He hadn’t meant to shock her. He’d imagined that at some stage during this evening she’d guessed that he found her impossibly attractive.
That wasn’t a good enough excuse, was it?
Damn.
Emily had come here for security and, while he hadn’t actually lied to her, he’d held back the truth that he and Alex were nothing more than friends and business associates. And of course he should have shown more restraint just now. He should have known that Emily’s sense of trust was too fragile to mess with. For goodness’ sake, she was only a few days out of another relationship!
Problem was—he’d been looking for a distraction tonight, looking for anything to help him forget the barrage of tests he’d undergone at the hospital this afternoon. Tomorrow morning he would find out the results of these procedures and he would no doubt learn the cause of the headaches and vision problems that had plagued him over the past few months.
Truth be told, he was horrified. His career and, possibly, his life hung on the edge of a precipice.
Tonight had been all about forgetting—warding off fear, holding back the future.
But he’d been selfish. Of course he had.
He knew what Emily had been through. He knew she had trust issues—and, in all honesty, he’d known she’d thought he was gay. His health issues weren’t a good enough excuse for helping himself to a kiss that hadn’t been on offer.
Nor was the fact that he found her loveliness irresistible. He wasn’t the first guy who’d had that problem.
* * *
Emily lay awake for ages, stewing over men’s dishonesty.
The knowledge that she’d once again been hoodwinked was almost more than she could bear.
But, despite her anger, she was beginning to suspect that perhaps she shouldn’t have hit Jude. She felt rather guilty remembering the way her hand had stung, which meant his face must have stung even more.
He’d been rather manly about it, not even flinching, even though he must have seen the slap coming.
He’d taken it on the cheek and, at the time, she’d thought, Good. Serve him right.
Now she was beginning to suspect that she’d hadn’t really been hitting out at Jude, but at Michael. Michael-slash-Mark. So, along with her anger, she now had to deal with guilt, too. Heavens, she was Jude’s guest, and she couldn’t start a habit of slapping every guy who tried to kiss her.
It was ages before she drifted off to sleep, but in the end she slept deeply and woke quite late.
She took her time getting up, thinking at first that Jude could get his own breakfast this morning. But when she tried to resurrect the previous night’s anger, she found that it had weakened. Granny Silver had always told her that things looked different after a good night’s sleep and, more than once, her grandmother had been right.
Now, Emily felt guiltier than ever about her over-the-top reaction to Jude’s kiss. It hadn’t been a demanding kiss, after all, even though it had felt surprisingly intimate. Surely, she could have handled it more wisely and coolly?
She knew very well that a girl who didn’t want to be kissed shouldn’t stand in a hallway, smiling dreamily into smouldering grey eyes.
In the clear light of morning, she decided that there was no point in sulking. Jude had been very good about sharing this apartment with her and she just had to remember to be ultra-cautious in future. More head than heart—like Jude’s heroines.
At least, after last night’s carry-on, Jude wouldn’t want to repeat the kiss, so hopefully they could resume their friendship without any drama. She would suggest something to that effect at breakfast.
By the time Emily had showered and dressed, however, she discovered that Jude had long gone. The door to his room was wide open and she could see that his bed was made, his laptop closed and his desk was uncharacteristically tidy.
In the kitchen the kettle was lukewarm, as if it had been boiled some time ago, and there was a mug with a coffee ring and a plate with a smattering of toast crumbs in the sink.
It was rather frustrating. Emily had been ready to talk to Jude, to clear the air. Disappointed, she went back to her room to switch on her phone and check for messages. Even a nosy text from Wandabilla would be welcome right now, but there was something better—a voice message from her grandmother.
It was wonderful to hear her granny’s familiar musical voice and Emily rang straight back. ‘Granny, I’m sorry I missed your call.’
‘That’s all right, dear. I was just ringing to let you know that I’m coming down to Brisbane today. I have an appointment at the hospital.’
‘Not for anything serious, I hope.’
‘No, thank goodness. It’s my six-month check-up after my cataract operation.’
‘Oh, that’s all right then. What time’s your appointment? I can meet you at the hospital, then take you to lunch.’
‘Oh, Emily, I’d love that. Thank you.’
‘Me, too. I’m looking forward to it already.’
* * *
Emily didn’t like hospitals—they were so huge and clinical and grim. When she arrived at the ophthalmology department, she was told that her grandmother was still being attended to, so she sat in the waiting area thumbing through a very out-of-date magazine. She wished she’d remembered to bring Jude’s book to read.
There was plenty of action about the place, of course, plenty of people in white coats and always someone coming or going. Emily passed the time by people-watching, which she’d always found fascinating, although she’d learned not to trust first impressions.
In her job, many, many people walked into her office, and she knew very well that their exterior appearance was not always a true indicator of the health of their bank accounts, or the strength of their character.
Pity she never remembered this when it came to her love life.
She was mulling this over and flipping idly through the magazine when firm footsteps on the polished linoleum caught her attention. She looked up to see, of all people, Jude.
He was striding down the corridor, looking pale and worried. When he saw Emily, he stopped abruptly, and looked as shocked to see her as she was to see him.
‘What are you doing here?’ His expression was one of worry, mingled with something close to horror. ‘Are you following me? This is none of your business, Emily.’
‘I’ve come to collect my grandmother. She’s having her eyes checked.’
‘Oh, right.’ The furrows in Jude’s brow lessened marginally, as did the anguish in his eyes.
‘But what about you, Jude? You seem upset.’
His throat rippled as he swallowed, and for a moment he looked as if he didn’t want to answer her. He looked away, and his jaw squared and tightened as he stared hard at something down the corridor.
Remembering his awful headache yesterday, Emily was pierced by a nasty suspicion, but then his expression eased back into his usual good humour.
‘I’m fine.’ He gave her a disarming smile. ‘I’ve been having my eyes tested, too. I need a new prescription for my reading glasses, for working at the computer.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ She found herself releasing a huff of relief. ‘For a minute there you had me worried that it was something serious. That headache yesterday really knocked you out.’
‘No doubt because I need the new glasses,’ he said with a casual shrug. ‘But thanks for your concern.’ With a cautious smile, he added, ‘Does this mean you’re no longer mad at me?’
At the memory of last night’s kiss and its aftermath, Emily blushed, much to her consternation.
‘I guess not.’ She spoke frostily to counteract the blush but, in truth, she was more than a little ashamed of last night’s overreaction. ‘I’m prepared to call a truce.’
‘A truce?’ Jude’s right eyebrow hiked high. ‘Does that involve terms and conditions?’
‘Most definitely.’ Emily shot a quick glance about her and was dismayed to discover that several people in the waiting area were watching them with acute interest. ‘We can sort out the details later,’ she said, lowering her voice.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Jude replied in a low rumbling tone that set unacceptable vibrations thrumming inside her.
Perhaps it was just as well that her grandmother appeared then, full of smiles.
‘Granny, how’d you go?’
‘Wonderfully.’ Granny Silver beamed at them. ‘My eyes are better than they’ve been in a decade.’
‘How fabulous.’ Emily gave her a hug, but as soon as she released her grandmother, the elderly woman turned her attention to Jude. Introductions were necessary, and then explanations. ‘Jude is a writer, Granny. He writes under his own name—Jude Marlowe—and Alex is his agent.’
‘And I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs Silver. Both Emily and Alex have spoken so highly of you.’
‘Have they really?’ Granny laughed and sent Jude a flirtatious sideways smile. ‘Now, I do hope you’re going to join us for lunch, Jude.’
‘Sorry. I’d love to, but not today.’
‘What a pity. I assumed you came here to meet up with Emily. Are you terribly busy?’
Emily had been watching Jude during this exchange and she thought she’d caught an underlying tension beneath the surface warmth and politeness. She was sure he was still worried about something, but trying to hide it.
‘Why don’t you join us?’ she asked him on an impulse she didn’t quite understand. No doubt it was her conscience urging her to make up for slapping him last night. ‘Lunch won’t take up too much of your time, and you’ll still have all the afternoon for your writing.’
Jude’s eyes shimmered with an unreadable emotion. ‘Is this part of your truce deal?’
‘It might as well be.’
‘It’s very kind, Emily, but I—’
‘Oh, come on,’ urged Granny as she sensed Jude’s hesitation. ‘It’s not often that I have the chance to enjoy lunch in the company of a handsome young man.’
‘How could I refuse such a flattering invitation?’ he replied gallantly. ‘In any case, I have my car here, so I can offer you a lift.’
‘Wonderful,’ said Granny.
They dined at Granny’s favourite Italian restaurant overlooking the Brisbane River. There was no problem arranging for an extra place to be set at their table in a sunny corner with a view. Granny was charming company, as always, and Jude seemed to relax as he basked in the warmth of her smile.
He even turned on the charm as they ate their delicious meals—veal Marsala for Granny, mushroom risotto for Emily and gnocchi Gorgonzola for Jude. As soon as he discovered that Granny Silver was a great bird-lover, he chatted animatedly about sightings of terns and honeyeaters, parrots and bowerbirds. The old lady was delighted.
For Emily, it was all very pleasant, sitting in a stream of gentle winter sunshine, joining in the agreeable conversation while looking out at the boats on the river and the elegant houses lining the far bank. She was reminded of the many happy times she and Alex had dined with their granny. Pleasant memories were important—they helped counteract all the bad ones.
As they were finishing their coffee, Jude rose and excused himself. Moments later, Emily saw him talking to the cashier and realised that he was already paying the bill.
‘This was supposed to be my shout,’ she protested, rising from her seat.
She was stopped by a bony hand on her arm. ‘Don’t fret, Emily. If it bothers you, you can always talk to Jude about it later.’
‘I guess…’
‘Why not let your grandmother enjoy a little old-fashioned largesse from a nice-looking man?’
As Emily sat down again, both women watched the tall, dark figure on the far side of the room while he shared a smiling exchange with the girl at the till.
‘He’s just the kind of man you need,’ Granny Silver said in a confiding tone.
‘No. Don’t start that, Granny.’
For long seconds her grandmother studied her, a shrewdly measuring light gleaming in her lively blue eyes. To Emily’s relief, she didn’t ask questions.
‘It’s a lonely life,’ was all she said.
Yes, Emily knew the loneliness of singlehood all too well, but she was resigning herself to a life on her own. It seemed to be her destiny.
‘Look at you,’ she told her grandmother. ‘All the years I’ve known you, you’ve lived alone and you’ve always been the happiest, most stable person I know.’
‘I didn’t live alone from choice.’ Her grandmother looked at her with a wistful smile. ‘I’ve missed Jim every day of these past thirty years.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Emily was instantly filled with remorse. ‘Of course you have.’
Perhaps it was just as well that Jude returned then and they finished that particular conversation.
Playing the gentleman to the hilt, he helped Granny Silver out of her chair. ‘Now, where can I take you?’ he asked.
‘Granny needs to get to the station to catch the train, if that’s not too much trouble.’
‘My pleasure.’
Perhaps Emily shouldn’t have been surprised that Jude accompanied her as she saw her grandmother off at the station. After all, he’d been at his most gallant from the moment he met Granny.
‘I can see why you’re so fond of her,’ he told Emily as the carriage bearing the small white-haired figure in a lavender suit disappeared. ‘She’s charming.’
Emily nodded. ‘She’s always been super-understanding and ahead of her time, really. I think I valued her true worth when Alex came out. She was so sensitive and supportive.’ She shot Jude a smile. ‘You were a hit.’
‘Talking of hits…’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Emily said quickly. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to apologise for last night.’
‘So have I, Emily. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I was worried that I might embarrass you if I tried to explain. It’s not all that easy to tell a girl you’ve just met that you’re not gay so she’d better watch out!’
‘I might have hit you for that as well,’ Emily admitted with a small smile. But at least the subject was out in the open now, and she felt much better as they headed back to the apartment.
Jude, on the other hand, was subdued again. To make matters worse, clouds had arrived to block out the sun and the city looked grey and depressing and cold. Emily tried to make light conversation. They squabbled mildly over the restaurant bill and Jude insisted that he didn’t want to be reimbursed.
All the way home, however, she wondered about the problem that was troubling him. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ she asked.
Jude’s eyelids lowered as if he found her question tiresome. ‘I’m fine, Emily,’ he said in a bored tone, which made her feel like a fusspot rather than a concerned friend.
When they arrived at the apartment, he spoke almost sharply. ‘Right. I need to get to work.’
Without another word, or the suggestion of a smile, he disappeared into his room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Emily’s feeling of rejection made no sense at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
JUDE let out a soft groan as he leant back against his closed door. He hoped Emily hadn’t guessed that the pain had come back with a vengeance on the way home.
After a couple of calming breaths, he crossed his room, opened the drawer in his bedside table and snatched up the bottle of pills, downing two tablets swiftly, grimacing.
He sank onto the edge of his bed and felt the facade he’d
worn all afternoon peel away. He’d enjoyed the company of Emily and her grandmother. In fact, he’d been somewhat stunned by how very much he’d enjoyed lunching with them. No doubt he’d been grateful for the diversion.
But now he allowed himself, for the first time since he’d left the doctor’s office, to consider his fate.
There’d been good news and bad.
The doctor had been quite cheerful as he delivered the good news that a growth on Jude’s pituitary gland was not malignant. Apparently these tumours were relatively common and could be removed by simple, but necessary, surgery via the nose. The gland was not secreting excess hormones, so Jude was lucky in that respect. The complications should be minimal.
Then had come the bad news—and even the doctor couldn’t smile about the fact that the growth was pressing on Jude’s optic nerve, meaning that he would go blind if he didn’t have the operation. The surgeons would do everything possible to save his sight, but there was still a significant risk that the surgery might cause irreparable damage.
Significant risk. Bloody hell. Was that medico speak for we don’t like your chances, mate?
Jude had challenged the doctor. ‘Give me figures, man. What aren’t you telling me? Do I have a fifty-fifty chance of blindness? Worse?’
The fact that the doctor wouldn’t commit to a figure freaked the hell out of Jude.
Nausea rolled in his stomach now as he allowed himself, finally, to contemplate the full impact of going blind.
How could he possibly cope? Reading and writing were his life. He’d built his dream home in the mountains with spectacular views over the rainforest. His hobbies included observing the forest wildlife and hiking the rocky and difficult skyline. If he couldn’t see, his life as he knew it would end.
Under the surgeon’s knife.
Sure, there was Braille and there were talking books and voice activated software for his computer, but Jude’s independent spirit ranted and rebelled at the thought of using them.
He hated the idea of being reliant on others for support or help. He couldn’t bear it. Independence was in his blood and his bones. He’d learned it at his father’s knee. He mustn’t lose it. He mustn’t.
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