Fling with the Children's Heart Doctor

by Becky Wicks

  ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you Freya, but Elise isn’t here, she’s in Miami. I’m Olga, the neighbour. I’m just feeding the cats while she’s away.’

  * * *

  ‘Your mum’s kitchen is a lot like the kitchen I always dreamed about having, growing up,’ Freya said, accepting the cup of tea Lucas handed her. ‘The low beams with all the ivy and plants, the giant spice rack. That mosaic floor... I didn’t tell you, because I was too busy breaking down back there.’ She winced at the way the dinner had unfolded, putting the tea cup down. ‘What a night.’

  ‘What a night,’ he agreed.

  ‘I still can’t believe I forgot my mum was going to Miami. She only just got back from Iceland.’

  ‘You’ve had a lot on your mind,’ he said, offering a smile. ‘Sounds like your mother likes to travel. Like mother, like daughter, huh?’

  Freya chewed on her lip, deep in contemplation. ‘She didn’t tell me exactly when she was going, but she told Liv.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because you never pick up the phone.’

  He wondered if this fact had gone unacknowledged by her, the same as his reminder that both mother and daughter seemed to be inflicted by the travel bug. But then she sighed deeply and said, ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Anyway, about this kitchen,’ he said, changing the topic, ‘I didn’t know you cooked, too.’ They were sitting on the loveseat on the deck of his houseboat, gazing over the canal. They could see three bridges from here, his favourite Dutch restaurant, and a family of geese beneath the weeping willow on the other side. It was quiet and peaceful, just out of the city.

  ‘I don’t really cook, but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a nice kitchen for someone else to cook for me in,’ Freya said.

  Lucas wrapped an arm around her and drew her closer. For a second she seemed to resist his touch and he waited for her to add some sort of disclaimer, like, One day, I mean, when I decide where I want to live. But she didn’t, and to his relief she leaned in and pressed a cheek to his shoulder.

  He felt so bad for her, that of all the times they could have picked to go and see her mother, she hadn’t been home.

  Her face was pale in the moonlight and her feet were bare where she’d kicked off her shoes.

  ‘Listen, Lucas, I was just thinking how you said you’d been through this before. With someone you knew was going to leave the country. You meant Roshinda, didn’t you?’

  His hand went to his chin, then his hair. She might subconsciously choose to block her mother’s words out at times, but her memory was too good when it came to him. She seemed to remember everything, every word he’d ever said. She must have been thinking of Roshinda being in his kitchen with him while they cooked up their famed dinners for guests. He knew people at work must have mentioned them too. Joy was always hinting he should host more dinners again. ‘Yes, I meant Roshinda.’

  ‘How did you know she would leave you?’

  ‘I knew because she was never really mine in the first place,’ he admitted, looking into her eyes. If he didn’t tell her now, he didn’t know when he would tell her. What was the point in hiding his past mistakes anyway? She knew everything else that was bothering him, and he knew the things she kept from other people, too.

  He still felt bad for bringing up her plans for Vietnam in front of his parents. Freya hadn’t known how close he was to them; they talked about everything together. He’d had a stern word with himself for his moment of selfishness at the dinner table, which had sprung from a deep-rooted fear of another woman he had feelings for leaving him.

  ‘She had an arranged marriage to go back to,’ he said. ‘I knew about it when we got together, it wasn’t like she didn’t warn me.’

  Freya just blinked at him, no doubt letting it sink in. ‘An arranged marriage?’ She uncurled herself from the loveseat to face him. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘In Jaipur; he was a family friend, I think. Her father thought it would be good for the business.’

  ‘And you knew about it while you were dating? But... I thought you were in love.’ Freya looked bewildered, to say the least. He moved his gaze to the geese, who were flapping and fussing over something by the willow tree.

  ‘I don’t think her love for me ever came into it. She’d made up her mind to go through with the marriage to appease her family and no one was going to change that decision. Not even me. Looking back, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. She left for India the same week Fred was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.’

  ‘What?’ Freya looked mortified on his behalf.

  ‘I haven’t heard from her since. Not one word. Well, she sent the journals, I guess, but they weren’t specifically addressed to me.’

  ‘But didn’t you try and get in touch? Couldn’t you have just talked to her family, I mean? Lucas, she wasn’t bound to another guy with a ball and chain!’

  He shrugged, admiring how she was taking his side in the situation, even though it had long been over and done with. He pulled her to her feet, noting how right her hands felt in his. He had no attachment to the memories he was discussing now, he knew he had met the one woman who was right for him, even if she didn’t agree. ‘She didn’t want me to talk to her family.’

  ‘But you wanted to?’

  He met her beseeching eyes. ‘I did want to, for a while. Then I cut her off, the same way she cut me off, I assume. I had to put my family’s needs first, here in the Netherlands. I have a feeling her family and her husband don’t want me knowing where she is anyway.’

  ‘Don’t you ever wonder?’

  He studied her face. ‘Not any more. There are lots of other things to wonder about instead.’

  ‘So you never once considered getting on a plane, at least to go and talk to her?’

  He swallowed a growl, feelings his buttons being pressed. ‘How could I have gone to India, Freya? I’m needed here.’

  She was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows knitted together. He knew what she wanted to say. He could read her silence now. She wanted to tell him that if he’d ever really loved Roshinda, he would have made more of an effort to find her, talk to her or fight for her. These were all things he already knew, but something had always stopped him from doing any of them; more than his father’s illness, and more than his work here.

  ‘It wasn’t just the timing,’ he said. ‘I was angry at myself for a long time for getting so involved with her. I walked right into something I knew deep down wouldn’t last.’

  ‘It wasn’t just you, though, Lucas. She did that too. She knew she would be marrying someone else.’

  He considered that, scanning her eyes. He’d never allowed that thought to permeate before; he’d shifted all the blame onto himself and carried it around for so long.

  This would have been a good time for Freya to reiterate that perhaps she wasn’t going to leave the country after all, but a pained look crossed her face and he knew she wasn’t going to. He knew this thing between them...whatever it was...wouldn’t last either.

  ‘No one’s been here since she left, really,’ he said, when she still didn’t speak. ‘I suppose Sheba is a part of that. Not everyone is a fan of her, but she’s really cool, as you know, very gentle. Unless you’re a mouse.’

  Freya barely smiled at his effort to lighten the conversation, she just turned to gaze over the water and exhaled deeply. ‘You didn’t have to tell me all that, but I’m glad you did,’ she said, her tone flat. ‘About Roshinda’s marriage, I mean. I understand you can’t be with anyone who doesn’t know exactly where they want to be, Lucas.’

  His fists clenched at his sides. What could he say to that? They were at a crossroads, they both knew it. But they each cared about the other too much to say it, or even address it right now.

  ‘Let’s just make every moment count, then,’ he said with as much conviction as he could muster.

  �
�That’s probably the best thing to do,’ she agreed. Then she paused.

  Here it comes, he thought. Just as he’d grown to predict, her walls were coming back up, blocking him out the second she caught herself getting too close. ‘I do still have to focus on renovating the house, getting it ready to sell.’

  ‘OK,’ he said. He ran his thumbs across the back of her hands in his. It wasn’t good to push a woman, especially one with wings who might just fly away, maybe even before she needed to. ‘Want me to help you?’

  Freya looked surprised, then flustered.

  ‘I told you before, I know a lot of good people—designers, fitters, agents—’

  ‘Um...well, there’s no rush,’ she cut in quickly, and he bit back a smile. It wasn’t that she really wanted to sell the house, he’d guessed that much by now. She didn’t want to risk getting hurt either, the same way her ex had abandoned her, the same way her mother had ignored her. He was starting to see things about Freya that maybe she couldn’t even see herself.

  He took a risk, sliding his arms around her waist again, and to his relief she leaned back against him. With his chin on the top of her soft head he made his embrace even tighter. Freya was just so used to running from her past she didn’t know any other way to be. Maybe, if he played his cards right over the coming weeks, he could show her another way.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FREYA GASPED AND felt the breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding leave her body. Her arms looped around Lucas’s strong shoulders as he lifted her up, and her legs encircled his middle as she sank against him into the pure unbridled pleasure of his passionate, powerful kiss.

  She travelled to a different place whenever they did this, lost herself in a head-spinning carousel ride that she’d have happily stayed on for ever, somewhere slightly outside her real life. Lucas always seemed to be hungry for her, and he was kissing her now like no amount of kissing her would ever be enough.

  Somewhere in the back of her head she knew she was in the darkened movie theatre in the hospital, using all her free passes at once, languishing in the kind of behaviour even her teenage self would have frowned on. But it was dark, and he was sexy as hell, and she just didn’t care.

  There wasn’t even a movie playing. Lucas had just pulled her in here, locked the door shut after them and torn off her white coat. ‘I couldn’t wait,’ he whispered against her breasts and she grinned, feeling the stress of another day start to melt away, even though it was barely one p.m. and she had a consultation in an hour. ‘I’ve hardly seen you this last week since your sister got here,’ he said in a gravelly, raspy tone that seemed to echo between her legs and make her ache for him. Until...

  ‘Liv!’Freya cried, coming to her senses and scrambling off Lucas’s lap.

  ‘What?’ Lucas was breathless, shirt undone, his white coat draped somewhere over another red plush chair. She hurried to do her blouse buttons up, looking around in the darkness for her coat. ‘Liv is meant to be meeting me here at the hospital. I was going to take her to lunch in the cafeteria with Joy and give her the tour. Oh, God, she’s probably waiting for me right now...’ She shuffled down the row of seats to the aisle as fast as she could, leaving him to pull his own coat on.

  ‘And just like that, she flies away,’ she heard Lucas groan behind her.

  ‘To be continued!’she called back.

  * * *

  Liv smirked at her ruffled hair as Freya took her plastic seat at the lunch table. She was already in the cafeteria with Joy, with a can of soft drink between her hands. Liv and Joy had met earlier in the week for dinner at Lucas’s place. He’d cooked a special seafood dish for them all that he’d said had come from Mira’s imagination, but that dinner had been the only time Freya had seen Lucas outside work since Liv had arrived. She supposed she had been using Liv’s presence as a bit of an excuse for some time out from whatever they were calling this thing between them these days.

  In the absence of any word from her mother, still, she’d tried to focus on the house instead. She’d called some of the designers Lucas had kindly put her in touch with, finished up the rest of the painting with Liv. Busy, busy, busy. Selling the house would be easy, so everyone said, but she wasn’t too concerned if it took till after Christmas.

  ‘Glad you could make it, Liv,’ she said, smoothing down her hair.

  ‘I could say the same thing,’ Liv shot back with a grin. ‘And where is Lucas?’

  ‘Yes, Freya, where is Dr Van de Berg?’ Joy had the look of a sly cat now too.

  ‘Getting ready for surgery,’ she said, without looking them in the eyes. It was half-true. If he wasn’t doing it just yet, he would be just as soon as he got all his clothes on again. She could still taste his lips on hers, his musky scent was on her fingertips when she moved a hand to her mouth momentarily. Staying away from him was tough...near on impossible, actually. He was just as bad as her, keeping the fling going in spite of them both potentially heading in different directions.

  Hearing Lucas talk about his ex’s arranged marriage had hit home how careful she was supposed to be being with his heart, too, but there were moments, like just now, when her raging hormones still got the better of her.

  ‘What did you do this morning?’ she asked Liv, taking the cold can Joy passed to her and quenching her thirst. It had been hot in the cinema.

  ‘I took Shadow out, walked around. Did you see what they’ve done to the Pijp now? It used to be so dodgy, now it’s like...well, not quite as bad. Remember when we went to that store and bought those green lollipops, and you said you didn’t know why you felt floaty and light after you’d eaten yours? Mum laughed so hard! She didn’t even tell you off.’

  Freya had forgotten that. Her mum had laughed with her that time. In fact, Liv had reminded her of several occasions when happiness had edged its way into her teenage angst all those years ago.

  ‘It’s good to be back here.’ Liv beamed, resting her elbows on the table just as Freya was thinking the same thing; it was good to have Liv here. ‘Oh, I also took another box of stuff to the homeless shelter for you. I got a tarot reading while I was there.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m not sure I believe in that stuff, but Fayola saw a wedding coming up. I asked if it was mine and she said no. The artist was a waste of time, so I guess I knew it wasn’t my wedding, I’m too single. Happily single, mind you. Unless you have any more hot surgeons around here?’

  Freya smiled to herself, ‘You’re definitely over your break-up,’ she said, thinking back to her own tarot reading with Fayola.

  She was tentatively learning to trust Lucas, but this thing with her mother wasn’t going away and it still dominated everything. Her sister had been in town for a week now. It was good to see her, except when she brought up old memories involving all the lovely ‘family’ times Freya herself hadn’t shared.

  ‘There’s so much of Anouk’s old stuff still down in the basement. I thought we could sort through that together with Mum when...if...she’s able to make it when she gets back from Miami.’

  She’d done it again. It wasn’t Liv’s fault, this city held only good memories of their mother for Liv, but Freya hadn’t heard anything from her mother except a text to say she was sorry to have missed her when they’d driven round to see her. This time the communication breakdown wasn’t all on Freya.

  She wondered whether her mother really was sorry for how she’d behaved when Freya hd been small. Or was she avoiding her now, like Freya had avoided her for so long?

  ‘When does she get back from Miami?’ she asked, as Joy excused herself.

  ‘I don’t know when she’s back, I lost my phone, remember,’ Liv grumbled. Freya had forgotten, admittedly. Liv had left it on the tram yesterday and was still waiting for someone to get back to her, even though Lucas had reminded them both that miracles like that rarely happened.

 
‘Oh, look who it is. I thought you were getting ready for surgery.’ Liv’s face broke into a grin as Lucas came up behind her and put two hands on the back of Freya’s chair.

  ‘Not yet,’ he told Liv. ‘I have an hour or so before that to catch my breath.’

  Liv cocked an eyebrow. ‘Is that right?’

  Freya felt her cheeks flush.

  ‘Friday is the big one,’ Lucas said, sliding into the seat beside Freya’s. He took her can and drank from it, at least three huge, thirsty swigs, and Freya caught her sister staring at his mouth around the can, feeling smug that she was the one who got to kiss him. She knew exactly why he was so thirsty. ‘On Friday afternoon, we’ll be doing what we can for Anne Marie and Ruben’s baby,’ he said.

  ‘Lucas can save their baby via foetal intervention. It’s a breakthrough process he’s done before, several times,’ Freya explained to Liv. Liv just looked at Lucas like she’d never met anyone so dreamy and Freya rolled her eyes.

  Ruben and Anne Marie had agonised over the decision, and had finally decided that surgery before birth was the preferred option, even though it was going to be a tricky procedure.

  ‘I’m confident,’ Lucas announced, swigging from the can again. But she knew his eyes by now. She knew the lines of his face and how they betrayed his words in ways only she knew and felt. After Martijn had died he’d been lost for a while. His confidence had taken a knock, and he’d even blamed himself a little for not reading the signs, if there had even been any. Lucas Van de Berg wasn’t a man who let things get him down too long, but he was still going to find it tough, operating on a friend.

  ‘I hope the baby is OK,’ Liv said thoughtfully, putting a hand to Lucas’s arm suddenly and squeezing it. He nodded quietly, then Freya watched him put a steady, big, warm hand over Liv’s on the table.

  Another memory.

  Freya struggled to un-think it, but Beatrice immediately flashed to the forefront of her mind, with her ex, Johnny. They’d been in a club in a darkened corner, whispering and giggling the way they’d taken to doing without her, reminding her of how her mother used to do the same with her friends, always whispering, always planning to go places and do things without her.