City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle / Bachelor Dad, Girl Next Door
Page 21
She grinned at him, her teeth gleaming in the subdued light. ‘Would you feel better if I said you’d been callous and cruel and I’ve never recovered? That I’m bitter and twisted with an abiding fear of beaches?’
He felt suddenly foolish. ‘Maybe not.’ But he realised that some tiny part of him wanted a sign that their exchange on that long-ago evening had meant something to her…even as he recognised his folly.
Her hands tipped the shell from palm to palm as she contemplated him for a moment. ‘Want to walk?’ she said, waving a hand vaguely along the beach. ‘Just along to the rocks and back.’
‘Sure.’ He levered off his runners and hooked his fingers into the heels. Sand sifted between his toes in a soft caress. When Terri moved away, he fell into step with her.
The gentle sibilance of the waves filled a small silence. He felt an odd mixture of relaxation and intense awareness of every move that she made.
‘You said something important to me that night.’ Her voice was deliciously husky, easy to listen to.
‘Now I am worried. Wisdom brewed in a beer bottle.’ He grimaced. Should he be embarrassed or pleased that she apparently remembered something after all? ‘What pearl did I drop?’
‘That one of the hardest lessons is not being able to save everyone.’
‘Ah. Yes.’ An echo of his harsh feelings trickled through his memory. Such bitterness and anger at the senselessness of his cousin’s death. What chance had Terri had to soothe his pain? Yet she’d tried after he’d pushed everyone else away. And she’d succeeded to a degree. Their kiss had distracted him. It was that he remembered most clearly about that night, not his grief.
‘You were right. Failure can be hard to live with.’ She sounded sombre. Was she thinking about her husband? Had she tried to save him after the explosion? He was trying to frame a diplomatic question when she said, ‘You were talking about Kevin, weren’t you?’
A shadow darkened his mood for a moment. His cousin had been young, full of promise, full of male bravado—a reflection of himself. ‘Mmm. I was still pretty raw.’
She tilted her head to look at him. ‘You were very close?’
‘We grew up together.’ The simple sentence couldn’t begin to describe their relationship. His throat grew thick. ‘Mum used to say that we were more like twins than cousins.’
They reached the rocks and silently turned to retrace their steps.
She stopped to throw the shell into the water then scrubbed her hands together. When she turned her gaze met his. ‘Dad said you were working on Kevin when he arrived at the scene.’
He’d forgotten that her father had been the local police sergeant at the time. It’d been her father who had pulled him away from Kevin’s body when the paramedics had arrived. A band of stiffness tightened around his larynx. He cleared his throat. ‘It wasn’t enough.’
In the small pause that followed, he watched a wave ebb, its highest point marked by a thin line of froth. ‘I felt responsible for the accident.’
‘Why?’ Her voice held only curiosity. Nothing more. Would she judge him when she knew the whole story? Every now and then he still wondered if he’d done things differently, if he’d picked his words more carefully…but thinking that way was pointless.
He flexed his shoulders, feeling the old weight of his dereliction. ‘We’d argued about his recklessness. Kevin rode as though he was immortal.’ He lifted his eyes back to hers. ‘Hell, I suppose we both did. He didn’t even make it through the first bend. I saw him hit the car head on.’
‘Oh, Luke.’ He could hear her distress, felt unexpectedly soothed by the knowledge it was for him.
‘I grew up after that.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She put her hand on his arm.
He stared down into her eyes for a long second, feeling his heart twist. ‘Still got that soft heart, haven’t you, Terri? I know it wasn’t my fault…now. At the time…’ He shrugged.
After a moment, he reached out to stroke her cheek, her skin soft and cool beneath his fingertips. She shivered and desire punched into him, shortening his breath, tightening his gut.
Would she resist if he pulled her close? Folded her into his body? Covered her lips with his?
Finished what they’d started all those years ago. Right here. Right now.
The connection stretched. Then she snatched her hand back, removing it from his elbow, and folded her arms.
He dragged in a huge breath and took a mental step back. ‘You’re cold. We should go in.’
‘Yes.’ Head down, she made a beeline for the trees at the top of the beach. Almost as though she was trying to escape. Had she sensed the desperation with which he’d held himself in check?
He smiled grimly. Surely if she had, she’d be running.
The silence between them wasn’t comfortable. Touching her had created a tension that hadn’t dissipated even though the physical link had broken.
‘So how are you settling in? And Alexis?’ Terri sounded slightly out of breath. Still because of him? Or was it the cracking pace she’d set?
He grasped at her change of subject, relieved one of them was functioning above waist level.
‘Okay.’ He thought of yesterday’s asthma attack and the dramatics which had preceded it. ‘Allie says I’ve blighted her young life by dragging her halfway around the world to the back of beyond. She wanted me to leave her behind with one of her friends.’
‘She must miss them,’ Terri said softly.
‘We’re only here for a year. She’ll make new friends if she gives herself the chance.’ He was dismayed by the defensiveness he could hear in his voice in reaction to Terri’s gentle compassion for his daughter. Frustration mixed with self-disgust. At least talking about this took his mind off the other source of frustration walking up the sandy path ahead of him. Though not entirely. Even in the dim light, he could see Terri’s slender hips swaying in her pale jeans.
‘What are her hobbies?’
‘Hobbies? Oh, hobbies. Yes.’ God, get a grip, man. What were his daughter’s hobbies? ‘Soccer. She plays soccer.’
‘There’s a junior soccer league she can join.’
He reached up to push a low branch out of the way. ‘Actually, that’s a damned good idea. Thanks.’
‘A year’s a long time when you’re her age,’ she said a few steps later.
‘It’ll be a bloody long time when you’re my age if she’s going to sulk for the whole time.’
Terri chuckled.
‘Thanks for the sympathy,’ he muttered, holding back a self-deprecating smile.
‘Sorry. I’m not really laughing at you.’ Kind humour mixed with the understanding in her soft words. ‘It must be difficult for both of you.’
‘Mmm. I’m only being spoken to when she can’t avoid it. The way she’s behaving I’ll need to get her intensive counselling to recover. Maybe I should book some for myself while I’m at it.’ He was making light of the situation but his heart was weighed down by the knowledge of his daughter’s unhappiness. There was no way around it. He was committed to helping his father for this year.
‘I’m sure you’ll work it out.’ Terri stepped onto the veranda of the cottage. ‘Well, this is my stop.’
He should go but her obvious relief made him push his welcome. Just for a few minutes more. A chance to work on his familiarity plan, give it another opportunity to kick in. Besides, he needed the small respite before facing the tension back at the house. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.’
Her pleased look faded. He suppressed a smile and waited.
‘Wouldn’t you?’ She turned her head slightly as though she made a quick inventory of the rooms. It made him wonder what she didn’t want him to see, but all she said was, ‘You’d better come in, then.’
‘Thanks.’
They wiped the sand off their feet at the door.
‘It’ll just be instant,’ she said, glancing at him as he followed her into the compact kitchen.
‘Coffee.’ She froze with the jar clutched to her chest as he stepped closer. ‘What are you doing?’
‘How’s your nose?’ Cupping her face, he tilted it to the light. Her carotid pulse jumped against the edge of his hands. Masculine satisfaction surged through him.
‘Fine.’
‘No sign of any problems after last night?’ Her skin felt soft and smooth beneath his finger tips.
‘No. None.’ She scowled. ‘Have you finished?’
Was he? His gaze dropped to her mouth. If he leaned forward, just a little, he would discover if reality was as delicious as his memories of their kiss. Temptation wrestled with good sense.
Then the opportunity was gone as Terri pulled back out of his light hold.
‘You won’t get your coffee unless you get out of my kitchen,’ she said tartly. ‘Why don’t you sit at the table?’
He stifled a sigh and retreated, slipping onto one of the chairs and allowing himself to follow her with his eyes. Watching her was like indulging in a visual feast. Filling the jug, getting out the mugs, spooning in the coffee. Commonplace, everyday things.
But there was nothing commonplace about his reaction. He shifted on the chair, easing the snugness of his jeans. To take his mind off her, he looked around the room. Ochre walls made the little room cheerful. At the end of the bench a distressed dresser displayed an eclectic collection of china. The cupboards had been stripped back and varnished to show off the warm grain of Baltic pine.
‘You’ve made the place nice. A vast improvement on when I lived here.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled slightly and switched off the jug. ‘I must admit I prefer butterscotch paint to wall-to-wall centrefolds.’
‘God, were they still up?’ An unexpected wave of self-consciousness threatened to heat his face as though he was an awkward adolescent.
‘Every single anatomically enhanced one of them.’ She slid him a cheeky look. ‘If I’d known you were coming back I could have saved them for you.’
He snorted, his momentary embarrassment evaporating. ‘I like my women more natural these days.’ Like you. The unspoken words reverberated in his head.
She smirked at him, obviously comfortable again now that he was at a distance. The devil in him wanted to see that composure shaken again, to know that he wasn’t the only one affected by this inconvenient attraction. ‘There’s another reason why I was so hard on you that night on the beach.’
She eyed him warily. ‘There was?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he drawled. ‘I fancied the pants off you.’
‘No!’ Her mouth opened in a perfect circle of shock. She blinked at him then burst out laughing. Nervous laughter that only lasted for a moment before she stopped and stared at him again.
‘Yes.’ He grinned, enjoying her reaction.
‘Oh, come on.’ Her movements were jerky as she turned back to the bench to pick up a spoon. The staccato clatter of metal on china filled the room. He could imagine her marshalling her defences. After a moment, she said, ‘You barely knew who I was.’
‘Oh, I knew all right,’ he murmured as she turned with the hot drinks in her hand. The only sign remaining of her agitation was the heightened colour in her cheeks. ‘You used to haunt your uncle’s racetrack.’
She handed him a steaming mug.
‘Thanks.’ He considered her over the rim as he took a small sip. ‘Your brother warned me off.’
‘Ryan? Did he?’ She wrinkled her nose in disbelief.
‘Sure. He warned off a few of us. He’d have dismembered me if he’d known some of the things I’d thought about you.’ Things he’d have liked to share with her…would still like to share with her.
‘I never realised. I must make sure I thank him for his interference.’ She shook her head, her lips curved with amusement. ‘And here I thought I was the most unpopular girl in school. All the boys wanted to be my friend but never my boyfriend.’
‘It was self-preservation.’ He grinned, raising the mug to take another mouthful. Flirting with her was fun—regardless of whether it was a good idea. It had been a long time since he’d done something just for the fun of it. ‘I half expected a visit from your brother after I kissed you that night.’
‘You thought I’d run home and tell?’ She gave him an old-fashioned look and signalled for him to follow her along the hall. Over her shoulder, she said, ‘Why would I advertise the fact that you’d rejected me?’
‘I wasn’t rejecting you,’ he said as she led the way into the lounge.
‘Oh, yes? I was kissed by the local heart-throb and then told he didn’t want to babysit. That was a rejection in my book.’ She curled into one of the overstuffed chairs and looked at him with a small enigmatic smile on her lips.
‘Local heart-throb?’ His cheeks warmed. This woman could really throw his system for a loop. ‘Give me a break.’
‘Tsk. I’m telling this story, not you.’ She waved an airy hand, dismissing his protest. ‘My poor seventeen-year-old ego was thoroughly battered.’
Luke grinned at her. ‘You seem to have recovered just fine.’
‘Some scars don’t show.’ She arched an expressive brow at him.
He felt his smile slip. God, she was so tempting. The offer to make amends was ready to leap off his tongue. With an effort he stifled the unruly impulse. That was not the sort of familiarity he needed to cultivate with Terri.
Shaking himself mentally, he looked around the room, his eyes settling on a collection of photographs on the mantelpiece. He stood and crossed the room to pick up one of the pictures. An unsmiling man stared out of the frame. Tanned, good-looking. Intense. He glanced at Terri. ‘Is this your husband?’
‘Yes.’ Her fingers curled around her mug and she blew on the liquid as though cooling it was the most important thing in the world.
The easy relaxed atmosphere was gone in an instant and he was sorry to have been the one to destroy it. He hesitated then said, ‘Mum told me he was killed in a landmine explosion.’
‘Yes.’ Her monosyllabic answers discouraged further questions. She was obviously troubled and he wanted to get past the barrier she was putting up.
‘Yesterday…’ He put the picture back and moved to the sofa. ‘You cut me off when I was going to offer my condolences.’
She shrugged. ‘Nothing will undo what’s happened.’
‘You were with him when it happened,’ he said gently as he sat down.
‘Yes.’ Her expression was shuttered.
‘Were you injured?’
‘I walked away.’ She hadn’t really answered the question and he sensed there was much more to the story.
‘It must have been traumatic.’
‘You could say that.’ She hunched over her mug, resolutely keeping her gaze averted.
The healer in him wanted to help, find the key so she would let him in. Anguish radiated from her and he couldn’t let it rest. ‘Any ongoing problems?’
Her head snapped up and she glared at him. ‘Why? Are you worried about working with me?’
Remembering his own grief after Kevin’s death and then with Sue-Ellen, his heart ached for her. ‘Maybe I’m worried about you, Terri.’
‘It’s not necessary and it’s not your place.’ Her lips barely moved as she grated the words out. ‘I’ve done the counselling. Learned to live with it. I don’t like giving people, acquaintances, chapter and verse on my life’s tragedies.’
He ignored the sarcasm, hearing the residue of pain behind it. He knew well the twin burden of grief and guilt. Regrets over Sue-Ellen’s death still tugged on his conscience.
‘What about friends?’ he asked softly. ‘We’re friends, at least, aren’t we?’
She stared at him coolly. A tiny tremble of her chin betrayed her before she set her jaw.
‘Well, if you need to talk…’ He opened his h
ands, making a small conciliatory gesture.
‘You’ll be the first to know,’ she said flippantly with a toss of her head.
‘I’m sure I won’t, but the offer stands. Any time.’ He smiled gently. He’d failed to reach her. Worse than that, he suspected he’d caused her more suffering with his well-meant probing.
There was a small silence and then she said, ‘Was there a particular reason for your visit tonight, Luke?’
He stifled a sigh. His communication skills with the opposite sex were not good at the moment. He’d alienated Allie and now he was doing the same with a colleague and friend. ‘I wanted to see how you were after last night. Plus, we’re going to be working together and—’
‘So you’ll be making these cosy calls on the other staff members as well, will you?’ She looked at him then, one eyebrow raised, challenging.
‘And I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of Dad with his MI,’ he continued smoothly, ignoring her interruption. ‘You saved his life.’
Her shoulders moved in a tiny shrug. ‘I was just doing my job.’
‘I know, but in this case the job was my father so thank you. He was lucky you were at the barbecue when it happened. Mum told me how stubborn he was about his indigestion.’
‘It’s hard for some people to face physical vulnerability. Especially someone as vital as your dad.’ She studied the liquid in her mug.
Was she speaking from experience? He couldn’t ask, not tonight. He’d already asked too much, definitely worn out his welcome. His heart squeezed and he felt the same frustrating helplessness as when Allie shut him out. The same…but different. This feeling was mixed with a potent attraction. More than anything, he wanted to scoop her into his arms, to comfort and reassure.
Bad idea. They had to work together. For a year. The sexual chemistry between them made it impossible for him to judge where altruism ended and lust began.
He had to keep reminding himself she was a colleague. Keep striving for that day when he’d know her so well this fizz of awareness would be a thing of the past.
The silence was broken by the catarrhal cough of a possum outside.
‘I’d better go. Thanks for the coffee.’ He placed his mug on the low table and waited a beat. ‘I’ll let myself out, shall I?’