City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle

CHAPTER EIGHT

TERRI sifted cool sand through her toes beneath a shallow wave. Her walk along the beach had restored a degree of calmness.

Seeing Luke today, being near him after the explosive embrace yesterday, had been impossible. She’d reacted like the gauchest schoolgirl. Embarrassing, but she’d been unable to help it. He’d seen, of course. The pity in his eyes had been hard to take. What did he think of her now? She’d wager that the glowing opinion he’d expressed the other day had been amended.

She turned and walked up to the path through the trees. A small part of her wanted to know what he’d been going to say in the kitchenette. Most of her was just plain afraid. She wasn’t sure what scared her the most-that the kiss meant something to him or that it didn’t. How contrary.

As she approached the cottage, a figure rose from one of her verandah chairs. She stopped.

Luke.

Her heart stuttered then raced into an erratic uncomfortable riff. Damn, damn, damn. She longed to turn and run, but that was ridiculous…especially as he’d seen her.

Forcing her feet to move, she squared her shoulders and climbed the steps.

‘I guess you get to see me after all.’ She was proud of the drawl she managed. Her internal tremble was scarcely noticeable. A miracle, considering the way her traitorous heart was still pounding at her larynx.

‘I won’t stay long,’ he said softly, his expression sombre. ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were upset today.’

She shrugged, hoping for nonchalance. ‘You caught me by surprise after…’

‘After yesterday,’ he finished for her. ‘I owe you an apology for the way I treated you at the track.’

An unexpected dart of pain lanced through her chest. That was one question answered. Her first kiss since her husband’s death and the man who’d given it to her was falling over himself to apologise. While he wished it hadn’t happened, she’d been shattered by the terrifying beauty and power of it. She couldn’t let him see how much.

‘Oh, that,’ she managed, praying she didn’t sound as brittle as she felt. ‘Let’s consider it forgotten, shall we?’

‘I’m not apologising for the kiss, Terri.’

She stared at him, trying to make sense of his words.

‘You scared the daylights out of me with the way you were riding that motorbike.’ He held up his hand when she would have spoken. ‘I know. You’re a good rider. Better than good-you’re outstanding.’

‘Thank you,’ she said faintly. ‘I guess.’

‘Don’t thank me. I wasn’t watching you and admiring your technically brilliant performance.’ He smiled thinly. ‘The way you threw that bike into the corners made me angry.’

‘Angry?’

‘I don’t want to lose you.’

She swallowed, looking away uncomfortably.

‘We don’t want to lose you. Allie and me. We’ve lost too much already. You’re her new best friend and confidante. She needs you, I need…I don’t want to see her hurt.’

‘Of course you don’t.’ Her heart melted. He was such a good father. ‘Neither do I.’

‘I know.’ There was a small silence then he smiled at her. A slow delicious smile that curled her toes. Her heart skipped a beat and then tripped over itself trying to catch up. She should excuse herself, send him home now he’d said his piece.

‘Do…do you want to come in for a drink?’ She heard the words leaving her mouth with a sense of astonishment. ‘Er, don’t feel you have to…I just…I’ll understand if you’re busy.’

‘Nothing pressing,’ he said firmly. ‘Thanks, I would like a drink.’

‘Right.’ She stood indecisively for a moment then turned away to open the door. ‘Coffee? Or a cool drink? Maybe a beer.’

‘A beer would be great.’ He followed her inside. Even with her back to him, she felt as though she was aware of every sound and movement he made as he followed her through to the kitchen.

‘I’ve only got light beer.’ She opened the fridge. ‘Stubbie? Or would you prefer it in a glass?’

‘Stubbie will be fine. Thanks.’

She handed him the bottle. His fingers brushed hers and a ripple of sensation ran up her arm. ‘It’s, um, a nice evening, let’s sit on the chairs out the back.’

‘Sure.’ He held the door open and ushered her out.

As she settled into the wicker chair, she suddenly realised how romantic the setting was with the rapidly dimming pink wash of sunset. The golden glow from the kitchen light behind them did nothing to dispel the illusion of cosy intimacy. The glare of a harsh fluorescent tube would have helped-but to get that, she’d have to get up and walk past the source of her angst to the switch.

Luke twisted the top off his bottle as he subsided into the chair beside her.

‘Cheers.’ He leaned forward. There was a small musical clink as he lightly tapped his bottle to hers.

‘Yes, cheers.’ She watched as he lifted the bottle to his mouth, his lips settling on the rim. Looking away hastily, she took a swig from her own bottle. The liquid fizzed in her throat as she searched for something to talk about.

Something other than the thing that suddenly filled her mind.

His mouth, his lips.

His kiss.

Seconds crawled by as she sat in tongue-tied discomfort, her mind utterly stuck on the interlude in the garage. She glanced sideways at him, only to find him watching her intently, his face thoughtful.

She could almost see him gathering words for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Not the kiss. She really didn’t want to discuss that.

‘Terri-’

She had to forestall him. ‘Do you think you’ll ever get back on a motorbike?’

As soon as the words left her lips, she felt ill.

He grimaced. ‘I’m not quite ready for that yet.’

‘Oh, God. Luke.’ Her voice shook with her distress. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.’

‘Don’t worry.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘The thought did cross my mind at the track. That was before I saw you, of course. Then all I could think of was talking some sense into you.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘And look what a good job I did of that.’

She wet her lips. Oh, dear. He was back to the kiss, she knew it. Talking about it meant acknowledging it out loud, holding it up to the light for examination, making it even more compelling. She wanted it to fade away. As it would surely do given enough time and no discussion with the man who’d made her feel so raw and conflicted.

When she didn’t say anything, he said, ‘Refusing to discuss it isn’t going to make it go away, Terri.’

She raised her eyebrow and sent him a sidelong look. ‘How can you be sure?’

He laughed softly. ‘I know some of how you’re feeling. It’s a shock, isn’t it?’

‘A shock. Yes, that’s one way of putting it,’ she said with a sigh of resignation.

‘It’s two and a half years since I lost Sue-Ellen. I loved my wife. You’re the first woman I’ve kissed since my wife died, and you knocked me sideways. I never expected to feel this way again. Ever.’

Terri contemplated the bottle she held loosely in her hand. Luke and Sue-Ellen had obviously had a very happy, loving relationship. Terri was surprised by the shaft of grief she felt. By the time the landmine explosion had killed Peter, she and her husband had had no marriage left to betray. Her stomach cramped at the memory. She was a fraud, letting Luke assume she was in the same predicament as he was.

He was right about one thing, though. Her equilibrium hadn’t been this upset by a kiss since she’d been…

Eighteen, and it had been his kiss then, too. Heat swept through her.

‘What I really want to do is kiss you again,’ he said. ‘Soon. I would do it right now, in a heartbeat, if I thought you would let me. But I’m guessing that’s not going to happen…is it?’

‘No. Oh.’ Her pulse bumped hard. He wanted to kiss her again. ‘You shouldn’t. We mustn’t.’

But it was what she wanted too-regardless of all her good sense telling her otherwise.

‘I figure I’ll give you a bit of time to get used to the idea.’

Her breath caught. ‘G-get used to the idea?’ she managed.

‘Before I do it again.’ His eyes tracked down to her mouth and lingered there for a moment.

‘I’m only human, Terri, and I’m attracted as hell to you. I’ve tried to ignore it but that isn’t working for me.’ He tilted his head, giving her a self-deprecating smile when she remained silent. ‘Am I mistaken in thinking you feel the same way?’

‘We can’t do anything about it. We mustn’t.’

‘Why not?’ He paused. ‘Do you feel like you’d be betraying Peter?’

Coldness gripped her at the sound of Luke speaking her late husband’s name.

‘That’s…’ Her throat closed and she had to force the words out. ‘It’s…not the same.’ She stood and held out her hand. ‘It’s getting late. Have you finished your drink?’

He frowned, staring up at her for a long moment before slowly handing over his empty bottle.

She knew she was handling it clumsily but for the life of her couldn’t think of a smoother way to signal that the evening was over. She walked past him, into the house. Hopefully, he would go now.

Bottles in hand, she walked to the sink and stopped.

‘Not the same…how?’ Luke’s voice was soft, persuasive.

She turned slowly to see him standing across the room, just inside the door. His expression was tender with sympathy she didn’t deserve.

How? Such a simple little question. But the answer had the power to rip her apart. Could she bear to see disgust in his eyes once he knew?

She was a foolish woman who’d stayed too long in a danger zone.

A sad, tragic creature who’d been too slow to accept her husband didn’t want her or the baby she carried.

Her folly had cost her everything. Her marriage, her husband.

And the biggest price of all, her baby.

Perhaps Luke had been right that evening in her lounge. Perhaps he did need to know the worst about her. As a colleague, as her boss, as a friend. Maybe most of all as the doctor to whom he’d entrusted his daughter’s well-being.

‘My marriage wasn’t like yours, Luke. We had…problems.’ How laughably feeble and mild that sounded.

Solemn blue eyes examined her face calmly. ‘Tell me. Whatever it is. I won’t think less of you.’

Her throat closed on the urge to be sick. She knew better. Her hands tightened on hard smoothness and she looked down, surprised to see she still held the bottles.

‘Peter was taking me to the airport when the explosion happened.’ Her larynx felt raw and tender. ‘I wanted to come home. He d-died because I wanted to come home.’

‘Oh, Terri.’

In two strides, he was there in front of her. She watched numbly as he removed the bottle from one hand then the other. With her hands empty, he gathered her into his arms. His body heat was startling.

‘You can’t think that way,’ he said. ‘You’ll destroy yourself.’

She wound her hands around his waist. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear the steady beat of his heart. After a long silence, she said, ‘We were arguing when the car hit a l-landmine.’

‘Poor sweetheart,’ he murmured. ‘And you feel bad because of that.’

She didn’t deserve his understanding. She had to make him see, push out the ugly facts until he turned from her as he should. ‘If he’d been p-paying more attention, he might have seen something to warn him, a flaw in the road surface. Or something.’

‘Hush.’ Luke hugged her tighter. ‘You know it’s pointless to think like that. He probably wouldn’t have seen anything. That’s why mines are such bloody awful weapons. You know that.’

His body curved over hers, holding her as though she was precious, reminding her of the way he’d been so protective with Allie. With his strong nurturing instinct, he was so unlike Peter.

Peter had loved mankind. He hadn’t had time to cater to the needs of a wife. His need to serve had been noble and laudable but so very hard to live with. She’d felt petty and selfish asking for more for herself. For needing more.

Being enveloped in Luke’s caring was glorious.

And it was torture.

She wasn’t entitled to his good opinion. He still didn’t know everything.

She swallowed and gathered the courage to let go the next piece of poison. ‘I was leaving him, Luke. My marriage was over. I c-couldn’t be the person he needed me to be. I failed him. I f-failed…I failed.’ The words to make him understand the rest choked in her throat.

‘No, you didn’t. Marriages don’t always work, sweetheart. It’s sad but it’s life.’

He thought she’d finished but she hadn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the worst. She’d failed again. She was a coward.

His warm hand cupped her neck, the fingers stroking her sensitive skin gently. She stood passively in his arms, her attention on each delicate movement, storing the sensory memories for the future.

‘What’s so bloody unfair for you is the way you lost Peter and the timing. But it’s not your fault, Terri.’

‘Don’t.’ She squeezed her eyes shut as a hot lump in her throat threatened.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Just don’t.’ She turned her head, pressed her hot face into the cool skin of his neck, feeling the steady bump of his carotid pulse against her forehead.

He shifted and her awareness of the hard body clasping hers changed abruptly. Her pulse sped up.

She should pull back…started to move. His head bent slightly and his breath whispered across her cheek. If she tipped her head a little and reached up, she’d be able to press her mouth to his.

It wouldn’t be right to take more than the comfort he’d given so generously, especially when she had so little to offer in return.

But suddenly she didn’t care. She wanted something for herself. A kiss, his kiss. Whatever he was prepared to give her in this moment. She wanted to feel desirable again, to remind herself how that felt.

She tilted her chin, but still he didn’t move. Another millimetre nearer and still he waited with infinite patience. Each beat of her pulse pushed her a little closer.

And then the perfect, heart-stopping moment when her lips touched his.

Just the gentlest caress, the barest pressure. Exquisite. His mouth moved on hers, rubbing, nibbling, until the nerve endings in the sensitive skin were alive.

A gift to herself. The beauty of it held her enthralled. She whimpered when he pulled back. Not enough. More. She wanted more.

His hand lifted to tidy a strand of her hair. She suppressed a gasp as he tucked it behind her ear. As his fingers touched the rim, she could feel the tremor in them. Her heart squeezed painfully.

His hand dropped back to her shoulder and after a moment he said, ‘I should go.’

‘Should you?’

‘Oh, God. Terri.’ With his forehead resting on hers, he rubbed his hands slowly up and down her arms. ‘This is too important for us to rush. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret.’

‘I won’t. I wouldn’t be.’

He pulled back and looked down at her. His throat moved in audible swallow and then he smiled. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ he said with mock severity. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing here.’

‘I know.’ If she pushed him now, he would give her what she wanted-sweet relief from the thoughts in her head. He was as vulnerable to the chemistry between them as she was. But she couldn’t do it, he deserved more.

‘We need to talk some more before we go any further.’

‘Luke…’ She suppressed a sigh. ‘You can’t solve everything by talking about it.’

He cocked his head, his smile teasing. ‘Is this the same woman who solved my problems with my daughter by getting us talking?’

‘That was different.’

‘In some ways. We do have to talk and we will, but not now.’ He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped away from her. ‘Sleep well, darling.’

‘Yes,’ she said, knowing she wouldn’t. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ He reached out again and stroked his fingers down her cheek as if he couldn’t resist touching one more time. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Sure. Tomorrow.’ Terri watched him go, knowing it was for the best. Much as she ached for his embrace, he was right. She should be grateful he’d decided to leave before she did something they’d both be sorry for.

She wondered what he’d have done if she’d begged him to take her to bed. If she’d begged him to help her forget for a whole night. Not just the precious minutes when his kindness, his touch, his kiss had given her respite from her pain.

She’d wanted to be selfish. To beg, cajole, humiliate herself, until he gave her more. Until he gave her everything.

Her marriage had been far from a meeting of soul-mates. Friendship with Luke was richer and more fulfilling than all the sacred vows she’d taken with Peter. Too valuable to risk on the fleeting satisfaction of something more physical.

Besides…Luke was her boss, her colleague. And most importantly, Luke was a father with a daughter who needed him very much right now.

Terri took a deep breath and faced the truth. The last thing Luke needed was someone as broken as she was, clinging and demanding his time and attention.

Luke jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and took a deep lungful of air. The sweet smell of freshly mown grass mingled with the damp of the evening, helping to soothe his frazzled nerves. Leaving Terri was torment. But if he was to have any integrity at all, he had to.

He blew out a long breath.

She’d opened up to him, told him things that made his gut ache with the agony of them. He’d held her slender frame, felt the silent bottled-up grief in her trembling body, and he’d wanted to weep for her. Regardless of the state of her marriage, having Peter ripped from her life like that was a tragedy almost beyond comprehension.

Any hopes, any dreams, any chance of reconciliation had been lost in an instant. Cruel, senseless, irrevocable.

He was almost sure there was more. But why hadn’t she told him? She was a very private person. Perhaps telling him as much as she had was all she could handle to start with. He could respect that and when she was ready to tell him more, he’d be there for her.

They’d made a start and he’d been content with that…

Until she’d instigated the kiss.

Then his altruism had evaporated and he’d wanted everything a red-blooded man wanted from a beautiful woman.

He’d wanted to break all his self-imposed rules.

He wasn’t proud of himself. Knowing that, given the tiniest bit more encouragement, he’d have taken shameful advantage of a grief-stricken widow.

He’d nearly been unmanned when she’d looked up at him with her big brown eyes. She’d seen worse things than he could imagine. He’d wanted to take away her pain and heartbreak. To hold her, kiss her, touch her.

But he knew it wasn’t that simple and, rather than risk the small progress they’d made, he’d chosen caution. It had taken all his strength to let her go, do the honourable thing. He didn’t want her to do anything she’d regret. Their relationship was new, complex and far too fragile for a quick tumble into bed.

Why, then, did he have the nagging feeling that he’d let her down tonight?

His restraint hadn’t been what she’d wanted, but he knew it was what she needed. Could she have read his retreat as rejection?

His footsteps slowed. He could go back, explain he wanted her more than life itself. Explain he wanted them to get it right, that it was too important for a quick grab at gratification.

Undecided, he stood looking at the cottage then with a small sigh he reluctantly turned for home. Going back now wouldn’t be a good idea.

He’d make sure they talk again soon.

He’d make sure she understood how much he wanted her.