Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Seduced: The Accidental Romeo - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 14

HARRY REACHED FOR his jacket. It was ten to five and he was in no mood for another dose of salt to be rubbed into a very raw wound, and anyway he had to get to his parents to pick up the twins and inspect them for chickenpox.

Fun!

‘Are you heading off?’ Dr Vermont said, and Harry nodded.

‘You’re not in tomorrow?’ Dr Vermont checked.

‘I can’t leave them with my parents for too long,’ Harry said, and Dr Vermont nodded. He knew Harry’s father’s health wasn’t brilliant and the twins were hard work at the best of times. By the time Harry had signed off on some paperwork, Marnie had gathered her bag and was walking briskly through the department, jangling her car keys.

‘You’re in a rush, Marnie,’ Dr Vermont commented, because Marnie never usually left till well past six. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I’ll be back,’ Marnie said. ‘My brother just called and he’s cut himself—his finger. I’m just going home to fetch him and bring him in.’

‘I’ll stay around to see him,’ Dr Vermont said, and Marnie gave a grateful smile, though, in truth, it was a bit of a forced one because she desperately wanted Harry to offer to stay back. He was, as she was starting to find out, not just considered the best hand surgeon in the hospital but one of the top in the country.

Harry made no offer; instead, he joined her as she headed out.

She walked to the car park with him. Their footsteps were rapid and the atmosphere between them was tense but it was Harry who broke the strained silence. ‘Do you think it’s serious?’

‘It’s deep. I told him to make dinner and he couldn’t find my tin-opener so he decided to use a knife…’ She was waffling, stupidly feeling guilty for insisting that Ronan cook, but she was evading the real answer, not because she didn’t want to tell Harry, more because she didn’t want to think what it might mean to Ronan. ‘He says it’s bad.’ Harry could hear the slight panic in her voice as she elaborated, ‘I’m worried he might have cut a tendon.’

‘You haven’t even seen it yet.’ Harry was practical.

‘He plays the piano.’ Marnie glanced at Harry. ‘I mean—he plays it really well.’ She closed her eyes for a second. If Ronan had indeed injured his tendon it was going to be a tough few months ahead for him, with no guarantee his hand would return to full dexterity.

‘If he has injured his tendon, Dr Vermont will refer him to Stuart. He’s on tonight and he’s a great surgeon.’

She wanted Harry.

They were now at her car and, given how inflexible Marnie had been with his children, she was in absolutely no position to ask him a favour, except it was Ronan. For that reason, and that reason only, Marnie swallowed her pride and went to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Harry watched as she ran one of those very beautiful hands through her dark hair as again she tried to swallow her pride.

For Ronan, Marnie told herself.

‘If it needs doing, is there any chance of you repairing it tomorrow?’ There were two spots of colour appearing on her pale cheeks. ‘If Dr Vermont orders it to be elevated tonight, you could—’

‘I’m not coming in tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I thought you were on.’

‘No.’

When Harry didn’t elaborate, Marnie just nodded and got into her car. She loathed that she’d asked him but, more than that, she loathed that he’d said no.

When she got home, Marnie let herself in and Ronan called out to her. ‘I’m in here.’

He was sitting on the floor of Marnie’s bathroom with his hand wrapped in a towel and he was holding it up.

‘You don’t have a bath to sit on,’ was the first thing he said, and Marnie managed a smile as, first things first, she washed her hands.

‘It was the first thing I noticed about the place too.’ Marnie knelt down beside him and gently pulled down his arm.

‘Sorry about the towel.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Marnie said.

‘I made a mess in the kitchen.’

‘Ronan, stop.’ She unwrapped the towel and Marnie, who was very used to looking at injured fingers, surprised herself by feeling a bit sick when she examined Ronan’s cut. Marnie blew out a breath as she saw the white of Ronan’s partially severed tendon as he attempted to move his finger.

‘Don’t try to do anything for now,’ Marnie said. ‘I’ll put a dressing on it and we’ll get you to the hospital.’

She went to the kitchen and it was a bit of a mess with Ronan’s blood, as he’d said. She reached for a glass and took two long drinks of water then refilled the glass.

It was ridiculous really, Marnie thought. There wasn’t a single thing at work that made her feel faint but as soon as it was family, it was a different matter entirely.

She stood, remembering the nurses insisting she wait outside as they stuck another needle in Declan…

Not now!

Marnie tipped the water down the sink, got out her first-aid box and headed back to Ronan. She sorted out the wound, wrapping the injured finger in a saline dressing and bandaging it, then applying a sling, before she got him into the car and headed to the hospital.

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’ Ronan asked, as Marnie concentrated on driving.

‘I think you’ve done your tendon,’ she admitted.

‘That can be fixed, though, can’t it?’

‘Of course it can.’ She glanced over and smiled but said nothing more just yet. Ronan’s tendon could certainly be fixed but it would take a lot of time and patience to get back the function that Ronan had had.

She wished that Harry was on tonight.

The department was quiet and Marnie took Ronan straight through and into a cubicle, where she told him to lie down.

‘I don’t need to lie down,’ he said, then changed his mind. He was tall and geeky and didn’t try to hide it, and Marnie loved him for it. ‘I do feel a bit sick.’

‘I know,’ Marnie said, because the phrase ‘as white as a sheet’ could have been coined just for Ronan—Marnie was quite sure that had he not lain down when he had he would have passed out.

‘Can a have a glass of water?’

‘Nothing.’ Marnie shook Her head. ‘You can’t have anything till a doctor’s seen it. Just wait there and I’ll go and get you registered and then…’ Her voice trailed off as the curtain opened and Harry walked in.

‘Harry!’ Marnie couldn’t quite believe that he was here—especially since she’d seen him drive off.

Harry couldn’t quite believe it either. He’d got five minutes down the road, feeling as guilty as hell for saying no to Marnie’s brother, when his phone had rung with the news from his mother that Adam was coming out in spots.

Harry had pulled over and sat with his head in his hands, listening to the sound of the traffic whizzing past.

Of course, if Adam had them, then Charlotte would get them soon.

Something had to give and at that moment it did.

Adam was fine when Harry rang back—he was the centre of attention for once when usually it was Charlotte.

‘He’s tired, though,’ his mum explained. ‘I was just going to put him to bed. Why don’t you stay here tonight? It would be a shame to wake him.’

Harry hesitated. He had been about to say yes, but at the last moment he asked his aging parents for yet another favour.

For the last time.

Sure, he’d need them in the future, Harry didn’t doubt that, but the madness had to stop and so he had ended it.

‘Marnie.’ He gave her a tight smile and then aimed a much nicer one at Ronan. ‘So, I hear that you’ve cut your finger, cooking.’ Harry helped Ronan out of the sling and when he saw the neat dressing he made a wry joke about Ronan’s big sister having a fully equipped first-aid box.

‘Yeah, well, she might have a well-equipped first-aid box but she doesn’t have a tin-opener,’ Ronan said, as Harry washed his hands and put on some gloves while Marnie removed the dressing.

‘I do have tin-opener,’ Marnie scolded. ‘Just because Mum keeps hers in the second drawer, you didn’t think to look in the third.’

Harry grinned to himself at the good-natured banter between brother and sister and then he came over and carefully examined the wound as well as testing for sensation in Adam’s finger. ‘You’re a pianist, Marnie tells me?’

‘I’m a computer programmer,’ Ronan said.

‘Well, you’d need your fingers working for that…’ Harry opened a needle and checked Ronan’s sensation more thoroughly as Marnie stood wondering if Harry was thinking he’d been brought in under false pretences.

‘He’s a very good pianist,’ Marnie said. ‘I didn’t mean to make it sound like he was a maestro.’

‘You didn’t,’ Harry said. He looked at Ronan. ‘I’m sure you’ve realised that this injury is more than just a straightforward cut that can simply be stitched.’

‘I pretty much knew straight away,’ Ronan said. ‘Will I still be able to play?’ he asked, and Marnie found she was holding her breath as Harry dealt with the issue that she hadn’t been able to talk about during the journey to the hospital. ‘I mean, will I still be able to play at the level I was?’

‘First I have to do my part,’ Harry said, ‘then the rest is going to be up to you.’ Harry was honest. ‘You’ll be in a splint afterwards and looking at a lot of hand therapy. It’s early days yet. For now we have to repair it and then see where we’re at.’

‘Harry’s an amazing hand surgeon,’ Marnie said. ‘You couldn’t be in better hands.’

‘Excuse the pun,’ Harry said, and Ronan gave a pale smile, then Harry went through more of what Ronan could expect. He was very calming—even as he discussed the extensive rehabilitation ahead. ‘Right, we’ll get you around to our minor theatre. The tendon’s still partially intact so I’ll be able to do it under a block, but first I need to go and get something to eat as it might take a while.’

‘Can I have a drink?’ Ronan asked.

‘Sorry,’ Harry said with a brief smile. ‘That was cruel of me. No, you can’t have anything in case you do end up needing a general anaesthetic.’

‘You’re doing him tonight?’ Marnie checked.

‘I told you I was!’ There was a slight edge of irritation to Harry’s voice when he addressed Marnie, which he quickly fought to check. ‘I’m not available tomorrow and the sooner that it’s repaired the better.’

‘I can assist.’

Harry rolled his eyes. ‘Have you looked in the mirror?’ Marnie hadn’t. ‘Even your lips are white. I’ll ask Kelly.’

Kelly came in and introduced herself to Ronan and Marnie excused herself as Kelly said she was going to get him into a gown and prepared for Theatre.

‘I’ll be waiting in my office,’ Marnie said, but of course it didn’t end there because Kelly was asking about Ronan’s next of kin. ‘I should ring Mum and tell her.’

‘Not tonight.’ Ronan shook his head. ‘Please, Marnie, can that wait till tomorrow?’

Marnie was only too pleased to agree.

She gave Ronan a brief cuddle and then headed to the kitchen for another glass of water, where she found Harry feeding bread into the toaster.

‘Thank you for coming back to do this.’

‘It’s fine,’ Harry said.

‘What about the children?’

‘Charlotte and Adam are staying the night at my parents’. I’m going to get them tomorrow.’

‘I feel awful…’

‘Well, don’t. You were right not to want Adam hanging around the department—he has got chickenpox.’

‘Oh, no,’ Marnie said. ‘I feel terrible that he doesn’t have you tonight.’

The toast popped up and Harry started buttering it but he did turn and speak at the same time. ‘Marnie, it’s my job—it’s what I do. It’s what I’ve been trying to do since Jill died. I can’t count the times I called Jill and said someone had come in and that I needed to be here…’

‘It’s appreciated.’

‘Good. I am the best hand surgeon in this hospital. I’d want me for this.’

‘I’d want you to,’ Marnie said, and from nowhere, absolutely from nowhere, a blush spread over her cheeks and, given how pale she had been, there was no chance of hiding it. ‘I meant—’

‘It’s fine.

The strangest thing was, as the colour soared up her cheeks, Harry, who never blushed, thought that he might be as well.

Or was it just terribly warm?

‘The thing is—’ Marnie started, but Harry interrupted.

‘Right, now I would just like ten minutes’ peace before I go and do surgery,’ Harry said, and, taking his toasted sandwich, he stalked off to his office rather than the staffroom, but there was no peace to be had there either.

There was an inbox that was so full it spilled over the edges and he daren’t check his emails because he’d need a week to get them clear.

Harry ate his sandwich then changed into scrubs and headed into the minor theatre where Ronan lay, chatting with Kelly, who was setting up for the operation.

‘I was just telling Ronan that he’s got his sister’s hands.’ Kelly smiled.

‘I don’t remember Marnie’s being quite so hairy,’ Harry said, as he put in the nerve block that would ensure Ronan couldn’t feel anything during surgery. ‘Your accent isn’t as strong as Marnie’s. Though I guess you were much younger when you came to Melbourne.’

‘We came to Perth first,’ Ronan told him, and it wasn’t, Harry noted, just Ronan’s hands that were similar to Marnie’s—he could talk for Ireland too. ‘But Dad got transferred to Melbourne a couple of years later. I don’t really remember Perth. I think I remember more about Ireland, though I’m not sure if it’s from going back or Mum talking about it. I’ve been back twice now, though Marnie goes back far more often. She misses it like crazy.’

Harry looked up. ‘Didn’t she want to emigrate?’

‘No,’ Roman said. ‘Though she didn’t want to leave Perth either. She always said the moment she turned eighteen and she had her own passport she’d be straight back to Ireland, but she got into nursing…’ Ronan didn’t continue.

He didn’t have to.

Harry pretty much knew what had happened from there. As he waited for the block to take effect, he spent a moment thinking about Marnie.

Harry’s heart seemed to constrict for a moment.

No wonder she was so tough, she’d had to learn how to be.

He checked each finger in turn, making sure that the anaesthetic had taken full effect before starting.

It was a very intricate operation, which required Harry to wear magnifying glasses and to focus extremely hard, but every now and then Kelly would take his glasses off and he would sit up straight for a moment and take a very brief break. Sometimes he found himself listening to Ronan and Kelly talking, mostly about music and computers, but now and then the conversation drifted to Marnie.

‘I fight all the time with my sister,’ Kelly was saying.

‘It’s not worth fighting with Marnie,’ Ronan said. ‘It’s her way or the highway.’

Ten years older than Ronan, Marnie had, it would seem, been a second mum more than a sister to him.

Funny that he found out more about Marnie during a sixty-minute operation than he had in all the time he’d worked alongside her.

‘You’re done,’ Harry said, finishing off the splint. ‘For tonight you’ll stay in and we’ll keep it elevated. You’ll be given analgesics as it’s going to be painful as sensation starts to return and I want to start you on antibiotics. The last thing we want is an infection.’

‘Harry will come in and see you tomorrow,’ Kelly said, ‘and then you’ll probably be discharged home.’

‘Actually, I’m off tomorrow,’ Harry said. ‘It will be Dr Vermont and then there will be follow-ups in the hand clinic and a referral to the hand therapist.’ He really couldn’t tell Kelly and Ronan his news before he’d told Dr Vermont.

And Marnie too.

‘Take care,’ Harry settled for instead.

He had a drink before heading into Marnie’s office, and when he got there she was sitting with her head in her hands, just as he had in the car earlier, as if bracing herself for the news that her brother had died!

‘It’s a tendon!’ Harry said.

‘I know.’ Marnie looked up and there was a grimace on her face as she tried to force a smile. ‘I just came off the phone to my mother—you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how difficult that conversation was. She actually rang me and I caved and told her about Ronan’s accident.’

‘Oh.’ Harry was surprised. He’d got the impression they barely spoke. ‘I thought you didn’t…’ Harry halted. It was none of his business.

‘We may not talk about certain things,’ Marnie said, ‘but, as difficult as they can be, I love my parents very much.’ Marnie lifted her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Ronan’s accident is all my fault.’

‘Of course it is,’ Harry said calmly.

‘If she woke up tomorrow and the sky was purple, she’d be on the phone, blaming me.’

‘Well, if you’d just kept the tin-opener in the second drawer, all this could have been avoided.’ Harry wagged his finger and somehow made her smile, and then she looked away because Harry was usually in a suit. She didn’t think she’d seen so much of his skin before, at least, not this close up. His arms were very long but muscular too, and she could see just a smattering of chest hair when Marnie was rather more used to smooth. He looked tired yet there was a certain air of elation to him that Marnie didn’t quite understand.

‘I’ve managed to convince her to not visit till tomorrow, it would be after ten before she got here. How did the repair go?’

‘Very well,’ Harry said. ‘Kelly will be bringing him round to the obs ward soon… .’ His voice trailed off as his pager went and Harry read the message, then asked if he could use her phone.

‘Sure.’

‘Hi, Mum,’ Harry said. ‘Yes, sorry about that, it took a bit longer than I thought. Put him on.’ Marnie tried to look away as he chatted to Adam but her eyes kept drifting towards him.

To think she’d expected him to have a bit of a paunch by now—he had a very flat stomach and very muscular legs and, as he sat on the edge of her desk as he spoke, Marnie could see the hair on his arms.

He was, as if Marnie didn’t already know, very, very beautiful.

Dangerous too.

Dangerous, because Marnie rarely opened up to anyone, yet with Harry she did too easily. Even the brief conversation about her phone call with her mother was far more than she would usually share and Marnie’s foot tapped, with tension rather than impatience, as Harry spoke on.

She wanted to get away from him.

She wanted to go home, just so she could give herself a good talking to.

After speaking to Adam, he chatted at length to Charlotte, though he could see Marnie’s foot tapping in mid-air out of the corner of his eye, but then she stood and went and stared out of the window as Harry laughed and talked on. ‘What do you mean, it’s not fair?’ He spoke a little while longer and then said goodnight and put down the phone.

‘Charlotte’s jealous that Adam has got chickenpox,’ Harry said to Marnie, who was still looking out of the window. He watched her shoulders move in a small laugh and then wretched guilt at keeping him from his children caught up and Marnie turned her head.

‘Say it,’ Marnie challenged, her blue eyes glittering.

‘Say what?’ Harry frowned.

‘Go on,’ Marnie insisted. ‘Say whatever’s on your mind.’

Harry gave a wry grin. ‘Such as…’

‘It’s different when it’s you or your family,’ Marnie offered, turning to face him.

‘That’s not what’s on my mind.’

‘Hypocrite, then?’ Marnie suggested.

‘No…’ He was walking towards her.

‘Just say it.’

‘You’re quite sure?’ Harry said, and it was at that moment exactly that she realised that Harry had something else on his mind, something very similar to what was on hers as she saw the burn of arousal in his eyes. ‘You’re quite sure that you want me to say what’s on my mind?’

She looked at him properly then, saw the Harry she hadn’t seen in a very long time. There was an energy to him that had been missing, an energy that she hadn’t seen since a certain night in the doctors’ mess when he’d asked why she was leaving so soon—only this time it was potent.

If he’d been on the other side of the desk, she might have had a chance to deny him. Might have been able to rein in common sense and come up with some witty retort that would end things before they were started.

Except he was standing in front of her. She could smell the lust, the want, the need, and it was intoxicating and, quite simply, Marnie couldn’t resist. One small nod was all the affirmation needed for Harry to tell his truth.

‘I want you.’

His mouth came down and crushed Marnie’s. He was so tall he had to, not just stoop but almost lift her to exert the pressure that this kiss demanded.

Marnie was no stranger to lust but she’d never felt it as ferociously or as deliciously as this.

Every snap, every snarl, every flirt, every tease was now being paid back tenfold by the probe of his tongue and the roaming of his hands.

Or was it her hands? One was in his hair, messing it to the way she had first seen it, the other moving down over his arm, but only so she could force a space to get to his back and to the taut buttocks she had admired from behind on far too many occasions.

It was lust uninterrupted, Marnie for once out of control, and she liked it.

‘I remember you now…’ He was opening the buttons to her navy dress and not for a moment did she think of halting him. Whatever was wrong in the world, this was the antidote and for now, this moment, they celebrated their discovery. ‘Harry…’ She could feel his arousal pressed into her; one hand was lifting her dress and he moaned into her mouth as he felt her soft thigh. As he slipped his hand higher, it was Marnie who moaned.

‘Not here…’ Marnie pulled back but her words were contrary to her actions; she was kissing his face, her hands lifting his top just to get to his skin, just to bury her mouth in his salty chest and taste him. ‘Not here…’ Marnie moaned again, and Harry almost came as he looked down at her licking her lips. ‘Harry.’ She was wrestling for control. Hell, she was the nurse unit manager, her mother could have changed her mind and arrived any minute, Kelly could knock at the door…

‘I don’t get involved with anyone at work.’

‘Not a problem.’ Harry turned the lock on her door and then picked her up and lifted her over to the desk. ‘I just resigned.’