Swept Away by the Seductive Stranger

by Amy Andrews

  She’d know what to do.

  A mix of floral aromas tickled his senses as he waited and his gaze was drawn to the beauty of Alf’s garden. It drifted to the arbour that arched over the gate and was covered in climbing roses, and he wondered if these were the ones that Lizzy liked so much. They were pretty, a champagne colour and smaller than the ones growing on individual bushes. Dainty and feminine. Very much like her.

  An idea hit him then and he smiled as he strode back into the house and searched the kitchen for a pair of scissors. Maybe filling her room with the aroma of her beloved roses could be his contribution?

  Who knew what she could still hear, see and smell?

  Locating some scissors in a drawer, he headed back out, stopping at the first bush near the front porch and snipping one of the blooms. The front path was lined with bushes and as he had no real idea what he was doing, apart from avoiding the thorns, he figured he might as well snip one from each. Clearly arranging flowers wasn’t his forte but they didn’t need to be pretty—they just needed to provide some joy and, hopefully, some peace.

  For Alf as well as Lizzy.

  He was halfway through when Felicity pulled up. The surge of relief that flooded his chest flowed cool and electric through his veins.

  ‘Hi,’ she said as she pushed open the gate and walked under the arbour.

  ‘Hi.’ She was in strappy sandals, denim shorts that came to just above her knee and a tank top. She was Flick and she was exactly who he needed. ‘I’m sorry for calling you for this—’

  She shook her head, interrupting his apology, her loose ponytail brushing back and forth between her shoulder blades. ‘You did the right thing. Is she...?’

  ‘No,’ he assured her quickly, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. ‘She’s unconscious but hanging on. Alf’s family are driving up from Adelaide. I thought he needed a familiar face to wait with him until they got here.’

  ‘Of course.’ She gave him a sad smile, her expression full of empathy. ‘What happened?’

  ‘We were all chatting out in the back garden. Alf and I left Lizzy and Bailey there, watching a couple of the magpies they feed frolicking in the sprinkler, so he could take me in and show me some of his wines. We’d been gone a couple of minutes when Bailey started to bark.’ Callum wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. ‘Alf knew straight away. When we got to her she was slumped in the wheelchair, unconscious.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she murmured. ‘Poor Mr Dunnich.’

  ‘He’s been really good. Stoic, you know?’ Callum had no idea how long it would last.

  ‘Yes, he’s country down to his bootstraps. And what about you?’ she asked, peering at him hard as if she was trying to see behind his dark shades. ‘Are you okay?’

  The question surprised him. No colleague had ever asked him if he was okay over a work situation. Sometimes things went wrong and you just got on with it.

  But, as he’d learned over the last three weeks, that wasn’t the way they did things in Vickers Hill.

  ‘Yes. Thanks.’ It felt surprisingly good to have been asked. He may not have known the Dunniches for long but he’d been incredibly moved by Alf’s gentleness as he’d laid Lizzy on the bed and stroked her hair. ‘Better now you’re here.’

  Maybe that was one of the things he wasn’t allowed to say but it was true. And not in a hey, baby way. In a human way. She knew Alf and Lizzy and she knew him.

  They were all connected.

  She glanced at the scissors in his hands and the stems he’d already picked. ‘I didn’t know what else to do,’ he said. ‘All I really know about her is how much she loves roses so I figured...’

  Overly bright eyes smiled at him. ‘I think that’s a really beautiful thing to do. Lizzy would love that.’

  Callum’s chest swelled. He’d felt like a clumsy fool with his black thumb cutting pretty roses in someone else’s garden—completely conspicuous. But Felicity’s compliment validated his instincts.

  ‘You can leave them in the kitchen if you want. I’ll find a vase for them in a bit.’

  ‘I can do it,’ Callum dismissed.

  A tiny frown caused a little V between her brows. ‘Oh...okay, sure. Thanks.’

  It was Callum’s turn to frown. She didn’t sound so sure and he certainly didn’t know the etiquette here. ‘Is it? Okay?’

  ‘Of course. I just...didn’t think you’d want to stick around. You don’t have to, you know. I’ve got this.’

  She was letting him off the hook. Three weeks ago Callum would have taken that offer and run with it. Left the nurse to deal with relatives and the patient comfort stuff.

  But he wasn’t that person any more. Thanks to her.

  ‘I’d like to stay...if you don’t think it’s intruding.’

  ‘That would be great,’ she said, her smile gentle, her hand sliding onto his arm and giving it a pat.

  Callum glanced at it, surprised at how comforting it was. ‘Is she in the bedroom?’ He nodded and she edged around him, her hand dropping away. ‘I’ll see you in there,’ she murmured.

  He watched her disappear inside the house, the imprint of her hand still marking his skin. Kind of like the way she’d marked his life. In just a few short weeks the girl from the train had taught him more about himself than he’d learned in thirty-plus years. More about being a doctor. More about the things that actually mattered.

  Whatever did or didn’t happen between them he knew one thing for sure—he was never going to forget Felicity Mitchell.

  * * *

  Callum stepped into the room fifteen minutes later. He’d found a vase under the sink and arranged the blooms. It was never going to win a floral arrangement competition but it wasn’t bad for his first time.

  He placed them on an old-fashioned dressing table.

  ‘Thanks, Doc,’ Alf said. He was sitting on a chair beside the bed, holding his wife’s hand. Felicity was sitting next to Alf, holding his hand. ‘Lizzy loves her roses, don’t you, darlin’?’ he asked, patting her hand a couple of times.

  ‘Do you remember that time Bailey dug up those new bushes she’d planted when he was a puppy?’ Felicity asked. ‘And how hard Bailey worked to get back into her good graces.’

  Alf chuckled. Bailey, who was lying on the bed with Lizzy, whined and thumped his tail at the mention of his name but he didn’t move his head from Lizzy’s thigh.

  Callum listened for the next couple of hours as Alf regaled them with stories about Lizzy and their life together. There was so much humour and love in every one but Alf’s voice often cracked and Callum could only guess how hard it was for him to watch his beloved wife slipping away.

  Her respirations changed as they chatted in the bedroom and by the time the first family members arrived Lizzy’s breathing had slowed right down. There were more due to arrive over the course of the afternoon and Alf was praying that everyone could get here before the end, but deep down Callum didn’t hold out much hope.

  Callum and Felicity moved out to the kitchen to give the family time together. They didn’t really talk much, just kept busy, making cups of tea and coffee and refilling them as often as required. At lunchtime Callum went out and bought some loaves of bread and sandwich fillers, which they turned into a couple of crammed platters, and later, for afternoon tea, they were able to rustle up enough home cooking to satisfy everyone.

  By the time Lizzy took her last breath at four o’clock, all the family that could be there were by her side. Callum marvelled at her staying power. He had clearly underestimated Alf’s wife. It was as if she’d been hanging on for all her family before passing away.

  They were washing up when Bailey howled. All the hairs on Callum’s nape stood on end. Felicity’s hands in the hot, sudsy water stilled. He waited for her to say something but she didn’t, she just stood in sile
nce for long moments. He wasn’t sure what he should do but he wanted to do something. To give her some comfort. He knew how close she was to Alf and Lizzy but she’d held herself together today. He’d seen how hard it had been, seen her rapid blinking on more than one occasion as she’d comforted an upset Alf.

  Tentatively, he slid an arm around her shoulders. She was stiff, like she might shatter into a thousand pieces, and for a moment he thought she was going to stay like that until he murmured, ‘I’m sorry.’ Then her shoulders suddenly slumped and her body leaned against his, her head resting on his biceps.

  He dropped a kiss on her honey-blonde hair and they stayed there for a long time as he gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

  A part of him wished he could do more but this, doing nothing, was somehow so much more intimate.

  It felt right.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FELICITY STARED OUT of the window of Callum’s car as he pulled up in front of her place and cut the engine. She’d offered to leave her car at Alf’s so the large extended family had an extra car to get around in the next few days, which had left Callum to drive her home.

  It was seven in the evening and the shadows of the gum trees in her front yard were just starting to lengthen. She and Callum had stuck around and notified all the right people and made the arrangements for Lizzy to be taken away. She’d wanted to free Alf and his family from the burden of it all so they could just grieve and hold each other.

  Alf’s ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do without her, Flick’ ran on a continuous loop through her head. His devastation had reached inside her and squeezed her gut and still weighed heavily against her chest.

  ‘We need to keep an eye on Alf the next little while,’ she said. Felicity hadn’t even registered the silence in the car until she broke it.

  ‘You don’t think he’d try to...’

  Felicity shook her head, her gaze fixed on the shadows outside the car. ‘No. But they’ve been together a lot of years. It wouldn’t be the first time a spouse had died close on the heels of a long-term partner.’

  ‘Good point.’

  ‘I’ll organise some community health services,’ she said, her brain flipping through the options. ‘And I’ll mobilise the Country Women’s Association.’

  Felicity knew the CWA would rally around Alf. Lizzy had been the local president for about twenty years—Alf would never have to cook again.

  ‘His daughter said quite a few of them were sticking around until after the funeral and she was going to stay on until Christmas. Apparently they’re all going to spend it here with Alf.’

  Christmas. It was hard to believe it was only five weeks away. ‘That’s good.’

  They lapsed into silence again. Felicity looked at her house. It seemed so quiet and empty after the fullness of Alf’s house today. She had never minded the quietness. It had been one of the joys of moving back to Vickers Hill after living in an apartment on a busy main road in Adelaide. But she didn’t want to face the quietness now. She didn’t want to be alone.

  She turned her head to look at him. ‘You want to come in for a drink?’

  To say he looked taken aback by the offer was an understatement. ‘There...seem to be a lot of reasons why I shouldn’t.’

  Felicity nodded. There were. But.

  ‘I need a drink. A big one. And I don’t want to be alone right now.’

  His eyes searched hers for a beat or two. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for but he must have been satisfied because he reached for the release button on his seat belt. ‘I could definitely go a drink.’

  Felicity was thankful as she unlocked her front door and Callum followed her into the house that she had no Mrs Smiths to worry about. Sure, people gossiped in her street too—where didn’t they?—but her neighbours were mostly families, young mums too busy just getting through the day to worry about what Felicity was doing in the privacy of her own home.

  ‘You were so good with Alf’s family today,’ he said from behind her as he followed her into her formal lounge room.

  ‘Well, I’ve had plenty of practice,’ she said as she poured them both a slug of her favourite whisky.

  ‘Sure. I just figured you’d be...’

  Felicity smiled to herself as she screwed the lid back on the bottle then turned, handing him his whisky. ‘An emotional wreck? A blubbering mess?’

  ‘I was thinking more along the lines of not quite so contained.’

  She smiled again. Callum was treading carefully. ‘Lizzy’s death isn’t about me and my feelings. It’s about them. Her family. Me bursting into tears because I’m sad doesn’t prioritise their grief and also puts the onus on them to comfort me during a time when they should only be thinking of themselves. It’s selfish. Not helpful.’

  ‘So you just...don’t?’

  ‘That’s right.’ She nodded. ‘You just suck it up. Come home, have a drink and a long cry in the shower.’

  Felicity looked into the depths of the amber fluid. The tears that had been threatening since she’d got the phone call this morning pushed closer to the surface. She blinked hard, swirled the whisky around the glass a few times before raising it towards him.

  ‘To Lizzy.’

  He tapped his glass against hers. ‘To Lizzy.’

  Felicity slugged back half of hers, sucking in a breath as the whisky burned all the way down. ‘You were pretty great too today,’ she mused as she watched him over the rim of her glass.

  He smiled. ‘I had a good teacher.’

  Felicity laughed. A short, sharp sound that was more wounded than joyous. It hurt. Deep inside her chest where it had been hurting all day.

  He frowned and took a step towards her. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Nope.’ Her voice wobbled, her smile wobbled. Everything wobbled inside as the soft concern in his voice undid her. ‘But I will be tomorrow.’

  A tear escaped. And then another.

  ‘Felicity,’ he whispered, placing his drink down on a nearby table and taking the step that separated them, his hands on her hips. ‘Don’t cry.’

  She didn’t want to, not in front of him, but crying came as naturally to Felicity as laughing. She’d thought the tears would hold off until she was alone. She was wrong.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, embarrassed, dashing them away with her hands.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t ever apologise for being who you are.’

  It didn’t help. The tears came faster.

  ‘Hey,’ he murmured, taking her glass and discarding it too before sliding his hands up her back, urging her against him.

  Felicity went, shutting her eyes and bunching her fingers in his T-shirt, letting the tears fall. It was beyond her power to stop them.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, the even thud of his heart comforting beneath her ear.

  ‘Shh,’ he said, his chin resting on top of her head. ‘It’s okay.’

  It certainly felt okay, standing in the circle of his arms, weeping quietly. Losing Lizzy had taken a little chink out of her soul, as had every patient she’d ever lost. It was inevitable for someone like her whose emotions were barely skin deep, but having Callum here with her helped.

  She glanced up at him. She was close enough to his neck to see every individual whisker, to press her nose to his throat and inhale the citrus essence of him. Fill herself up with that instead of the echoes of Alf finally breaking down and whispering, ‘My darling, my darling, my darling’, like his heart was shattering.

  She angled her head back until she was looking into his eyes, eyes that told their own story of loss right there for the whole world to see.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, rising up on tiptoe and kissing him.

  For being here. For being there. For being better. For being what she needed e
xactly when she needed it.

  Like right now.

  He eyed her warily as he pulled back, his hands moving to her hips and pushing her away gently. But Felicity held firm. The night stretched ahead of her and she didn’t want to be alone for any of it.

  ‘Felicity?’ His hands branded her hips as his confused eyes searched hers. Was he trying to find some kind of meaning as to why she’d kissed him? ‘I’m not sure we should be doing this.’

  Felicity was very sure they shouldn’t be but she wanted it anyway. And the accelerated thud of his heart beneath her palm told her maybe he did too.

  ‘I didn’t mean this to be—’ He stopped abruptly, obviously finding the right words difficult. ‘I was just...trying to comfort you.’

  ‘I know.’ She did. And she appreciated it.

  But...

  She raised her hand, tracing her fingers along his jaw and up the side of his face. ‘I just need a different kind of comfort tonight.’

  He stared at her for long moments before covering her hand with his and bringing it to his mouth, dropping a kiss on her palm. It was such a gentle gesture Felicity’s eyes welled with tears again.

  His mouth lowered and he kissed her, soft and slow, like their very first kiss on the train before it had turned hot and heavy. The tears spilled over, trekking south, his thumbs wiping them away as he cupped her cheeks either side of her jaw, his gentleness so sweet she sighed his name against his mouth.

  He eased away slightly. ‘Take me to the nearest bed.’

  The low, gravelly request slid right between her legs and, without a word, Felicity took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom.

  She turned as they crossed the threshold, seeing her bed in its usual unmade disarray. ‘It’s a little messy, I’m afraid I don’t see the point in making my bed when—’

  His mouth cut her off as his hands slid to her waist, bringing their bodies flush against each other. ‘I don’t care about mess,’ he muttered, coming up for air, feathering kisses along her jaw to her ear. ‘I just want to be inside you.’