Healing Her Emergency Doc

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘So what held you up? Or were you just teaching me a lesson?’ he asked with a wry twist to his lips.

  ‘I’m not that petty—not that you didn’t deserve it after that parting shot,’ she said, trying to sound scathing while her heart was pumping furiously. ‘It was Millie. She was a bit funny about me going out again. I think she thought I was going to be on night duty and she struggles with that after all she’s been through.’

  ‘We can always go back to yours if you don’t want to leave her,’ he offered, but there was no way they were doing that, not with her heart leaping about every time he smiled at her, which he seemed to be doing rather a lot.

  She shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’ll be fine. She needs to get used to it.’

  ‘So what can I get you to drink?’

  Not alcohol. She certainly didn’t need that, and anyway, she was driving. ‘Sparkling water?’

  He ordered it and scanned the room, while she wished her heart would settle down and be just a little less happy to see him. This was such a bad idea...

  ‘Do you want to sit in here for a bit, or would you rather eat now? There’s a table over there.’

  She turned around and spotted a spare table tucked away in a corner near the window. She hadn’t eaten, but there was a knot of tension sitting like a ball of lead in her stomach. Still, he’d promised not to talk about that night—although at least that might stop her fantasising over the feel of his lips against her cheek...

  ‘Here for now, and then maybe eat in a little while?’ she said, her voice irritatingly breathless still, and headed across the room. It was only after she’d shrugged off her coat and sat down that she realised what an intimate feel the little table gave them in its cosy, quiet corner. Why, oh, why was she here?

  He brought their drinks over and sat down opposite her, and she picked up her glass and looked up at him. Not a good move. His eyes, always so eloquent, were unnervingly silent. Her mouth felt dry, and she took a gulp of fizzy water, her heart pounding even harder. They should have stayed at the bar. At least that way she wouldn’t have had to look at him.

  Please say something. Stop looking at me like that with those mesmerising eyes.

  He broke the silence first, his voice a low murmur as he cut straight to the point without a single nicety, his searching gaze holding her eyes against her will.

  ‘What did I do wrong, Laura? Why did you go?’

  Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she looked away.

  ‘I thought we weren’t going to talk about this?’

  ‘Yeah, we weren’t, but—it’s bugged me for years. I just want to understand. Did I say something to upset you? Do something? Or was it just to cut me down to size?’

  ‘No! Not at all. I wouldn’t do that. You know me better than that.’

  ‘So what, then?’

  She shrugged. ‘I just realised that sleeping with you at that stage was all wrong. It was only one night. What was the point of that?’

  ‘Who said anything about one night?’

  She nearly laughed at that. ‘What else could it have been, Tom? A week, max? We were going to different parts of the country, with no future, no prospect of a relationship. How was that supposed to work? It was doomed to failure.’

  ‘So why say yes in the first place? Why not just say no and have done with it? You’d had plenty of practice. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d told me to take a hike.’

  No, it wouldn’t, and that was why she’d moved back into halls at the start of the final year, because she could feel herself weakening. And then he’d left it to the last minute to launch his final charm offensive, and she’d fallen for it.

  She shrugged. ‘Call it a moment of weakness. Then it dawned on me it was just because it was your last chance before we all left, a final pop at breaking down my defences. And you always rise to a challenge. That’s why you’ll get this job. You weren’t really interested in me, Tom, you know that. I was just the last box that needed ticking.’

  He looked astonished, and she felt a flicker of doubt.

  ‘That’s rubbish. Of course I was interested in you.’

  ‘No, you weren’t. I’m not your type. You like tall, leggy blondes.’

  ‘You’re a blonde.’

  ‘Not in the right way, and I’ll never be leggy. Why would you want a dull and boring little academic when you could have any one of the party girls?’

  He frowned, his eyes puzzled. ‘You’re not dull and boring.’

  ‘I was compared to them. You could have had anyone there you wanted, and let’s face it, they all wanted you. They couldn’t understand why you kept asking me, and why on earth I should say no. I think they thought I should be flattered.’

  ‘Flattered?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Is that why you ran out on me? Because you thought it was just flattery?’

  ‘Pretty much. And anyway, I didn’t run—’

  ‘You did. I thought you’d changed your mind about me at last, and then you slammed on the brakes, told me you didn’t want to talk about it and ran away, and it was so unlike you. You’d never done that before, you’d always told me firmly where to go. It was just so out of character.’

  ‘Maybe you didn’t know me as well as you think you did. And I didn’t run, I walked, because I came to my senses, and I’m glad I did because otherwise I would have been so mad with myself for falling for all the nonsense.’

  He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t nonsense. I meant it.’

  ‘What, all that rubbish about me being sexy and beautiful? Come on, Tom. I’m not that gullible.’

  ‘It wasn’t rubbish—’

  ‘Yes, it was. You knew I’d fall for it, and you couldn’t bear to be rejected because that would mean you’d lost, and you’re hard wired to win, even if you have to lie to do it.’

  He shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘Oh, come on, that’s unfair, I’ve never lied to you, and whatever else you might be, you’ve never been unfair. Distant, yes, and standoffish, but unfair? No. It’s just not you. You’re better than that.’

  She read the sincerity in his eyes, and swallowed hard, feeling a little guilty but also stung by his words.

  ‘Am I distant? Standoffish?’

  ‘You can be. You have a very good put-down. I should know, you used it on me often enough.’

  He was smiling now, but it was a little twisted and he sounded hurt. Odd, that. He always used to laugh it off. His come-ons were always jokey—weren’t they? But there was a vulnerability in his eyes she’d never seen before.

  ‘You didn’t give up, though,’ she said slowly, wondering why not. Had he honestly thought she was sexy and beautiful?

  He smiled wryly. ‘No, I didn’t,’ he murmured, the smile fading after a moment. ‘You really believed it, didn’t you? That I was just saying it to get you into bed?’

  ‘Of course I did—it was a means to an end, the end being me in this case, but I didn’t want to be another notch on your bedpost. I’m worth more than that, and it wasn’t like you needed any more,’ she said, watching him wince, and then went on, ‘and anyway, you know the old saying about never belonging to a club that’ll have you as a member.’

  ‘There was no club!’

  ‘Oh, yes, there was, Tom. Of course there was, and all the girls wanted to be in it. And I realised that I didn’t want to belong to it, because that would make me just the same as them, and I didn’t want to be like them.’

  ‘You could never be like them. It’s was one of the things I liked most about you. And anyway, for the record, you’re not dull and boring, you’re a grafter.’

  ‘It’s the same thing.’

  ‘No, it’s not. So what made you go? Because the next day I found out you’d left, an
d I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.’

  She looked down, feeling a little guilty about that if nothing else. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I went back to halls, and I realised I just couldn’t face you again, so I packed my stuff and drove back to Suffolk as soon as it was light.’

  He shook his head again with what looked like regret.

  ‘I wish you’d talked to me, Laura,’ he said softly.

  ‘I couldn’t. I knew you’d talk me round if I gave you half a chance. It was easier to run away. And you were right about that, too. I did run, metaphorically speaking, but at least I did it with my head held high and nothing to be ashamed of.’

  He met her eyes, his filled again with something she couldn’t quite read. Hurt, maybe, and that vulnerability again.

  ‘Is that what sleeping with me would have been? Something to be ashamed of?’

  She looked away. ‘Not because of you. Because of what it would say about me. I didn’t want to be like my mother.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Yes, my mother. She’d sleep with anyone who’d have her. She would have been in your club without a doubt, given the chance.’

  ‘Wow’’ She felt his fingers curl around her hand as it lay on the table, the warm pressure as he squeezed it gently. ‘I’m sorry, that’s... But, you know, being with me wouldn’t have made you the same as her. Not that I know anything about her, but I know you, and you have a right to a life, Laura, to make your own choices. You would have had nothing to be ashamed of.’

  ‘But I would have been.’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘I wish you’d told me how you felt, talked about it then, instead of leaving without a word.’

  So did she, but she hadn’t, and it was done now. Been done for seven years...

  When she didn’t answer he let go of her hand and sat back, leaving her fingers cold and lonely on the table. She curled them into her palm and dropped her hand into her lap, trying to stifle the tingle of longing left by his touch, but it didn’t work.

  ‘Speak to me,’ he said softly, and she made herself look up and meet his eyes, warm and sincere and, yes, a little hurt, and she felt another pang of guilt.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said with a wash of remorse. ‘I honestly didn’t mean to hurt you. It didn’t occur to me for a moment that you’d really care, but I still shouldn’t have left it like that. I should have explained, but I knew you’d talk me round and I didn’t want that. You’re a heartbreaker, Tom, and I didn’t want my heart broken, but you’re right, I owed you more than that. You deserved better, and at the very least I should have said goodbye.’

  His smile was touched with sadness. ‘Yes, you should. I would have listened, would have understood. Still, it’s all water under the bridge now. I’m sure we’ve both moved on.’

  He held her eyes for a long moment, then hauled in a breath and glanced at his watch. ‘It’s eight o’clock. I suppose we ought to think about food. Do you want to eat here, or go and find somewhere else?’

  The abrupt change of subject made her blink, but she felt her stomach rumble and realised she was hungry. And it might be good to catch up with what he’d been doing and where, and put all this behind them. She smiled at him.

  ‘There’s a decent Thai restaurant down on the sea front. Want to give it a go? We can walk, it’s not far.’

  ‘Yeah, why not? That sounds nice.’

  * * *

  It was nice.

  Rather too nice, in fact. She’d forgotten how funny he was, how well they’d got on when he wasn’t trying to convince her to go to bed with him.

  They walked along the prom, listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the sea defences as they made their way to the little restaurant, the brisk February wind making them hurry.

  They shared several dishes, fighting over the last tiger prawn, and she lost—only she didn’t, because he speared it and held it out to her, leaning over the table and holding it to her lips.

  She opened her mouth and took it, and it seemed suddenly shockingly intimate, shockingly sensual and—her body was rioting, her eyes locked on his, and all the sensible reasons why she shouldn’t touch him with a barge pole flew out of the window.

  Then he broke the searing eye contact and put his fork down.

  ‘Right, I think we’re done,’ he said, his voice sounding a little odd as he pushed his plate away and attracted the waitress’s attention. ‘Can we have the bill, please?’

  ‘I’ll pay—’

  ‘No, you won’t. This was my idea. You can pay next time.’

  ‘What, in seven years?’ she said, and he laughed and looked away at the card machine, leaving her breathless with longing and wishing she hadn’t chickened out that night, and then she might not have spent the last seven years telling herself she’d done the right thing and regretting her missed opportunity.

  ‘Right, let’s go.’

  He got to his feet, smiled at the waitress and held Laura’s coat for her as she put it on, his hands settling it gently round her shoulders, lifting her hair free with warm, careful fingers that left little rivers of fire in their wake. He shrugged into his jacket, opened the door for her and they walked back up towards his hotel.

  And then he tripped on the kerb as they crossed the road, and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Whoa! You OK?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ He straightened up and shook his head. ‘Sorry. I just didn’t see that.’

  ‘Are you going blind, or was that just an excuse to grab me?’ she teased, and then wondered why she’d opened her mouth because she could suddenly feel the tension between them zinging in the cold night air.

  ‘Rumbled,’ he said lightly, and dropped her arm as if it was red hot. He set off again without another word, but she could feel the imprint of his fingers on her arm all the way back to the hotel, warm and tingling.

  ‘Did you walk or drive?’ he said as they reached the entrance to the car park.

  ‘I drove, because I was already late. My car’s just here.’

  They paused beside it, his face shadowed by the light above him so she couldn’t read his eyes, but the zing was still there.

  ‘D’you fancy a coffee?’ he asked, his voice low. ‘The bar’s still open.’

  Coffee? Coffee wasn’t even on her radar, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t on his, either, but still she hesitated for longer than she should have.

  ‘No, I—I’d better go. Millie. But thank you for a lovely dinner. It was good to catch up—to sort things out.’

  ‘It was. Although I wish we’d done it seven years ago.’

  ‘What, and given you a chance to talk me round? No way.’

  He gave a soft huff of laughter, and shook his head, his expression wry. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’

  ‘You can talk.’

  She hesitated for a second, then, ignoring the little voice of warning squealing in the background, she went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss against his cheek, the soft rasp of stubble against her lips lighting more fires that raced through her veins. She dropped back onto her heels and took a tiny step back.

  ‘I need to go,’ she said, her voice oddly breathless.

  He nodded. ‘Probably wise.’

  And then he paused, his lips pursing thoughtfully before he spoke again, his voice low and somehow sad. ‘I’m sorry, Laura.’

  ‘What about? Just being you?’

  ‘No. The job thing. I should pull out—’

  ‘No! No, Tom, you shouldn’t. And anyway, there’s nothing to say they’ll give it to you,’ she added with a teasing smile. ‘Maybe they’ll give it to me. Miracles have been known to happen. And I certainly don’t need the condescension of your grand gestures. I’m quite employable, you know.’

  It was meant as a joke, and she was relieved when his mouth tipped into a crooked smile.
‘Well, that would be poetic justice. Teach me to be so arrogant. Perhaps I should have been apologising for being me.’

  She felt another pang of guilt, but before she could speak he bent his head and touched his lips lightly to hers, then straightened up, leaving her mouth tingling. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.’

  ‘We could meet for coffee before,’ she said, suddenly realising that it might be their last chance to spend time together and surprised that she didn’t want that to happen.

  ‘Make it breakfast. Nine?’

  ‘OK. The Park Café near the ED is nice. We could meet there?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  She nodded, telling herself she ought to go before she could do anything rash like kiss him again, but for some reason she hesitated, her heart suddenly starting to pound as their eyes locked in the semi-darkness, her breath catching as everything seemed to go into slow motion.

  His breath drifted over her skin, making her nerve endings dance, and his hand came up and touched her face, his fingers gentle as he stared down at her with those dark eyes. She still couldn’t read them, but she could read the hitch in his breath, the tension in his body as his arms slid round her, and she sank against the solid warmth of his chest and lifted her mouth to his.

  * * *

  He’d forgotten.

  Forgotten how it had felt to kiss her, how eager and filled with longing her mouth had been, how much he’d wanted her, and as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, he felt the years roll away, the sense of loss, regret, disappointment all fading away and taking them right back to that last night, when they’d come so close...

  He couldn’t let her go—not now, when fate had given them one last chance.

  ‘Stay with me,’ he murmured, kissing her, nibbling her lips, brushing his mouth back and forth against hers and feeling the soft drag of their damp lips clinging.

  She eased away, doubt in her eyes—doubt, and a longing he’d never really seen before. Maybe never been allowed to see. Or maybe in the darkness he was just seeing what he wanted to see...

  He cradled her cheek in his hand, his heart pounding. ‘Stay with me,’ he said again, clearly this time, his voice soft and coaxing and a little gruff because he wanted her so much.