by Emily Forbes
‘Maybe they had that passion in the beginning,’ she argued.
‘Maybe they did but doesn’t that make it worse, to think it’s gone, that their best years are behind them? What’s the point in getting married now, committing your life to one person, when you’ve had your best years?’
She wasn’t convinced. ‘Who’s to say they’ve had their best years? They’ve got all that shared history and now they’ll have a future too. If they’ve already been together for years I reckon they’ve got a pretty good chance.’
He was nodding his head. ‘I guess they’re one of those couples who reckon they’ll make it,’ he agreed.
Ellie smiled. ‘I would say most couples who are planning on saying “I do” would tell you they thought they’d last the distance if you asked them. Otherwise why get married?’
‘My point exactly.’
His smug tone made her laugh. ‘I’m not agreeing with you,’ she said. ‘I’m saying that most people who get married believe their marriage will last.’
‘Well, I hope you’re right, for Pete and Karen’s sake. You obviously have a less jaded view of marriage than I do. You believe in the whole happy-ever-after thing?’
She looked over the railing, turning her attention back to the action in the Cross, as she thought about her answer. Despite her many short-lived romances, including her most recent tumultuous break-up with a liar and a cheat, she did still believe in a happy ending. And for her, that included marriage. ‘Yeah, I do. I’m still young and hopeful, not old and cynical like you.’
He laughed, a rich, deep laugh that drew Ellie’s attention back to him. The tone of his laugh perfectly matched the dark intensity of his eyes. ‘I’m not old and cynical,’ he countered, ‘I just want to keep my options open. Marriage doesn’t allow for that.’
She was wondering if she could quiz him for more information when the sound of raised voices interrupted her train of thought. Two guys were being evicted from the pub across the road. They must have started a fight inside the pub and they showed no signs of giving up now they were outside. The two men, one in a leather jacket the other in a T-shirt, were throwing punches at each other and mostly missing. The guy in the jacket must have decided that tactic wasn’t working and somehow he managed to get the other guy in a headlock.
Ellie watched horrified as the trapped man thrashed and kicked. ‘Why doesn’t someone do something?’ There was nothing she and James could do from their first-floor vantage point and she wasn’t about to try to break up a brawl between two men who, she assumed, had been drinking heavily. She didn’t really expect any other passer-by to either but surely the security guards could do something? But the security guards had clearly abdicated responsibility now that they were off their premises.
‘The police won’t be far away.’
Ellie looked up and down Darlinghurst Road but couldn’t see any sign of the blue uniforms. She wondered if she should phone 000 but then realised that James was right. This strip was usually heavily policed and they wouldn’t be far away. If someone made a phone call every time there was a fight on Darlinghurst Road the phone lines would be permanently jammed. People were crossing the street, skirting the fight. No one wanted to get involved.
A girl came running out of the pub, yelling loudly, and Ellie’s attention was pulled back to the action. The girl was very thin and dressed all in black, which accentuated her small frame. Ellie wondered what she was yelling about but without stopping to take a breath the girl leapt onto the back of the guy who was still trying to choke his opponent. Ellie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This girl, who couldn’t weigh more than fifty kilograms, was pulling on the leather jacket of one man, trying to break up the fight. She had no chance as both men would easily weigh twice as much as her.
While keeping one arm around the throat of his opponent, the guy in the leather jacket reached behind him, grabbed the girl and flung her to the ground as easily as a cow swatted a fly with its tail. The girl tumbled through the air and her head collided with a metal street bench. Ellie’s hand flew to her mouth. The girl was sprawled on the ground. She waited for someone to notice and go to her aid but people were still crossing the street to avoid the fracas and everyone seemed oblivious to the girl and her predicament. The fight was still in progress but the guy in the T-shirt had managed to get free of the headlock. Maybe the girl had provided just enough distraction to let him break free, but even he was more intent on attacking his opponent than helping the girl who had tried to help him. She still hadn’t moved. Ellie waited for the girl to sit up. Nothing.
‘She’s not moving,’ Ellie said to James, turning to look at him as she spoke.
But James was gone. He was running across the balcony to the opposite corner. Ellie frowned. Where was he going?
He reached the edge of the balcony and Ellie saw him stretch over the side. There was a metal ladder fixed to the wall beside the balcony. She recognised it as an old fire escape. James knocked the ladder loose and Ellie heard the screech of stiff metal as the ladder extended. Ten seconds later he was down at street level.
Ellie finally processed the scene and followed in James’s wake. The metal of the ladder was cold and rusty under her hands and she was a little slower than he had been thanks to her high heels, but at least she was wearing trousers. By the time she reached ground level James was kneeling beside the girl.
Ellie ran across the street, feeling about as graceful as a newborn giraffe in her high heels. The police had finally arrived but they were busy with the brawlers. They had managed to stop the fight and the two men were being handcuffed. The guy in the T-shirt, which was now hanging together by a few threads, had a bloody nose but somehow he’d managed to give the guy in leather a cut above his eye. Both injuries were bleeding profusely.
Ellie knelt beside James. She couldn’t be sure but she guessed less than a minute had passed since the girl had hit her head. The girl’s face was covered in blood from the gash beside her temple, it had run down the side of her face and was dripping from the end of her nose. James’ fingers were on the girl’s neck, feeling for a pulse.
‘Is she alive?’ she asked.
James looked around and he seemed almost surprised to see her. ‘I can feel a pulse but she’s not breathing. Get the cops to call an ambulance,’ he said as he used his shirt to wipe the blood from around the girl’s nose and mouth. Ellie knew he was preparing to breathe for the girl. She quickly grabbed a tissue from her handbag, it was the only precaution she could provide him with, before he tilted the girl’s head back and started breathing air into her lungs.
There was nothing else for Ellie to do so she went and confirmed that an ambulance had been called, and according to the police it was on its way and she hoped James hadn’t been foolish by starting resuscitation yet she knew he had no other option. As a doctor he had sworn on oath to do no harm and that meant attempting to save a life if he could with no regard for his own. She returned to his side. ‘The paramedics are on the way,’ she said.
As she spoke she heard the girl breathe in on her own. James quickly sat back and turned the girl onto her side, narrowly escaping a stream of vomit that spilled from her.
‘Don’t move.’ James had one hand on the girl’s shoulder, keeping her in position. ‘You’ve been in an accident, you hit your head and you need to be checked over.’ The ambulance pulled alongside the kerb and the paramedics climbed out. Even though James was preventing the girl from sitting up, Ellie could see that her hands were moving so it didn’t look as though she’d sustained any serious injury. She’d been lucky. Lucky too that James had been on the scene.
Ellie sat on the metal bench that had played a part in the drama and waited while James handed the girl over to the paramedics. She didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t walk away but it felt strange waiting for James, as though they were in this together.
The two pugilists had been bundled into the back of two police vans. The cops were keeping the
m separated and under surveillance, obviously taking no chances, while the pub’s security guards gave their version of the night’s events. Next James had to give his details to the police and then he was free to go. Ellie stood and approached him when he’d finished. She put one hand on his arm and the warmth of his skin seeping into her fingers comforted her and unsettled her at the same time. She felt both safe and vulnerable. An odd sensation until she worked out that he affected her head and her body in different ways. Her head said he was a good person, honest and trustworthy. That was the safe part. It was her own body and her reaction to him that she couldn’t trust.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’
The bottom of his shirt was bloodstained from where he’d wiped the girl’s face and there was a bloody hand-print down the side where he must have wiped his own hand at some point. His forehead was wet with perspiration. Ellie could smell the faint metallic scent of blood but the smell of limes was still quite strong and there was now a definite saltiness to James’s scent as well. Despite his dishevelled state, he still smelt fantastic.
‘That was quite a performance, very James Bond, racing to the rescue down the fire escape,’ she said.
‘Oh God, James Bond?’ He lifted his hands and rubbed his face, smearing his forehead with dirt and blood. ‘I must have looked like a complete idiot.’ Despite the grime he still looked striking. The dirt streaked his cheekbones, emphasising their sharp angles, and his teeth appeared even whiter in contrast to the dark smudges of grime.
Ellie shook her head. ‘No. It was all rather impressive, to be honest. You saved that girl’s life. She was lucky you were around.’
‘I guess so,’ he said modestly. ‘I just hope she feels better tomorrow.’ He’d been half turned away from her but now he turned to face her squarely, his chocolate eyes dark in his face. ‘What shall we do now?’
‘What do you mean?’ Ellie asked.
‘Are you going back to your party?’
Ellie looked up at the balcony. It was almost impossible to believe she’d started the night up there. She couldn’t imagine going back now. She shook her head. ‘I think I might head home. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.’
‘Are you driving?’
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘I’ll get a taxi.’ There was no point in explaining she didn’t have a car.
‘I have my car, I needed to stay sober and responsible tonight. Let me take you home.’
‘What about your friends?’ she asked. As much as she would love a lift home, she didn’t want him to feel obliged to help her.
James checked his watch. ‘They’ll be heading downstairs to the basement soon. I doubt they’ll even notice I’m missing. Besides, I’m more than happy to skip that part.’
Ellie knew the basement housed a strip club, or, as the business owners phrased it, a ‘gentlemen’s club’. ‘That’s going to a lot of trouble for you. It’s fine really, I’ll catch a cab.’ She gave him one last chance to change his mind.
‘Please. I’d feel much happier if I drove you. I don’t like the idea of you getting a cab on your own, not from the Cross. I’ll drive you home and come back. Are you near the hospital?’
She nodded.
‘That’s settled, then. It’ll be half an hour, easy.’
He took her hand and led her across the road. His touch startled her and set her pulse racing. She felt as though there was an invisible line running from her palm straight to her heart and the touch of James’s hand had sent the silent hum that normally surrounded them directly through her veins. Her lips were dry and her heart was hammering in her chest yet he was behaving as if it was nothing unusual, as it if were something they did every day. But the familiarity, while not unpleasant, surprised her.
She expected him to let go of her hand once they reached the opposite footpath but he didn’t. His hand felt warm and strong and gave her something to focus on instead of thinking about the drama she’d just witnessed. The drama he had single-handedly sorted.
He kept hold of her hand until they reached the parking garage and she concentrated on using his touch to make her feel safe as she tried to block out the other more primal sensations she was experiencing.
He only let go of her when he needed to dig his car keys out of his pocket, using them to unlock a black Jeep. His car wasn’t old and neither was it new but, more importantly, there were no baby seats in the back or anything else to indicate that he might have a family stashed away somewhere. He’d said he wasn’t going to get married but he didn’t say he hadn’t already been married, and either way he could still have children. Not that it should matter, she told herself. Even if smouldering, wild and dark hadn’t been cut from her list, doctors had.
He saw her checking out the car. The back seat was strewn with clothes and, understandably, he misunderstood her interest. ‘I’ve been living out of my car a bit for the past couple of weeks,’ he explained.
‘Why?’
‘I live on the North Shore,’ he explained. ‘It’s a bit of a trek in the traffic from the hospital across the harbour to my place depending on what shifts I pull so sometimes it’s easier just to stay in one of the on-call rooms.’
No wife, no baby seats and happy not to go home every night—he was definitely single.
Not that it mattered, she reminded herself again, it was of no consequence to her. She wasn’t ever going to date another doctor, even ones who smelt as delicious as he did and had chocolate eyes that could melt a girl’s heart.
He held the door open for her before circling the car and climbing in to his seat. The small, enclosed confines of the car accentuated the tension in the air that constantly seemed to surround him. She could feel it throbbing around her and the air was filled with the aroma of limes. His smell.
Maybe getting a lift was a bad idea.
She shifted a little in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, trying vainly to distance herself.
‘Are you cold?’ He reached for the controls for the heater.
‘No.’ She forced herself to relax. She couldn’t very well tell him she needed to keep her arms folded to stop herself from reaching over to touch him. She couldn’t tell him how his lime scent and the buzz she got just from being near him was enough to drive her crazy with desire. How she was tempted to reach over and taste him, to run her fingers through his hair and stretch one hand out to feel if his thighs were as strong as they looked under the denim of his jeans. She couldn’t tell him any of that so she chatted about nothing as she directed him to the house on Hill Street.
‘Did you want to come in and use the bathroom?’ she asked as he pulled to a stop out the front. ‘You’ve got dirt and blood all over you.’
He flipped the sun visor down and had a very brief glance at his face in the mirror on the reverse side. ‘Might not be a bad idea, thanks.’ He reached behind the seat and picked up a couple of T-shirts, choosing one and discarding the other. ‘I should change my top too, I guess.’
He hopped out of the car and pulled his bloodied shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons, and tossed it into the back seat. He was standing in the street, half-naked, and Ellie knew she should look away. She knew she was staring but her eyes were glued to the scene. It was a repeat of the beach volleyball episode, a shirtless James, tanned and muscled. But tonight was better because she was closer. His chest was smooth, brown and virtually hairless and she could see his abdominal muscles ripple as he ducked his head into the T-shirt and tugged it down. His lean physique reminded her of a sleek cat, more black panther than lion, though, despite his name.
She was finding it hard to breathe. He had literally taken her breath away.
‘One of the benefits of keeping my wardrobe in my car,’ he said with a grin as his head emerged from his shirt.
She smiled back, hoping she wasn’t grinning like a fool, before she led the way into her house. She found a clean towel and showed him to the bathroom.
> ‘Can I get you something to drink before you go?’ she asked when he emerged. She hoped she sounded like she was offering out of politeness and not as though she was propositioning him.
‘Thanks, but I’d better get back to the bucks’ night just to make sure everything is under control. Can I take a rain-check?’ He stopped beside her and handed her the towel he’d used. ‘Would you go out for a drink with me some other time? Somewhere a bit more civilised than the Cross?’
He was standing just inches from her. The faint metallic scent of blood had been washed from his skin and his fresh, lime scent filled her head once more. His offer was tempting, very tempting. She met his gaze. His dark eyes were watching her intently and she very nearly said yes before she remembered her list.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
‘Both.’
‘Any particular reason?’ he asked.
‘I don’t date people from work.’
A frown creased his forehead, his brown eyes puzzled. ‘Why not?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I promise I can keep it simple. You, me, a bar somewhere.’ He smiled at her and replaced his frown with a wink.
It did sound simple. And tempting. What could be the harm in that?
But she’d been burned before. It really was too bad because he was truly divine.
‘Let me know if you change your mind,’ he said into her silence. His voice was just a breath in her ear and then he was gone. He moved easily, quietly and suddenly there was nothing except for a faint, lingering trace of lime to suggest he’d even been in her house.
But Ellie had the image of him in her head. How he’d run lightly across the balcony, his lithe frame moving quickly, dropping down the fire-escape ladder, kneeling over the girl on the pavement. How the touch of his hand had warmed her from the outside while his smile had warmed her from the inside.
James was hot. He made her insides melt and he smelt like her favourite things, but he wasn’t for her. That was all there was to it. She’d have to look elsewhere.
