Читать книгу Seduction In Sydney - Fiona McArthur - Страница 15

THIS time when she woke she knew her survival depended on not seeing this man again. But she had the horrible feeling it was too late.

And this time it was Marco who was leaving. He turned when she stirred. Strode back to the bed fully dressed. Kissed her one last time, thoroughly, and stroked her face. ‘I must go. Ciao, bella.’ And left.

‘Ciao. Bye.’ She didn’t ask why he had to go. She had an idea. This connection, rapport, infatuation, whatever they were going to call it, had been more than either of them had expected. And he was leaving at the end of the month. Not the most sensible thing to continue.

She rose, wandered into the shower, dressed again and tidied the wreckage of her bedroom. She had to smile. With a slightly embarrassed smugness. He’d said he was good. Judging by his response, she was a fast learner.

Marco had had to get out. He’d been a fool. Did he think that reciting the reasons he was a loner would be good enough to insulate him from falling for Emily? He was no long-term prospect for any woman, let alone one as special as this woman, and his gut had told him that from the first day.

He needed to leave. Move on. Needed to keep presenting his best side to the world and avoid the chance others would find out that he was irrevocably tainted by his dubious background and should never be trusted. He didn’t trust himself.

Look what he had done to Emily.

He had seen the light in her eyes when she’d looked at him. No doubt that same light had shone from his own stupid face. Bastardo. He was as bad as her daughter’s father. But he had been unable to back away when he should have. Had been seduced when he was the one who normally did the seducing. She was incredible.

He parked his car in the garage and took the stairs to his unit, changed quickly, and left again. He needed exercise. He needed to drive himself to exhaustion. He needed to run until he dropped. Run until his legs ached and his head drooped. Run until he could forget that he was tempted to risk all and even think about a life that existed in one city with one woman.

Emily had to get out of the house. She stared at herself in the hall mirror. Her eyes shone, her face gently glowed and a small smile tilted her mouth even when she tried to look serious. ‘I’m falling in love and I can’t. He’s transient,’ she told the mirror. ‘He’s going to leave me, like Annie’s father left me. Though, to be fair, Marco had always said he wasn’t planning on staying.’

She sighed. ‘What is it about me that men don’t want to stay around?’

Maybe Annie would welcome her for a short time. She winced at this morning’s hurt at her daughter’s dismissal. Well, she was always there for Annie and right at this moment her mother needed her.

She glanced at the grandmother clock on the wall. It was almost the end of visiting hours. She could take an ice cream, sit with her daughter for the last fifteen minutes. Then maybe she would be able to come home and settle for an early night. She started her week of night duty again tomorrow night so it was important she feel refreshed before the new week began.

Refreshed? She felt like she’d been plugged into a power source. ‘If that’s what sex does for you, my battery must have been low for years,’ she muttered to herself as she locked the door behind her.

When Emily walked into Annie’s room in the hospital a little later, at first glance she thought she’d taken the wrong doorway. The woman on the bed was wrapped in the arms of a dark-haired tattooed boy and their absorption in each other forcibly reminded her of what she’d been doing earlier in the day.

‘Ahem …’ She cleared her throat, and the couple on the bed jumped apart. No mistake on the room number, then.

‘Mum!’

‘Annie.’ She waited.

‘Um. This is Rodney.’ Annie looked at the young man and lifted her chin. ‘My baby’s father.’

Tattoos. Undernourished. Torn jeans. Emily tried not to cry. ‘Hello, Rodney. Nice to meet you.’ She paused. ‘At last.’ Very dry.

Rodney stood up awkwardly. Wiped his palms on his jeans and held out his hand.

Emily forced a smile and shook. ‘So is this an unexpected reunion or the reason I wasn’t supposed to visit today?’

‘Um. Hello, Mrs … Miss …’ He glanced agonisingly at Annie, and then struggled on manfully, ‘Emily. I’m sorry we haven’t met before.’ He sent one last agonising look at Annie. ‘I—I have to go.’ And hurried from the room.

Marco stepped out of the lift as a young man, his face painfully red from embarrassment, hurried past. Christo. He remembered that feeling. Unworthy. Scorned by someone he wanted to impress. Too many times this had happened to him at his age. He wanted to take the boy aside and tell him he must love himself before others could love him. But for all his efforts he had never learned that lesson. He shook his head and walked on to the nurses’ station, the memories circling like bats around his head. Work. He needed work.

In Annie’s room the young girl sat higher in the bed. ‘Look what you did.’ She adjusted her pyjamas and glared at her mother.

Good grief, times had changed, Emily thought. Imagine if she’d said that to her mother. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand? What I did?’

Annie crossed her arms over her chest. ‘You made him leave.’

‘Not guilty.’ Emily held up her hands. ‘I did no such thing. Not my fault Rodney didn’t want to stay while I was here.’

Annie fumed. ‘You shouldn’t have been here. I asked you not to come.’

Emily took a step closer to the bed. The idea of a cosy chat with her daughter, a mutual salve for unstable times, lay in tatters around her feet. ‘You said friends. When were you going tell me you were seeing your baby’s father again? You went behind my back. Sneakily. Annie? Where has all this come from?’

Annie glanced away. ‘I knew you’d judge him just because he doesn’t come from a good family.’

Emily shook her head. ‘That’s unfair. Since when have I ever—’ she stressed the ‘ever’ ‘—tried to influence your choice of friends?’

‘I know what you’re thinking, Mum!’ Annie’s voice rose.

Marco paused outside the room. Unwilling to interrupt when he was obviously not wanted but unable to avoid the conversation.

‘I know how you looked at Rodney. As if he’s not good enough for me.’

Emily’s voice. Quieter. Calm. ‘That’s unfair.’

‘He’s tainted by a family that doesn’t live in the best part of Sydney. Doesn’t work all day.’ A bitter pause then a little softer and Marco tried not to strain his ears. ‘Or all night, like you.’ Ouch.

Annie went on, ‘I know it’s going to be because his brother’s done time.’ Marco straightened as if stung.

‘Jail?’ The horror in Emily’s voice said it all. Did it all. Sealed it all. Marco sighed. Pictured that boy’s face. Empathised. Felt the whoosh of time, of scornful villagers, of police questioning. He winced and walked away. And to think he had considered telling Emily about his past. About his reasons for choosing not to settle. Why? Did he hope she would not care? Fool.

He knew exactly what she was thinking. Of course. And he didn’t blame her. Marco kept walking. Each step to the lift more final with his decision. He would stay away. Not seek out Emily. He had done enough damage. He would just do his work and then leave.

He pressed the lift button. Stepped inside, saw little, had trouble deciding on the floor he wanted and totally oblivious to the other occupant.

‘What are you doing here today?’ A gruff masculine voice.

He looked up. Hard blue eyes scrutinised him. Finn Kennedy. He was rubbing his shoulder.

‘Just checking on my patients. You?’ Ball back in Finn’s court because his mind wasn’t working real well at the moment. He’d been delusional to think he could just have fun with Emily.

‘Same.’ Finn nodded. ‘Want a drink?’

Emily was trying to make sense of it all. Of this woman who was and yet wasn’t her daughter. ‘What do you mean done time? Rodney?’

‘See. I knew it. It’s not Rodney’s fault his brother made mistakes. Rodney’s had a difficult life but he is still a good man.’

‘Annie.’ She sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I don’t care what Rodney’s family have done. What Rodney’s background is. It’s what he himself is doing with his life now and that he makes you happy that I care about. That he loves you and your baby. Treats you both right. Every woman and every child deserves that.’

Annie’s lip quivered. ‘I thought you’d look down on him because of his brother’s past; you think I’d be tied for ever to a family of trouble.’

‘Why? How could I do that?’ She shook her head. ‘Your father was from a very well-to-do family. An upstanding future citizen. Once a year his parents send money, sure—but he dropped me, and you, like a hot potato.’

She patted Annie’s hand. ‘Your father never visited me in hospital like Rodney has visited you. Why would you think I’d look down on that?’ Her voice firmed. ‘But if Rodney ever treated you badly then he’d have me after him.’

Annie shrugged. ‘If he treated me badly, I wouldn’t be there.’

‘That’s my girl.’

They looked at each other and then Annie held out her arms for a hug. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I should have told you.’

Emily hugged her and Annie squeezed back. ‘Is this why we’ve been fighting the last few months?’

Annie nodded. ‘I hated having a secret and I should have known you’d understand.’

Emily swallowed the thickness in her throat. Maybe she’d have her normal daughter back now. She glanced down at the plastic bag on the table. ‘Now I have two melted ice creams we were going to share because I got lonely and needed my baby’s company.’

She pulled out a droopy ice cream and gave it to Annie. Annie looked at it, took it gingerly and stripped it of its wrapper. She grinned. It didn’t quite fall off the stick. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s fine.’ Emily pulled hers out and it looked worse. They both giggled.

Emily pulled the towel off the end of the bed and spread it between them as a safety net for dripping ice cream. ‘I guess I have to realise you won’t be there for ever. You have your own life. But when you’re ready I need you to tell me about Rodney and what your plans are.’

‘There’s not much to tell. I love him.’

Emily’s brows went up. ‘Really. Where did you meet him? How long have you known him? Though I’m guessing more than twenty-six weeks?’

‘Mum!’

Emily raised her brows and glanced at Annie’s belly. ‘Well?’

‘I met him in a chat room. Just after Gran died. And before you go, “Oh, Annie”, it’s okay. We’d been chatting for about three months before I met him, and we can talk all night. He understands me, likes the same things—music, books, movies. We laugh. A lot. And when I met him …’ Annie rolled her eyes ‘… it was just right.’

‘Okay. I can understand that.’ Boy, could she understand that. ‘But did you mean to have a baby with Rodney? I mean, how old is he?’

‘Eighteen. And no. We only did it once. And we weren’t going to do it again until I went on the Pill. But when I finally went to the doctor he told me I was pregnant.’

Oh, my poor baby. ‘We must be very fertile women.’ That thought came with a shudder of relief that she’d started the Pill after Annie’s birth and never missed it. So she could banish the horrible vision of the two of them eating ice creams with pregnant bellies. And Marco had been careful too.

Emily accepted how it had happened. ‘Though for the record, if you like a boy enough to want to have sex, it would be good to let me into the secret so I could at least meet him. When all this is over, we’re going to discuss contraception again.’

Annie blushed. ‘It’s a bit late now.’

‘Not for the next one it’s not.’ And if she could cover herself for the last sixteen years and not use it, her daughter would be doubly covered. ‘And condoms.’

‘Mu-u-um.’ Annie rolled her eyes again.

She grinned. ‘Sorry. Having a belated stress attack. This has all happened pretty fast, you know.’

Annie’s fingers crept across and squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘I know. And I’m sorry. I’ve been crabby because I was hiding Rodney and it felt rotten to be sneaky.’

‘You didn’t need to do that. You can always tell me anything. I may not like it but I’ll always love you.’

Annie sighed. ‘Rodney wanted to. He wanted to drive around to home and be with me when I told you. But I didn’t want you to meet him for the first time then.’

Emily felt her heart squeeze. Wished for a different scenario, but it was all too late now. ‘You’ll have to grow up too fast. But we’ll talk more about that later.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Visiting hours are over. I’d better go.’

Annie reached out her hand. ‘Mum?’

Emily stopped. ‘Yes?’ She caught her daughter’s hand and held it.

‘Can we put your birthday decorations up when I come home?’

Emily squeezed Annie’s hand. ‘Sure. I’d like that.’

Annie hung on for another second. ‘And thanks for the ice cream.’

‘Thanks for the conversation.’ Their hands dropped apart. ‘I’ve missed having them with you.’

They hugged again because they were both a little teary as they waved goodbye.

Marco hunched over his beer at Pete’s Bar, a watering place across the road from the hospital where most of the staff drifted if they didn’t want to be alone—or wanted to be alone in a section Pete called Off Limits.

The aroma of beef pie permeated the walls and Pete himself remembered every name he was told. He had twenty years of hospital names stored in his head.

Finn ordered the pie. ‘You should try it. To die for.’

Marco looked at it consideringly. ‘I have eaten but maybe I could manage one. I think I ran that off.’ And some other exercise, he reminded himself sardonically.

‘Evie says you’re seeing Emily Cooper.’

His appetite disappeared. So she had told her in the lift. And he’d apologised. Before he could say anything, Finn went on. ‘Good woman. Good midwife in an emergency too. Not the kind I would have thought up for a fling.’

‘We went out once.’ And slept together twice.

Finn looked at him under his brows. Must have seen something in his face. ‘Emily hasn’t said anything. Evie said she was in the lift with you two and could’ve cut the air with a knife.’

He’d got it wrong, again. Suspicion would kill him one day. ‘Very observant of her. I think I will have the pie.’ He stood up and walked over to the bar to order.

Man after his own heart. ‘Use your staff card. It’s half price,’ Finn called out, suddenly in a good humour because he’d found some other poor bastard who didn’t understand women either.

There was a lot of Marco D’Arvello that reminded Finn of Isaac. His brother had had that same kindness and warm exterior, and Finn wondered if Marco hid a similar feeling of homelessness. Thankfully Isaac had found happiness for the time he’d had with his wife, Lydia, something Finn had never allowed himself to find. The closest he’d come had been when he and Lydia had comforted each other after Isaac’s death. Lydia had been smart enough to know there was no future with Finn.

But now there was Evie. The reason he’d decided to come across here and think. That and the pain that was eating him alive.

Headstrong, defiant, warm-hearted Evie who for some incomprehensible reason said she loved him and he couldn’t quite believe it.

That was the problem. He didn’t want to risk becoming a quadriplegic—or worse—if she was going to hang her future on him. But there was the chance this surgery could remove the shrapnel and give him back full control of his hands.

Did he owe it to Evie to try? Or owe it to Evie to be half a man instead of just a shell? If he chose the surgery he’d just have to make a back-up plan to get away if it all went wrong.

‘You okay? You look worried. What’s up?’ Marco was back and he could see Finn was in pain. He set the pie down.

‘Nothing.’ Subject change. ‘So you’re leaving in a couple of weeks?’

‘Is it that close?’ Marco shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. You want to roster me on?’ He tried not to think of Emily. Of her character-filled house. Her family. He didn’t do families.

Of course Finn jumped at the offer. ‘The O and G guys would be thrilled. It’s always a pain getting cover.’

‘Fine.’ So this was penance. He could have left Sydney in fourteen days. ‘But I wish to be gone by the twentieth.’

‘Planning something special?’

He said the first thing that appeared in his mind. ‘Times Square.’ He’d be in New York for the new contract but it was unlikely he’d be out partying.

‘So, you going out with Emily again?’ Finn’s curiosity surprised him. Marco had never known him to be interested in someone else’s social life. Perhaps his friend was becoming more human.

‘I doubt it. She has a lot on her mind with her daughter.’

‘It’s a big responsibility. She does seem fairly consumed by her. I wouldn’t like to have a teenage daughter. Especially a pregnant one.’

‘Emily is a good mother.’

‘No doubt about that but she wouldn’t know squat about teenage boys and that’s how their life is going to change.’

Marco thought about that. Thought about the young man he’d seen. Emily’s natural reservations. About who was going to help her? And maybe the boy?