Читать книгу Redeeming Dr Riccardi - Leah Martyn - Страница 8

TONI pushed herself, running lap after lap around the track adjacent to the park. Then, deciding she’d had enough, she leaned forward, hands on the fence railings, warming down. She jogged home leisurely, deciding she’d left herself just enough time to get ready for the Valentine party.

Showered, she blotted her hair dry and then stepped into her favourite silk underwear. She’d bought new clothes on her recent trip to Sydney. Now she just had to decide what to wear. And these days she pleased herself.

After flicking through her choices, she decided to dress simply in a sleeveless silk dress with a crossover bodice. In a dusky blush pink, it had a short draped skirt that fell just above her knees. She puffed perfume into the air and walked through it, then reached for the dress and slid it over her head.

Her make-up was minimal as usual—a touch of tinted moisturiser on her cheeks, a flick of muted shadow on her lids and lipstick in a soft coral. She slipped her feet into high-heeled sandals, pushed a broad silver bangle on her arm and stood back to get the overall picture in the mirror. The dress was gorgeous, the faint shimmer in the material pearling the fairness of her skin and highlighting her hair.

She’d do.

Toni drove across to the club. She intended to have only one glass of wine to celebrate and then she’d stay with mineral water. Besides, the evening was too warm to drink alcohol. But that wouldn’t stop most of the guests, she thought realistically.

She managed to park near the entrance of the club, which would be good for her early exit, she thought, sliding out of her car and activating the locking device on her keypad.

‘Toni!’ Hearing her name, Toni spun round to see Liz and Matt getting out of a taxi. She fluttered a wave and waited for them to catch up. ‘You look terrific, Lizzie,’ she said with a smile. Liz was wearing a bold red gown that floated to her ankles.

‘Thanks, I think.’ Liz looked doubtful. ‘It’s not too …?’ She indicated the deep cleavage.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Toni reassured her. ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it!’

‘That’s what I told her.’ Matt stuffed his wallet into his back pocket after paying off the cabbie. ‘How are you, Tone?’ He placed a peck on her cheek.

‘I’m fine, thanks, Matt. It should be a good night.’

Chatting, they made their way inside to the club’s function room.

‘Doesn’t everything look spectacular?’ Toni gave a little cry of delight, casting her eyes around at the table settings with their crisp white cloths and tea-lights. The mandatory hearts and roses were everywhere, although Toni doubted the roses were real. Unlike the beauties they’d received at the hospital …

‘Oh, here are some of our gang now,’ Liz said as Amy and Harmony arrived with their respective partners.

‘The girls look so pretty.’ Toni smiled. Both were wearing soft, floaty florals.

‘At their age, it would be a crime not to,’ Liz responded dryly. ‘This seems to be our table here.’

‘I’ll get some drinks,’ Matt said. ‘Toni, white wine?’

Toni nodded. ‘Thanks, Matt.’

‘You look amazing, by the way,’ Liz said as they took their places at the big round table. ‘Sydney?’

‘My favourite dress shop in Rose Bay.’

‘Shame Rafe’s not coming.’

‘Actually, he seemed pretty tired.’

‘Still,’ Liz contended, ‘it would have been a good look for the department if he’d shown.’

Toni raised a shoulder stiffly. Well, she’d asked him and he wasn’t here. But she was keeping that information strictly to herself.

The Valentine fundraiser would be a success, Toni decided as the evening wore on. Folk were in a happy and giving mood and tickets for their raffle were practically sold out. And the supper set out in buffet-style had been exceptional. And now people were beginning to drift on to the dance-floor.

Their table had emptied almost as soon as the dance music had begun. Left on her own, Toni took off towards the powder room, deciding she’d stay until they’d drawn the raffle and then she’d be away to her bed.

After refreshing her lipstick, Toni left the powder room. As she passed the bar on the way back to the table, she stopped and almost froze. Rafe was standing with his hip against the bar, elbow bent as he lifted a glass of orange juice to his mouth.

Toni took a step backwards as if to regain her equilibrium. Her breathing immediately felt tight and her stomach went into freefall as she admitted honestly, that physically Rafe Riccardi pushed every one of her buttons.

Steadying herself with a long breath, she went forward. ‘Hi …’

Rafe spun round. ‘Antonia—’ In an almost jerky motion he lowered his arm and placed his glass on the bar top.

For a few seconds there was an awkward silence while they each took stock.

Sweet God, she was lovely, Rafe thought. Beautiful and warm and … sexy. And he wanted her, as he hadn’t wanted a woman in ages. Maybe years.

He certainly scrubbed up well. Toni bit gently on the soft pad of her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to the pale blue shirt that moulded his broad shoulders, followed the tailored line of his black trousers to his black leather shoes. She pressed her clutch-bag tightly against her chest.

‘You managed to drag yourself here, then?’ Oh, lord. Toni almost groaned. That hadn’t come out right. But suddenly her tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.

Rafe gave a tight shrug. ‘Bernie Maguire put the weights on me to draw one of the raffle prizes.’

‘And you can’t very well ignore the chairman of the board,’ Toni agreed, oddly disappointed he hadn’t felt the need to respond to her invitation. ‘Our people are mostly at the table over here.’ She indicated with her hand. ‘Would you like to join us?’

‘Thanks.’ He picked up his glass. ‘Can I get you something to drink while we’re here?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ Toni shook her head. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘I had a steak at the pub.’

Toni flicked a tentative smile at him. ‘There’s dessert still going begging. Interested?’

‘Might be. What’s on offer?’

Well, not me. Toni’s heart began to patter. Were they playing games again? ‘There are three kinds of bread-and-butter pudding, for starters.’

His chuckle was a bit rusty. ‘My grandmother used to make bread-and-butter pudding.’

‘Not like this, she didn’t.’

‘Reckon?’ Rafe turned his head a fraction and sent her a slow, lazy smile.

Toni blinked, feeling shock waves of its aftermath right down to her toes. His smile was like the sun coming out. Shame he didn’t do it more often. They stopped at the table. ‘I’m sitting here.’ She put her clutch-bag down. ‘Park your drink and let’s find out, shall we?’

Rafe hesitated. ‘I’m not taking someone’s place, am I?’

‘I’m not here with anyone.’ Toni answered the question she assumed he was asking.

His mouth twitched. ‘Lead on, then. I need to see these puddings.’

At the buffet they bypassed a luscious tropical fruit salad, sorbet and various kinds of cheesecakes. ‘Now, here we have the bread and butter puddings,’ Toni said, hamming it up with a graceful sweep of her hand. ‘You could start with maple syrup and pecan, get a bit edgy and try the lemon curd and coconut and then give your tastebuds a real treat and finish with white chocolate and raspberry.’

Rafe clicked his tongue and sighed in mock-resignation. ‘It’s a hard call but someone has to do it. Going to join me?’

‘Of course.’ Toni’s mouth fell into a soft pout. ‘Can’t have you eating alone.’ With their selections made, they went back to the table.

‘So, where are you staying?’ Toni asked conversationally.

‘Joe and Cath kindly offered me the use of their annexe at the house.’

‘What a good arrangement. It’s a great space. They had it built for Joe’s dad originally but he didn’t stay long. Missed his mates in Sydney.’

‘It’s certainly very comfortable,’ Rafe agreed. ‘Close to the hospital. And the pool is a real bonus on these hot nights.’

‘Yes, it would be,’ Toni rejoined softly, her thoughts going into overdrive. She’d been invited to swim many times in the Lyons’ pool. And at night especially it was magical, with the lights by the pool shining back through the tropical shrubbery and edging the white jasmine with soft radiance. And the air you breathed was heavy with woodsy scents. Cath and Joe had created a very private place. Special. She wondered if Rafe found it so.

The creamy dessert slid over her tongue.

Did he swim naked …?

As if he’d divined the pattern of her thoughts, he remarked, ‘Joe said you swim at their place quite often. Don’t feel you have to stop just because they’re away.’

‘I wouldn’t want to invade your privacy.’

‘You wouldn’t be. Besides …’ His spoon paused midway from his dessert bowl ‘… it’s no fun swimming alone.’

Toni had no time to answer. Bernie Maguire materialised at the table. ‘Good, you’re both here,’ he said. ‘We’d like to get cracking if you don’t mind and draw these raffles. The mayor will be drawing the main prize and, Rafe, if you’d draw the winners for the cases of wine? And Toni …’ He looked down and gave her one of his big barracuda grins. ‘Might be a nice touch if you could draw out the winner for the luxury weekend.’

‘Me?’ Toni’s eyes went wide in alarm. ‘Bernie, I don’t think I should do it. There are more senior people at the hospital—’

‘Nonsense.’ Bernie clearly wasn’t having that. ‘It will be very appropriate having a good-looking couple from the hospital on stage. Very appropriate. Right, then.’ He rubbed his hands together, indicating mission accomplished. ‘I’ll just go and get things rolling.’

‘This is awful!’ Toni glanced despairingly at Rafe. ‘We … can’t have people thinking we’re a couple.’

Rafe shrugged. He could think of worse things. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s small-town politics. And folk will have found something more interesting to talk about tomorrow.’

Toni had her doubts about that but with Bernie’s voice already booming from the stage, inviting everyone to return to their tables for the drawing of the raffle prizes, she got slowly to her feet. The sooner they got this over the better.

With the prizewinners announced, Rafe and Toni squeezed their way through the dancers already back on the floor. They joined Matt and Liz, who were already seated at the table. ‘We’re just taking a little breather,’ Liz said, before introducing Rafe to her husband. She looked in sorrow at her pile of ticket stubs. ‘You know, I really thought I was in with a chance to win that luxury weekend.’

‘Sorry,’ Toni said with dry irony. ‘I couldn’t seem to find your ticket when I stuck my hand in the barrel.’

The men laughed. ‘I’ll get another round of drinks in.’ Matt got to his feet.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Rafe said. ‘But I’ll stick to OJ. Antonia?’

‘Oh …’ Toni felt her cheeks warm. ‘Mineral water, thanks.’

As the men walked companionably towards the bar, Liz turned to Toni, her raised brows speaking volumes. ‘Antonia?’

Toni rolled her eyes.

Liz smirked. ‘Scrubs up well, doesn’t he?’

‘Matt?’ Toni responded innocently.’

‘Oh, ha.’ Liz made a small face. ‘Riccardi, of course. And his voice—smooth as molasses. Do you think—you know?’She rocked her hand expressively. ‘He might fancy you?’

Toni felt the nerves in her stomach clench. If the micro-currents already running between them were to be acknowledged, then perhaps she and Rafe Riccardi might just fancy each other. But she wasn’t letting Liz get a whiff of that. No way. ‘Get over yourself, Lizzy.’

‘You looked pretty cosy together up on the stage.’ Liz persisted with her banter.

‘That was none of my doing. Bernie Maguire insisted. Anyway, enough of this crazy supposition,’ Toni said. ‘Here come the men with the drinks.’

The conversation between the two couples became general and light and then Matt asked, ‘So, Rafe, where were you working before coming here to Forrestdale?’ Always the journalist, he’d had begun to sniff out a story.

Rafe looked away, dropping his gaze to his glass, giving the orange juice his riveting attention. ‘I’ve been overseas for the past year, working for Médecins Sans Frontières in Cambodia.’

Liz’s arch look at Toni silently said, So now we know.

‘I imagine the population are still suffering the effects from the reign of that dictator?’ Matt considered himself well versed in world politics. ‘How is it now?’

Rafe frowned. ‘It’s still one of the most heavily land-mined countries in the world. One in every two hundred and fifty Cambodians has one or more amputations. But for all its tragic history, it’s still a beautiful country.’

‘Got to have had repercussions for the kids, though?’ Matt pressed for more.

‘They’ve lost a whole generation of their skills and professions. Of course it’s effected the kids,’ Rafe said tersely. ‘As we speak, half the country’s children are malnourished and one in seven will die before their fifth birthday, mostly from vaccine-preventable diseases.’

Toni felt her breathing falter. Rafe was clearly unsettled. The experience had obviously disturbed him deeply. And as a doctor it would be much worse dealing with so much heartache day after day. She hoped Matt would leave it alone now but of course he didn’t.

‘What about the basic necessities?’ he asked. ‘Drinking water? Sanitation?’

‘Use your imagination,’ Rafe growled.

‘I produce a programme on local radio called Conversations.’ Matt leaned forward eagerly. ‘Your experiences working for MSF would make interesting listening. Would you feel like coming over to the studio some time and having a chat with our presenter?’

Rafe’s mouth drew in. Probably not. Definitely not. But it wouldn’t kill him to be diplomatic. Like him, Matt had a job to do. ‘I’ll think about it. There’s no rush, is there?’

‘Take your time.’ Matt’s shrug was open-handed. ‘If, after a chat with Gillian, you don’t feel comfortable with the concept, no worries.’

Toni saw Rafe relax—not much, just a slight shift of the muscles under his shirt, but enough to know he was back in control of his emotions. She watched as he drained his drink and rose to his feet.

‘I’m going to split, guys. Enjoy the rest of the night.’

Toni’s worried eyes followed his exit.

‘So, now we know where’s he’s been.’ This time Liz gave voice to her thoughts. ‘I wonder if he intends going back?’

‘Probably.’ Matt’s lips twisted into a thoughtful moue. ‘Those guys in the front line tend to get addicted to the cause.’ He bracketed the word in the air.

Toni bristled silently. Quite out of the blue she felt protective of Rafe’s privacy. None of them here knew anything about his reasons for going to work for MSF. And she thought that Matt, whatever his best intentions, had ambushed him.

Suddenly, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt out of sync with her friends. She dredged up an off-key smile and got to her feet. ‘All that hard work drawing the raffle prizes has done me, guys. I think I’ll call it a night as well.’

‘I’ll walk you out,’ Matt said.’

‘No need.’ Toni waved away his offer. ‘I’m parked close to the front entrance. See you tomorrow, Lizzy. And, Matt, thanks as always for the free publicity for our fundraiser.’

‘Hey, any time.’ Matt nodded his acknowledgment. ‘I’ll be sure to pass it along to our station manager. Drive safely.’

Toni fluttered a wave. ‘‘Night.’

Toni’s thoughts were unresolved as she drove home. She got that Matt was a facilitator for his programme. And that was fair enough but surely he could have laid off grilling Rafe the way he had?

Damn! Just when Rafe had seemed relaxed enough to start enjoying the evening too. And now he’d probably crawl back into shell and she’d have to start all over again to try to winkle him out so at least they could have some kind of decent working relationship.

She pulled into her carport, killed the engine and went inside. Tossing her clutch-bag on the hall table and kicking off her sandals, she went through to the kitchen. She was wound up. She crossed to the counter and looked through the window at the courtyard. The solar lights had come on, sending the baskets of ferns into feathery silhouettes.

The silvery light reminded her of the Lyons’ pool at night. And reminded her that’s what she needed right now—to dive into its cool depths and thresh the water until she’d driven off this foul mood of frustration. But she couldn’t do that.

Rafe was in residence there.

Rafe heaved himself out of the pool. Standing naked in the moonlight, he shook the moisture from his hair and then bent and picked up his towel from the sun-lounger. Giving his body a cursory wipe, he slung the towel around his hips. He felt better now, his mind freed up from all those images that Matt’s questions had dumped all over him.

Padding back along the path to the annexe, he pushed open the screen door and went inside. The place was air-conditioned but so far Rafe had refrained from switching it on. He preferred the weather as it came. And in February it was stinking hot, the air almost brittle with stillness, the pungent smell of ripening mangoes everywhere. So intrinsic of everything Australian, he couldn’t get enough of it.

For now, anyway.