The Latin Surgeon
Page 13
‘It takes some people longer than others.’ Swiftly Lara came to his defence.
‘Well, yes, I know.’ Annabel seemed a little taken aback and Lara got the impression she was the type of woman who was used to her friends agreeing with everything she said. ‘But five years is a long time, you have to admit—we really were worried about him. We’ve tried, heaven knows we’ve tried, to introduce him to the right sort of women…’
‘What do you mean, the right sort of women?’ asked Lara in feigned innocence.
‘Well—women like yourself, well bred, from the right sort of background, with the right connections…’
‘And none of these women matched up to what Andres wanted?’ Still the innocent look, but Annabel was frowning now.
‘No…but we were prepared to keep trying. But all that’s unnecessary now because he has you…’ She paused. ‘So tell me,’ she went on after a moment, ‘you are a colleague of Andres and Theo?’
‘Yes,’ Lara replied, ‘I’m a nurse at the Roseberry and I also work on a burns unit at the hospital in Surrey where Andres is doing locum work.’
‘Really?’ Annabel sounded surprised and Lara suppressed a smile, certain now that Annabel had decided that she was if not a fellow consultant to Andres and Theo then at least a doctor.
‘And your home—is that also in Surrey, or do you live here in town?’ she added almost hopefully.
‘I live with my sister and her children,’ Lara replied simply.
‘Really?’ Annabel didn’t have to pretend surprise this time. ‘Your sister…?’
‘Yes, she was involved in an accident where she was badly burned and her vision was impaired. Shortly after that her husband left her and their three children. I moved in to help out.’
‘That’s…amazing.’ Annabel stared at her and Lara had the distinct impression she was lost for words, that what she had just told her bore no resemblance to what she’d been expecting to hear or what she would have deemed appropriate for a partner for Andres. Thankfully, at that moment Andres extricated himself from the group that surrounded him and made his way across to the window-seat, where he sat down beside Lara.
‘Andres, darling.’ Annabel still looked faintly bemused. ‘Lara was just telling me all about herself.’
‘Is that so?’ Andres turned to Lara and as he did so he lifted his hand and, slipping it beneath her hair, gently stroked the back of her neck.
The unexpectedness of the gesture electrified her, sending shivers up and down her spine, rendering her speechless.
It was Annabel who answered. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘She was telling me about her sister and how she moved in with her and her children. I think that’s amazing.’
‘I think,’ said Andres as he continued to caress the nape of Lara’s neck, ‘that you will find that Lara is a pretty amazing sort of person.’
‘I’m beginning to realise that.’ Annabel gave a short laugh then, rising to her feet, she said, ‘We will shortly be moving on to this Valentine’s do at the club. I hope you two are still up for it?’
‘Of course,’ Andres replied smoothly. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’
‘I’m not what they expected,’ said Lara softly, as Annabel moved away.
‘So what?’ His gaze met hers and once again the shivers coursed up and down her spine. ‘You are everything I expected.’
She wasn’t certain quite what he meant. She only knew she was quite content to go along with the party as in a series of black cabs they moved from Chelsea to the club in the West End that was holding the Valentine’s party.
The interior of the club was seductively lit and decorated with heart-shaped balloons, streamers and strategically placed plaster Cupids. A live band played appropriate music and entwined couples swayed gently on the dance floor. They sat in a velvet-draped alcove together with Theo and Annabel and several others, and still the champagne flowed as ties were loosened and discarded and collars unbuttoned. Lara knew that sooner or later Andres would ask her to dance, that it would be expected of them, and sure enough the moment came when he rose to his feet and, turning to her, stretched out his hand. He took hers, drew her to her feet and led her onto the floor.
‘They are all watching us,’ she murmured as he drew her into his arms.
‘They will,’ he murmured back. ‘Better not disappoint them, then.’
It felt good in his arms, right somehow, as if it was where she was meant to be. Slowly they moved among the other couples swaying to the sensual rhythm. He held her close, so close that she could feel the beating of his heart and, with his head lowered, his cheek through her hair. They stayed like that, on the floor, content to be alone in the crowd for a long time, so long, in fact, that Lara had to remind herself that this was purely pretence, that none of it was real. But when Andres made a whispered request that she put her arms around his neck she was only too happy to oblige.
And for Lara, at least, the evening was over too soon and the moment came when they spilled out of the club in the early hours covered in coloured streamers and once again black cabs were hailed. This was the moment when Lara imagined Andres would arrange for a cab to take her home, but somehow they found themselves sharing with Theo and Annabel.
‘We’ll drop you off first,’ Theo said as they took their seats. A little later, when they reached Andres’s home and found themselves on the pavement, Lara realised that his friends had automatically assumed they would be spending the night together.
‘Sorry about this,’ muttered Andres as he unlocked his front door and Theo and Annabel waved from the rear window of the taxi.
‘It’s all right,’ said Lara, sad now that the wonderful evening was over.
‘Come and have a nightcap,’ he said, leading the way through the hall and into the drawing room. He brought coffee and brandy and they sat on the sofa and talked.
‘I want to thank you,’ he said. ‘The evening was a great success.’
‘You think we fooled them?’ Lara threw him a side-long glance.
He hesitated before answering. ‘I wouldn’t really like to call it that,’ he said at last.
‘But that is what we did, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Wasn’t that the whole point of the exercise, to take me so that they wouldn’t arrange anyone else for you and presumably to make them believe that you and I are in a relationship…or at the very least to bring home to them the fact that you are perfectly capable of, well, of moving on and of arranging your own affairs?’
‘Ye-e-es…’ he agreed slowly, but Lara thought he sounded uneasy. ‘The thing is,’ he went on after a moment, ‘I’ve enjoyed the evening immensely…’
‘You sound as if you didn’t expect to.’ She allowed a teasing note to enter her voice.
‘Well, in the past these things have been a strain. I think I told you…’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘you did. But this time was different—is that what you’re saying?’
He nodded. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘this time was different. I enjoyed it, and that’s something that hasn’t happened for…well, for a very long time.’
She knew he meant since Consuela had died but he didn’t say that. Instead, he stretched out his long legs and with his arms along the top of the sofa he rested his head on the cushion and briefly closed his eyes. It was the most relaxed Lara had ever seen him, and as she studied the lean lines of his profile her heart went out to him. Then quite suddenly he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. ‘Was it awful for you?’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘Well, they were so nosy, wanting to know all about you and your family.’
‘Didn’t you think they would be?’ Again she was gently teasing. ‘They care about you, Andres—they want to see you happy again.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘I know, but they can be rather overbearing, Annabel especially. She was quizzing you about Cassie, wasn’t she?’
‘Not really quizzing. She wanted to know where I lived so
I told her about Cassie and the children.’
‘And at dinner all those questions about your parents and your family background—I’m sorry, Lara, I should have guessed it would be like that. I should never have put you through it…’ He ran one hand over his head, the gesture somehow both apologetic and embarrassed.
‘It’s all right,’ she said gently, ‘really it is. I may not have given them the answers they quite wanted to hear, like the fact that my father worked in a small family-owned boatyard and wasn’t some shipping tycoon…’
‘Oh, God, were they that bad?’ He stared at her, appalled. ‘Oh, Lara, I am sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘But I do. I would never have you humiliated for the world. I suppose now you would never consider repeating the event?’
‘Repeating the event?’ She stared at him, wondering if he meant purely to fool his friends again. ‘I’m not sure we could keep up the pretence for too long. I’m sure someone would suspect, probably Annabel.’
‘I wasn’t meaning keeping up any pretence,’ he said softly. ‘I was thinking more about you and I getting to know one another properly.’
She stared at him, hardly able to believe what she was hearing, then, as an expression of pure tenderness came into his eyes, she felt her pulse begin to race.
‘Would you like that, Lara?’ he asked softly. Reaching out his hand, he gently touched her cheek.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘yes, Andres, I would.’ She felt a little surge of pleasure at his words but something deep inside her urged caution. This man was still on the rebound from his wife, and she had her own obligations. ‘I realise you’re not looking to replace Consuela,’ she said at last, ‘and that’s fine because my first commitment is to Cassie. So, yes, I would like to see you again but don’t worry that I’ll want more than you are able to give.’
He was quiet for a long moment, as if considering what she had just said, then he looked at his watch. ‘It’s late,’ he said, ‘very late—too late, I think, to call a cab to take you all the way back to Byfield. I think you should stay here for what is left of the night.’
She stared at him, not actually certain what he meant. Did he mean that they should spend the rest of the night together? Quite suddenly she was reminded of Sue and the comments she had made, implying that Andres would want repayment for arranging the job at the Roseberry for her. For a moment her blood ran cold. Was this what it had all been about? Had it all been a ruse to get her into bed with him?
‘You could stay in the room you used earlier,’ he said, his words explaining exactly what he meant.
‘Yes.’ A wave of relief swept over her, relief that there was no subterfuge, no trickery. ‘Yes, that makes sense—as you say, it is very late.’
‘Will Cassie be worried about you?’ he asked, and she was touched by his concern.
‘She will have gone to sleep but she may be concerned in the morning if she finds I haven’t come home, so I’ll leave a message on her answering-machine, telling her not to worry.’ She stood up and Andres also hauled himself to his feet and stood for a moment looking down at her, his expression somehow unreadable.
‘Thank you, Lara,’ he said at last. ‘For everything.’ Gently he put his arms around her and dropped the lightest of kisses on her forehead.
Lara froze, uncertain how to respond, wondering whether if at this point she showed any form of encouragement, it would indicate that she would be happy to spend the night in his bed. And was she, now that she knew there was no trickery on his part? Would she want that to happen? Part of her screamed, yes, that was exactly what she wanted, that she had been attracted to this devastatingly handsome man from the very moment that she’d set eyes on him, but the more sensible side of her urged caution, extreme caution. By his own admission he wasn’t yet over his wife, wasn’t ready for another relationship, and even though he had just expressed a desire to get to know her better, that did not necessarily mean he was ready to embark upon a full-scale affair. For Lara an affair, which included a sexual relationship, needed a high level of commitment, something which she very much doubted Andres was prepared to offer. She had learnt a harsh lesson with Sven, for he had been unable to offer much in the way of commitment and she had been hurt when he had left.
‘Goodnight, Lara,’ he said softly, making any decision on her part unnecessary.
‘Goodnight, Andres,’ she replied.
CHAPTER NINE
HE COULDN’T believe how he felt. All he knew was that he hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. He lay on his bed, his hands behind his head, totally unable to sleep, knowing that Lara was in a room only yards away from his own. He was amazed that the evening had been the success it had been. His friends, mainly Annabel, had quizzed Lara as much, if not more, than he had thought they would, but Lara herself hadn’t seemed to mind that, had even made excuses for them, saying that it was understandable and that they were only concerned for him. They had liked her, he was sure of that. He knew them all well enough to be able to gauge their reactions and he was confident that they approved of Lara—not that that should make the slightest difference. The object of the exercise hadn’t been whether or not they approved of Lara—it had quite simply been to stop them matchmaking.
He hoped Lara had enjoyed herself. He was pretty sure she had. He knew, somewhat surprisingly, that he had. It had started almost from the moment she had appeared, descending the stairway. He had been standing in the hall and as he had looked up the sight of her had almost taken his breath away. She’d looked absolutely stunning in a black dress that had revealed the creamy skin of her neck and shoulders and the soft curve of her breasts, while that wild, fiery mane of her hair had been loose, framing her face seductively.
When they had reached Theo’s and Annabel’s he had seen the admiration in the eyes of the other men when they had first set eyes on Lara, and it had boosted his ego to know that she had been with him. He had worried about her at dinner, especially when she hadn’t been seated near him, but she had seemed to take everything in her stride, including the relentless questioning about herself and her family. And later, when Annabel had trapped her in the window-seat, she hadn’t seemed fazed by the older woman’s interrogation.
But it had been after that, at the club, when the flame of something unbelievable had been ignited deep inside him. It had happened when he had taken her onto the floor to dance and she had seemed to melt in his arms. He had held her close, unable to believe the explosion of emotion that had gone on inside him. He had wanted her, there had been no denying the clamouring or demands of his body, and later when, once again, briefly, he had held her and gently kissed her forehead, he could have sworn that, unbelievably, there was a chance she might feel the same way.
But supposing he had attempted to take things further. Supposing he had made love to her and even now she was lying beside him? If that had happened, she would think that had been his intention all along, that he’d had an ulterior motive for inviting her to the party. And deep down Andres knew that was not the case. Oh, he wanted her right enough, just as there had been others he’d wanted since Consuela’s death, but they had been brief, momentary affairs, a slaking of lust, while this, with Lara, he knew was neither. This was more, much, much more. This was a reawakening of a feeling he thought had died with Consuela, but even more than that, this held some other emotion, something he was at a loss to define. There was a sense of excitement, of discovery, of the unknown—something, he realised in amazement, that had been missing with Consuela, maybe because they had always known one another and there had been no real voyage of discovery. But with Lara everything was different. Lara was new, unknown and full of exciting possibilities. But was he ready for that? Did he really want to embark on such a relationship?
And what of Lara herself? Would she be prepared to take things further? She’d seemed pleased when he had suggested they get to know one another better, but was she merely being polite? She’d already
indicated that relationships for her were difficult because of her home situation, that her sister still lacked the confidence to cope on her own. Maybe, he thought as he glanced at his bedside clock and saw that it was nearly four-thirty, it was time to put into action the plan that had been forming at the back of his mind for the last few weeks. But first he really would have to try to put all thoughts of Lara—and the fact that she was sleeping in his house—right out of his mind and try and snatch a few hours’ sleep himself.
When she awoke to the early morning sunshine that streamed through the bedroom window, Lara couldn’t for a moment remember where she was. Then it all came flooding back. The evening at the McFarlanes’, the dancing at the club and returning to Andres’s beautiful home, where it had been decided she should stay the night.
Just for one moment, when he had held her briefly and kissed her before wishing her goodnight, she had thought he’d been about to suggest they sleep together. At that moment she had wanted him, wanted him badly, and if he had so much as indicated that was what he’d wanted, she probably would have agreed. That she would, no doubt, have regretted it was something else entirely. With a deep sigh she turned onto her back. Maybe she should simply have thrown caution to the winds—let him know that was what she wanted. At least that way she would have spent one night with him and by now would know what it was like to have him make love to her. Now she would probably never know, for their little arrangement was over and was never likely to be repeated. He had suggested they get to know one another better and although she had agreed, her pulse quickening even at the thought, she now wondered if he’d simply said that on the spur of the moment and was now regretting it.
Half an hour later, after she’d showered and dressed, she joined Andres downstairs in the kitchen where he was preparing the most delicious-smelling coffee, together with rounds of hot buttered toast and chilled orange juice.
‘Hello,’ she said, almost shyly, when he looked up as she entered the room.