by Lucy Clark
Neither of them moved; neither of them seemed to be breathing. The world around them had come to a standstill, as though they’d somehow been able to press the pause button in order to concentrate on exactly what was flowing between them.
‘You smell really good.’ Her words were barely audible and he couldn’t help but stare at her perfectly shaped mouth, wondering if it would taste as good as it looked.
‘So do you,’ he returned.
‘Stop looking at me like that.’ CJ’s gaze was flicking between his eyes and his mouth and he realised in that one split moment that whatever it was he was feeling towards her—something that had no name and no real substance—was reciprocated. She could feel it, too.
‘I can’t seem to help myself.’
‘None of this makes any sense.’ Again her words were so softly spoken it was as though they were communicating telepathically.
‘I know.’
‘But it’s there. We’re not imagining this?’
‘If we are, then we’re both sharing the same dream.’
‘I want you to kiss me but if you do, I don’t know what it will mean and that just confuses me further.’
There it was again, that complete and utter sense of open honesty that summed up CJ’s entire personality. All her words did was to fan the fire deep within him, the fire that he hadn’t even realised had been reignited, the fire of desire, of passion, of need. How was it possible for his world to have been tipped upside down so fast?
‘I want to kiss you.’ He kept his gaze trained on her mouth as he spoke, shaking his head slowly from side to side. ‘I know it’s wrong and stupid and impulsive and confusing but the desire is there. I don’t know how or why...’ He breathed slowly as he closed the small distance between them, drawn to her as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He was still holding her hands, still touching her, and whether it was that combined with the pheromones surrounding them that propelled him to within the close proximity of her mouth, there didn’t seem to be any force there to stop him.
‘This is lunacy,’ she managed to whisper, right before his lips brushed a feather-light kiss to hers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MOMENT SEEMED to last for an eternity, yet in reality it was no longer than a split second. Ethan pulled back, unable to compute the different thoughts surging through his mind. He’d just kissed another woman. That alone was enough to help him ease back, to stare into her half-closed eyes and resist the dreamy message she was silently sending him to repeat the action. He wanted to do it again, to continue to explore the sweet secrets her mouth offered, but the fact remained that he’d kissed a woman who wasn’t Abigail and the realisation caused his gut to knot with guilt.
Dropping her hands as though burnt, he took a giant step back, almost tripping over the coffee table and knocking several magazines to the floor. To aid in covering his confusion and panic at what had just happened, he immediately bent down to retrieve the magazines, putting them back onto the table and taking another step away from her.
‘I’ll...uh...’ He pointed towards the door. ‘I’ll go get the car ready.’ With that, he gave her a wide berth before exiting through the front door. As he walked out, he heard Tania come back into the waiting room and realised how close they’d come to having their kiss witnessed.
What on earth had he been thinking? He hadn’t. That was the answer. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d allowed himself to get sidetracked, to relax, to let his guard down. ‘This is what happens when you don’t keep focused, when you listen to others and start to interact with the world.’ Ethan continued to mutter to himself as he walked across the road to CJ’s garage and unlocked the outer door.
His car. His beauty of a car. It had always been able to relax his stress. He glanced over to the workbench in the corner and saw a container of polishing cloths. Without further thought, he grabbed a cloth and began to rub it gently over the car’s body, as though wiping away his turbulent thoughts and re-setting his mind to exhibit a more professional demeanour.
He was here to do a job. He was here to look after the patients until CJ’s maternity leave finished. Where he’d been looking forward to spending time with her doing house calls this afternoon, he now longed for the time when he could do the house calls on his own. She would be at home, looking after her baby, and he would be either stuck in the consulting room or his bedroom, not daring to engage with her lest she should once again capture his attention with her dreamy green eyes and luscious smile.
‘I’m sorry, Abigail,’ he remarked as he threw the cloth back into the container and pulled the keys from his pocket. Yet as he slipped behind the wheel of the car, all he could think about was how much his wife had loathed the vehicle. She’d been angry about the time he’d spent with the car, calling herself a restoration widow. It had been an escape for him when their problems had become insurmountable. If he’d known how much she’d been suffering, would he have spent more time with her? And would it have made a difference?
He shook his head slowly as he buckled his seat belt and started the engine. He wondered if Abigail would be happy he’d kissed another woman, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about another woman, that he was eager to spend time with another woman? He really hoped so. But she’d probably be annoyed that he still loved the car. He loved to polish it, to tinker with the engine and to feel his tension decrease as he went on long drives.
As he reversed the car to the front of the clinic, he saw CJ come out, a medical treatment bag in her hands. Leaving the engine idling, he quickly climbed from the car and took the bag from her, placing it securely on the small back seat. Then he held her door and helped her into the car, clenching his jaw and doing his best to ignore the powerful surge of awareness that spread from his hands and up his arms, before entering his bloodstream.
She thanked him for his help and once they were both buckled in, he waited for directions. CJ provided them whilst tying a scarf around her hair and slipping her sunglasses into place. After that, they drove along in silence and apart from the occasional ‘Turn left at the next T-intersection,’ and other navigational instructions, they both seemed quite content to absorb the serenity of the drive.
When they finally arrived at their first patient’s house, Ethan stopped the car and turned the key to cut the ignition. The silence enveloped them but neither of them moved. CJ breathed deeply, then slipped off her scarf and sunglasses.
‘It really is an incredible machine.’ She stroked the dashboard. ‘Thank you for the relaxing drive,’ she told the car, then undid her seat belt and turned to look at Ethan. ‘And thank you for doing the steering part.’
His smile was instant and she felt the earlier tension that had surrounded them begin to abate. He’d brushed a kiss to her lips. It wasn’t as though he’d been making a pass at her but rather openly acknowledging that there were high levels of awareness pulsing between them. For CJ, that acknowledgement, that she wasn’t the only one experiencing those sensations, was enough...for now. Her focus needed to be elsewhere, especially after today’s ultrasound. The baby’s head was engaged, and could be born at any point within the next week.
‘Who’s first on the list?’ Ethan asked as he climbed from the car, quickly coming around to help her out.
‘Thanks. I’m looking forward to the day when I can get in and out of a car without such a hassle.’ He let go of her hand the instant she was standing and steady on her feet. Her smile faded and she glanced at him from beneath her lashes as he retrieved her bag. She needed to remain focused and professional so CJ cleared her throat and answered his question. ‘Molly Leighton. She’s almost sixty-two and she’s been suffering badly from stress. She’s been the manager of one of the larger vineyards for the past forty years. I keep suggesting she retire but she won’t hear it. She’s had high blood pressure, chest pain and a spate of mouth ulcers but—oh, you met
her husband the other day. Toby—the cleaner. The one swinging the floor polisher at Whitecorn District.
He nodded. ‘Manuka honey?’
‘Correct. Molly needs to slow down and smell the roses but instead she works herself into a frenzy. She almost didn’t speak to me again when I prescribed four weeks off work.’ CJ shook her head. ‘What that woman needs are some grandchildren to help her unwind but there’s no chance of that on the horizon.’
‘Let me guess. You’re going to let her help you with yours.’
‘And why not? I need help, Molly needs to slow down. It’s a win-win situation.’
‘And what about your child?’
‘It wins as well because it will be smothered with love.’ CJ shook her hair free in the wind, running her hands through the locks. He glanced across, instantly mesmerised by the way her hair was flowing gently in the breeze, the golden locks glinting in the sun, her long neck exposed in the autumn sunshine. Had she no idea how incredibly beautiful she was?
‘Shall we go in?’ Without waiting for him to answer, she walked up the front path and knocked on the door. It was flung open almost immediately by a woman dressed in a casual suit with her dark hair immaculate and her make-up perfect.
‘Come in, CJ. Oh, and you’ve brought the new Dr Janeway, too. Toby told me about meeting you.’ Molly ushered them both inside. ‘Tea? Coffee? I’ve made some fresh scones.’
‘That would be lovely,’ CJ responded at the same time Ethan refused. ‘Now, Ethan, you must try one of Molly’s scones, especially when they’re fresh from the oven. They are mouthwatering.’
She’d turned to face him as she spoke, so her back was to Molly. Her eyes conveyed an urgency that she wanted him to accept Molly’s offer. He smiled at their patient. ‘In that case, how could I possibly say no?’
Molly literally beamed. CJ hadn’t seen her smile like that in a very long time. As Molly headed to the kitchen, Ethan spread his hands wide, as though silently asking why she’d made him accept. ‘Cooking is the only thing that seems to be taking Molly’s mind off the fact that she’s not working. Besides, part of the reason for house calls is to provide a holistic approach to general practice medicine. Everywhere we go today, we’ll be force-fed food and drink, which...’ she rubbed her belly ‘...is good for the baby but bad for my bladder.’ CJ chuckled at her own joke but as Molly came back into the room, carrying a tray of scones and drinks, she quickly stopped.
They sat in the ‘good’ lounge room on plastic-covered sofa chairs, CJ willing Molly to relax. Molly’s recent tests had shown her mouth wasn’t the only place where an ulcer might be brewing.
‘Have all my test results come back?’ Molly asked, getting straight to the point.
‘Not yet but I’m fairly certain you do have an ulcer in your stomach.’
‘Might the manuka honey help that, too? After all, it’s worked extremely well for my mouth ulcers.’
‘Yes, so Toby was telling me. That’s great news.’
‘When can I go back to work? I’ve baked all the recipes in one book and am about to start on the next book. Toby’s complaining he’s starting to put on too much weight.’
‘I’m sorry, Molly, but if you return to work too soon, it might cause more problems. The last thing we want is for the ulcer to perforate. First, we need to start treatment for the ulcer and I can’t do that until the tests are confirmed.’
Molly crossed her arms and sighed huffily, clenching her jaw and shaking her head. Every muscle seemed to be clenched and CJ’s concern for the other woman’s blood pressure increased.
‘CJ, you were right.’ Ethan’s deep voice broke through the tension of Molly’s demeanour. ‘These scones are incredible. Molly, you’re a marvel in the kitchen.’ He smiled at their patient and CJ watched as the other woman instantly relaxed, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. Did he have this effect on all women?
‘Right. Let’s take your blood pressure and have a look at your mouth and throat. I’ll ring the path lab in Sydney to see how much longer those results will be.’
‘I can do that,’ Ethan offered. ‘I have contacts at the lab and might be able to put a rush on the results.’
Molly looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and when CJ took Molly’s blood pressure, she was pleasantly surprised at the lower BP rate. ‘Good. Much, much better. Whatever you’re doing is working.’
‘Looks as though I’ll be starting on savoury baking treats tomorrow,’ Molly sighed.
‘Well, if you ever find you have too many treats...’ CJ rubbed her belly ‘...the baby’s been quite famished of late so send them my way.’
Molly nodded. ‘I’ll make sure I do that.’
It wasn’t much longer before they took their leave and once they were back in the car and CJ had given Ethan directions, she thanked him for his help.
‘You were like a de-stressing machine for her. I think it’s mainly thanks to you that we’ll be getting delicious food from Molly.’ She put her scarf and sunglasses back on but as the clouds above were starting to darken a little, Ethan decided to put the soft top up just in case.
‘It’s good to see you still have a healthy appetite,’ he remarked. ‘Many women don’t eat that much during their last few weeks of pregnancy.’
CJ chuckled. ‘No such luck with me. Baby is definitely hungry all the time.’
He smiled. ‘Every pregnancy is different.’ He turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred to life. ‘Where to next?’ CJ gave him directions to the next house call, which was a good fifteen-minute drive away. ‘I don’t mind,’ he stated as he started the engine once more. This time, with the soft top up, it was easier for them to hear each other speak. ‘Getting to drive around these roads with the incredible scenery is one perk of the job I’m definitely enjoying.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ she responded, now curious to discover what he thought might be other perks of the job. Was kissing her one of them? She cleared her thoughts and focused on their next patient. ‘This next case is concerning but also interesting. Margaret is thirty-two weeks pregnant and, from the tests I’ve run, I’m fairly sure the baby has foetal alcohol syndrome.’
‘Really?’ The tone in his voice instantly changed, and as he spoke, his words were clipped and direct. ‘I’ve had some experience with this.’
‘You have?’ She was surprised. ‘You’ve had a patient with foetal alcohol syndrome? Huh.’
‘She wasn’t a patient,’ he remarked quickly. ‘Do you have a copy of the test results here?’
CJ nodded. ‘I’ve got all the files on the patients we’re seeing today on my tablet computer.’ She tried to reach into the back to the medical bag and eventually succeeded, pulling out the device and turning it on. As they drove along, she read out Margaret’s most recent test results. ‘Again, I’m waiting to hear back on the last round of tests, which will hopefully confirm my suspicions.’
‘What’s her background?’
‘Margaret works at her parents’ winery, and has been drinking wine since she was about thirteen. Not excessively back then, and always under her parents’ control.’
‘Do they drink?’
‘Yes. Again, not excessively but constantly.’
‘Clearly you think the baby’s in danger?’
‘I’m not sure. I only know what I’ve read in the information published and that’s still not conclusive. If we could figure out a way to get Margaret to cut down the drinking, it would help. She says she’s not drinking as much as before but I’m concerned.’
‘Is she married?’
‘Yes, but her parents and husband have insisted she quit work for the moment and concentrate on the baby. She had a lot of bleeding early on in the pregnancy,’ CJ added by way of explanation. ‘They didn’t want her to miscarry but now I’m concerned that they’ve wrapped Margaret so tight in the proverbia
l cotton wool that the poor woman isn’t able to do anything now.’
‘Very over-protective?’
‘Yes, and I think the solitude might be driving her crazy at the moment because of picking season. Both her husband and her parents are working longer hours than usual.
‘I’ve been monitoring Margaret in between her visits to the obstetrician, and as you’re helping with my list, that job will now fall to you, hence why it’s important you meet her.’
‘Have you raised your concerns with the obstetrician?’
‘Of course, and between the two of us we’re monitoring the situation closely. However, I would really value your opinion, too.’ She pointed. ‘Go left up here.’
He turned the car into a long, rambling driveway that was lined with trees. At the end of the driveway was a large, architecturally designed modern homestead, with all sorts of different angles here and there. ‘Interesting.’
‘It may look odd from out here but inside every room affords an exceptional view of the vineyard.’
‘This is Margaret’s house?’ He brought the car to a halt in the curved gravel drive and quickly went around to help CJ out.
‘Her family’s house. Margaret and her husband live in the west wing of the house and her parents in the east wing.’
‘Let’s see what we’re faced with,’ he muttered, after he’d grabbed the medical bag and they’d headed up the curved steps to the front door, CJ hanging onto the handrail to assist her ascent.
‘Dr Nicholls,’ Margaret said with forced joviality upon opening the door. ‘What an unpleasant surprise.’
CJ glanced briefly at Ethan and then back at their patient. Margaret leaned heavily on the door before letting go and staggering slightly away from them. This wasn’t good.
‘Come to check up on me, no doubt. See that I’m doing the right thing. You shouldn’t have worried. I have my husband, my parents, my in-laws all checking up on me.’ Margaret had gone into the living room and sat down on the leather lounge. There was half a glass of wine on the small table in front of her. CJ sighed and followed, opening the medical bag and taking out the blood-pressure monitor.
