored the cold wetness of the seat. What was a damp backside to a broken heart?
He watched the pictures flitting across his mind: scenes of their marriage; the good ones, the bad ones, even the ugly pieces. He felt the laughter and excitement, the anger and pain. All the integral parts of a relationship.
Finally his chattering teeth and the soul-deep cold brought him to his senses, and he found he’d finally let go his hold on all the agony that had been building since the day he’d lost Fiona, along with his beautiful son. For it might have been months later that Fiona had gone, but everything had begun falling apart the day of Liam’s death.
He loved Fi.
That had not changed. Would she believe him if he were to tell her? Would she even want to know? She had wanted to make love with him today. That much had been very evident. But that wasn’t the same as loving him.
He stood; his legs quivering, goosebumps raised on his skin. He needed to find Fiona. Not to tell her he loved her. That would be stirring up a wasps’ nest. But it was time to really talk to her, to find out what she wanted to do next.
Did they have a future together? Did he want that? He thought he did.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait another minute. He had to see her—explain himself. His feet slipped and skidded as he raced towards the cottage.
‘Fi!’ he called as he pushed open the front door.
Total silence greeted him. Her bedroom door was closed. His watch read nine-thirty. Had she gone to bed early? She’d been exhausted at the end of surgery.
His heart pounded so hard when he knocked on her door he thought his ribs would crack. What if she told him to get lost? He’d wasted too much time already. He needed this opportunity to explain himself.
The door opened a crack.
‘Tom.’
Her flat voice frightened him.
‘Can I come in?’
Chapter Ten
COMMON sense said no.
Fiona said yes.
Tom brushed past her as she held the door wider. He brought with him the cool night air. And a renewal of all the tension she’d felt in the pool earlier. One look at him and she was melting. Tugging the blanket tighter around her, she folded her arms across her breasts, trying to hold her desire at bay.
‘Cold?’ Tom asked, his eyes fixed on her face.
‘A bit.’ Which was blatantly untrue. Her cheeks glowed with heat. She scrutinised him back. ‘Why are you here?’
‘I needed to see you. To explain myself.’
A flicker of hope touched Fiona. Did this mean he was ready to talk about the issues surrounding them? Caution crept over her. What did she say next? She was afraid of getting it wrong, of turning him away because of another simple misunderstanding. Suddenly she was done with wanting to talk. The desire unfurling in her belly would not go back into hiding. It spread out, up and down, left and right. A throb began deep within her—a throb that would not be denied. To hell with talking. The time was past for that. They could talk until the sun came up, but they might not solve a darned thing.
She wanted Tom. Now. She’d deal with the consequences later.
But where and how to start? She was out of practice with everything when it came to men. Especially this one. All she knew was that she loved him and wanted to put things right—put things back the way they were before their marriage began disintegrating. They belonged together and she would fight for him.
She stepped closer, took his chille
d hand in her warm ones. ‘We had some good times, you and I.’ There had been magic in their touches, in their love. She needed that magic back. Raising her arms to his solid chest, she lifted on to her tiptoes and placed a kiss below his chin, on the very sensitive spot that had always elicited a swift response.
‘Yes, we did,’ Tom whispered.
Shutting her eyes, she placed another butterfly kiss on his jaw. And heard a deep groan.
‘Fi, I didn’t come to—’ Slowly, oh, so painfully slowly, his arms came up and wrapped her hard against him. His mouth found hers, his lips hot on her lips. His fingers dug into her hair, holding her head so he could kiss her thoroughly.
One taste of his mouth and she was lost. Completely. All week she’d been wanting words with this man. Now she couldn’t think of a single one. The world began and ended here, held in that kiss. A kiss that deleted the intervening years since she’d left. A kiss that sent thrills of desire sweeping through her body like water on a drought-stricken field. Her hands gripped the front of his jacket. Her knees became boneless, and she fell against Tom. Tom. Her one love. Her real love.
She kissed him back with all the passion and sorrow and lost love of six years. This wasn’t a kiss to entice him back to her; this was a kiss to give him everything she had to offer, to give him all of her.
He tasted as she remembered: hot and male.
His hands slid down her back, cupped her bottom, hugged her closer against him so his arousal pressed into her stomach.
The blanket slid to the floor as her hips rocked against him, his indrawn breath encouraging her further. Her trembling fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbled with the openings. As the shirt fell open she dropped her mouth to his chest. The intoxicating taste of his skin sent every nerve-ending in her body into orbit.
Her hands fiddled with the zip of his trousers, the hard bulge beneath distracting her. She rubbed him through the fabric, impatient with the stubborn zip, needing to touch him, to claim him back. Hot, raging hunger grabbed her.
‘I want your clothes off.’ But she couldn’t get the zip down.
She yanked his shirt out of the waistband. Ran her hands over his firm stomach, around his sides. Hot, silky skin against the palms of her hands. Heat zinged along her arms, down her body, signalling her feminine core to wake up. As her mouth followed the trail of her hand that heat built higher and higher, pummelling her with desire.
‘Let me.’ Tom’s hands were between them, tugging at the zip, shoving his trousers down past his hips. When they fell around his ankles he quickly stepped out of them and kicked them aside.
Fiona’s mouth dried at the sight of his long torso, dressed only in an open shirt. Beautiful. Sexy. ‘I need you.’
Her hunger grew and the trembling in her fingers spread throughout her entire body. Biting down on her bottom lip, she raised her eyes to meet his wild gaze. Passion raged across his face, darkened his eyes. Passion for her.
Tom tugged her tee shirt over her head, exposing her breasts; then his hands were everywhere, touching her hips, her thighs, covering her breasts. Branding her. His thumbs rubbed her nipples until she nearly screamed with longing. When he reached for the moist place between her legs she could have wept with anticipation. For a brief moment she hesitated, viewing a rush of sweet, exquisite memories.
But reality far outweighed memories.
Her mouth continued kissing his body until she hadn’t left any skin untouched, just as she’d wanted to do from the moment she’d first set eyes on him at the airstrip. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined this feverish reunion. Never would she have believed it possible their passion would survive so completely after all their difficulties.
And when his hands grasped her bottom she almost leapt into his arms, succumbing to the pleasures he created. When he lifted her up she hooked her legs around his waist. Her need for him was so great she thought she’d blow apart if he didn’t touch her sex soon. Now.
‘Tom, please don’t wait…’ She puffed the words out.
He turned, backed her against the wall. ‘As if I can.’
And then he was pushing into her. Hot bliss. Fiona’s fingers dug into Tom’s shoulders and her head tipped back as she took him deep inside. The rhythm built between them. Rapidly. Intensely. Explosively. Her body was no longer hers as she clung to the man she loved and felt him come inside her.
‘So much for talking.’ Tom’s outstretched legs cut across the kitchen, where he sat by the table, dressed only in jeans. ‘When you opened your bedroom door looking so tousled and beautiful I forgot everything I came about.’
Fiona looked at him and felt her heart slow. ‘I hope you’re not saying you regret making love.’
Disappointment tugged at her. Had she read too much into it because she loved him? Because she wanted him so much?
Tom looked shocked. ‘How can you even think that?’
‘I’ve been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster this week. None of this has been easy for either of us.’
The afterglow of their lovemaking was rapidly fading from his face. ‘I should’ve talked to you the day you arrived instead of putting it off. Truth? I should’ve talked to you years ago.’ He paused.
She waited, holding her breath.
‘There were times I nearly risked it, tried to tell you how I felt about Liam, my guilt, us. But I was so afraid that if I ever started I’d never stop. That I’d talk until I burned out and there’d be nothing left of me to go on with. That I’d have nothing to offer you.’
‘You had heaps to give me. I know how much I needed you to open up, but there’s more to you than being able to communicate with me. You’ve always been generous with your time, yourself, your intellect. Those are some of the reasons I loved you.’
His eyes widened briefly. His gaze was thoughtful, before he shook his head as though to rid it of something unpalatable. ‘Don’t, Fiona.’
Again that painful tightening of her stomach. He’d rebuffed her feelings in two words. Don’t, Fiona. Yet they’d just been very passionate and intimate in the most loving way. Now confusion took over her brain, pushing aside the sublime happiness she’d been experiencing since they’d made love.
She continued talking as though he hadn’t said that. ‘You were a rock for me. But I can see that I expected too much of you. I shouldn’t have pressed you to open up about what we were going through.’
‘It was impossible for me to give you what you wanted. But I’m sorry I let you down so badly.’
‘I think we let ourselves down more than anything.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I shouldn’t have run away. If I’d stayed and waited until you felt able to communicate with me, able to share your grief, everything might have turned out differently. I’m so sorry.’ She flicked her fingers across her thumb.
‘We also might have gone on for a long time hurting each other, never finding our way back to each other, and therefore still destroying ourselves.’
‘We’ll never know.’
‘We made a mess of things, didn’t we?’ Tom tipped his head to one side as he watched her. ‘I guess our love wasn’t as strong as we thought.’
A chill settled on her heart. So he had got over her. What else had she really expected? That he’d been waiting all these years for her to turn up and pick up where they’d left off? Was that what she’d wanted when she’d flown into Hanmer Springs the other day? Honestly? No. The most she’d hoped for was a reconciliation so they could become firm friends with a shared past.
Problem was it hadn’t taken long for her to want more.
Tom got up and crossed to the bench, where he picked up the kettle. She wished he’d put his shirt on again. That bare chest created a distraction she didn’t need right now. She tried to focus on his words and not his body.
He was saying, ‘I thought I was being strong—for you and me. When Liam died I believed I had to hold it all together to help you through your grief. But you didn’t want that. You wanted my soul
bared, and I’d never done that for anyone before. I was afraid you’d find me lacking. That if you saw how torn up I’d become, how big a mess inside, you’d stop loving me.’
Her heart ached for him, and for what she hadn’t seen at the time. She said, ‘You kept avoiding me, staying at work so late that I’d be asleep when you got home. Then you’d be gone again when I woke in the morning. I thought you didn’t want me any more.’
‘Of course I wanted you, but I didn’t know how to get through to you, how to handle you. I never seemed to be able to please you about anything. Staying at work became easier than going home. Then one day you were gone, and I’d lost my chance to fix things. Life became even worse. Hell, really. Liam followed me everywhere, haunting me with his big eyes, his gurgling laugh. You were right alongside him. Every time I went out the door to go to work I saw you—walking down the street with a baby in your arms, pushing a pram through the crowds on street corners, sitting in a café with Liam on your knees. I’d slam on the brakes, park the car haphazardly, and tear after you—only to find myself chasing a complete stranger. Finally I moved to Christchurch to get away from you both.’
‘Did we follow you?’
‘Occasionally you popped up, but as time went by it got easier. It helped that I was putting in such long hours that when I wasn’t working I was sleeping. And as the plans for this place began taking shape my life sort of settled into a routine. Don’t get me wrong. It was never the same. But it became liveable. I guess you can understand that.’
She sighed. ‘Yes. You function, and occasionally you enjoy, even laugh, but it’s like living with one limb missing.’
Very hard to cope.
Except she’d found that missing part again. Now she just had to work out how to reattach it.
