Читать книгу The Midwife's New-found Family - Fiona McArthur - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

INSIDE the house dark lacquered wood floors showcased several glowing rugs that screamed of ancient Persia and threw glorious splashes of colour against the darkness. Bizarrely, she felt strangely at home.

Odd-shaped chairs constructed from driftwood stood around the walls and a huge, ancient seaman’s chest used as a table was covered with books.

The glassed circular centre of the house had three other rooms leading off it. Ben drew her into a sunlit bathroom furnished like a shiny capsule from a luxury motor yacht complete with a huge round tub on one side that looked over the beach, then he finally let her go.

She looked down at her hand, and incredibly her fingers looked normal. So why did they pulse with the sensation of being held by this man? She’d expected her skin where he’d touched to at least glow.

No such fanciful complaint seemed to bother him as he passed her a fresh facecloth and towel. ‘There’s a new toothbrush in the drawer. I’ll leave you to it.’ Then he closed the door behind him as he left.

She stared into the oval mirror that someone had surrounded incongruously with a circle of inexpertly glued shells. Were these the shells from the vision? Her pale and strained face stared back at her. So she was meant to be here?

OK. So she’d made a fool out of herself by throwing up. But it wasn’t every day you came across a man face down in the water.

She tried not to think of what would have happened if she hadn’t had the premonition, but she would never again even hint that she regretted the oddness of her occasional second sight.

That gift had saved this man’s life, and she would be forever grateful.

The cold water helped restore normality as it splashed against her heated cheeks, and as she brushed her teeth Misty glanced once more at her reflection.

A little colour had crept back into her face and she couldn’t subdue the tiny flutter of ridiculous satisfaction that all the years of her nurse’s training had stood by her on the beach.

She’d saved a life.

Here she stood, alone with a handsome stranger in his beach house, and she couldn’t deny there was a delectable magnetism about the man that had her intrigued.

As long as she remembered this was a moment out of time and not the real world.

When she opened the bathroom door the central room proved empty, and as she glanced around the worry returned that maybe Ben wasn’t as well as he’d seemed a few minutes ago.

‘In here.’ His voice sounded infinitely fatigued and her step quickened.

Ben sat on the edge of a wide white bed with a towel around his waist. She pulled her eyes and thoughts back from considering what lay underneath that towel—what on earth was she thinking?—and looked at his face.

The profile she recognised from the vision now seemed indelible in her mind. His chest showed lines of angry abrasions and her sensible side returned as she crossed the room quickly.

She sank to her knees beside the bed in front of him and looked up into his face. She examined his eyes as well as she could in the dim room. Both pupils seemed equal and reactive when she shaded the light.

‘How is your head?’ She ran her fingers lightly over the spongy swelling under his hairline and he winced.

‘Ouch,’ she said in sympathy, but didn’t pause as she continued her check. He’d have to put up with the discomfort because she needed to know if there was something worse to find.

‘I can tell you’re in the medical profession,’ he murmured.

She grinned and palpated his scalp to ensure the bone didn’t feel displaced underneath. The bump seemed slightly smaller already than when she’d first checked it.

Her hand slid around the base of his skull to check for further injury and his ink-black hair felt soft and springy, and curled around her fingers as if welcoming her touch. It seemed so long since she’d done that, she’d forgotten the sensation of running her fingers through a man’s hair.

‘It seems OK,’ she said as she forced her fingers to untangle themselves from a warm and welcoming place they didn’t want to leave.

‘My head is improving all the time, especially when you stroke it.’ His voice held a whisper of weary teasing and her hand bounced away as if scalded.

When she met his eyes he smiled wryly at her reaction. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m cold and headachy. But I am curious to know your name.’

‘Misty.’ She nodded at his chest and looked at him for tacit permission before she touched it. The jagged scratches were red and welted but she couldn’t see any pieces of shell in the wound. She rested her hand over the wounds and felt the heat of inflammation.

‘Look at your poor chest.’ A sudden mad impulse to kiss her fingertips and pat his wounds better made her straighten away from him. What on earth was the matter with her? This man was an unknown entity and after today she’d never meet him again. She glanced at the blood on her fingers and admonished herself.

She stood and nodded towards the en suite she could see across the room. ‘May I use that?’

‘Of course. And there’s antibiotic powder on the shelf we could use.’

After washing her hands, she used a small clean towel to blot the blood from his chest and then puffed the powder onto his wounds. She stood back and tried to think what else she could do for him, but her mind was suddenly blank so she returned the towel and the powder to the tiny bathroom. When she returned at least she’d thought of something. ‘Is your tetanus booster up to date?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly, ‘and scratches are a small price to pay.’ He patted the bed next to him.

Seconds later Misty found herself sitting hip to hip with him and she had no idea how she’d got there as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer in mutual comfort. They sat there side by side, contemplating his lucky escape.

It did seemed weirdly appropriate to hold each other at the memory of the event and surprisingly she drew the comfort he had intended from the gesture.

Suddenly she felt at ease with this man whose life had hung so precariously in the balance that very afternoon, and with the heat of his skin against hers came the reinforcement of the knowledge of his survival. The satisfaction grew that this man was here safe and solidly warm against her, and the other world outside the house seemed a million miles away.

He turned and dropped a gentle kiss, warm and fleeting, on her lips, and it was over before she could begin to avoid it, unlike the impact. Her lips seemed to vibrate with the memory and she mashed them together as if to blot the imprint out because the thrumming continued in decreasing waves.

She felt suspended in time and his voice floated over her. ‘Thank you for saving my life, Misty.’ She could do nothing but stare back at him. His eyes were as blue as the ocean he’d come from and his gaze roamed her face. She could feel heat beneath her skin under his scrutiny and suddenly there was a clawing tumble of unbidden sensations in her belly.

She blinked and broke eye contact as she looked away. ‘Let me see your back.’

Ben closed his eyes and twisted his body so she could see.

He sighed. At least one of them had their feet firmly on the ground. Perhaps it was his concussion but he was having difficulty concentrating on anything else but her beautiful mouth and luscious body pressed against his. This was a damn inappropriate time to start dreaming about what she would look like with her shirt off.

Then she touched his back with those slender mermaid’s fingers of hers, and not being able to see her hands on him made it more erotic than it should have been. He could imagine her leaving luminous trails on his skin, like lines in the water at night.

He shifted uncomfortably as desire stirred beneath the towel and he turned and reached across to capture her hand to still her fingers.

He looked down at her hand. Such long fingers as they lay in his. Such invisible strength within them. She must have a heart as strong as a lioness’s. He had no doubt that was her secret.

There was something pure and golden and unselfish about Misty that shone so brightly even someone as jaded as he could see her worth.

His grip tightened and unconsciously he inched her back to face him until their sides touched again. And then he froze. What was he doing?

His head ached, his chest hurt and he’d nearly died. And he owed his survival to this woman.

All the more reason to act on the moment, his inner demon suggested unhelpfully.

He did not need another complication in his life and from the little he’d seen of her he had no doubt this woman could be extremely complicating.

There seemed a certain naiveté about her that warned him he was the much more experienced of the two of them, but it also unmanned him.

‘Thank you, Misty. I think you’d better go.’

Her eyes widened and he saw the moment she realised what he meant. Heat dusted her cheeks and she stood up quickly and looked around the room as if she’d forgotten where the exit was.

He smiled at her disorientation even as it showed him more than anything that he’d done the right thing. So she could feel it too, he thought.

He stood to follow her to the door when without warning the room tilted away from him like the deck of a ship.

A rush of cold doused him and then nothing as he fell backwards.

Misty managed to reach out and guide him sideways and back onto the bed, but even lifting his muscled legs reminded her of the struggle she’d had to get him out of the water.

She bent to lift his lids but his eyes flickered open again and he blinked groggily as he tried to sit up.

His face shone like alabaster even in the dim room. ‘What happened?’

‘You fainted. I think you should stay down, Ben. I’ll call an ambulance so they can check you out at the hospital.’

He lifted his hand and rested it over his eyes. ‘I don’t need a hospital. It would be a wasted trip for emergency services when they could be saving someone else.’

Misty stilled. ‘That’s ridiculous.’ She ticked off his symptoms on her fingers. ‘You’ve lost consciousness twice from a head injury, had a respiratory arrest, and are probably brewing pneumonia. You need to be observed.’

Ben rubbed his forehead. ‘I’m fine. I just need to sleep.’

Misty couldn’t help her hands going to her hips and she stood over him and glared. The man was exasperating. ‘You might never wake up.’

He didn’t look like he cared and she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. ‘Imagine the waste of energy today for me.’

Ben sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Misty. You’re a darling. But I’m not going anywhere. Especially to a hospital!’ Finality rang in the last four words.

Misty stamped her foot and he winced at the noise. Then she felt guilty. Her voice dropped to nurse-speak. ‘Come on, Ben. Be sensible. I can’t just leave you.’

He sighed. ‘So observe me for another hour, or the four required, and then when you feel satisfied you can go. Or stay in a spare room and leave in the morning.’

Misty glanced at her watch. Four hours. It would be dark by the time she left but what choice did she have? She did not want to read in the paper about a man found dead in his beach house.

She could stay until she was sure he was fine. She wasn’t expected until tomorrow and would at least know he was going to be OK before she departed. She looked around but there wasn’t a chair in the room, which left only the bed. She’d drag in a chair from somewhere.

Ben had moved while she’d been going over her options. ‘So how did you stumble across me in my hour of need? The beach is usually deserted.’

Misty rarely spoke about her gift and she hesitated at sharing such a personal subject with a stranger. Now was not the time to get into a discussion that would probably end with Ben thinking her fanciful.

‘Just luck. I’ll get a chair.’

Ben lifted his arm and pulled a pillow across from the pile at the top of the bed and put it by his side. His weary eyes twinkled despite his exhaustion.

‘Here. Lie down next to me. I’ll put a wall up so I don’t attack you.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Misty said, and went to explore the house to find a seat. There was a huge old recliner in the next room that looked incredibly comfortable but it would never fit through the door into Ben’s room.

Then there were the driftwood chairs on the verandah that looked fabulous but when she sat on them they were like bony park benches with knobs and bends in uncomfortable places. She couldn’t lounge on them for four hours.

The kitchen had high-backed bar stools and she sighed as she carried one through.

‘That looks comfortable,’ Ben said conversationally, but then he shook his head. ‘I’ll get up. I can’t stand the thought of you perched up there just because you’re a good Samaritan. It’s really not been a good day for good Samaritans all round. I wouldn’t have nearly drowned if I hadn’t been trying to save a bird. It’s a step too far for you to suffer further on my account.’

He was either incredibly well mannered or incredibly sneaky but she really had no choice if he threatened to get up.

‘For goodness’ sake, I’ll lie down next to you. But don’t blame me if I go to sleep. I’ve been driving since early this morning and spent a couple of hours in the sun this afternoon.’

‘Perfect. We’ll both sleep.’ He closed his eyes briefly, as if they stung.

She was glad to see his eyelids droop but then he began to speak again.

‘My luck must have changed,’ he said with his eyes still shut. Then they opened and he said quite seriously, ‘You have a way of making me forget all reason in the most disconcerting way.’

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that statement because it came just as she lowered herself onto the bed as far away as possible from him.

He smiled across at her, and it changed him into a much younger man, a less world-weary one, and for a moment her knees trembled and she was pathetically grateful she was lying and not standing because she might have collapsed, boneless, on top of him.

Then he looked away and she managed to draw a discreet steadying breath and edge an inch further away from him.

He wasn’t having that. He lifted his shoulder and slid across the bed until their shoulders were touching, and then slid his arm under and around her shoulders. Ben’s hand was cool against her but insidiously heat rose up her body like black ink soaking into white chalk.

And once there the heat wasn’t going anywhere. It just got warmer and warmer.

‘So where have you driven from today and where are you going?’

Misty tried to focus on what he’d said. Anything to move her mind away from the slow combustion going on inside her.

Focus on the real world. That’s a novel idea, she mocked herself, and organised her thoughts to where they should be.

‘I’m moving to Lyrebird Lake to work in a birth centre with my brother and sister-in-law.’

Ben’s interest seemed genuine. ‘What does your brother do?’

‘Andy? He’s the GP running the bush hospital, but doesn’t have much to do with the birthing side. He married my best friend and they’re expecting a new baby. The unit’s for women-centred care. The absolute best place to have a baby.’

He frowned, and Misty could see he was unfamiliar with the term. ‘Women-centred care. Define that?’

This was a wonderful diversion from the heat in her stomach. Misty could talk about this gladly. ‘Each midwife has her own caseload of clients in order to better meet the needs of the woman. It gives more satisfaction all round.’ She couldn’t help the excitement even she could hear in her voice.

‘The idea is to give each woman holistic care that can cover all the facets of being pregnant from antenatal education, mental status, breastfeeding and, of course, caring for baby when he or she comes home.’

Ben stared at her as if he didn’t get it. ‘I know obstetrics but it sounds like nothing I’ve ever had contact with.’ His voice held an extra dimension she couldn’t quite place but he went on quickly as if speeding away from the topic he’d started and now regretted.

His voice dropped. ‘Babies. New life.’

Ben turned his head to stare at the ceiling. ‘I wonder if what happened today means my slate is clean? Can I begin a new life because I so nearly lost the old one?’

The nuance of despair could have been imagined but something in his profile tugged at Misty.

She memorised the contours of his face for the time soon when she’d have to leave. ‘I believe anyone can start a new life if they are determined.’

He turned to look at her and there was a glow in his eyes that made her catch her breath. ‘Maybe you are destined to change my life.’

Impossible dream. She lifted her hand and peered at her watch as if to remind herself she needed to leave. Not that the fish would mind if she never went back to the beach to catch them. ‘I’m planning on doing a bit more with my life than running around dragging you out of life-threatening situations, Ben.’

His arms tightened. Even his aura seemed to drift around her like the sea that had almost claimed him. ‘But you saved my life so beautifully,’ he said.

The memories rushed back and she shivered. ‘Don’t joke about it, Ben, please. Today was very close.’

He stilled and then squeezed her shoulder in comfort and regret for upsetting her again. ‘Resuscitation is always frightening. I’m sorry you had to do that, Misty.’

She forced her mind away from those indelible pictures and closed the subject with finality. ‘I think I’ll get up.’

He ignored her statement and tightened his arm around her and lowered his voice so she’d have to strain to hear him. ‘So you’re a midwife. That would explain the mothering you’ve been doing.’

Her neck ached from the strain of wanting to sink into his arm and she gave up. She rested her head back and stared rigidly at the ceiling.

She blinked. He had stars glued in constellations on the roof. It was amazing, and she imagined they would glow fabulously at night. It would have taken days to create. She frowned. He had too much time on his hands, she thought as she tried to remember what he’d said while she tried to identify the star signs. Oh, yes, midwives and mothering.

‘Known a few midwives, have you?’ she said.

He gave a short mirthless laugh and she was jolted out of her contemplation of his ceiling.

‘In my time.’ His voice held self-contempt and she frowned at the disruption to the ambience in the room.

‘I worked in that environment but nothing like you’ve spoken about,’ he said. ‘It was in another lifetime and I don’t think I could ever go back to that.’

‘You’re an obstetrician, then?’ That would explain his midwife comment.

‘Was.’

She let the word lie between them because something told her she’d been privileged to hear even that information. It seemed she’d done the right thing because he went on as if the words were forced out of him.

‘Never going back.’

She couldn’t help it. ‘Why?’

He breathed deeply. ‘In our job, sad things occasionally happen and everyone has bad runs. It’s funny how something you would normally accept as a tragedy of nature can overwhelm you unexpectedly. That’s all.’

Misty had seen her fair share of sadness but, then, she’d always felt that dealing with loss in midwifery was a privilege to share with the parents. ‘I guess it depends on your own life experience how things can affect you.’

‘You don’t know how true that is,’ he said, and the way the words dragged out of him she decided she wouldn’t offer any more comments in case she caused more damage.

The silence stretched and Misty didn’t know whether to change the subject or just wait. After what seemed like an eternity she eased her fingers into his palm and wrapped her hand around his to at least let him know she was aware of his pain.

At her tentative offer of comfort his fingers stiffened in surprise and then, very slowly, his fingers relaxed in hers. She was glad he hadn’t rebuffed her. She sensed he wasn’t used to people offering him comfort and it made her want to pull his head down onto her chest and say it was all OK. But she couldn’t do that. She didn’t even know this man.

Ben raised his head and laughed softly if somewhat sardonically at his hand in Misty’s. ‘Imagine you wanting to comfort me.’

‘I don’t find that amusing,’ Misty said quietly.

He turned his head and looked at her. His smile softened. ‘No, you wouldn’t. Because you, dear Misty, are a real person, and I haven’t seen your like for a very long time.’

She let go of his hand. ‘Probably because you live in a beach house on a deserted beach,’ she said dryly. ‘You haven’t seen any people. You should get out more.’

‘Actually, I’ve done all I need to do with my life. I’ve written a text on postnatal depression and achieved all I was going to achieve. You should probably have left me to drown.’

Misty felt his words like a vicious jab to the stomach and she drew in a breath. ‘Don’t ever speak like that again,’ she said fiercely.

She leaned up on one elbow and stared down into his face and glared ferociously, suddenly livid with him. He looked world-wearily amused but she didn’t care. This was important.

‘Every life is precious. It is sad not all patients can be saved—but you have been! By me, and that gives me some rights to tell you so. There is a desperate need for skills like yours out in this world. How dare you just fritter them away like a wastrel in your beach house?’

She barely drew breath she was so angry. ‘You were given a new chance on life today, a chance you nearly didn’t have. One of the mysteries of the universe is how I found you.’ She poked him in the chest. ‘I could have drowned trying to save you so don’t you even think of letting me down.’

Misty subsided but she could feel her heart pounding with the agitation of her emotions. She didn’t know this man, this person she’d just lectured like some prissy know-it-all, but maybe saving his life did give her some rights because it had needed saying—but now it was horrible because she felt the tears welling as she tried to calm down.

Ben sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Misty. I was being irresponsibly flippant. Everything you say is right. It was a glib and silly comment and I do regret upsetting you.’

It was his turn to rise on one elbow and look down into her face. She hoped he couldn’t see the tears at the corners of her eyes because suddenly she felt weepy and miserable, no doubt from the huge emotions of the day, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

Ben noticed. He turned her towards him and gathered her close to encircle her body with his arms. ‘I’m sorry, mermaid.’

He pulled her even closer until their cold noses were touching. She could feel his heat between them from her breasts to her hips and again at the knees and his eyes stared into hers, intense and questioning.

‘Where have you come from?’ Their noses rubbed. ‘Why couldn’t I have met you when I was young and idealistic, like you?’ He frowned as if it was all beyond his understanding. ‘How can there be such emotion and connection between two strangers?’

She knew just what he meant. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered as she watched him shake his head and then wince at the discomfort.

His deep tones caressed her. ‘I don’t understand, Misty, but I’m very, very grateful. Thank you for saving my life, and putting your precious life at risk to do that. I will always value your gift. Now, hush. It’s OK.’

He kissed away the dampness from her cheeks, feather-touched the end of her nose with his mouth, and finally settled his firm lips on hers. And then it all merged.

It was there, that destined connection she’d only dreamt of in her bed late at night, and there was no doubting it was a gift he hadn’t expected either.

He pulled back to stare, perplexed and startled, into her face and then his breath merged seamlessly with hers again as he kissed her until his very soul touched a place she’d known she had but had never dared to open.

He drew her even closer until through the mutual rise and fall of their chests she could feel his heart pound in time to hers. His eyes never left hers as he drew away.

‘Rest. We’ll both rest,’ he said, then he lay back and stared at the ceiling. ‘It’s been a big day.’

What was he doing? Back off, Ben admonished himself as he rested his head back on the pillow. She’d saved his life and here he was trying to ruin hers. How low could he go?

But what the hell had just happened?