The Doctor's Gift

by Fiona McArthur

  * * *

  The hours flew by but Ailee couldn’t get the resignation in Lawrence’s face out of her mind. The young man with the overseas transplant weighed on her. She supposed it was a mixed blessing as Lawrence distracted her from worrying about her appointment with Fergus later that day, but she wished she could help Lawrence.

  As the clock crept around to five, Ailee put off her coming meeting with Fergus, and she dropped back to sit for a few minutes at the side of Lawrence’s bed. ‘How are you going, Lawrence?’

  ‘I’m not too bad.’ He looked at Ailee’s handbag. ‘Going home?’

  ‘I am. Soon.’

  ‘Mr McVicker said you’re a doctor?’

  ‘Yep. I’m Transplant Co-ordinator at the moment but I’m just filling in. How did you go with Trudy? Did she answer your questions about hepatitis B?’

  Lawrence’s eyes lit up. ‘She’s a special lady. You all are. She’s coming back to see me again tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Ailee said.

  ‘I thought everyone would think I was such a loser for going overseas and then being stupid enough to get burned.’

  ‘We make decisions on what we think is good at the time. I’m sure your reasons were there.’

  He raised his eyebrows comically but Ailee could see no humour in his sad blue eyes. ‘Yeah. If I didn’t go I wouldn’t be here. Four years on dialysis wasn’t for me.’

  ‘I’m guessing it cramped your style?’

  ‘That but worse.’ He shrugged. ‘I kept getting sick, and I couldn’t handle being put on and off the donor programme.’

  ‘Ah.’ She understood that. ‘Tough. That feeling of let down.’ Her brother could have been this man in ten years.

  He shook his head. ‘I’d get depressed and have a few days on the booze and be even worse off.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Ailee said. That happened too frequently, with young men especially.

  ‘Yeah.’ Lawrence scratched his head. ‘When I came into dialysis I’d be way overloaded in fluid. The cramps would kill me when they had to draw off the extra fluid. I thought I’d speed the process up and go for a commercial kidney.’

  Ailee said nothing for a moment then said, ‘Others have done it and been lucky.’

  ‘I wish I’d just done what Mr McVicker had said and waited.’

  So did Ailee. She liked Lawrence.

  He sighed. ‘It was a gamble but I wouldn’t have made the four years anyway.’

  Ailee’s gaze sharpened. ‘It was that bad?’ Just what did he mean?

  He avoided her intent gaze. ‘Not enough to live for.’

  Oh, Lawrence. Where was his family? Ah, orphan she remembered. His friends? Ailee shook her head slowly. ‘There’s always enough to live for.’

  His brows lifted. ‘Spoken like a woman in charge of her life.’ Lawrence smiled grimly. ‘I don’t have family, I can’t work because I’ve been sick for two years, my friends feel bad when they’re well and I’m not. It’s not much fun and I don’t see the point. I’m useless.’

  Ailee disagreed. ‘I don’t see that. Everyone can make a difference. Lawrence, you have experiences that new end-stage kidney-disease sufferers could learn from. Promise me you’ll give me a chance to help you help them.’

  ‘You sound like Mr McVicker.’ Lawrence mocked her. ‘He was always going on about what I had to offer. I reckon I would have topped myself a year ago if it wasn’t for Mr McVicker.’

  ‘He’s nagging you too.’ Ailee refused to give up. ‘That proves you’re special. I have to go now, but I’ll make a few enquiries, talk to some colleagues, and I’ll see you tomorrow so we can talk some more. Okay?’

  She rested her hand on his shoulder and left. She could feel the stinging in her throat for the sadness around Lawrence.

  He didn’t have a sister who would donate her kidney, and she wondered if she’d missed the times when William and all the other dialysis patients felt like Lawrence did. Depression could play such a large part in end-stage kidney disease and dialysis patients, and her new job was giving her time and space to talk more with clients than she’d ever had time for as a surgeon. What had started out as a favour for the ward had turned into a blessing in experience.

  She was so absorbed in Lawrence’s dilemma that she almost walked into Fergus. But she couldn’t miss the man when he stood in front of her. Couldn’t miss the swirl of his own special aftershave, the Fergus scent that she remembered, and the warmth of his body melding with hers despite the inches between them.

  Ailee looked up and unexpectedly he smiled down into her face.

  For a moment all she could do was bask in the gentleness in his eyes. She recognised that look and the way it made her feel. Something had changed between them today and suddenly she remembered why it was dangerous being around Fergus.

  Rita came out of her office and Fergus raised his brows. She opened her mouth to say something, looked at them both and then suddenly, inexplicably, she turned around and walked away.

  Ailee blinked. She’d been mooning and the warmth of embarrassment ran up her cheeks.

  Time alone with Fergus was a very bad idea.

  She’d forgotten the whole reason she’d backed away in Singapore. Lawrence’s situation should have reminded her like nothing else could that some decisions were not good ones.

  Fergus circled her elbow with his fingers and steered her towards the door. ‘Don’t overthink it. Come with me before you change your mind.’

  Ailee found herself marching beside Fergus like a new army recruit. Slowly her mind cleared and she realised what she was doing. She stopped abruptly. ‘Do you mind?’

  She shook off his hand and rubbed her arm. She was awake now and it was more important than ever to not become involved with Fergus.

  ‘I thought you might have bolted,’ he replied mildly.

  ‘Was that an option?’ she asked dryly. ‘I’m only here because the air needs clearing and I don’t want this,’ she waved her hand, ‘railroading that you seem to have decided on to happen again. You need to realise that.’

  Fergus ignored what Ailee had considered a good response under pressure. ‘I just want to talk. And talk when I can give you my full attention,’ was all he said.

  He stopped beside a bottle-green Jaguar, long and sleek with a waft of warm new leather puffing out with the air when he opened the door for her. He waited for her to enter. At least he didn’t try manhandling her into the seat.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and wondered if she might just say she’d changed her mind. He stared back, something in his face said he would follow if she walked away – and that they had to have this conversation sometime. She glared at him and eased into the luxurious car, sinking into the soft leather seat. For now, she’d have to accept her escape wasn’t in his plans, but that would be his only win.

  Capitulation wasn’t in her plans. He’d find that out. Soon.

  Ailee sat and he closed the door with a satisfied slam. She clenched her fingers and then carefully straightened her fingers so he wouldn’t see. She was darned if she’d let him know he put her on edge.

  Fergus glanced at her before he started the car. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  Fat lot of choice. She lifted her chin. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You don’t want to be alone. I want to be private. So, we’re going to my house. My housekeeper and her husband are there.’

  ‘And your daughter?’

  ‘Simone won’t be home for several hours. She has a self-defence class this afternoon.’

  Ailee laughed without mirth. ‘I need self-defence to stop people forcing me into cars against my will.’

  His lips twitched and she realised she hadn’t seen him smile much since Singapore. ‘I didn’t force you, I just leant in a little.’

  ‘Semantics.’

  He looked across at her as he started the car. ‘I’ll take you home any time you ask.’

  She opened her mouth, but before she could speak he added qu
ickly to qualify his statement. ‘As soon as we’ve had our talk.’

  Ailee closed her mouth again, but strangely she did believe his promise. It should have reassured her. Naturally, it didn’t.

  They lapsed into silence during the short drive, silent until they passed through remote-controlled gates, Ailee remembering she’d met this man in business class on an aircraft and that he came from a different world to her. The established gardens were green and luscious.

  The imposing white-columned building nestled like a shell surrounded by manicured lawns and a high stone wall that prevented those on the outside from looking in. ‘You have a beautiful home.’ She guessed such wealth showed his commitment to and passion for his job, because he surely didn’t need to work for the money.

  ‘It was my mother’s house, and before you ask, yes, I did have a mother.’

  ‘Would I say that?’ Suddenly she felt lighter, calmer and at ease with him. Maybe it was just because they were away from the hospital, but the warmth in his eyes told her he could feel it, too.

  He smiled. ‘You would say anything if I made you wild enough.’

  Ailee tossed her hair. ‘I don’t get that wild.’

  His eyes darkened and though he didn’t say it, it was as if he’d whispered, I’ve seen you wild.

  Suddenly their laughter disappeared and the silence in the car felt like a wind tunnel that sucked away Ailee’s breath and strength until she felt she could barely lift her head.

  Fergus dragged in his own breath and tore his eyes from her face. ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said.

  He climbed out, walked round the car then opened her door, and she accepted his help, powerless to resist. Fergus rested his fingers on her arm as she stood. He didn’t say anything as they walked towards the front door but his touch on her burned and her surroundings faded.

  An elderly woman in an apron, with a creased face and red cheeks opened the door with a welcoming, ‘Hello, come in.’ Bright eyes sparkled with delight.

  Ailee smiled. Couldn’t help it.

  ‘This is my housekeeper, Martha. Martha, Dr Ailee Green.’

  Martha and Ailee shook hands briefly.

  Ailee said, ‘Fergus mentioned you and your husband.’

  ‘Aye. And he’s mentioned you, too,’ Martha responded. ‘I’ve put tea in the library, Fergus. Ring if you want me.’

  ‘We’ll be there in a moment.’ Fergus ignored the lift of Martha’s brows as he steered Ailee across the black and white tiled entry and past an open carved wooden door.

  Ailee looked into the room as they went by and saw a round table with cups, a teapot and a basket of tiny cakes.

  ‘Was that the library?’ Ailee craned her neck.

  ‘Yes.’ But his hand moved to the small of her back as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’d like to show you something first. Please.’

  Could she? Could she trust herself? Ailee had the first flutter of panic as they ascended and Fergus didn’t look at her as they reached the next floor.

  ‘We’ll have tea in a moment. I promise.’ He stopped in front of another closed door and turned the handle, indicating she should precede him into the room.

  A moment... They’d have tea in a moment. She swallowed and tried to settle her heart rate with that tiny reassurance — surely not a lot could happen in a mere moment?

  This room was a bedroom, though not your usual bedroom, more of a 1920s showcase and a window into the past.

  The enormous four-poster bed was austere in maroon and gold covers, softened by a mound of cushions. A dressing-table shone with polish and several mirrors and a tapestry-seated chest gleamed in the corner. The room didn’t look lived in. And it obviously wasn’t his room. That had to be good. Didn’t it?

  But they’d be alone. In a bedroom. She looked up at him and suddenly imagined the exact sensations of a rabbit caught in headlights.

  Fergus paused at the alarm in her face, said, ‘Trust me,’ as he crossed the room and hesitated. ‘Just a little experiment.’ He stopped and in slow motion he pulled her gently in front of him until her back was firm against his chest so that they both faced towards the mirror.

  She could see their reflections in the glass.

  Her body was framed by his, her spine rigid and unbending against him, and her eyes and mouth were narrow with wariness.

  ‘That’s one picture,’ he said enigmatically. His eyes met hers in the mirror and she saw his intention before he moved, slowly, not to startle her and she realised the kiss was as inevitable as his hand turning her body to face him.

  She stood there, captive, and his beautiful eyes darkened to black and melted her resistance with barely any effort.

  ‘Ailee,’ he whispered, her name a part of the kiss as his lips descended. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she could do nothing but savour the homecoming of his mouth against her own bending to meet him.

  His lips were softness and warmth giving way to the slow build-up of heat and firmness, growing more demanding and finally plundering until her hands clutched at his neck, seeking purchase in the storm, and then she demanded right back.

  A slaking, satisfying, quenching kiss that she hadn’t realised she’d needed but once started couldn’t get enough of, and his arms held her safely away from the intrusion of the world into this timeless interlude her body needed but her brain denied.

  Finally, a few minutes or many minutes later, achingly slowly, he drew away and his hands held her shoulders until her legs regained their strength.

  She opened her eyes as he turned them to face the mirror again and a different woman stood there.

  This woman was flushed, her languorous eyes complemented red swollen lips and she leant back against him for much-needed support. Breathless and disorientated, her breasts ached and the fire in her belly throbbed in time to her heartbeat. She shook her head to deny they could share all that with one kiss.

  He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist before gently leading her across the room. ‘That explains a lot of things, don’t you think? Perhaps we’d better move on before it gets out of hand. This way.’

  Still holding her fingers he drew her past the bed and opened another door. ‘You can freshen up in here. I’ll meet you in the library when you’re ready.’

  Ailee nodded, still stunned and with the tiniest gleam of something else. Annoyance? Or was it frustration? Disappointment?

  She heard him leave and she sank down onto a stool in the ornate bathroom, rested her head back against the cold tiled wall and closed her eyes.

  It felt as if she’d climbed a cliff and jumped off rather than a flight of stairs and been kissed in a room. She wondered if he’d known it was going to be like that, how long he’d planned to do that, and if he was amused or perhaps as frustrated as she was.

  Whatever. She needed to explain her reasons, tell him about William, make Fergus realise he had to walk away before they got in any deeper, until she was free to live her own life.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Ailee entered the library and she avoided his eyes. Instead, she looked at the portrait above the mantelpiece, the figure in the frame dominated the room.

  ‘My mother,’ Fergus said, but Ailee didn’t need to be told that.

  The woman was tall, judging by the rail on the staircase she stood beside. Her hair, the same chocolate brown as Fergus’s, was coiled in a knot at her neck and the dark bedroom eyes were eerily similar to the ones Ailee had had no defence against barely ten minutes ago.

  ‘She was a beautiful woman.’

  Fergus nodded. ‘Simone takes after her.’

  Ailee half smiled. ‘So does her son.’

  She looked away from the compelling portrait and raised her chin. ‘You shouldn’t have brought me here, Fergus.’

  ‘That’s the first time you’ve called me Fergus since you left my bed.’

  After what had happened upstairs she’d known it was on his mind, but she hadn’t expected him to
be so brazen about it. His words struck low in her stomach and she sucked in her breath. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Don’t what?’ He narrowed his eyes like a hunter sensing prey, and she lifted her chin. Back off buddy. She turned her back on him, as if she didn’t consider him a danger, and walked to the window that looked out over the lawn. ‘Don’t remind me. Singapore was a mistake and I need to explain why.’

  He ignored the latter half of her sentence and concentrated on one word. ‘And what just happened, or nearly happened upstairs... was that a mistake, too?’ He raised his eyebrows, daring her to dispute the truth. ‘I’ve never felt anything less mistaken. We connected... we connect. The same happened in Singapore and then you left. With that ridiculous note, as if we’d shared a cup of tea.’

  She glanced back at him and the sombre note in his voice made her frown.

  He stroked the lid of the steaming pot Martha had left and then crossed the room to stand beside her shoulder, not touching – as if he couldn’t trust himself – but close enough for her to feel his heat.

  She turned her face away and he went on.

  ‘Why did you leave like that? You agreed we should see each other in Sydney. I didn’t dream that connection, Ailee. Did I?’

  He reached out with one long, elegant finger and lifted her chin until she was forced to look at him.

  This was a disaster. She should never have come. This was one hundred per cent his battleground and she needed to get out of there. ‘Yes, there was a connection, but I need air. Take me outside. I need to explain but I can’t breathe in here.’

  His eyes glittered and he gestured with a hand at a doorway. ‘You’re probably right. Walking away from you upstairs was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.’

  Oh great. They were both having control issues. Not what she wanted to hear. ‘Well, you’re larger than life in this room, too.’ And she wasn’t sure what would happen if he kissed her again. Something must have shown in her face because as she watched his eyes darkened again.