The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him. Fiona LoweЧитать онлайн книгу.
look of incredulity crossed Charlie’s face that someone would question his plans. ‘Ms...um...?’
‘Fuller,’ Sue said with a smile. ‘Sue Fuller. I’m the district nurse and Lauren’s mother.’
‘I’m Charlie Ainsworth. I’m a trauma surgeon with Australia Aid and I deal with life-and-death situations all the time.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ Sue said sympathetically, ‘but today you’re part of the accident too.’ She dropped a blanket over the two of them. ‘Sorry but this is our last one. You’ll have to share. Shane, you can take them now.’
‘Sorry,’ Lauren muttered, not sure if her light-headedness was from the ever-increasing pain or the fact she was sharing a blanket with Charlie.
His right side flanked her left and his heat poured into her. It skimmed along her veins in a heady mix of lust and yet at the same time it was familiar and almost comforting. Red-hot pain and logical resistance duelled with visceral longing. Her vision blurred at the edges. The room started to spin. She tried to stay upright but her legs lost strength and as her knees gave way, she sagged onto him. His arm circled her and she flinched. ‘Ribs.’
‘Hell. Sorry.’ He dropped his arm lower across her hip but still held her.
Despite his gaunt frame, he felt solid and secure. Without being aware of exactly how it happened, her cheek was resting on his chest and the steady and rhythmic beat of his heart sounded reassuringly in her ear. As his hand gently stroked her hair she heard him say quietly, ‘It’s okay, Lauren.’
She closed her eyes.
* * *
While Charlie waited for the electric kettle to boil, he looked around Lauren’s kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers, until he found the mugs and teabags. He had no idea how she took her tea—twelve years ago she hadn’t even drunk tea—so he chose a lemon and ginger teabag, figuring that way he didn’t have to worry about milk.
They’d only just returned from the hospital. It turned out Lauren’s father had been one of the paramedics—yet another thing he’d learned about her today—and Ian had driven them home in the rig. The burly man with salt-and-pepper curls had insisted on taking Lauren to her childhood home but she’d objected. ‘Both you and Mum are at work until four so I may as well stay at my place.’
Ian had muttered something under his breath but had driven her to her sandstone cottage. While Lauren had walked down the short path to the front door, Ian had taken Charlie aside. ‘My daughter’s stubborn. But you know as well as I do she’s groggy after the Endone so she can’t be on her own.’
‘I’ll stay with her,’ Charlie had offered immediately, as much for himself as for Lauren.
Something weird and unsettling had happened to him at the hospital when Lauren had been wheeled off to X-Ray. The entire time she’d been gone, he’d been twitchy and jumpy. Flashes of the damn car coming straight at her—at them—had played in a continuous loop in his head, but the moment the porter had wheeled her back to him, the images had stopped. He’d known his thought process of If I can see her she’s safe had been totally irrational, but if it kept the flashbacks at bay, he’d play along.
‘Thank you.’ Ian had pumped Charlie’s hand generously. ‘And thank you so much for your quick thinking and saving her life. You see a lot in this job and...’ The experienced man’s voice had cracked. ‘Well, I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, it’s probably a good idea for both of you to be together so you can talk about what happened. Debrief. You know, help with the flashbacks, that sort of thing.’
The kettle pinged and Charlie concentrated on making two mugs of tea. He carried them into the living room where Lauren lay on a couch, propped up on a European pillow and with her eyes closed. He took advantage of the opportunity to study her carefully.
All those years ago it had been her wide smile and enormous eyes that had made him look twice at her, but it had been her laughter that had utterly captivated him. Even before Harry’s accident, no one in his family had laughed quite so enthusiastically or seen the humour in obscure things quite like she did. After that tragic day laughter had been silenced, which was why Lauren had breezed into his life like a breath of fresh air. Now he not only longed to hear her laugh, he craved to have her bestow that easy smile on him again. But before either of those things could happen, he had to find a way in, under or around the hectares of reserve she’d thrown up. Apart from the moment she’d slumped against him in the café and her warmth and softness had dived deep inside him, reviving wonderful memories, she’d held herself aloof in a way she’d not done once during their summer together.
‘Tea?’
She opened her eyes and turned their slightly glazed and out-of-focus attention onto him. Surprise lit their depths to a seductive caramel hue. It was clear she’d forgotten he was there. He hoped she’d forgotten she was mad at him.
‘Thank you.’ Her mouth curved up into a sloppy and happy smile.
‘My pleasure.’ Even though he knew her smile was the result of the narcotic painkiller she’d taken, a lightness washed through him. This was the Lauren he remembered. This was the Lauren he wanted to see more of.
‘You look crazy tall standing there,’ she said with a giggle, and lifted her legs. ‘Sit down.’
He could have sat in a chair but the idea of sitting on the couch with her was far too tempting. As his behind hit the couch cushion, her sock-clad feet slammed across his thighs in the exact way they’d done so many times during that long-ago summer. Back then, he’d loved touching her and he’d taken every chance he’d been offered, along with creating opportunities when chance had let him down. Now, presented with this unexpected happenstance, he wasn’t going to let it pass. It was as natural as breathing to slide his hand down her leg and rest it on her ankle, savouring the feel of her smooth skin silky against his palm. She didn’t object.
Silently, they sipped their tea. After a few minutes she raised her arm, staring at the ultralight cast with child-like wonder and slightly constricted pupils. ‘When I was a teenager, I would have killed for a nightstick fracture. I always envied kids with signed casts.’
‘I’ll sign it.’ He set his tea on the side table and pulled a pen out of his pocket.
‘Will you?’ Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks danced with joyful expectation. ‘What a guy!’ Then she laughed; a throaty, husky sound that spun around him like a cocoon, bringing with it memories of hot and sultry summer nights.
Lauren scooted in closer. The action not only brought her arm across his chest for easy access to sign, it also brought her head closer to his. He breathed in deeply, anticipating the scent of apples, but instead he inhaled a complex scent of the tang of the sea, the zip of citrus and a hint of antiseptic. He braced himself for disappointment but it didn’t come. The sweet adolescent scent had belonged to the younger Lauren and its innocent notes no longer suited the striking woman next to him.
Like him, she’d changed—life did that to a person. If he was honest, Harry’s accident had already changed him before he’d met Lauren all those years ago. He knew he’d used their summer together to take a time-out from the all the pain and heartache of the previous nine months. For a few precious weeks he’d pretended that the accident hadn’t happened and his family’s lives hadn’t been brutally upended. He hadn’t expected to fall in love. It had scared the hell out of him.
He was halfway through decoding the change in her scent—what it may or may not signify—when her heat poured into him in like fire water, streaking through his veins and exploding into every cell. The sweet curve of her behind pressed up against the side of his right thigh and the backs of her own thighs now rested on top of his. His heart pounded hard and fast, carrying her heat and scent around him until it pooled in his lap with an odd mix of yearning and urgency.
Stifling a groan, he closed his eyes and silently named the cranial nerves, trying to reverse the effects