Dr. Carlisle's Child

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Dr. Carlisle's Child Page 10

by Carol Marinelli


  Lucinda felt a stab of disappointment.

  ‘Which gives us most of Saturday. Once my speech is out of the way I’m all yours. Anyway, we can hardly hole ourselves up in our room the whole time.’

  ‘Why not?’ Lucinda grumbled, then smiled. ‘OK, never let it be said I stood in the way of your career.’ A look she couldn’t interpret flashed over Seb’s face and for a second Lucinda wondered what she had said wrong, but as she continued speaking his face broke into another smile. ‘John can have you tonight but then it’s my turn.’

  If Lucinda had had any romantic ideas of a cosy weekend for the two of them, her illusions were hastily shattered when they arrived at the luxurious beachside hotel. After checking in, she was shown to her room. After reading the itinerary, she realised that all of their time there was pretty much accounted for.

  The afternoon was taken up with formal lectures, followed by dinner and then back for a group discussion. The following morning was packed again, with a break after lunch for some leisure time and then more lectures. There were even lectures on Sunday morning, though only until eleven. The rest of the day was free with further conferences in the evening. However, that didn’t apply to her and Seb as they were leaving. No wonder Professor Hays had seemed so delighted when he’d said he couldn’t attend. Oh, well. Lucinda shrugged. It was her first medical conference as a consultant and she was determined to enjoy it.

  A welcoming basket of tropical fruit was on the table and Lucinda helped herself to a pawpaw. There was also a small wicker basket containing shampoo and conditioner and various bath and body oils, even a few condoms. The Plaza, it seemed, catered for everyone.

  Making her way down to the conference room, she stood at the door uneasily for a moment. Seb was nowhere to be seen and most of the faces were new to her. Assuming a confident pose, Lucinda hovered on the edge of the most familiar-looking group, desperately hoping to be included in the conversation. Seb was still nowhere in sight, she realised miserably, then kicked herself. The last thing she wanted was to look as if she needed rescuing.

  ‘We haven’t been introduced. The name’s Jeremy Foster. I’m a consultant surgeon at Melbourne City.’

  Lucinda turned grateful to have someone to talk to.

  ‘Lucinda Chambers. I’m at the Women’s and Children’s.’

  ‘I know. I’ve heard a lot about you and what I don’t already know I intend to find out.’

  Lucinda nearly choked. Well, he didn’t waste any time. She took in the blond looks and sultry eyes. He was good-looking, but not to her taste. And he was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. Still, at least it was someone to talk to.

  ‘Are you giving a talk here?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Not this time. I’m actually working on designing a new instrument but it’s rather early days to be presenting it.’ And he was off. Over the next fifteen minutes Jeremy Foster gave her an in-depth description of his idea, which to Lucinda’s mind was nothing particularly new or exciting anyway. The only reason he would be doing it, she knew, was to put his name to something, but she listened politely or at least pretended to. The occasional ‘hmm’ or ‘really’ was all the encouragement he needed to talk about himself.

  ‘Hello, there, Jeremy, Lucinda.’ Seb greeted them both and Lucinda gave a relieved smile.

  ‘Hello, there, Sebastian. Haven’t seen you in ages, though I must make a point of following up a couple of the referrals I pass your way if your hospital’s latest acquisition is anything to go by.’ His eyes flicked knowingly to Lucinda.

  Seb gave him a cool smile, ‘And I thought we were here to discuss medicine.’

  Thankfully Jeremy took his cue and left them to it.

  ‘What did he want?’ Seb asked, sounding irritated.

  ‘To talk about himself,’ Lucinda replied lightly, glad that Seb seemed rattled. ‘How’s your room?’

  ‘Too far from yours. Hell, I hate these things. Everyone trying to outdo each other, full of their own self-importance. If you weren’t here I’d be tempted to catch the next plane home.’

  ‘You’re speaking, remember.’

  ‘How could I forget? John’s getting worked up. Apparently a couple of the bigwigs from his hospital are here.’

  ‘I don’t blame him for being worked up. This is the big league here, real make-or-break stuff. Sorry. I’m probably not helping.’

  Seb shook his head. ‘I couldn’t give a damn. I’m not out to impress, just to learn something and hopefully share what I’ve been researching.’

  That was so like him, Lucinda thought. Seb was easily as knowledgeable as anyone in this room yet he didn’t let it go to his head. His concern was always his patients. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch him, instead she took a sip of her drink. It was hell being so close and not able to do a thing about it.

  ‘C’mon. You can show me your room. The lectures don’t start for another half-hour.’ He must have read her mind.

  And finally they were alone, and those brief moments were all it took to convey the urgency of their feelings and sustain her until tomorrow. He took her hand and led her to the king-sized bed. Gently he laid her down and stretched out beside her, his hand gently exploring her body through her flimsy dress and coming to rest on her breast as he kissed her deeply, his hand becoming more insistent as her nipples swelled beneath his expert touch. With a low moan she arched her body towards him, and despite the unwelcome restraints of their clothes she could feel the solid weight of his desire against her trembling thighs.

  ‘We’re like a couple of teenagers,’ Lucinda gasped a few moments later, ‘creeping away for a necking session.’

  Seb reluctantly pulled away. ‘Shall we put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and play a bit of hookey, then?’

  It was tempting, very tempting, but they both knew it was impossible. Finally they stood up, straightening their clothes.

  ‘Do you want to go down first? I’ll follow in a couple of minutes.’

  ‘I’m sick of playing games,’ he said suddenly. ‘We’ve nothing to be ashamed of and after this weekend the whole world’s going to know anyway.’ And purposefully he took her hand and walked out with her to the lift. They made their way down the stairs, their hands entwined. Never had she felt more proud or confident.

  The stolen moments in her room and the public display of affection made the rest of the day more bearable. Oh, she longed to be near him, longed to whisk him away from John McClelland and upstairs, but she had waited this long so she could wait a bit more.

  And when on Saturday morning he stood up with John to deliver the lecture she knew she had been right to be patient. They were superb. Seb, being the more senior, went into considerable depth about their subject while John backed it up with the statistics and results. But it was Seb who somehow delivered a human touch, allowing the personalities of his subjects to shine through, which made for riveting listening. Suddenly he held the room in the palm of his hand as he spoke of the reduced pain, the increased mobility, fewer chest infections.

  Lucinda knew he had done what he had to set out to do. Knew that everyone in this room would go back to their various roles and see where paediatric pain-controlled analgesia could be implemented. The thunderous applause that followed made her heart swell with pride. Seb and John were the men of the moment and Lucinda was more than happy to take a back seat.

  Throughout the day various doctors accosted him, and though he spoke to them politely Lucinda was ever aware of his hungry eyes on her.

  Finally, though, the lectures were over. Seeing Seb holed up with John and a few cronies, she escaped to the pool to do some laps.

  ‘We meet again.’ She surfaced, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Jeremy Foster gave her the benefit of a very wide smile.

  ‘Well, as we’re staying at the same hotel it’s hardly much of a surprise.’ Lucinda said, somewhat irritated.

  ‘Do you fancy a drink?’

  Lucinda shook her head. ‘If I have to look at
that bar again, I think I’ll go,’ she said truthfully, then kicked herself as she realised she had given him an opening and men like Jeremy rarely missed a chance.

  ‘Who said anything about going to the bar?’ He gave her a seductive smile. ‘I’ve got a well-stocked mini-bar in my room just waiting to be raided.’

  Lucinda was used to being chatted up, and normally she could brush unwelcome advances off easily, but this man had skin as thick as rhino’s hide. Suddenly she became angry. Just what did he take her for? Did he really think she would go upstairs with him?

  ‘Well, you’d better get used to drinking alone,’ she snapped, and in one lithe movement she hauled herself out of the pool. Wrapping her sarong tightly around her, she made her way to her room.

  Gibbering with rage at his unwelcome advances, she peeled off her bathers, only to hear a firm rap on the door.

  ‘Go away,’ she shouted.

  ‘Lucinda?’ Hearing Seb’s voice, she grabbed her sarong and tied it around her waist, before opening the door.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get away sooner but I’m here now.’

  ‘It’s not you,’ she said, pulling him in. After having a brief look down the corridor, she closed the door.

  ‘I thought we weren’t in hiding any more?’

  ‘We’re not, just me. That Jeremy Foster really is insatiable.’

  ‘Has he been giving you a hard time?’ Seb frowned. He was wearing only a beach towel draped around his waist. ‘Do you want me to have a word?’

  ‘I can take care of myself, thanks. I just gave him an extremely cold shoulder. For a moment, though, I thought he’d followed me up here.’

  ‘Wouldn’t put it past him—that guy has broken more hearts than you’ve fixed. I saw him eyeing you up. Bloody lech.’

  ‘Seb.’ Lucinda laughed. ‘You weren’t jealous, were you?’

  ‘No,’ he said, then shrugged. ‘Well, maybe a little bit, I guess. I was just coming down to the pool to join you for a swim. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours with you looking completely stunning and haven’t been able to do a thing about it.’

  ‘Until now,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Until now.’ he replied, his eyes glazing over with lust. ‘Come here.’

  Seductively she undid her sarong and it slithered to the ground. His eyes travelled searchingly over her body, melting her with his gaze. Slowly she walked over to him, her hands reaching out and touching his broad chest, her long nails dragging teasingly around his nipples then slowly working their way down. She undid the towel and purposefully she slipped off his bathers with one hand as the other boldly explored the delicious beauty of his malehood.

  His lips nuzzled her shoulders, soft hot kisses, her satin skin fragrant with the scent of desire, mingling with the pool’s chlorine. Moving downwards, ever downwards, his searching mouth found her glorious heavy breasts and with a low moan he buried his head in their velvet softness.

  ‘Lucinda, oh, Lucinda,’ he rasped, his voice deep and breathless. Scooping her up in his strong arms, he carried her over to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. As he tenderly laid her down they both trembled violently. His mouth hadn’t finished exploring her yet and he searched relentlessly as she lay beneath him, squirming in ecstasy until she could take it no more.

  Gasping with pleasure, she leant over and with shaking hands she wrestled with the foil package that was their final obstacle. Achingly slowly, firm and then gentle, she unravelled the thin latex along the long length of him, and then there was nothing that could stop them and he dived into her depths.

  Like two lost souls that had always belonged together, they began their journey, each knowing instinctively the way to go, pushing each other on, pulling each other back, climbing slowly with sudden bursts of energy that brought them nearer. Until finally, exhausted and gasping, they reached the peak in perfect unison, holding each other tightly as the world rushed by around them.

  ‘I’ve wanted you for so long,’ he said finally as they lay in each other’s arms, their long limbs entwined. As she gazed into his loving eyes Lucinda finally knew what it felt to be loved.

  Later as they bathed together in the huge spa and he slowly soaped her thighs, the dispersing bubbles displayed her breasts so invitingly that Seb seductively moved his hand slowly higher and to her gasps of surprise and delight he took her there and then in the water.

  Drying her slowly, his strong hands massaging her through the soft towel, Seb laughed as he caught sight of the empty basket ‘We’ve exhausted the hotel’s supplies.’

  ‘Well, I’m not ringing housekeeping to ask for more condoms.’ Lucinda said, blushing at the thought.

  ‘We’ll just have to move up to my room, then.’

  As good as they were, the evening’s lectures were wasted on Lucinda and Seb. Trying hard to concentrate, she was all too aware of Seb next to her. She could smell his newly washed hair, feel his thighs next to hers, and she was tempted to take him by the hand and run back up to her room. But they got through and finally when the meal was over and they had stayed for one drink to be polite, they escaped back upstairs, ordering breakfast to be delivered before she succumbed again to his rapturous love-making.

  ‘You’re a great cure for my insomnia,’ she said finally as she lay completely spent beside him.

  He kissed her goodnight slowly, then tucked himself behind her with one arm protectively wrapped around her until she drifted off. And it felt so right he stayed like that all night, not wanting to ever let her go.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AS THE Queensland sun streamed through the window, Lucinda felt the delicious glow on her face. In their haste to be together they hadn’t drawn the curtains and she lay there half-asleep, feeling the sun on her skin and the warmth of Seb so close next to her. She felt him stir slightly and she nuzzled against him, feeling him rising against her as welcome as the new day, their bodies instinctively reaching out for each other. Effortlessly he slipped inside her and they rocked together. Like a surreal dream, drugged on sleep and lust, they made hazy love.

  ‘What a gorgeous way to wake up,’ she said much later, stretching like a cat on the bed.

  He ran a warm hand over her breast. ‘You look good enough to eat.’ He bent his head and tenderly nuzzled at her breasts, but a sharp knock on the door halted him.

  ‘Looks like the real thing’s here.’ Lucinda laughed as they hastily covered themselves with the sheet.

  Without even a glance, the housemaid delivered the breakfast trolley, wheeling it in and with painstaking slowness proceeding to pour the juice.

  ‘We’ll take it from here, thanks,’ Seb said finally. ‘Do you think I was supposed to tip her?’ he asked when she’d gone.

  ‘She’d have got a pretty big tip if you’d got out of bed like that,’ Lucinda remarked as he stood up.

  They feasted on eggs Benedict and guava juice and fed each other strawberries and melon like two newly-weds.

  ‘Let’s skip the morning’s lectures,’ Seb said as they read the papers.

  Lucinda gave a shrug. ‘All right, but if Professor Hays finds out I’m going to say you corrupted me.’

  ‘I corrupted you?’ He laughed. ‘I think it was the other way around.’ The ringing of the telephone interrupted their cheerful banter. Lucinda answered it and listened carefully as Seb carried on reading.

  ‘We’re not going to be missing the lectures,’ she said eventually when she replaced the receiver.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘This morning’s speaker has gone down with gastro and they’ve asked me to do it.’

  ‘What’s it on?’ he asked gently, seeing how pale she had gone.

  ‘Micro-prems.’

  ‘You’ll walk it,’ he said confidently, but they both knew it was a tough task. Lectures like these took weeks of preparation, but an opportunity to be seen on this floor was just too good to pass up.

  Lucinda was an excellent public speaker.
Years at a top boarding school and her time at uni on the debating team had seen to that, but as she took the stage she realised this was her toughest audience yet. Although the presenter had thanked her profusely for stepping in at such short notice, and had told the guests the same, the room was packed with the best medical brains and her hastily written notes were sketchy. The only statistics she had to back her up were the ones in her head. She had no slides, no graphs to work with.

  Clearing her throat, she started. Seb gave her a reassuring smile and she smiled back hesitantly. Then, like a baby bird stretching its wings, she hopped off the branch and realised she was flying.

  ‘Initially I was sceptical. These babies are barely viable. We put them and their families thorough hell and more often than not to no avail.’ She went into the various ailments these babies faced, speaking briefly of cortical blindness from too much oxygen, necrotising encolitis and then in more depth about cardiac defects, arrhythmias and lung immaturity, recalling statistics that had stuck in her head from when she had pondered this subject long into the night. Her depth of knowledge was truly amazing and she held the audience in the palm of her hand as she spoke with wisdom and passion on this most difficult subject.

  As she concluded she looked around the room, her eyes staring directly into the enthralled audience. ‘Micro-prems aren’t my speciality, but neither are they the exclusive property of the neonatologist. It takes a huge combination of skill and experience, involving practically the whole spectrum of specialties, to care for these infants, and each plays a vital role. Pain, too, plays a big part. Are we subjecting these babies to too much pain? A lot of research is being done but we’ll never know the complete answer. We heard yesterday from Drs Carlisle and McClelland about the problems of interpreting pain in infants. How must it be for these the tiniest of babies? It is something we must all consider when we subject them to endless procedures in the quest for life.

  ‘As I said, I used to be sceptical, and it used to worry me. I like to know my own opinions, be able to give an assured answer, but I have now realised that on this subject no one can. We are right to be sceptical—the answers to the ethical and medical debates thrown up by these micro-prems remain equivocal. But, like it or not, medical research is advancing and these tiny babies pave the way for ones that come later.’ She paused. ‘So we will soldier on until such time as a law is passed which dictates a viable delivery age. But we have to tread carefully, we have to inform the parents each step of the way.’ She thought of Kimberley, of Janine and Mark.

 

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