by Amy Andrews
Adam, also resplendent in scrubs, smiled and Jess’s heart did a silly flutter in her chest. She’d not seen a lot of him this last week but had been pleased that any awkwardness had passed quickly and they could chat and laugh like they’d never kissed at all.
‘Lai Ling has a congenital facial deformity known as a Tessier cleft. They are very rare and caused by the failure of the face to fuse properly in utero. They involve both soft tissue and the bony elements of the face.’
Jess felt Lai Ling move closer to her as all eyes swivelled her way. She grabbed for the young woman’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. She knew that Lai Ling had lived a solitary life, unable to make friends or be included in village life, because of her condition.
Looking at the defect, Jess felt incredibly protective of her. The young woman’s face was ‘separated’ in the middle where the bones beneath hadn’t fused properly. This had the unfortunate result of displacing both of her eyes laterally and the formation of a bifid nose—two complete half-noses separated by a smooth expanse of skin.
It was a complex condition that required complex surgery.
Despite this, though, she had smiled shyly at Jess as she’d taken the seat next to her. More questions followed that required no input from her. Rajiv answered questions about the difficulty of anaesthetising cranio-facial patients and the charity heads spoke about Operation New Faces and praised Eastern Beaches and Dr Meriwether for their generosity.
‘Dr Carmichael, I’m curious as to why you chose this line of work when you could have gone into plastic surgery like your father, the great Gregory Carmichael, and made more of a name for yourself.’
Jess watched Adam tense and she flicked her gaze towards the assembled press pack, identifying the journo who had asked the question. Where had he said he was from? Some gossip rag or other.
Adam forced his shoulders and jaw to relax lest he say something like Because I didn’t want to turn into a rude arrogant bully who cares more about prestige than patients. ‘I didn’t become a surgeon to make a name for myself,’ he said tersely.
Jess watched as the journalist’s gaze narrowed, sensing a story behind Adam’s clipped reply. ‘And you think your father did?’ the journalist persisted.
Gordon, who granted Gregory Carmichael operating rights from time to time and earned quite a bit of money for the hospital in the process, leapt into the conversation.
‘Dr Gregory Carmichael is a consummate professional. As is his son. Next,’ he announced.
But the journo was not easily put off. ‘Is your father proud of the work you’re doing?’ he persisted.
Adam knew for damn sure he wasn’t. His mother was inordinately proud but his father had always thought what Adam did was a waste of time and that his son would go to his grave poor and unrecognised.
Gregory Carmichael just didn’t realise neither of those things mattered to Adam.
‘Well, I guess you’d have to ask him that.’ Adam fobbed the question off.
He was damned if he was going to make the chief look good by lying.
‘Next!’ Gordon called again, more insistently.
‘Lai Ling, how are you feeling?’ a female journo called.
Jess dragged her gaze away from Adam’s stony face as she felt the young woman tense. She squeezed her hand again as the interpreter, a greying man, murmured quietly to her.
‘She says she’s feeling good. Nervous but good.’
‘What are you hoping to look like after the surgery, Lai Ling,’ another voice called out.
Everyone waited while there was more conferring with the interpreter. ‘Lai Ling wants to look beautiful. Just like Jess.’
The interpreter indicated Jess and Lai Ling smiled shyly at her as general laughter followed. Jess blushed and smiled back as she squeezed the young woman’s hand again.
‘What do you say to that, Jess?’ a deep voice called from the back.
Jess looked at Lai Ling as she spoke, ignoring the media pack. ‘I say that I can already see through Lai Ling’s gorgeous eyes the beauty that lies beneath.’ She paused for the interpreter. ‘And that’s the only beauty that matters.’
Lai Ling shot her another shy smile as the interpreter conveyed Jess’s reply. The cameras snapped wildly.
Another couple of questions followed for Jess about the nursing role and working in a multi-disciplinary team. And then the journalist from earlier piped up again.
‘I notice from the article in Week About that you live with Dr Carmichael.’
Jess could feel Adam’s concerned gaze on her and the animosity flowing off him in thick, angry waves. ‘I live in a house owned by him with his sister who is a friend of mine and two other friends.’
‘So there’s no intimate relationship between the two of you?’
Adam thumped the table. ‘I hardly see that that’s relevant,’ he snapped.
‘Our readership likes to know the intimate details of celebrities’ lives.’
‘We’re doctors and nurses, doing our jobs,’ Adam said icily. ‘Not celebrities.’
‘But your father is,’ the man persisted.
‘My father’s not here,’ Adam said stonily.
‘Okay,’ Gordon intervened. ‘I think we’ve got a bit off track… Last questions? Somebody other than our friend from Behind Closed Doors.’
A few more questions were thrown to the charity directors then someone asked if everyone wouldn’t mind saying what they’d take away from the experience. ‘You first, Jess,’ the journo prompted.
Jess took the opportunity to refocus the press conference on the reason they were all there. After the comparisons to his father and speculation about their relationship outside work, Jess felt that Adam and what he was trying to achieve had been belittled.
‘The opportunity to work on this project with all these incredible professionals is truly amazing. It’s easy to forget with all this hoopla that nine lives will be changed as a result of what we’re doing.’
Jess turned and smiled at Lai Ling before seeking Adam’s lapis lazuli gaze and locking tight.
‘This is all down to the vision and drive of Dr Carmichael. The work he does is truly inspirational. The opportunity to work with him, to be part of his team, is beyond what I’ve ever hoped for. He may not be a fancy celebrity plastic surgeon but the world has enough of them. What the world doesn’t have enough of are dedicated surgeons who strive to make the world a better place.’
There was a moment of utter stillness as, for the first time in half an hour, every person in the room fell silent.
Then someone clapped and soon the room rang with applause. Jess flushed bright pink and dropped her gaze.
Adam breathed out slowly.
He’d never been more turned on in his life.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE Stat Bar was jumping on Sunday afternoon as the Norfolk pine shadows lengthened over the beach and the ocean darkened beneath a scarlet sky.
‘That was some press conference I saw on the news the other night,’ Cort said, lifting his beer and taking a swig.
Jess blushed and glanced over her beer bottle at Adam, sitting opposite. The subsequent flutter in the press over her impassioned dialogue had practically gone viral.
‘Mmm, I see Behind Closed Doors did a very interesting story on the… What was it, darling?’ James asked Ellie, who was sipping her vodka lime and soda.
‘The seething sexual tension between the son of famed ex chief of staff at Sydney Central, Gregory Carmichael, and his nurse,’ Cort supplied.
‘Bloody gutter journalism,’ Jess spluttered as she noticed Tilly and Ruby exchange glances. ‘I’m not anybody’s bloody nurse.’
Adam, who still felt a fire in his loins at the things Jess had said, could see the conversation was making Jess squirm. Interesting, though, that she hadn’t disputed the seething-sexual-tension bit.
‘Is that my tie you’re wearing?’ he asked Cort, deftly changing the subject.
Cort and
he went way back to a time when Cort had been married to another woman and even now Adam found it difficult to wrap his head around Ruby being with his friend. But if anyone deserved to be happy again it was Cort, and his sister obviously adored him.
They adored each other.
But it didn’t change the facts—that was most definitely his tie because he’d been looking for it yesterday and hadn’t been able to find it. He’d also noticed Marcus wearing one of his favourite business shirts the other day—one he’d had specially made in Singapore.
Cort looked down. ‘Oh, yes.’ He fingered it. ‘I’d forgotten a tie one morning and Ruby grabbed one from your cupboard. Sorry, must have forgotten to give it back.’
Adam looked at Ruby. ‘You loaned him my tie?’
Ruby shrugged. ‘Sure. You’re never here and the guys are sometimes caught short.’
Adam looked at the three couples sitting around the table. ‘Oh, really? So you just…go to my cupboard and help yourselves?’
Ruby nodded. ‘Pretty much.’
Adam shook his head at Cort’s chuckle. ‘Does this apparent sharing around of my stuff also extend to my car? ’Cos I noticed a little ding in the front left yesterday when I drove it into the city.’
‘Ah,’ Ellie said. ‘Sorry. Jess and I were going out to this wine appreciation thing—’
‘To meet men,’ James butted in, winking at Ellie.
‘And,’ Ellie continued, ignoring her fiancé, ‘Ruby said we should use your car while you were away… So, anyway, we hit somebody—’
‘I’m sorry?’ Adam almost choked on his beer. ‘You hit somebody?’
‘Just winged him really,’ Ellie dismissed with a wave of her hand. ‘Anyway, it ended up being Harry, James’s half-brother—you know, you met him at Jess’s party last week?’
Adam nodded. ‘He didn’t seem particularly maimed.’
Ellie laughed. ‘No. He’s fine. He’s been coming around a bit, which is great.’
‘Probably because the poor kid has a crush on Jess,’ Marcus teased.
Jess blushed and Adam felt a quick jab of something hot in the middle of his chest. It stood to reason. Jess was very pretty and Harry, from what he’d ascertained when they’d met, was sure as hell closer in age to Jess than he was.
It was an unaccountably depressing thought.
‘Anyway,’ Ellie continued, ‘we have all the insurance quotes and so on. I was just waiting for your return.’
‘Okay, fine, thanks,’ he muttered. ‘What about you?’ he asked Jess. ‘Have you loaned some guy anything of mine? Is there some random man I’m going to bump into on the streets of Coogee or at the hospital, wearing my socks or a jacket?’
Jess blinked. Was that his way of checking how many men she’d had stay over? If only he knew that no man had ever stayed over. That, thanks to her three-year infatuation with him, no man had made it past second base. That she was still a virgin at twenty-four.
‘Absolutely not,’ she said primly.
Adam was unaccountably pleased with the answer.
‘So, big day tomorrow,’ Tilly said sensing Jess’s discomfort and changing the subject.
The conversation turned to the next few days of surgery and Jess was happy to watch Adam as he talked about the culmination of what had been many weeks of behind-the-scenes negotiations.
He was obviously used to this sort of bureaucracy but just listening to the thread of anticipation in his voice it was even more obvious he preferred to be at the actual coal face, where he made the most difference.
‘So it’s a morning list tomorrow?’ Ruby asked Adam as he drained his beer.
‘Afternoon. We had to fit the project ops in around the already scheduled lists. Tuesday we have a morning list and then Wednesday we have Theatre Four all day for Lai Ling’s op.’
There was more discussion about the intricacies of the Tessier cleft repair before Tilly and Marcus stood to go. ‘Gotta dash,’ Tilly announced. ‘Our table’s booked for seven.’
Ellie and James departed with them. Jess watched them leave hand in hand, stifling a sigh. Cort and Ruby stayed another five minutes and they also left.
Before Jess knew it, she was alone with Adam. Something she hadn’t been since the press conference.
‘So are you ready for this?’
Jess raised her long-necked beer to her mouth and swallowed a decent slug to hide her sudden nervousness. Ready for what?
She licked her lips. ‘For…tomorrow?’
Adam’s gaze was drawn to her mouth as he followed the dart of her tongue. ‘Uh-huh,’ he murmured.
‘Of course.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s going to be an amazing experience. I can’t wait.’ She took another mouthful of beer.
Adam watched. He really, really shouldn’t be staring at her mouth. But he didn’t seem to be able to stop either… He remembered how she’d tasted like beer and chocolate cake at her party and how that little whimper had gone straight to his groin.
‘I’m a little nervous,’ she admitted, because she had to say something other than Kiss me as he stared at her mouth.
Adam dragged his eyes upwards to look into hers. ‘Oh?’
‘I’m the most junior member of the team. I want to be as efficient as everyone else. I’ve worked with some surgeons who don’t tolerate any…hesitation. I don’t want to let y—the team down.’
He could see a glimmer of self-doubt lurking in her blue gaze. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he said, reaching for her hand that lay on the table and giving it a squeeze, the way she’d comforted Lai Ling at the press conference.
Except the touch of her skin on his didn’t feel comforting as they both stilled. In fact, it felt very, very unsettling. Before he could stop himself he’d turned her hand over and swept his thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. Her lips parted and something primal glittered in her eyes that tightened his gut.
Jess stared at her wrist as his finger created havoc. Everywhere.
‘So…’ she swallowed, mesmerised by the slow graze of his finger pad ‘…you’re not the kind of surgeon who throws instruments around the operating theatre?’
Adam’s finger stilled. ‘No.’ He withdrew his hand. ‘That’s more my old man’s forte.’
Jess, desire curling delicious fingers deep down inside, almost whimpered at the abrupt withdrawal. Her mind cleared of the sticky tendrils of lust instantly. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t thinking.’
How could she think with him touching her like that?
She knew that both Adam and Ruby were embarrassed by their father’s prima-donna rep. Gregory Carmichael was, apparently, a right bastard to work for, regularly hurling instruments across the operating theatre in mid-surgery and either pompously lecturing or bawling out theatre staff when the whim took him.
Adam took a swig of beer. ‘Thanks for leaping to my defence in the press conference. It was…sweet.’
God, she didn’t want him to think of her as sweet! Her thoughts certainly hadn’t been running to sweet just now and she certainly hadn’t been thinking sweet nothings when she’d let loose in front of the media.
She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t bear for that horrible man to make this whole thing out to be something sordid instead of honourable. About your father instead of you. Some journalist he is!’
Adam chuckled. ‘Well, thank you but I’m old enough to look after myself.’
Jess hesitated. Had he emphasised the old? Was it another hint for her benefit? ‘It seemed to bother you.’
‘A little. Usually it just flows off my back but… I don’t know…’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘It was unexpected, he caught me off guard.’
A well of empathy rose in her chest. It didn’t matter that he was twelve years older than her, he suddenly looked vulnerable, and before she could caution herself to stop, she’d reached for his hand and covered it with her own.
‘It doesn’t matter how old you are—family issues can still get to you like that,’ she said.
Adam looked down at their hands as the earlier unsettled feeling returned. He looked up at Jess. The heat of desire that he’d seen in her eyes after their kiss lurked in her steady gaze. But the feeling that she understood him, that she could see beneath his skin, was perhaps the most unsettling.
He shifted his hand and interlinked his fingers with hers. ‘I’m nothing like him,’ Adam said, his gaze fixed on their hands.
‘Of course you’re not,’ she murmured, also mesmerised by the sight of their joined hands and the warmth that was creeping velvet fingers of desire up her arm. The surroundings seemed to fade until the world shrank to just him and her.
She raised her eyes to his face. ‘You’re Adam.’
Adam looked up too and their gazes meshed. She was looking at him in her inimitable way—with complete candour—and he had the most absurd urge to let go and fall into all that openness.
‘Why don’t you get on?’ she asked.
And then held her breath.
She hoped she hadn’t damaged the fragile walls of the warm cocoon they seemed to be enveloped in. But the notion of not being close to your father was utterly foreign to her.
She missed her father every day. Missed his dry country humour, his rough, calloused hands that belied his gentlemanly manner and his tough, can-do countenance.
Adam shut his eyes for a moment. He didn’t talk about this stuff to anyone but sitting here with her, in this strange bubble, their fingers linked, lulled by the crashing of the waves on one side and the low murmur of voices all around them, a strange compulsion to unburden took hold.
When he opened them again his mind crowded with reasons.
‘Because he disrespects my mother, who adores him. Because he considers people in a lower socio-economic bracket than him to be unimportant and inferior.
‘Because he’s the worst kind of surgeon. A prima donna who overcharges, cuts corners, throws tantrums in the operating theatre and has absolutely no respect for his patients or the people who work side by side with him.’
