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Just Friends to Just Married?

Page 8

by Scarlet Wilson


  Several of her patients had HIV and tuberculosis. They still didn’t have a permanent obstetrician, but Joe had an interest in tuberculosis and helped her out with the complicated prescription regimes for her patients.

  She was completing the paperwork for a new patient when Lien wandered into the treatment room.

  ‘Hey.’ She smiled as she started loading up a trolley for a chest drain.

  ‘Hey. Oh, who needs a chest drain?’

  ‘The tourist, Mr Hom. We’ve just done a chest X-ray.’

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ Viv couldn’t help herself. She always offered to help.

  Lien shook her head then leaned against the wall. ‘No, I’m good, thanks. But how’s things? How are you finding it?’

  Viv was a little surprised by the question. ‘It’s great. I’m loving it.’ She gave a shrug of her shoulders. ‘Obviously it will be better when there’s a permanent obstetrician. But the closing date has passed, and Duc said he’ll look at the applications tonight.’

  ‘Yeah, Duc.’ Lien kept smiling, her eyes fixed on Vivienne. ‘How long have you two been friends exactly?’

  There was something about the way she said the word exactly that made Vivienne straighten up a little.

  ‘Since he was a medical student.’ She waved her hand. ‘Not quite as long as you two, but I met Duc in his last year when he was on one of his placements in England.’ She almost bit her tongue in an attempt to stop her babbling. What was wrong with her?

  ‘Were you always so tactile?’

  The question took her unawares. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You and Duc, you link arms, you hug, you hold pinkies.’ She smiled and wagged her finger at Viv. ‘It seems so natural to you both. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’

  Viv frowned. ‘It is. It always has been.’

  Lien gave a careful nod. She bit her bottom lip. ‘You’ve never thought about doing anything more? Becoming anything more?’

  Viv leaned back. It wasn’t like people hadn’t asked questions about their closeness before. But she’d always laughed it off with a wave of her hand. And being asked about it in the middle of the treatment room seemed odd.

  ‘He’s my best friend,’ she stumbled.

  Lien had the most careful expression on her face. Vivienne knew that her and Joe had recently married. They were a perfect match. Maybe she was one of those people that just tried to match up all those around her?

  But even as she had that thought, somehow, Vivienne knew Lien was nothing like that.

  Lien kept pressing. ‘Do you ever think it was meant to be more than that?’

  Her dark eyes met Vivienne’s gaze steadily.

  It was like a ripple of breeze from the sea back home had just jumped across the ocean to prickle her skin. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. But Lien’s gaze was unwavering. It seemed that not answering wasn’t an option.

  Viv knew she wasn’t jealous. Lien had her own husband and her own ready-made family. But she’d gone to medical school with Duc and had worked with his parents. Of course she would be protective of him.

  Maybe she was worried that Duc was vulnerable right now. Maybe, if the shoe were on the other foot, Viv would be the one asking the questions.

  Her stomach rolled over. The fleeting imaginary thought of Duc and Lien didn’t sit comfortably with her at all. Even if it wasn’t remotely possible. What on earth was wrong with her?

  A bead of sweat seemed to form instantly between her shoulder blades and snake its way down her back. ‘Once you take that step,’ she said throatily, her voice shaking just a little, ‘you can’t go back.’

  Lien licked her lips. Her gaze felt like some kind of laser beam cutting into Viv’s brain, exposing all the mixed-up thoughts and feelings she’d had for the last few weeks. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘You can’t.’ Her voice was clipped. She nodded her head at Viv, then put her hands on the trolley and turned and walked out.

  * * *

  Duc sifted through the application forms. Sen had written some notes on the top corner of each. She’d double-checked their résumés and their references. He couldn’t help but wonder who his mother would have picked to work alongside, who would have met her seal of approval.

  He sighed and leaned back. His mother had had things down to a fine art. She’d never offered someone a job then changed her mind when she’d actually met them. It was like she’d had a sixth sense for who would be a good fit for May Mắn. And Duc just didn’t have that.

  He didn’t want to make a mistake. This was a crucial post. It was essential he get this right.

  He needed someone else’s opinion on this. Someone who was grounded. Who could see past the padding on a CV. He smiled. There was one person he knew who could always cut to the heart of the matter.

  He looked out of the window. Viv wasn’t working today. She’d gone shopping to the local market, offering to buy them both something for dinner. He got up and walked over to the bungalow, quickly changing into a loose, long-sleeved top and a pair of jeans.

  He wandered through the streets, searching above the milling heads. There. A flash of the telltale red.

  She was haggling with the fish seller. The old man was looking at her in complete amusement as she spoke Vietnamese with a very Scottish accent. She was gesturing with her hands, and he could tell the seller was, in part, mesmerised by her. Just like a few others round about.

  Viv was wearing skinny jeans and a white long-sleeved tunic top. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, reminding him of a picture of Guinevere from a childhood storybook.

  She finally pulled some money from her pocket, shaking hands with the man with a broad smile on her face.

  ‘I take it you just used your Scottish charm?’

  She jumped at the sound of his voice. ‘Where did you spring from?’ But before he got a chance to answer, she raised her eyebrows. ‘And, no, I didn’t use my Scottish charm. I decided to just be crazy Scot number one—that is what you’ve been calling me, isn’t it?’ She planted one hand on her hip.

  The man behind her started to laugh, shooting a look at Duc as he handed over her fish wrapped in paper.

  Duc pulled a face, cringing. ‘Okay, busted. But, hey...’ he held up his hands in defence ‘...at least I made you number one instead of number two.’

  She shook her head and put the fish in the bag that she carried. He leaned in for a closer look. She’d managed to find some fresh vegetables and spices too.

  ‘Looks great. What’s for dinner?’

  ‘Aha.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a secret recipe.’ They started walking back down the crowded street.

  Duc was definitely surprised. ‘You have secret recipes?’

  ‘You know.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a secret to me too. I’m just going to bung it all in the wok and hope for the best.’

  ‘How about some wine?’ He steered her into a nearby store. ‘Or some beer?’

  Viv gave a shrug. ‘Whatever.’

  Duc grabbed a bottle of wine and a few bottles of beer. As he paid for them, he noticed Viv watching him, biting her bottom lip. ‘Something wrong?’

  She jerked, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. ‘What? No.’

  He shook the strange feeling off and joined her back in the street. ‘I was wondering if I could ask a favour?’

  She groaned. ‘You want me to do the night shift again.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. And thank you for the night shifts you did do.’ Not only had she helped with the large sick family—who had all recovered well—she was also more or less on call every night in case a woman arrived in labour. He spent most days just relieved that she was there. ‘What I was actually wondering was if you wanted to interview with me for the new obstetrician.’

  Her footsteps faltered. She stared at him. ‘Wh
at? Me?’

  He nodded. ‘Who else knows exactly what we need? I’ve got two potential candidates that we can interview via a video call. Will you help me?’

  She paused, and he could see her biting the inside of her cheek. ‘What’s a consultant obstetrician going to think about being interviewed by a midwife?’

  Duc shrugged. ‘Who cares? He or she needs to know that we are a team here. The normal hierarchy doesn’t apply.’

  She gave him a stunned smile, then gave an appreciative nod of her head. ‘Actually, I’d love it. Can I prepare some questions?’

  ‘You can prepare all the questions.’

  She nodded. ‘Okay, then, let’s find May Mắn an obstetrician.’

  * * *

  She’d changed back into her denim shorts and had thrown all the food into the wok, where it was currently sizzling. Nothing had turned black yet so it seemed as though dinner might actually be a success. Duc had appeared and was watching her with unguarded amusement. He’d changed into a fitted black T-shirt and jeans. The clothes seemed to hug his frame, highlighting his broad shoulders and the planes of his chest. She couldn’t help but notice the way the jeans moulded to his thighs and heat flooded her cheeks as she realised what she was thinking.

  She tugged at the bottom of her own denim shorts. Maybe they were too short? She was so used to being casual and comfortable around Duc that she hadn’t really given the clothes she wore much thought.

  ‘Is this the first thing you’ve managed to cook without burning?’ he teased.

  She shot him an indignant look. ‘I can burn it anytime. Just say the word. In fact...’ she waved her hand ‘...make yourself useful and get me a beer.’

  He cracked open the beer bottles and watched as she put the food into two bowls and carried them over to the table. It was odd. She was so conscious of his eyes on her. It wasn’t like Duc hadn’t looked at her before, but something in the air had changed between them. It was like someone had found a dial and turned it up a few notches.

  She grabbed for her beer as soon as she sat down, folding one knee underneath her. Lien’s words were still banging around in her head. She’d always laughed off any comment that anyone made to her about her and Duc. But this time she didn’t want to laugh it off. Because it had made her brain spin.

  She pushed a sheet of paper in front of him. ‘Here, some sample questions. I wrote them while you were in the shower.’

  He ran his eyes over them, elbows leaning on the table, a beer in one hand and a fork in the other. He took a bite of the stir-fry and looked up.

  ‘What?’ She hadn’t tried it yet.

  Duc stood up silently and walked to the cupboard, grabbing some spices and some soy sauce. He added some to both of their dishes, gave them a stir and sat back down. This time, when he lifted the fork to his mouth, he didn’t baulk in the same way. He gave her a smile. ‘It was fine.’ He smiled, clearly hiding the fact he wanted to laugh. ‘Just missing some taste.’

  Viv bent forward. It did smell more appetising now. She took a bite, and bit her tongue on the snarky reply she’d planned. This was good.

  ‘I’ve arranged another call tomorrow with Ron Jung, our advising obstetrician. It will give you a chance to review some of the patients with concerns again. He’s been so good, but we can’t keep relying on him permanently. We need to appoint someone soon.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Viv leaned her head on one hand and started twiddling a bit of loose hair. ‘What do you think of him?’

  Duc looked up, a little surprised. ‘Ron? He’s fine. Worked with my mother years ago. She spoke highly of him.’

  Viv looked thoughtful. ‘Have you ever thought of poaching him?’

  ‘What?’ Now he just looked confused.

  ‘Poaching. Stealing a doctor from elsewhere. Happens all the time.’

  Duc put his fork down. ‘You want to steal Ron? Why? He’s worked at the national hospital for years. He’s never expressed any interest in working somewhere smaller—much smaller. He has a whole department and a salary to match. Anyhow, what’s wrong with the two candidates we have for interview? I thought they looked quite good.’

  Viv leaned back, stretching her arms across the table. As she stretched, her short loose top crept higher and she only realised when she saw his eyes staring and lingering. She pulled them back with a bump. ‘Yeah, about them...’

  ‘About them, what?’

  ‘The first one will never stay. Just from the application form they’ve applied on a whim. Plus, he seems to go from job to job, never really staying anywhere.’

  Duc’s eyebrows rose. ‘Sounds like someone else I know.’

  Viv shot him a glance but ignored him. ‘That’s not what May Mắn needs right now. Not the staff and not the patients. They need an obstetrician who’s here for the long haul.’

  ‘And the other candidate?’

  ‘Doesn’t have any special knowledge about the issues in Vietnam.’ She put her hand on her chest. ‘A bit like me. We can’t rely on Lien or you to tell us about the most prevalent conditions all the time. We really need someone that knows about malaria, TB, dengue fever, Zika and chikungunya.’

  Duc looked her straight in the eye. ‘Someone like Ron?’

  She took a sip of her beer. ‘Someone like Ron.’

  ‘But what makes you think he might even be interested?’

  Viv leaned back and smile. ‘My intuition. Managing a big department isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’

  Now Duc smiled. He loved the way the Scottish words and expressions were scattered throughout her language.

  She kept going. ‘He has a huge team. Twelve consultants—twelve egos to manage. He’s getting older. He’s just had his first grandchild. He’s already told me he wishes he could spend more time at home.’

  Duc stirred at his food with his fork. It was clear he was thinking about what she was saying.

  She opened her hands out. ‘Why does anyone want to be a doctor? To help people. To make a difference. What if we could offer Ron a chance to finish off his career, with a bit more time at home, along with caring for those who need it most?’

  Duc shook his head. ‘It would be a huge salary drop.’

  ‘You’re telling me that Ron doesn’t already have his pension plans sorted out?’

  Duc pulled a face. ‘True. Knowing Ron, he’s had that sorted out since he was twenty.’

  Viv leaned forward. ‘I just get a feeling when I talk to him. He’s been consulting with us free. But he’s genuinely interested in the work that we do here. He’s been so enthusiastic about some of the cases—both the ordinary ones and the complicated ones.’ She played her trump card. ‘His mother grew up in the same street as Lien’s parents.’

  Duc’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

  She leaned forward even further. ‘Really. I think he has a vested interest in this area. How about we both do the consultation tomorrow? We could sound him out?’

  For a second he said nothing and after a moment she realised just how far forward she had leaned, and that Duc had a clear uninterrupted view of her cleavage. Her automatic reaction was to pull back, but something stopped her.

  Duc hadn’t looked away.

  Her skin prickled. Under normal circumstances both of them would have moved and thought nothing else about it. But Duc’s eyes were firmly fixed on the result of her folding her arms across her chest and leaning forward, allowing her V-neck top to dip a little lower than it should.

  A crazy surge went through her.

  She winked. ‘And see if I’m just crazy Scot number one or not.’

  Duc’s hand jerked at her voice, knocking the bottle of beer she was holding loosely, sending the whole thing tipping towards her.

  Viv jumped up, but not before the pale amber liquid was halfway down her top and shorts.

  ‘Sorry!’ he said q
uickly, standing up and following her as she ran over towards the kitchen sink, grabbing a tea towel to try to wipe away some of the damage. He lifted his hands automatically to help, grabbing a roll of kitchen paper towel.

  As she lifted the tea towel away it was clear her top was sodden and was clinging to her like a second skin.

  Duc started patting her down with the paper towel. He started at her waist and abdomen, and then moving up to her breasts. He seemed to be on autopilot, trying to right his mistake without thinking too much about his further actions.

  As his hands brushed against her breasts, she stopped breathing. He was only inches away from her.

  His hands seemed to freeze in mid-air. Almost as if he’d just realised what he was doing.

  She looked at him. His dark eyes were wide.

  Silence filled the air between them, but the air wasn’t silent—it sizzled and crackled, brimming with sexual tension.

  ‘Surgeons aren’t supposed to be clumsy.’ Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes focusing on the hands that had just touched her.

  Duc’s voice was lower and throatier than she’d ever heard it before. ‘Haven’t you heard? I’m not a surgeon any more.’

  Her eyes fixed on his lips. Her tongue came out and traced along the edges of her own, instantly dry, lips.

  Her move was like a magnet towards him.

  He moved forward. Just an inch. Close enough she could feel the heat from his skin. It was torture.

  This time it was she who moved. Her hands automatically reached out and ran up his bare arms to his shoulders. He let out a little groan as her palms and fingertips touched his skin, and it was her undoing.

  She closed the space between them, pressing her damp body next to his.

  Duc reacted instantly, one hand sliding around her waist and pulling her even harder into him. There was no question what was going to happen next. No doubt at all.

  And for all the shooting thoughts that fired through her head, there was one that overwhelmed all the others. Now.

  His lips met hers greedily.

  It was like a million little explosions going off in her body at once. His other hand slid through her hair, anchoring her head.

 

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