A Special Kind Of Family

by Marion Lennox

  He tugged her in a little bit further. Nice.

  ‘Dom, I’m sorry I offloaded onto you,’ she said softly against his chest. ‘It wasn’t fair. You’ve done so much for me, and here I am, keeping you from bed, asking for sympathy when you’ve got so much else on.’

  ‘I don’t have enough.’

  ‘What, sympathy?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he said, looking down at her in the moonlight. ‘I suspect sympathy is the least of it.’

  ‘Me, too,’ she said, unexpectedly-suddenly tentative. ‘There’s not a lot of sympathy happening from where I’m standing. I knew I had to apologise. Now I have. So…so maybe we could move on?’

  A thought was occurring. An excellent thought. Maybe shared?

  Maybe crazy. Maybe not. Regardless, this was a thought worth airing.

  ‘So if I were to kiss you…’

  And, amazingly, she smiled. And nodded. A decisive little nod. Almost businesslike. ‘It’d probably do us both the world of good. Like a tonic.’

  ‘A tonic?’ He was losing the thread.

  ‘Something castor oil-ish. Something to give us both a decent purge. Reassure us we’re okay.’

  ‘You’re asking me to kiss you or book you in for a colonoscopy?’

  ‘Take your pick. I’ve imposed on your hospitality. It’s up to you to name the price.’ She grinned and raised her face. She jutted her chin in what he suspected was a gesture of defiance. To whom? To Charles? To her whole history? ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘It’s definitely not too much trouble,’ he said faintly-and then stopped speaking.

  He had better things to do.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I T DIDN’T quite work.

  He wasn’t holding her tight enough. She slipped a little as their lips met; his mouth brushed hers, too briefly, and the kiss landed off centre.

  She pulled back, just a little. ‘Whoops.’

  ‘Whoops?’ It wasn’t just his kiss that was off centre.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, then eyed him sideways. ‘I’m sorry. I’m strung up tight as a Stradivarius string.’

  ‘Stradivarius?’

  ‘Violin. You don’t play?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thank God for that.’

  ‘You don’t like violins?’

  ‘When other people play they’re fine. But my parents dream of me playing when my music talent is more suitable for…I don’t know…bongo drums.’

  Funny. Interesting. Excellent dinner-party conversation.

  Except they weren’t at a dinner party. They were right here. Right now.

  She might seem sure of herself, this woman, but talking violins when there was kissing to be done…that was nerves.

  ‘Are we getting distracted?’

  ‘I’m a bit nervous,’ she conceded.

  ‘Kissing’s much easier than playing a violin,’ he assured her. And before she could think of anything else to say, any other way to distract him-he tugged her tighter. He centred her so this time he couldn’t miss-and he kissed her again.

  Better didn’t even begin to describe it. Better, better and better.

  You didn’t get to be thirty-five without learning how to kiss, Even though serious relationships weren’t on his agenda, he’d had some very satisfactory frivolous ones-but nothing had prepared him for this. Not for the way she made him feel.

  It was like he’d been zapped by an electric charge. If he could see himself in a mirror maybe his hair would be standing on end, he thought with the tiny amount of head room he had available for analysis. Which wasn’t much, and what was available was getting less by the second.

  He’d expected a kiss. But this was a…kiss.

  From the moment his mouth met hers, nothing was as it had been. Nothing was as it should be.

  What was that word? Discombobulated. He’d never used it.

  He needed it now.

  For his thoughts were whirling, jumbled, out of kilter. His senses were centred solely on the fire inside, the fire this woman was creating. His brain felt short-circuited, circuits zapped and overlaid by sensations he’d never felt before.

  This was a need he didn’t know he had. She was melting into him and he was on fire. She was surrendering herself to him and it was the most exquisite gift…the most life-affirming generosity.

  Her beauty stunned him. His hands caressed the small of her back and he thought he’d never known a woman as beautiful. Her breasts were melting against his chest and it was as if she was merging into him. Two bodies becoming one, fused by fire.

  Her surrender was total. As his hands moved to her hips and tugged her closer he felt her rise to meet him, standing on tiptoe so her thighs were against his. He was responding with a fire he hadn’t known he possessed.

  She was the loveliest thing, the most beautiful woman, and amazingly she was opening herself to him, wanting him with a desperation that belied description.

  But…

  Desperation.

  The word clanged into his head, unwanted, uncalled for, but suddenly there, loud and clear. He had an armful of the most desirable woman in the world but suddenly the instinctive knowledge of her despair was overwhelming.

  Once thought, it couldn’t be unthought.

  She was letting herself sink into him to prove something to herself that had nothing to do with him.

  How he knew it he couldn’t say, but all of a sudden it was fact and the effect turned fire to ice.

  How the hell he managed to stop, to pull away, he never knew, but somehow he did. He put her far enough so that he could look down into her eyes and see if the word he’d thought had any reality.

  It did. She was gazing up at him, her eyes softly luminous, trying to smile, but there was confusion behind her smile. Her lip looked bruised, he thought. Had he kissed her so hard? She put her hands up to his head to tug him down to her again, but the sight of those bruised lips-of the confusion behind her smile-had him shaking his head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘N-no?’ His pause had shaken her. He saw her bewilderment increase, and it was almost his undoing. She was here for the taking. She was a grown woman, a colleague who was surely old enough to know her own mind.

  But still that word. Desperation.

  ‘Erin, why are you doing this?’

  ‘What…?’

  ‘I’d take you to my bed in a heartbeat,’ he said softly into her hair. Wanting desperately to increase the hold. ‘But I know you’re in trouble and I’m not sure you’re kissing me for the right reasons.’

  It was like tossing cold water over her. She pulled back a little, she gazed up at him for a long, bewildered moment and then slowly she tugged away. He released her with all the regret in the world.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she managed, but he could see that she did.

  ‘You’re injured,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve come here as my patient…’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You came here last night because there was a sign on my front gate that said Doctor. Didn’t you?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ she managed. ‘But that doesn’t mean-’

  ‘I think it does mean. You’re hurt. You came here for treatment and for refuge. For me to take advantage…’

  ‘You’re not taking advantage. Dom, you make me feel…’

  ‘Yeah, well you make me feel, too,’ he said ruefully. ‘I do nothing but feel when I hold you. When I kiss you. But you’re an emotional mess.’

  ‘I am not!’ It was said with such indignation that he almost laughed.

  ‘Okay, you’re not, so blame it on me. I don’t want to feel like you make me feel. It’s not that I’m not flattered…’

  ‘Flattered,’ she said, astounded.

  ‘What man wouldn’t be flattered?’

  ‘So you’re taking what just happened as…a compliment?’ She gazed at him incredulously. ‘You’re not gay, I suppose?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘So my pride ha
s to take it on the chin.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with pride.’

  ‘Oh, yes it does,’ she said bitterly. ‘Here I was practically launching myself into your arms…’

  ‘I believe I did some of the…launching.’

  ‘Well, bully for you.’ She sighed, a great gusty sigh that stunned him. She was like a chameleon, changing skins with mood. ‘Okay, maybe it was a bad move.’ She closed her eyes. Moved on. ‘So let’s forget it ever happened, shall we? You’ll still let me stay for Easter?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘Thank heaven for that. My noble host. Just when I want a hot one.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  She managed a smile at that. ‘And now the man apologises…Where were you when I was planning my life? No,’ she said, and put her hands up as if to ward him off. ‘Don’t answer. You were adopting kids, being noble, doing all sorts of stuff I can scarcely dream of.’

  ‘You rescued Marilyn,’ he reminded her. ‘That has to count as noble.’

  ‘So I did but it doesn’t put me in your league. Nope. You’re a wonderful man, Dr Spencer, and I admire you immensely. As one doctor to another. And you’re right. We need to keep this professional. So…as patient to her treating doctor…or even as colleague to colleague…I need to go to bed. Goodnight.’

  And without another word she turned and limped inside, down the hallway to her makeshift bedroom. Leaving Dom staring through the screen door after her.

  Feeling like there was no way in the wide world he could forget the events of this night.

  Feeling like his world had changed for ever.

  How was a girl supposed to sleep after that? She couldn’t. She lay and stared at the ceiling and thought of all the reasons why she should ring her parents and ask them to come and fetch her.

  They would. They were upset with her now but they knew their duty. They’d be appalled by Marilyn but if she insisted, they’d take her. They’d drive her back to their own home on the outskirts of Melbourne.

  They’d be dreadfully upset at having their Easter plans spoiled, but maybe their Easter plans had been spoiled anyway. Maybe Charles had already hinted that Easter was to be the time of the Big Announcement.

  And here she was, falling in love with another man.

  Falling in love?

  That was dumb. Crazy. Dom had pulled away because he’d sensed she’d felt desperate, and maybe he was right. Desperation, confusion, call it what you would.

  Confusion. That’s what it was. Because she’d never before felt like she felt when Dom smiled at her. When he’d kissed her it was like her world had blown apart.

  It had scared her. Terrified her. She’d felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and about to fall.

  Into what? She didn’t know.

  Dom didn’t want…permanence. He’d said that loud and clear.

  Neither should she. She’d met the guy for the first time less than twenty-four hours ago. It was way, way too soon.

  When, then?

  When was the first proper time that she could open her eyes and say she’d fallen head over heels in love with Dominic?

  How was a man expected to go calmly to sleep? Dom lay in his too-big bed and thought maybe he ought to trade it for a single. Hell, he had no use for a double, much less the king-sized opulence he lay in now.

  He’d bought it thinking of Ruby, how early mornings had been a contest to see who could dive into Ruby’s lovely squishy bed first. But he’d never got it right. He might do his damnedest as a foster-dad, but Ruby had something special.

  Erin had something special.

  She was as confused as he was. His family had been nonexistent, a scattering of dysfunctional people vaguely connected by blood, but nothing else. Erin’s extended family sounded much scarier.

  He thought of the battered little boys in his care and he thought of Erin being raised with the ghosts of siblings. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

  What would be worse, though, he told himself, would be complicating his life by hitting on her. When he had no intention-no capacity-to take it further.

  Why not? A spot of seduction, maybe even progressing to thinking about love?

  Love.

  For some reason that was what he was thinking-he, who’d never had such a thought before. But he was thinking it. Of loving Erin?

  Was he nuts? What would he end up with? A woman torn by guilt, raised to be duty bound to two sets of parents and a man who regarded her as rightfully his.

  Did Charles want her as much as he did?

  It was a dumb question. The whole situation was impossible.

  He’d made a vow, a long time ago, when he’d been used as a bitter connection, a rope in domestic tugs of war where neither his mother nor his string of stepdads had worried that he might snap. Domestic harmony was for others-he wasn’t even going to try.

  He’d had the odd relationship-who hadn’t? Until now he’d never wanted to push it an inch further than a casual affair.

  So why was Erin different?

  Because she was damaged, he told himself fiercely. He saw in her the same need he saw in his boys, maybe even in himself, but need was no basis for a relationship.

  She was here as his guest, using him for refuge. Therefore he had to apply the same rules he applied to his boys. All care but no ties, so when they left there was no heartbreak on either side.

  And as for the love word…When he’d known her for such a short time…That was being no better than his mother. Love at first sight was a crazy ideal, leading to heartbreak all round.

  Right. He had that clear.

  Maybe tomorrow he could drive her to her parents’ place himself.

  Or not.

  Probably not.

  She’d offered to help. He needed help. There was a very sensible reason for him to accept her offer.

  It was sensible for her to stay.

  Yeah, right.

  She slept badly, dozing and waking, dozing and waking. Once she heard Dom pad downstairs and let Marilyn out into the garden.

  He was a very nice man, she told herself dreamily in her half-sleep. She listened to him leading Marilyn back to her pups, then speak softly. She couldn’t hear, but she was willing to bet there wasn’t any mention of dog pounds.

  If she was seriously interested…

  Dom with his needy kids…Marilyn and her needy pups…

  Dom.

  She was seriously interested. Dumb or not.

  ‘Maybe I need to go to the Antarctic for a year,’ she muttered. ‘I can hone my skills with frostbite and hypothermia, and everyone can need me solely because I wield a great roll of sticky plaster.’

  But…how could she go the Antarctic when there was the faintest possibility of a repeat of that kiss?

  Dumb or not, she was staying right where she was. For as long as Dom let her.

  Easter Saturday.

  Dom was coolly pleasant at breakfast. If he could be coolly pleasant, she could too, she decided. He didn’t say anything about leaving, and if he didn’t, neither would she.

  Even though he’d told the locals he wasn’t doing calls, he was still the only doctor in the district. Patients arrived with the minor trauma of a country community. The phone never stopped. She ended up fielding calls-and enjoying it.

  ‘You’ve had a sore knee for months? Dr Spencer will be happy to see you, but not until Tuesday. He’s busy right now.’

  Actually, the doctor was examining puppies when that call came. Dom’s vet-friend, Fiona, had found an excuse to drive over and check for herself that her instructions had been carried out. Dom and the elderly vet were checking each individual pup. Erin had been the one closest to the phone and Dom seemed okay-even grateful-that she answer it. She glanced through to the kitchen as she replaced the receiver. Dom looked a query-doctor examining patients while stretched out on the kitchen floor in front of woodstove He smiled at her. Her heart did a silly backward somersault-and she was suddenly
even more determined to stay.

  Any more determined they’d soon have to prise her out of here with a chisel, she thought. Superglue had nothing on how she was starting to feel.

  After Fiona left, at Dom’s suggestion they took a family drive. No, make that a communal drive, she corrected herself. This was not a family-Mum and Dad in the front and kids in the back. Regardless, they headed out to her crashed car. Yesterday her feet had been too sore, she had been too shocked and Marilyn had needed supervision, but she really wanted her clothes.

  In the daylight the crash scene looked appalling. She’d been dead lucky. She and the boys watched as Dom climbed down the river bank and retrieved her overnight bag from the trunk-and her cellphone and her shoe.

  ‘A good scrub and it’ll be good as new,’ he said, handing over a blood-stained, mud-soaked trainer.

  ‘Yum,’ she said, taking the shoe gingerly. He grinned again and there it was. Slam. Backward somersault-with pike this time.

  They returned to the house. Dom saw a couple more patients. She tried not to think about that grin.

  She answered the phone and she baked.

  There was something really therapeutic about baking on a firestove. She couldn’t figure what it was, but her foot felt better every minute she spent there.

  The little boys loved it, too. She was getting comfort as well as giving it, she thought, watching them wrap themselves round meatloaf and apple pie for lunch. Dom asked for a second helping of pie, he smiled again…and wham.

  This had to stop. It was making her dizzy. She was out of her depth, diving too hard, too fast and not knowing where she was going.

  She met Dom’s gaze and his smile faded.

  He’s just as confused as I am, she realised, and the idea was…unsettling.

  Dom was clearly unsettled. He took himself back to his surgery to catch up on paperwork.

  He had too much work to do. Far too much for one doctor.

  An idea was seeding in the back of her brain. She refused to give it countenance. It was too soon. Way too soon.

  Concentrate on the kids, she told herself. Concentrate on anything but the way Dom’s smile made her feel. And this tiny germ of an idea…ridiculous.