The Reunion Of A Lifetime: The Reunion of a Lifetime / A Bride to Redeem Him. Fiona LoweЧитать онлайн книгу.
the same condition.
Moving more slowly than usual, her shower and breakfast had taken longer. Although she had no plans to ever admit this to anyone—especially not to her mother—Lauren had needed to sit and rest for a few minutes after the shower. Lexie had texted, All good here. Will drop around some scripts this afternoon for you to sign.
Sue had telephoned to check in on her, saying, ‘Rest. Lexie and I have everything under control. Peter Li in Surfside is happy to see any sickies and we can work around everyone else.’
Lauren had listened to her mother and murmured appropriately so as not to give Sue any clues that she had no intention of staying home. Today was the day Mackenzie Strickland was coming in for her test results and Lauren was determined to be the one to give them to her. The plan for the day was simple—wait until Sue left on her district nurse round and then drive to the clinic, which was why she was now trying not to flinch as she turned the wheel of her car and pulled into her designated parking spot.
Move slowly, she reminded herself as she cautiously got out of the car. She’d driven past the café on her way and had shivered when she’d seen the police tape. Her mind kept going to the question, what if Charlie had been a second slower in reacting? Last night, her sleep had been broken either by the ache of her ribs or by vivid dreams. All had woken her with a start but she wasn’t sure which dream had scared her the most—the one where fear had gripped her as she was thrown to the ground or the one where she’d snuggled into Charlie’s chest.
This was another reason she was better off at work. Sitting at home gave her too much time to think. She didn’t want to think about how close to death she’d come and she didn’t want to think about Charlie, full stop. ‘Morning.’ She stepped into the clinic, using the side entrance.
‘What are you doing here?’ Lexie’s question was terse with surprise. ‘You’re supposed to be resting.’
‘I’ve rested. I’ve come to sign the scripts and save you a trip.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘I wanted to. Also, I know you cancelled everyone but can you please ring Mackenzie and ask her to come in? I don’t want her to have to wait any longer than—’ Voices drifted up the corridor from the direction of the consulting rooms. ‘Who’s here?’
Lexie, who rarely smiled, did exactly that. ‘Charlie.’
‘Charlie? Charlie Ainsworth?’ she asked inanely, her brain stalling.
‘Of course, Charlie Ainsworth.’ Lexie threw her a look that suggested Lauren had lost her mind. ‘Do you think I’d let Charlie Petroni or Charlie Rogers into the treatment room without a staff member?’
‘But Charlie’s not a staff member.’
‘He is this week.’ Again, Lexie looked at her as if she was a sandwich short of a picnic. ‘If you can’t remember that then he’s right about those strong painkillers messing with your concentration. You shouldn’t be seeing patients. Are you sure you should even be driving?’
‘I’m fine,’ she ground out, suddenly cross. Not that she was exactly sure who she was mad at or in which order. Had her parents overstepped the mark and asked Charlie to work at the clinic? No. they wouldn’t do that, would they? Had he just taken it on himself to work here uninvited? Would he be that bold?
The voices increased in volume and then Charlie was ushering Mackenzie Strickland across the foyer and out of the clinic, his smile as broad as the patient’s. White anger, pure and hot, poured through Lauren. How dare you! That was my news to give Mackenzie.
‘Who’s next, Lex?’ Charlie turned towards Reception. ‘Lauren?’ Surprise widened his eyes and raised his brows, along with a flash of something that vanished as quickly as it had come.
He looked different but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. His ever-present weariness still clung to him, lingering in the lines on his face, but the blue on blue of his eyes positively sparkled. A hypnotic energy whizzed around him in an enticing buzz that drew her in and that’s when it hit her. Charlie looked happy.
‘May I please speak with you in my office?’ she said tightly. Without waiting for him to reply, she stalked down the corridor. The moment he was inside the room and the door closed behind him, she said, ‘What are doing here?’
‘Talking to you?’
‘Don’t be a smartarse. Why are you here?’
He sat down in such a casual manner she wanted to scream. ‘I think it’s fairly self-explanatory. You’re crook and I’m a doctor.’
‘You’re a trauma surgeon, not a GP.’
‘I’m still a doctor.’
‘You’re on holidays.’ She caught the flash of unease in his eyes and it quenched her anger, leaving her feeling rattled. ‘You are on holidays, right? A brief visit of a few days?’
‘Actually...’ His fingers tapped out a tune on his thighs ‘...it’s a bit longer than that.’
Her mouth dried. Her heart rate picked up, pumping threads of anxiety through her. She didn’t want or need Charlie in Horseshoe Bay for an extended length of time. She could handle a week. She quickly calculated that as he’d arrived three days ago that meant he only had four left. She could survive four, no problem. Easy-peasy. ‘So a week, right?’
‘I’m here until Easter.’
Six weeks! No. No. No! She sat down before she fell down.
* * *
Charlie watched Lauren’s hand grip the edge of her desk before she skated her chair in close. Granted, he’d been accused by women in the past of missing emotional clues but there was nothing subtle about Lauren’s anger. She seethed with it—its tentacles lashing and whipping him from the moment he’d spied her across the clinic foyer. That she was angry with him was clear. Why she was angry was another matter entirely.
Yesterday, after they’d cleared up a decade-old misunderstanding and he’d apologised, they’d shared a companionable afternoon watching Bogart and Hepburn on TV slugging it out in The African Queen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat and watched a movie from start to finish without either being interrupted or interrupting himself. But there was nothing friendly or companionable about Lauren now.
Was it pain-induced anger and distress? He’d been surprised to see her at the clinic, especially as the registrar at Surfside Hospital, her parents, Lexie and himself had all told her she needed to take three days off to give her ribs a chance to ease and start healing. She’d appeared to listen and agree and yet here she was, extremely irritable and unhappy. If they had been fencing and she’d been holding a sabre, he’d have been in danger of being run through.
With a brisk and practised move, Lauren clicked on her mouse and her computer screen flickered to life. ‘Please go back to enjoying your holiday.’
Enjoying his holiday? That was an oxymoron. He was more than happy to work. He’d already calculated that if he did two sessions a day at the clinic Monday to Friday—hell, he’d work weekends too—he might just survive the next six weeks of imposed leave. Meanwhile, Lauren’s complexion was tinged with the tight whiteness of pain and he wanted to ease that.
‘Lauren, why are you pushing yourself? No one expects you to work for the rest of the week.’
‘I have patients.’
‘Who I’m more than happy to look after.’ He’d only done two hours’ work so far this morning but already he felt lighter and far more like himself. He loved surgery but he was getting a kick from interacting with patients in a different way. ‘It’s been a bit like old home week. Mr. Colvin remembered me.’
When he and Harry had been twelve and nine respectively, they’d been given the job of meeting the cray boat on the pier. The instructions from their parents