A Special Kind of Family (7 page)

‘I don’t think I ever had a choice. Two parents. One kid where there should have been three. Actually, four parents,’ she said, ‘for Charles’s parents might as well have been my own. It was always assumed we’d do great things. Charles’s parents knew he was going to be a doctor—though maybe that’s unfair. Charles certainly wanted to be one. I got carried along for the ride.’

‘But you like it?’

‘I love it,’ she said, and the dispirited tone gave way to sudden enthusiasm. ‘I never thought I would, but I do. Mind, they’re all desperately unhappy that I’ve chosen to work in emergency medicine rather than one of the status specialties. They think it’s an aberration. Some day soon I’ll settle to something more worthwhile.’

‘An aberration,’ he said, and turned and looked at Marilyn. ‘You and your dog. Aberrations both.’

‘What a thing to say.’ Suddenly she smiled and, damn, there was that feeling in the depths of his gut again. It was the loveliest smile.

She was the loveliest woman.

But she was tired. The smile faltered almost as it appeared. She yawned—and Marilyn yawned in sympathy.

He smiled at the pair of them.

‘Bed,’ he said. ‘Marilyn’s in hers. I’ll carry you to yours.’

‘No need. I can manage.’ She grabbed the crutches he’d found for her and struggled to her feet.

‘No,’ she said as he made a move to help her. ‘Thank you, Dominic,’ she said gently. ‘You’ve been great.’

He didn’t feel great. It nearly killed him to stay still and watch as she struggled out of the room. But somehow he did.

‘Goodnight,’ he said softly, and she turned and smiled.

‘Goodnight, Dom,’ she whispered. ‘And thank you.’

She was gone. The kitchen felt bleak for her going.

Which was nonsense.

He made a desultory effort to clear dishes. He moved Marilyn’s water bowl so she could reach it, and then as she stirred he thought okay maybe it was time, so he picked her up and carried her outside. She was moving herself now, but it filled a need to carry someone.

Erin for preference, but Marilyn was all that was on offer.

So he stood in the cool night air and waited until Marilyn completed her toileting. It was restful out under the stars.

He should feel peaceful.

Hell, he didn’t. Erin was settling into bed right through that window. Erin…

Marilyn was sniffing the grass, licking up the dew, raising her head and smelling new smells. She looked battered and exhausted, yet profoundly grateful for this moment—for the ability to smell the night air before going back to her pups.

‘Life’s okay,’ he said gently, and from the veranda came a response.

‘It looks okay from this angle, too.’

He turned and Erin was watching him from under the porch lights.

She was lovely. Mind-blowingly lovely.

‘You need to be in bed,’ he said, and felt dumb.

‘So do you.’

‘So what’s stopping us?’ He lifted Marilyn again and carried her up the steps. The big dog looked up at him with an expression of something akin to devotion.

‘Hey, don’t look at me like that,’ he told her. ‘Doc Carmody here’s the one who saved you.’

‘And you saved us both.’ Erin smiled at him and there it was again. Gut lurch.

Enough with the dog. Time for a little exercise rehabilitation. The door was open. He set Marilyn down, she waggled her butt and staggered toward the door.

Erin made a sharp move to clear a path but then it was her turn to stagger. She wobbled dangerously on her crutches and Dom made a dive. He caught her shoulders. Her crutches clattered to the floor—and he was left holding her.

‘It’s either one or t’other of us,’ she said, sounding suddenly breathless. ‘Me and Marilyn. Your walking wounded.’

‘Or not walking. You want me to carry you to bed?’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘I suspect you know why not,’ she said, with a hint of asperity. ‘You’re too near, you’re too male and you don’t have a wife upstairs as chaperone.’

‘Pity about that.’

‘I’m sure you miss her madly,’ she said, but she didn’t pull away.

‘I don’t need anyone.’ Where had that come from? The situation had been light. Suddenly it was intensely personal.

‘I’m sure you don’t,’ she said softly. ‘Whereas I…I need all sorts of people. So…so when does Tansy come back?’

‘Her daughter had her baby last weekend. Maybe a couple of weeks.’

‘I can’t stay for a couple of weeks.’

‘Of course you can’t.’

‘I should have gone with Charles.’

‘You decided not to.’

‘I did. I wanted to help you.’ She sighed. ‘Fat lot of help I am.’

‘You did help. You are helping.’ His hands stayed on her shoulders. She’d have to pull away if she wanted him to move and she wasn’t pulling. She might even be leaning in.

He tugged her in a little bit further. Nice.

‘Dom, I’m sorry I offloaded onto you,’ she said softly against his chest. ‘It wasn’t fair. You’ve done so much for me, and here I am, keeping you from bed, asking for sympathy when you’ve got so much else on.’

‘I don’t have enough.’

‘What, sympathy?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he said, looking down at her in the moonlight. ‘I suspect sympathy is the least of it.’

‘Me, too,’ she said, unexpectedly—suddenly tentative. ‘There’s not a lot of sympathy happening from where I’m standing. I knew I had to apologise. Now I have. So…so maybe we could move on?’

A thought was occurring. An excellent thought. Maybe shared?

Maybe crazy. Maybe not. Regardless, this was a thought worth airing.

‘So if I were to kiss you…’

And, amazingly, she smiled. And nodded. A decisive little nod. Almost businesslike. ‘It’d probably do us both the world of good. Like a tonic.’

‘A tonic?’ He was losing the thread.

‘Something castor oil-ish. Something to give us both a decent purge. Reassure us we’re okay.’

‘You’re asking me to kiss you or book you in for a colonoscopy?’

‘Take your pick. I’ve imposed on your hospitality. It’s up to you to name the price.’ She grinned and raised her face. She jutted her chin in what he suspected was a gesture of defiance. To whom? To Charles? To her whole history? ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

‘It’s definitely not too much trouble,’ he said faintly—and then stopped speaking.

He had better things to do.

I
T DIDN’T
quite work.

He wasn’t holding her tight enough. She slipped a little as their lips met; his mouth brushed hers, too briefly, and the kiss landed off centre.

She pulled back, just a little. ‘Whoops.’

‘Whoops?’ It wasn’t just his kiss that was off centre.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, then eyed him sideways. ‘I’m sorry. I’m strung up tight as a Stradivarius string.’

‘Stradivarius?’

‘Violin. You don’t play?’

‘No.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘You don’t like violins?’

‘When other people play they’re fine. But my parents dream of me playing when my music talent is more suitable for…I don’t know…bongo drums.’

Funny. Interesting. Excellent dinner-party conversation.

Except they weren’t at a dinner party. They were right here. Right now.

She might seem sure of herself, this woman, but talking violins when there was kissing to be done…that was nerves.

‘Are we getting distracted?’

‘I’m a bit nervous,’ she conceded.

‘Kissing’s much easier than playing a violin,’ he assured her. And before she could think of anything else to say, any other way to distract him—he tugged her tighter. He centred her so this time he couldn’t miss—and he kissed her again.

Better didn’t even begin to describe it. Better, better and better.

You didn’t get to be thirty-five without learning how to kiss, Even though serious relationships weren’t on his agenda, he’d had some very satisfactory frivolous ones—but nothing had prepared him for this. Not for the way she made him feel.

It was like he’d been zapped by an electric charge. If he could see himself in a mirror maybe his hair would be standing on end, he thought with the tiny amount of head room he had available for analysis. Which wasn’t much, and what was available was getting less by the second.

He’d expected a kiss. But this was a…
kiss.

From the moment his mouth met hers, nothing was as it had been. Nothing was as it should be.

What was that word? Discombobulated. He’d never used it.

He needed it now.

For his thoughts were whirling, jumbled, out of kilter. His senses were centred solely on the fire inside, the fire this woman was creating. His brain felt short-circuited, circuits zapped and overlaid by sensations he’d never felt before.

This was a need he didn’t know he had. She was melting into him and he was on fire. She was surrendering herself to him and it was the most exquisite gift…the most life-affirming generosity.

Her beauty stunned him. His hands caressed the small of her back and he thought he’d never known a woman as beautiful. Her breasts were melting against his chest and it was as if she was merging into him. Two bodies becoming one, fused by fire.

Her surrender was total. As his hands moved to her hips and tugged her closer he felt her rise to meet him, standing on tiptoe so her thighs were against his. He was responding with a fire he hadn’t known he possessed.

She was the loveliest thing, the most beautiful woman, and amazingly she was opening herself to him, wanting him with a desperation that belied description.

But…

Desperation.

The word clanged into his head, unwanted, uncalled for, but suddenly there, loud and clear. He had an armful of the most desirable woman in the world but suddenly the instinctive knowledge of her despair was overwhelming.

Once thought, it couldn’t be unthought.

She was letting herself sink into him to prove something to herself that had nothing to do with him.

How he knew it he couldn’t say, but all of a sudden it was fact and the effect turned fire to ice.

How the hell he managed to stop, to pull away, he never knew, but somehow he did. He put her far enough so that he could look down into her eyes and see if the word he’d thought had any reality.

It did. She was gazing up at him, her eyes softly luminous, trying to smile, but there was confusion behind her smile. Her lip looked bruised, he thought. Had he kissed her so hard? She put her hands up to his head to tug him down to her again, but the sight of those bruised lips—of the confusion behind her smile—had him shaking his head.

‘No.’

‘N-no?’ His pause had shaken her. He saw her bewilderment increase, and it was almost his undoing. She was here for the taking. She was a grown woman, a colleague who was surely old enough to know her own mind.

But still that word. Desperation.

‘Erin, why are you doing this?’

‘What…?’

‘I’d take you to my bed in a heartbeat,’ he said softly into her hair. Wanting desperately to increase the hold. ‘But I know you’re in trouble and I’m not sure you’re kissing me for the right reasons.’

It was like tossing cold water over her. She pulled back a little, she gazed up at him for a long, bewildered moment and then slowly she tugged away. He released her with all the regret in the world.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she managed, but he could see that she did.

‘You’re injured,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve come here as my patient…’

‘No.’

‘You came here last night because there was a sign on my front gate that said Doctor. Didn’t you?’

‘Of course I did,’ she managed. ‘But that doesn’t mean—’

‘I think it does mean. You’re hurt. You came here for treatment and for refuge. For me to take advantage…’

‘You’re not taking advantage. Dom, you make me feel…’

‘Yeah, well you make me feel, too,’ he said ruefully. ‘I do nothing but feel when I hold you. When I kiss you. But you’re an emotional mess.’

‘I am not!’ It was said with such indignation that he almost laughed.

‘Okay, you’re not, so blame it on me. I don’t want to feel like you make me feel. It’s not that I’m not flattered…’

‘Flattered,’ she said, astounded.

‘What man wouldn’t be flattered?’

‘So you’re taking what just happened as…a compliment?’ She gazed at him incredulously. ‘You’re not gay, I suppose?’

‘No!’

‘So my pride has to take it on the chin.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with pride.’

‘Oh, yes it does,’ she said bitterly. ‘Here I was practically launching myself into your arms…’

‘I believe I did some of the…launching.’

‘Well, bully for you.’ She sighed, a great gusty sigh that stunned him. She was like a chameleon, changing skins with mood. ‘Okay, maybe it was a bad move.’ She closed her eyes.
Moved on. ‘So let’s forget it ever happened, shall we? You’ll still let me stay for Easter?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘Thank heaven for that. My noble host. Just when I want a hot one.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She managed a smile at that. ‘And now the man apologises…Where were you when I was planning my life? No,’ she said, and put her hands up as if to ward him off. ‘Don’t answer. You were adopting kids, being noble, doing all sorts of stuff I can scarcely dream of.’

‘You rescued Marilyn,’ he reminded her. ‘That has to count as noble.’

‘So I did but it doesn’t put me in your league. Nope. You’re a wonderful man, Dr Spencer, and I admire you immensely. As one doctor to another. And you’re right. We need to keep this professional. So…as patient to her treating doctor…or even as colleague to colleague…I need to go to bed. Goodnight.’

And without another word she turned and limped inside, down the hallway to her makeshift bedroom. Leaving Dom staring through the screen door after her.

Feeling like there was no way in the wide world he could forget the events of this night.

Feeling like his world had changed for ever.

How was a girl supposed to sleep after that? She couldn’t. She lay and stared at the ceiling and thought of all the reasons why she should ring her parents and ask them to come and fetch her.

They would. They were upset with her now but they knew their duty. They’d be appalled by Marilyn but if she insisted, they’d take her. They’d drive her back to their own home on the outskirts of Melbourne.

They’d be dreadfully upset at having their Easter plans
spoiled, but maybe their Easter plans had been spoiled anyway. Maybe Charles had already hinted that Easter was to be the time of the Big Announcement.

And here she was, falling in love with another man.

Falling in love?

That was dumb. Crazy. Dom had pulled away because he’d sensed she’d felt desperate, and maybe he was right. Desperation, confusion, call it what you would.

Confusion. That’s what it was. Because she’d never before felt like she felt when Dom smiled at her. When he’d kissed her it was like her world had blown apart.

It had scared her. Terrified her. She’d felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and about to fall.

Into what? She didn’t know.

Dom didn’t want…permanence. He’d said that loud and clear.

Neither should she. She’d met the guy for the first time less than twenty-four hours ago. It was way, way too soon.

When, then?

When was the first proper time that she could open her eyes and say she’d fallen head over heels in love with Dominic?

How was a man expected to go calmly to sleep? Dom lay in his too-big bed and thought maybe he ought to trade it for a single. Hell, he had no use for a double, much less the king-sized opulence he lay in now.

He’d bought it thinking of Ruby, how early mornings had been a contest to see who could dive into Ruby’s lovely squishy bed first. But he’d never got it right. He might do his damnedest as a foster-dad, but Ruby had something special.

Erin had something special.

She was as confused as he was. His family had been nonexistent, a scattering of dysfunctional people vaguely connected by blood, but nothing else. Erin’s extended family sounded much scarier.

He thought of the battered little boys in his care and he thought of Erin being raised with the ghosts of siblings. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

What would be worse, though, he told himself, would be complicating his life by hitting on her. When he had no intention—no capacity—to take it further.

Why not? A spot of seduction, maybe even progressing to thinking about love?

Love.

For some reason that was what he was thinking—he, who’d never had such a thought before. But he was thinking it. Of loving Erin?

Was he nuts? What would he end up with? A woman torn by guilt, raised to be duty bound to two sets of parents and a man who regarded her as rightfully his.

Did Charles want her as much as he did?

It was a dumb question. The whole situation was impossible.

He’d made a vow, a long time ago, when he’d been used as a bitter connection, a rope in domestic tugs of war where neither his mother nor his string of stepdads had worried that he might snap. Domestic harmony was for others—he wasn’t even going to try.

He’d had the odd relationship—who hadn’t? Until now he’d never wanted to push it an inch further than a casual affair.

So why was Erin different?

Because she was damaged, he told himself fiercely. He saw in her the same need he saw in his boys, maybe even in himself, but need was no basis for a relationship.

She was here as his guest, using him for refuge. Therefore he had to apply the same rules he applied to his boys. All care but no ties, so when they left there was no heartbreak on either side.

And as for the love word…When he’d known her for such a short time…That was being no better than his mother. Love at first sight was a crazy ideal, leading to heartbreak all round.

Right. He had that clear.

Maybe tomorrow he could drive her to her parents’ place himself.

Or not.

Probably not.

She’d offered to help. He needed help. There was a very sensible reason for him to accept her offer.

It was sensible for her to stay.

Yeah, right.

She slept badly, dozing and waking, dozing and waking. Once she heard Dom pad downstairs and let Marilyn out into the garden.

He was a very nice man, she told herself dreamily in her half-sleep. She listened to him leading Marilyn back to her pups, then speak softly. She couldn’t hear, but she was willing to bet there wasn’t any mention of dog pounds.

If she was seriously interested…

Dom with his needy kids…Marilyn and her needy pups…

Dom.

She was seriously interested. Dumb or not.

‘Maybe I need to go to the Antarctic for a year,’ she muttered. ‘I can hone my skills with frostbite and hypothermia, and everyone can need me solely because I wield a great roll of sticky plaster.’

But…how could she go the Antarctic when there was the faintest possibility of a repeat of that kiss?

Dumb or not, she was staying right where she was. For as long as Dom let her.

Easter Saturday.

Dom was coolly pleasant at breakfast. If he could be coolly pleasant, she could too, she decided. He didn’t say anything about leaving, and if he didn’t, neither would she.

Even though he’d told the locals he wasn’t doing calls, he was still the only doctor in the district. Patients arrived with the minor
trauma of a country community. The phone never stopped. She ended up fielding calls—and enjoying it.

‘You’ve had a sore knee for months? Dr Spencer will be happy to see you, but not until Tuesday. He’s busy right now.’

Actually, the doctor was examining puppies when that call came. Dom’s vet-friend, Fiona, had found an excuse to drive over and check for herself that her instructions had been carried out. Dom and the elderly vet were checking each individual pup. Erin had been the one closest to the phone and Dom seemed okay—even grateful—that she answer it. She glanced through to the kitchen as she replaced the receiver. Dom looked a query—doctor examining patients while stretched out on the kitchen floor in front of woodstove He smiled at her. Her heart did a silly backward somersault—and she was suddenly even more determined to stay.

Any more determined they’d soon have to prise her out of here with a chisel, she thought. Superglue had nothing on how she was starting to feel.