by Tina Beckett
Okay, he’d gotten a rise out of her, but not quite the kind he’d been hoping for.
He moved ahead of her and planted himself in her path before she could reach the door to the staff lounge. Why he was bothering he had no idea, but something in him wanted to knock down a block or two of that icy wall she surrounded herself with. “Listen, Dr. Green—Darcie—I know we got off on the wrong foot somehow, but can we hit the reset button? We have three weeks of our rotation left. I’d like to make them pleasant ones, if at all possible. What do you say?”
The tight lines in her face held firm for another moment, and he wondered if she was going to strike him dead for daring to use her first name. Then her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. “I think I might be able to manage that.” The corners of her mouth edged up, creating cute little crinkles at the outer edges of her eyes. “If we both try very hard.”
Something in Lucas’s chest shifted, and a tightening sensation speared through his gut. Had he ever seen the woman smile? Not that he could remember, and certainly never at him. The transformation in her face was…
Incredible.
He swallowed. That was something he was better off not thinking about.
Three weeks. He just had to get through the rest of this rotation. From what he understood, Dr. Green had only been seconded to MMU for a year, then she’d head back to England. He did some quick calculations. She had, what…three months left? Once their rotation was over she’d be down to two, which meant it was doubtful they’d be paired together again. He gave an internal fist pump, trying to put his whole heart into it. It came off as less than enthusiastic.
Because you still have these three weeks to get through.
He gave her another smile. “I think I can manage it as well.”
“Well, good. Now that that’s settled, when is Isla’s appointment?”
He checked his schedule. “Next Wednesday at two.”
Darcie pulled her phone out and scrolled through a couple of screens before punching some buttons. “I don’t have anyone scheduled at that time, so I’ll be there.” She gave him another smile—a bit wider this time—and the wobble in his chest returned. And this time he noticed the crinkles framed eyes that were green. A rich velvety color. Sparkling with life.
Her lips were softer too than they had been earlier. Pink, delicate, and with just a hint of shine.
The tightening sensation spread lower, edging beneath his waistband.
What the hell? Time to get out of here.
“Great. See you later.” He turned and started back the way he had come, only to have her voice interrupt him.
“Don’t forget to call for a consult if anything unusual comes up.”
He stiffened at the prim tone. “Yes, I know the protocol, thank you.”
When she didn’t respond, he turned around and caught something…hurt?…in the depths of those green eyes, and maybe even a hint of uncertainty. In a flash, though, it winked out, taking with it any trace of her earlier smile and, very possibly, their newborn peace accord.
While that bothered him on a professional level, it was what he’d seen in her expression in that unguarded moment that made him want to cross over to her and try to understand what was going on in her head. He didn’t. Instead, he chose to reiterate his comment in a less defensive way. “I’ll ring if I need you.”
Then he walked away. Without looking back. Praying the next weeks sped by without him having to make that call.
* * *
That man should wear a lab coat. A long one.
Darcie tried not to stare at the taut backside encased in dark jeans as he made his way back down the hall, but it was hard. No matter how much she tried to look anywhere but there, her peripheral vision was still very much engaged, keeping track of him until he finally turned down a neighboring corridor.
The thread of hurt from his curt response still lingered, just waiting for her to tug on it and draw it tighter. Why had he acted so put out to have her assistance on a case?
Was it the professional rivalry that sometimes went on between midwives and obstetricians?
She sagged against the wall, pressing her fingers against her temples and rubbing in slow, careful circles to ward off the migraine that was beginning to chomp at the wall of her composure.
What was it about Lucas that put her on edge?
The fact that he was a man in a field dominated by women?
Or was it the fact that all the expectant mums who came through the doors clamored to be put on his patient list? Despite the run-ins they’d had over the past nine months, Senior Midwife Lucas seemed quite capable of doing his job with an ease and efficiency that only enhanced his good looks.
And they were good.
She tried to dredge up an unflattering image, like the time he’d come in late for work, dragging his fingers through his wavy hair, his rumpled clothes the same ones he’d had on when he’d left the previous afternoon. Nope. He’d been just as attractive then as the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
Ugh. She disliked him for that most of all.
Or maybe it was all those secretive phone calls she’d caught him making when he’d thought he’d been alone. Oh, those were definitely over the top. So many of them, right in the middle of his shift.
And he wondered why she was outraged when he came in late or took little side breaks to indulge in whispered conversations.
Could she be jealous?
She straightened in a flash. No! Just because Robert had decided she wasn’t enough “fun”, it didn’t mean she should go ballistic over any man who wanted to indulge in a bit of pillow talk on the phone.
Maybe it wouldn’t bother her so much if he didn’t use the same flirty tones when in conversation with the MMU staff and his patients. The tone he turned on this “Cora” person—a kind of I’m-not-willing-to-commit-but-I-still-want-you-at-my-beck-and-call attitude that grated on Darcie’s nerves. Especially after the way her ex had led her down the rosy path, only to dump her for her maid of honor—who, actually, was a lot of fun to be with.
She sighed and went into the lounge to get a strong cuppa that she hoped would relieve the steady ache in her head and keep it from blooming into something worse.
As soon as she moved into the space, she knew it was a mistake. Lucas, it seemed, was the main topic of conversation among the cluster of four nurses inside.
“I swear one of his patients this morning had on false eyelashes. While in labor!” Marison Daniels blinked rapidly, as if trying to imitate what the woman had done. They all laughed.
If Darcie had hoped to slide by them, grab her tea and tiptoe back out of the room unseen, that hope was dashed when the nurse next to Marison caught Darcie’s eye and gave the jokester a quick poke in the ribs with her elbow. The laughter ceased instantly.
Oh, Lord. Her face burned hotter than the kettle she’d just switched on.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t interrupt,” Marison assured her. “I was just headed back to the ward.”
The others all echoed the same thing.
With a scurry of feet and tossing of rubbish, the four headed out.
Just what she needed. To be reminded that she was still very much an outsider when it came to certain things—like being allowed to let her hair down with the rest of them.
No, the pattern had been set from the moment she’d got off the plane. Oh, she’d made friends and people were nice enough, but to let her in on their little jokes? That didn’t happen very often, except with Isla.
Worse, she’d even overheard Lucas making fun of her English accent while on one of his phone calls to Cora. It hadn’t been in a mean way, he’d just repeated some of her colloquialisms with a chuckle, but it made her feel self-conscious any time she opened her mouth around him. So she made sure she spoke to him as little as possible. And now that they were sharing a rota, she was still struggling to maintain that silence.
Not that it
was going to be possible forever.
She could still picture the confident way he strode through the hallways of the ward, his quick smile making itself known whenever he met a patient. She wrinkled her nose. More than one expectant mum would have probably given her left ovary to bat long sexy lashes and claim the child she was carrying was Lucas Elliot’s.
Including his current paramour, Cora?
Probably, but not her. She was done with men like him.
Her fiancé had been handsome and attentive. Until he hadn’t been. Until he’d grown more and more distracted as their engagement had progressed.
Now she knew why.
And Lucas had Cora. She was not about to smile and flirt with a man who was taken. She wasn’t Tabitha.
She packed leaves into the tea ball and dropped it into a chunky mug—a gift from her dad to remind her that her favorite footballers resided in England and to not let herself get swept away by a handsome face, especially one who lived halfway round the world.
Lucas’s quirked brow swam before her eyes, and she let out an audible groan, even as she poured boiling water into her cup. No matter how good looking he was or how elated she’d been to see the momentary confusion cross his expression when she’d smiled at him, she did not need to become like False-Eyelash Lady—the one Marison had carried on about.
There’d be a real corker of a reaction if someone caught her mooning after him. Or staring after him, like she’d done earlier.
She bounced her tea ball in the water and watched as the brew grew darker and darker, just like her thoughts. What she needed was to stay clearheaded. Like he’d said, they had three more weeks together.
He wanted them to be pleasant ones. She finished adding milk and sugar to her cup and then discarded the used tea leaves, rinsing the ball and leaving it on a towel for the next person who needed it.
“Pleasant” she could do, but that had to be the extent of it. Maybe she should be grateful for all those calls to Cora…maybe she should even hope the relationship stayed the course. At least for the next few weeks.
Which meant she would not go out of her way to put him at ease or cut him any slack if he came in late again. Neither would she give the man any reason to look at her with anything other than the casual curiosity his eyes normally held.
And once those three weeks were up?
Life would go back to the way it had been before they’d found themselves joined at the hip.
Joined at the hip. She gave a quick grin. That was one place she and Lucas would never be joined, even if the idea did create a layer of warmth in her belly. But it was not going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
With that in mind, she took a few more sips of the sweet milky brew, then, feeling fortified and ready to face whatever was out there, she headed off to see her next patient in what was proving to be a very interesting morning.
CHAPTER TWO
FELIX WASN’T AT HOME.
Arms loaded with items for their dinner, Lucas set everything down in the kitchen. “Where is he?”
Chessa, the childminder, shrugged and said in a quiet voice, “He went out an hour ago, saying he needed to buy prawns, and hasn’t come back yet.”
Damn. “And where’s Cora?”
“Outside with Pete.” The young woman’s brow creased. “Should I be worried? He’s been good for the last few weeks, but he did put some bottles of ale in the fridge. I haven’t seen him drink anything, though.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your job to watch him. If he ever fails to come home before you’re supposed to leave, though, call me so I can make sure Cora is taken care of.”
“I would never leave her by herself, Mr. Elliot.” The twenty-five-year-old looked horrified.
“I know you wouldn’t. I just don’t want you to feel you have to stay past your normal time.”
The sliding door opened and in bounded Pete the Geek in a flash of brown and white fur, followed closely by Cora, whose red face said they’d been involved in some sort of running game. The dog came over and sat in front of him, giving a quick woof.
Lucas laughed and reached in his pocket for a treat. “Well, you’re learning.”
He and Cora had been working on teaching Pete not to leap on people who walked through the door. By training him to sit quietly in front of visitors, they forestalled any muddy paw prints or getting knocked down and held prisoner by an overactive tongue. The trick seemed to be working, although if the tail swishing madly across the tile floor was any indication, Pete was holding himself in check with all his might.
Kind of like him when Darcie had smiled at him as he’d left the hospital?
Good thing he had more impulse control than Cora’s dog.
Or maybe Darcie was training him as adeptly as Cora seemed to be training Pete.
“He wants his treat, Uncle Luke.”
Realizing he’d been standing there like an idiot, he tossed the bacon-flavored bit to Pete and then bent down to pet him. “I think he’s gained ten kilos in the last week.”
He squatted and put an arm around both his niece and her dog.
Cora kissed him on the cheek, her thin arms squeezing his neck. “That’s just silly. He doesn’t weigh that much.”
“No?” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, grimacing when Pete gave his own version of a kiss, swiping across his eyebrow and half his eye in the process. “Okay, enough already.”
He couldn’t hold back his smile, however, despite the niggle of worry that was still rolling around inside him.
Where the hell was his brother?
Standing, he kept one hand on Pete’s head and smiled at the minder. “Would you try ringing his mobile phone and seeing how long he’ll be while I fire up the barbie and get it ready? I don’t know about everyone else but I’m starving.”
His voice was light, but his heart weighed more than the dog at his feet.
“Of course,” Chessa said. “I’ll bring you some lemonade in a few minutes.”
As he was preparing the grill, she came out with a glass and an apologetic shake of her head. “There was no answer, but I left a voice mail.”
“Thank you. Luckily I brought some prawns with me, just in case. Feel free to stay and eat with us, if you’d like.”
She smiled. “Thanks, but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll head back to my flat. Do you need anything else?”
“No, I think we’re good.”
Twenty minutes later he had the briquettes going while Cora and Pete—worn out from a rough-and-tumble game of tug of war—lounged in a hammock strung between two gum trees, the dog’s chin propped on his niece’s shoulder. Both looked utterly content. Rescuing Pete had been the best thing his brother had ever done for his daughter, unlike a lot of other things since his wife’s tragic death. In fact, the last four years had been a roller coaster consisting of more lows than highs—with the plunges occurring at lightning speed.
He went in and grabbed the package of prawns and some veggies to roast. Just as he started rinsing the shellfish, the front door opened and in came his brother. Bleary, red-rimmed eyes gave him away.
Perfect. Lucas already knew this routine by heart.
“Was our cookout tonight?” his brother asked, hands as empty as Lucas’s stomach. “I forgot.”
His molars ground against each other as he struggled with his anger and frustration. Was this what love and marriage ultimately led to? Forgetting that anyone else existed outside your own emotional state? Felix had a daughter who needed him, for God’s sake. What was it going to take to make him look at someone besides himself? “Cora didn’t forget.”
His brother groaned out loud then mumbled, “Sorry.”
“I’m just getting ready to throw it all on the barbie, so why don’t you get yourself cleaned up before you go out there to see?”
The first two steps looked steady enough, but the next one swayed a bit to the left before Felix caught himself.
“Tell me you’re not drunk.”
“I’m not.”
“Can you make it to your bedroom on your own?” The last thing Lucas wanted was for Cora to come in and see her father like this, not that she hadn’t in the past. Many times.
Felix scowled. “Of course I can.” He proceeded to weave his way down the hallway, before disappearing into one of the rooms—the bathroom.
Looks like you’re spending the night on your brother’s couch once again, mate.
Lucas had impressed on Cora the need to call him if her father ever seemed “not himself.” The pattern was bizarre with periods of complete normalcy followed by bouts of depression, sometimes mixed with drinking. Not a good combination for someone taking anti-depressant medication.
He made a mental note to ask Felix if he was still taking his pills, and another note to make sure he arrived at work…on time! As he’d found out, it was tricky getting Cora off to school and then making the trek to the hospital, but if the traffic co-operated it could be done.
Otherwise that hard-won peace treaty would be shredded between pale English fingers.
Strangely, he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to disappoint her after he’d worked so hard to turn things around between them. Didn’t want to lose those rare smiles in the process. So yes. He would do his damnedest to get to the hospital on time.
And between now and then he’d have to figure out what to do about his brother. Threaten him with another stint in rehab? Take away his car keys?
He cast his eyes up to the ceiling, trying not to blame Melody for allowing his brother to twine his life so completely around hers that he had trouble functioning now that she was gone.
Lucas never wanted to be in a position like that. And so far he hadn’t. He’d played the field far and wide, but he still lived by two hard and fast rules: no married women and no long-term relationships. As long as he could untangle himself with ease the next day, he was happy. And he stuck to women who felt the same way. No hurt feelings. And definitely no burning need to hang around and buy a house with a garden.
Finishing up the veggies, he faintly caught the sound of the shower switching on, the poof from the on-demand water heater confirming his thoughts. Good. At least Felix was doing something productive. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the ale in the door and popped the top on every single bottle. Then he took a long gulp of the one in his hand, before proceeding to pour the rest of the contents down the drain, doing the same with every other bottle and then placing the lot in the recycle bin. If the beer wasn’t here, Felix couldn’t drink it, right?
