by Lucy Clark
He knew, because he’d been there…was still there in a way. He hadn’t dealt with his feelings for his family, hadn’t addressed the entire betrayal issue, and even now he didn’t want to talk about it. He could, however, tell her about his crash, especially if it helped her to relax a little more.
‘Uh…after I crashed the car that I’d worked day and night to pay off, Joss came to Perth to visit me in hospital.’ Dex’s words held a strong touch of brotherly love. ‘He told me I was an idiot and a complete fool and that if I wanted to get out of town and away from everyone else I should move to Didja and help him out.’
‘And so you moved here, put some space between you and your problems and became the local playboy.’
Dex laughed at her words. ‘Local playboy? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.’
‘Probably not to your face, but isn’t that what you are?’
‘A playboy.’ He mulled the word over, folding his arms across his chest. ‘If a playboy enjoys the company of beautiful and intelligent women, perhaps I am.’
‘Do they need to be intelligent?’
Dex thought on this question for a moment. ‘I think it helps if you want to have a decent conversation with them.’
‘And do they need to be beautiful?’
‘Ah, and there’s a loaded question if ever I’ve heard one. I would have to say that there’s beauty and then there’s beauty—real beauty. The kind that radiates from deep within the soul.’
Iris was pleasantly surprised by his answer. ‘Careful, Dex. I might start to think you’re a romantic at heart.’
He uncrossed his arms and shifted in his seat, angling a little closer to her. ‘And I might start to think you actually like me.’
‘Well…’ Iris edged to the end of the chair. ‘We can’t have that, now, can we,’ she stated rhetorically as she stood, incredibly grateful that her legs were going to support her. ‘I’d best go in. I have Saturday clinic tomorrow.’ She picked up her wineglass and reached for Melissa’s, which was near Dex.
‘I’ve got it,’ he said, and picked up both the glass and the half-empty bottle. He sniffed the wine as they made their way over to Iris’s rear sliding door. ‘Smells like a good year.’
She stopped outside her apartment. ‘Would you like a glass? I could get a fresh one.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s fine. Thanks.’
‘Oh, I forgot you’d been to the pub earlier. Don’t like mixing beer and wine?’
‘Don’t like mixing medication and alcohol is more to the point. Joss has me on another lot of antibiotics from the surgery I had a while ago.’
‘That’s right. I’d forgotten about that. You were involved in an accident at the mine or something like that?’
He nodded at her vague description of what had happened out at the Didja mine. ‘The tyre of a mining truck exploded.’
‘Really? Those trucks are enormous.’
‘They are.’
‘It’s a miracle you weren’t killed.’
‘It is.’ There was a hint of seriousness to those two words as though once again Dex was facing some deep emotional decisions.
‘You had internal bleeding and gave your sister quite a scare.’ She nodded. ‘Melissa did give me more specific details but that was when I was in the middle of packing up to come here so things became a little hectic.’
‘Lis fusses too much.’
‘She’s a nurturer and she’s your sister. She loves you, Dex.’
‘I know. I’m really starting to see that.’
‘Caring for people is what Lis has done for so long.’ Iris opened the door and went inside. Dex followed, placing the glass and wine bottle on the bench. He looked around the room and noticed Iris hadn’t personalised the apartment in any way. The furniture that had been provided was all still in place but there were no books, no music, no pictures anywhere. If he needed a reminder that she didn’t want to stay in town, this was it.
‘And now she has Joss,’ Dex added. ‘He likes taking care of her.’
Iris smiled and Dex was momentarily stunned at the sight of her gorgeous twinkling eyes. No one would have guessed that not too long ago she’d been wrapped in his arms, crying. There were no tear stains on her face, no blotchy skin or red nose. Instead, she looked vibrant.
‘I’m really pleased about that. I’ve never seen Lis so happy. She has a man who really loves her and the brother she’s always wanted. I’m glad you agreed to meet her.’
‘I am, too.’ His words were spoken slowly and softly as though he’d given them a lot of thought, or was it that he’d given Melissa a lot of thought? Iris knew things hadn’t been too rosy when Melissa had first arrived in Didja but now everything really was coming up roses…or whatever they grew out here. ‘She is sort of wonderful.’
Iris slowly shook her head.
‘What?’ he prompted when she didn’t say anything.
‘You.’
‘What about me?’
‘Tonight…I don’t know, you’re just…’
‘Charming? Gallant? Incredibly witty?’
‘I was going to say you’re breaking the stereotypes I had assigned to you.’
‘Ah…haven’t you ever heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover?’
‘Yes. I’ve also heard that a leopard doesn’t change its spots.’
Dex chuckled. ‘I’ve heard that too.’ He walked towards the door, sliding it open, trying not to wince as his trapezius muscles made themselves known yet again.
‘Put a heat pack on it.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Your muscles.’
‘Oh.’ He looked sheepish. ‘I thought you hadn’t seen the wince.’
Iris nodded. ‘I did. I’m guessing you’re not as macho as you make out, either.’
Dex stepped outside. ‘I’m a lonely, wimpy little boy on the inside,’ he said, and Iris was surprised at the seriousness evident both on his face and in his words.
‘And on the outside?’
‘I’m a rugged superhero.’ He flexed his arms, his biceps rippling very nicely beneath his T-shirt. A second later he dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders, massaging one of them with his hand. ‘Seriously, though, I wear a mask. Just like everyone else. Even you.’
Iris wasn’t sure what to say to that so she said nothing.
‘See you tomorrow, Dr Tennant,’ he continued. ‘Sleep sweet.’ And with that he disappeared into the night.
*
Iris was up bright and early the next morning, mainly because she’d found it difficult to sleep. To know that Dex’s apartment backed onto hers, to know that he was on the other side of the wall was something of which she was acutely aware.
During the week she’d spent in Didja, she’d occasionally heard noises coming from his apartment but after last night, after she’d seen a completely different side to Dexter Crawford—a side she most definitely liked—she’d actually found herself listening.
Last night, he’d not only shown her compassion, he’d shown her he had far more depth than she’d credited him with. Dex had held her in his arms, had been supportive rather than inquisitive. As she’d lain in her bed, the ceiling fan whirring above, she’d replayed the entire conversation, the entire scene in her head and it was only then she had realised her own mistake. Embarrassment had swamped her as she’d remembered Dex mentioning her scars.
‘He was speaking metaphorically, you twit,’ she told her reflection as she dried her hair. She turned the hairdryer off and brushed the long locks back so she could plait it and keep it out of the way. ‘He didn’t know about your physical scars.’ She glanced at her upper arms as she spoke, the stretched, distorted skin mocking her.
Now Dex knew. He knew she was scarred. He’d felt the unevenness on her back and he’d been repulsed by what he’d inadvertently touched. She didn’t blame him. She was repulsed herself. Iris flicked the completed plait down her back and stood straight, looking at herself. The white br
a with tiny pink flowers was a complete contrast against the scars on her upper torso. One was pretty, the other was ugly.
She turned sideways to look at the marks on her back. The skin was worse here, more raised, more prominent if someone were to touch them. Someone like Dex. Iris raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes, unable to look any more. She knew the contour of every mark, she felt the emotional pain and anguish every time she looked at them.
They were a constant reminder of how she’d failed to save her husband’s life. The cruel twist of fate that had allowed her to live whilst Tim had suffered and died. She’d been there. She’d watched him die and there had been nothing she could do. The firefighters had smothered the flames that had caught her clothing, they’d wrapped her up and carried her out. Her last conscious sight had been that of Tim, lying there, surrounded by fire and thick smoke…dead.
Sniffing, she raised her head and forced herself to concentrate on taking deep breaths. She was due at the clinic in ten minutes and she needed to pull herself together. Work was wonderful. Work helped and at least today she wouldn’t be having to avoid Dex all the time. It was Saturday. She was the doctor on call and he was off…somewhere, no doubt with a string of pretty bimbos following him as though he were the Pied Piper.
Ignoring her scars by not looking at them, by pretending they weren’t there, Iris blew her nose and then finished dressing. After a quick cup of tea and a piece of toast, she headed to the little hospital.
‘Good morning, Iris,’ Bub said as Iris walked into the room. ‘Here to do a quick ward round?’
Iris scanned the ten beds. Three had patients in them. ‘A very short round by the looks of it.’
Bub waved away her words. ‘Oh, we may be small in numbers but we’re big on the need to chat.’ The experienced nursing sister leaned closer and said in a stage whisper, ‘Just don’t let Mr Bloffwith get started on his new irrigation system. He’ll have you there for hours.’
‘Right. Good. Thanks for the tip.’ Iris looked around, feeling a little bereft. She was used to conducting ward rounds with at least twenty other people. Surgeons, registrars, interns, medical students, nursing staff, dieticians, physiotherapists. She was also used to having far more than three patients to contend with. Still, as Bub conducted her to each bed, it was done in a highly professional manner. Things may be more relaxed out here but they were certainly efficient.
Once the ward round was completed—and Mr Bloffwith’s new irrigation system chatter neatly diverted—Iris thanked Bub before making her way to the clinic. As it was her first weekend on call, Joss had come over to open everything up and to make sure she knew what was going on.
‘Areva, our incredible receptionist, doesn’t work Saturdays. So it’s just you and the patients. We work the weekends on a first come, first served basis so you’ll find that some people will get here as early as possible and sometimes they’re even waiting outside the doors when you open them.’ He indicated the empty waiting room. ‘Thankfully, today that isn’t the case.’
Iris nodded. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine, Joss.’
‘I’m sure you will, too. Lis speaks very highly of you and I have to say that during the past week, I’ve been incredibly impressed.’
‘Thank you.’ Iris was pleased to hear such a glowing report from her new boss. ‘Now, why don’t you go and find your fiancée and spend some time with her?’
Joss grinned widely and Iris could see just why Melissa had been attracted to the handsome general surgeon. ‘What a brilliant idea. I think I’ll go and do exactly what the doctor’s ordered.’ He took a few steps away before turning back. ‘Oh, and if you need any help, if emergencies come in, contact Bub and she’ll get one of us here to help assist you.’
‘Right. Will do. Now go. Have fun.’
Joss grinned widely and nodded before almost sprinting from the clinic. Iris was left alone within seconds and she walked to the front door of the clinic, checking outside to ensure there really wasn’t anyone waiting.
With no patients to see, she decided to switch the kettle on and then make sure her consulting room was set up and ready to go. She did this. Still no patients. She made herself a cup of tea and drank it—slowly. Still no patients. Was it usually like this? What was the point in having a weekend clinic if no one was going to come?
She sat in the waiting room…and waited, scanning a few of the magazines, flipping through others and not reading a word. She checked outside the door again, looking up and down the street. A few people waved but no one came in. Iris returned to her consulting room, unable to believe that for the first time in…well, she couldn’t remember when, she was actually bored.
Sighing, she allowed her thoughts to wander and oddly enough they turned immediately to her handsome single colleague. She wondered what Dex was really doing today. What did most of the townsfolk do on a weekend when there was no Australia Day fair, when there were no fundraisers to attend? Surely they’d have sports out here. They’d have to or else the lot of them would go completely barmy.
Did Dex play Australian Rules football? Or did he prefer cricket? Maybe soccer was his game. He obviously did something athletic because when she’d been held tightly in his arms the previous evening, she’d noted the firmness of those muscles as he’d held her close. His chest had also been nice and taut beneath his T-shirt and she doubted there was an ounce of flab on him. Pure, solid muscle…and what delicious-looking muscle it was.
She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to really feel it. To run her fingertips over his biceps, to caress the solid six-pack of his abdomen, the broadness of his shoulders. She also wanted to plunge her fingers into his dark, unruly hair, to feel the texture between her finger and thumb. He had the most alluring voice, his tones rich and deep. His brown eyes, so incredibly expressive. And his mouth…
Oh, yes. Dex Crawford really was one in a million and she could quite easily drown simply by looking at him. Iris’s eyelids fluttered closed as she pictured him, so clearly. She sighed, long and slowly, as she leaned back in her chair.
‘Something I can help you with?’ Deep, husky, masculine tones washed over her.
Iris sat bolt upright in her chair, her eyelids snapping open instantly. Dex was standing in her doorway—lounging in her doorway—and the look on his face said that he was more than willing to offer her his services for…whatever she’d been thinking about!
CHAPTER FIVE
‘DEX!’
‘Iris.’
‘What are you…?’ She couldn’t believe how fast her heart was pounding in her chest, how breathless she felt and how she was so glad she was sitting down as she felt her body begin to tremble. She’d been sitting there, thinking about the man who was now before her, and she’d been thinking such tantalising things, she was sure she was also blushing.
‘Doing here?’ He shrugged and sauntered into the room. ‘Just thought I’d stop by and see if you needed any help.’
‘Uh…No, thanks, because, as you can see, all is quiet on the western front.’
He smiled at her words as he sat down opposite her. She wished he wouldn’t. She wished he’d up and leave, go as far away from the clinic as he could in order to give her peace of mind and a lot more breathing space than currently existed between them. She also wished he wouldn’t smile at her like that! Didn’t the man have any idea just how irresistible he was?
Of course he did. That was why he was here. He needed her to fall for him just like all the other women in the town. He needed to know she’d be definitely joining the line if there was another kissing booth in the future. He had an ego the size of Uluru and she’d do well to remember it.
She had to remember it because if she started thinking about the man she’d been with last night, the man who had offered compassion and comfort, the man who had been anything but a playboy, then she’d start to give in to the feelings he still managed to evoke just by being this close to her.
‘You don’t need to be here.�
�� Her words were a little more brisk than she’d intended. ‘It’s your day off, Dex. I’m sure you have better things to do than to hang around this place.’
‘Maybe I like this place.’
Iris raised her eyebrows at that. ‘Well, there’s nothing going on clinic-wise. It’s as dead as a dodo.’
Dex looked at her thoughtfully for a moment then clapped his hands together and rubbed them with mock excitement. ‘A quiet western front and dead dodos. This place is sounding more interesting than the pub on a Friday night.’ And Iris Tennant was a woman who was somehow continuing to interest him.
Last night, ensconced safely back in his own apartment, a heat pack on his shoulders, Dex had reflected on what he’d learned about his new colleague. A widow. Fire. Scarred body. If that wasn’t some serious baggage she was carrying around, he didn’t know what was. She may be stunning, she may have a sharp and intelligent mind, but he knew it wasn’t his job to help her work through that baggage.
After Catherine, Dex had firmly decided he wasn’t capable of having a fully involved, adult relationship. He’d messed up badly all those years ago, and that was the reason why he’d adopted the type of lifestyle that avoided emotional commitment. Serious romantic relationships would only lead to pain and heartbreak and it was a road he wasn’t prepared to travel again.
Iris, however, had travelled that road. She’d met a man, married him and then suffered a great tragedy. It was clear she was still grieving for her husband and as such, Dex could see that her own dreams would remain, largely, unfulfilled. No. He wasn’t the person to help her through this. Whilst he was positive the community of Didja would help heal Iris, he wasn’t the man for the job. She was a colleague. He would be helpful, friendly but that was all.
At least, that was the vow he’d made last night and so why he’d felt compelled to come to the clinic this morning to see how she was getting on was as much of a surprise to him as it had apparently been to her. What was it about the woman sitting opposite him that continually drew him in? He wished he knew because perhaps if he could put his finger on it, he’d be able to do something more proactive to lessen its effects.
