Vet's Desire (8 page)

Your
kitten.
Cindy couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. It
felt so good.
My kitten.
Yes, the little scrap was all hers,
and it was up to her to see that he lived.

The door in the
back of the consult room opened and Tim came in carrying the cat
carrier basket in one hand and a small bag in the other. “’Morning,
Cindy.” His gaze went from the top of her head and swept downwards,
a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Cindy smiled
back at him. “You look a little tired.”

“Tough Stuff
here kept waking me up.” Tim placed the basket on the examination
table. “He drinks like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Thirsty?”
Eagerly she watched as he opened the lid and reached in under the
blanket, withdrawing his hand with a squalling kitten gently, but
firmly, held in his grasp.

Handing it to
her, Tim smiled as she snuggled it against her cheek and the kitten
turned and bunted its little nose along her skin. “He’s a hungry
boy. But you need to be careful not to over feed him or he could
end up with diarrhoea.”

Nuzzling the
top of the kitten’s head, she looked at Tim. “How often do I feed
him, and how much?”

Reaching into
the bag, Tim drew out a small glass bottle and a teat. “I’ve marked
on the side of the bottle for you. If there’s any left, you can pop
it into the ‘fridge and warm it up for his next feed. For now, I’ve
been feeding him every hour, but I reckon by tomorrow you can
stretch that to two hourly.”

“Last night you
mentioned making him pee?”

“Yep. You’ll
need a warm, damp, soft cloth.” He showed her what to do and the
kitten rewarded him by squalling, stretching out his little legs
and producing a warm trickle.

Cindy couldn’t
help but laugh.

“Trust me,” Tim
said dryly, “At three in the morning, this stops being a laughing
matter.”

“I’m sure.”
Cindy took the bottle that Tim handed to her once he’d finished
toileting the kitten.

“Hold this to
his mouth,” Tim instructed.

Within seconds
the kitten was blissfully sucking on the bottle, little paws
stretched straight out in front of him.

Taking a deep
breath, Cindy inhaled the scent of milk, kitten, and Tim’s cologne.
It was such a nice mix.

“Now,” he
continued. “The warming pad is electric, so just plug it into the
power at home. It can’t burn him, it’s not set high enough, but it
will keep him warm. Don’t put him in direct line of air
conditioning, and just check him now and again to ensure he’s
warm.”

“How will I
tell if something is wrong?”

“He’ll go very
quiet, he’ll stop drinking or moving. If he’s unable to urinate,
bring him in and one of us will see him straight away.”

Looking after
this little boy was going to be a bit more involved than she’d
first thought.

“Cindy?” Tim
studied her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely,”
she replied, and meant it. “He’s going to take a bit of work, but
it’s going to be…I can’t think how to describe it.”

“Basically,
you’re going to be his mother.”

“Thank God the
poor little scrap doesn’t take after me!”

“Oh, I don’t
know. You’re pretty easy on the eyes.”

Surprised,
Cindy glanced up to find Tim gazing directly at her, but as soon as
she met his gaze he dropped it to the kitten as he reached out once
more and gave it a little rub on the head. “Well, that’s about it
for now.” He was all business suddenly, straightening and taking
the kitten from her to settle him in the carrier. “The formula is
in the bag, as is the instructions on how to make it up. Any
queries, don’t hesitate to phone.”

“Okay.” She
picked up the carrier.

“Oh. I forgot.
Who are you doing?”

Cindy went
blank. “What?”

“I mean, who is
doing you?”

“
Doing
me?” What the heck was he asking?

Thrusting a
hand through his hair, Tim took a deep breath. “Sorry. Got a bit
tongue-tied there. I mean, who was doing - looking after - your cat
before? Your old cat?”

“Oh.” Cripes,
the man was actually a little red-cheeked. Surely Tim Clarke, the
playboy vet, wasn’t embarrassed? “I was going to Bellacross
Vet.”

“Right. Did you
want to take him there?”

“The
kitten?”

“Yes.”

Cindy thought
for a few seconds, her gaze sweeping over Tim, remembering his
gentleness with the kitten, how he’d actually said he was pleased
she’d phoned him. In fact, phoning her own vet hadn’t even crossed
her mind when she and Marty had found the kittens. The first thing
she’d done was phone the clinic where Tim worked, and when there
was only an answering service, she’d rung Tim. He’d come through
for her, so that pretty much answered the question as far as she
was concerned. That and the fact that he seemed genuinely fond of
the kitten and had helped it live through the night.

“Actually,” she
replied quietly, “I’ll bring him here, if that’s okay.”

Was it her
imagination, or did his eyes soften just a little?

“Good.” Tim
nodded. “Glad to have you on board.”

“Glad to be
here, Cap’n.” She saluted him briskly.

Grinning in
amusement, Tim came around the table, picked up the cat carrier and
placed his hand in the small of her back. “Time to pull up anchor,
mate. I have pirates filling the deck.”

“Oh, I’m so
sorry.” Remembering the time, Cindy picked up the bag containing
the bottle, teat, formula and instructions. “I’ve taken up too much
of your time and-”

“Cindy, taking
care of orphans and injured or sick animals is never taking up
valuable time.” Tim looked down at her. “I’m here if you need
me.”

His brown eyes
were warm and his hand in the small of her back flexed slightly.
His cologne, faint and clean, tantalized her nostrils, and his
nearness made her acutely conscious of just how close they were
standing.

Feeling her
knees go just a little weak, she had to sternly remind herself that
this was the playboy vet, the charmer, the man who chased and
boinked women as though it was his personal hobby.

Hell, maybe it
was his personal hobby, what did she know?

However, she
wasn’t on his hobby list, this was her new kitten’s vet, and she
had no business imagining things or going weak at the knees at a
little show of caring on his part.

Reaching for
the door, Cindy swung it open and smiled up at him. “Thank you,
Tim, I’ll remember that.” She walked ahead of him into the waiting
room.

“I hope so,” he
muttered.

“Pardon?” She
turned to look up at him.

“Hmm? Oh, just
thinking aloud.” He handed her the carrier. “Let me know how
everything goes, and remember, I’m here for you.” He tacked on
hurriedly, “
We’re
here for you.”

Just what was
going through his mind? Not sure what to think, she went up to the
reception desk and looked at the vet nurse. “How much do I
owe?”

“Nothing.” The
vet nurse smiled. “We don’t charge the first consult to people who
take on orphaned animals.”

“Really?” Cindy
was surprised. “But what about the call-out last night?”

The vet nurse
shook her head. “Nope. Call-outs for abandoned animals, hurt or too
young to fend for themselves, aren’t charged.”

“But the milk
and stuff?”

“We’re not a
charity, but we respect people who try to do the right thing.” The
vet nurse smiled at the cat carrier in Cindy’s hand. “Just enjoy
your baby. Will we see you again?”

“Not unless
something goes wrong.” Cindy bit her lip at the thought.

“Well, that
too, but I meant for vaccinations and things?”

“Oh, of course.
This is our vet now.”

“Great. Welcome
aboard.” The nurse plucked out a toy mouse from the container at
the counter, a business card from the plastic holder, and popped
both into the bag Cindy held. “I’m Lara, one of the nurses here. If
you go to our website, you can check out the rest of the staff, our
hours, and the services we provide.”

“You have a
website?”

“Sign of the
times, Ms Lawson. Everything is technology.”

“Please, call
me Cindy.”

“Cindy it
is.”

Seeing more
people coming through the door, Cindy bid Lara farewell and took
the kitten out to the car. After making sure the cat carrier was
secure on the passenger seat, she clipped on her seatbelt and
started the car.

For several
seconds she sat there, studying the vet clinic in her rear-view
mirror, a small smile crossing her lips. The clinic felt homely,
the staff seemed caring, and Tim had looked after her furry baby.
Somehow, she just knew she’d made the right decision in choosing
Tim.

She blinked at
the thought and amended quickly, “I mean choosing the
clinic
.” She nodded decisively. “Yes, definitely, I chose
the right
clinic
.”

Glancing around
quickly to make sure no one had noticed her talking to herself, she
checked for traffic and pulled out of the parking bay, taking her
kitten home.

~*~

One brisk knock
at the door and Tim rocked back and forwards on his heels, hands
thrust into his pockets. When there was no answer straight away, he
knocked once more.

Where was Rick?
His car was here, Cherry’s car was here, why didn’t they- uh oh. A
sudden thought struck him and he stopped rocking on his heels.
Maybe Rick was having a little early evening delight. A roll with
his honey.

Oops. Taking a
step back, Tim eyed the door. That had to be the only explanation
for it. He’d better return later. He should have phoned first.

He’d just taken
another step back when the door opened and his friend stood there
with flour on his nose.

“Sorry,” Rick
said. “I was in the middle of making a cake.”

“Making a
cake?” Tim stared at him.

“Well, Cherry
promised me chocolate cake, but she’s tired from a hard day at the
hospital, so I volunteered to do it.” Rick grinned. “I had to
finish beating the mix.” Turning around, he added, “Come in.”

Tim followed
him down the hallway and into the kitchen. The bowl of cake batter
stood on the bench and he stuck his finger in to taste the mix.
Sucking the rich concoction off his finger, he nodded admiringly.
“Martha, you have done a good job.”

Rick rapped him
smartly on the knuckles with a wooden spoon. “Get your germy paws
out of my cake mix.”

“Is that a
nasty reference to my vocation?”

“No nastier
than the t-shirts you insist on parading around.”

Tim smoothed
his hand over his shirt. “It happens to be a very suave quote.”

“‘
Not
Neutered - The Two That Got Away’
. Oh yes, very suave. Has the
ladies panting after you, does it?”

“Let’s them
know I’m in good working order, ready to pleasure myself.”

In the act of
pouring the batter into a cake tin, Rick stopped and stared at
him.

Tim quickly
amended, “I mean to use
them
for
my
pleasure.”

“Okaaaaay.”

“I’ve been
getting my words mixed up lately.” Reaching for the now empty bowl
and a spoon, Tim proceeded to scrape the batter off the sides and
eat it.

“Yeah, you’d
want to be careful what you say to people.”

“Especially
when you ask a lady who she’s doing.”

“You did that?”
Rick slid the cake tin into the pre-heated oven.

“Then when I
tried to correct myself, I asked her who was doing her.”

“I bet that
went down well.”

Tim licked the
spoon and smacked his lips. “I only meant to ask what vet did she
go to.”

“Did you get an
answer or a slap in the lug?”

“I got a
stunned expression.”

“Answer
enough.”

Tim watched
Rick wash the beaters, measuring cup and weighing bowl. “She
finally told me, though.”

“Who was doing
her? Or who she was doing?” Rick gave a snort of laughter.

“Har-de-har.
Who her vet was, smart-arse.”

“Maybe she saw
your shirt and got scared.”

“For your
information, she decided to continue coming to me.”

“You?” Rick
took the bowl and spoon from Tim.

“I mean, our
clinic.”

“Boy, you’ve
got it bad.”

“I haven’t got
anything bad.” Tim looked closely at Rick. “What have I got
bad?”

“Being
tongue-tied around a lady. That’s not like you.”

Tim
frowned.

Rick swung back
from the sink to stare at him in glee. “That’s why you’ve come
here!”

“What?”

“To
talk
!” Rick grinned widely. “To have a chat - and cake in
the oven, no less. Stay put, I’ll make us a nice cuppa and we can
chat
!”

“You are such
an arse.” Tim glared at him. “I didn’t come to chat about
Cindy.”

“Cindy?” Rick’s
mouth fell open. “Maddy’s best friend, Cindy?”

“Uh…” Tim
silently cursed himself. Cripes, he hadn’t meant to blurt out her
name.

“You got
tongue-tied around Cindy?” Throwing the dish towel on the sink,
Rick pulled a Coke from the ‘fridge and popped the tab. “Tell me
all about it.”

“Nothing to
tell.” Scowling at the Coke that Rick placed before him, Tim picked
it up and walked to the kitchen table. Dropping down into a chair,
he took a deep swallow.

“Sure there
is.” Popping the tab of another can of Coke, Rick took the opposite
chair and sat on it facing backwards, leaning his forearms on the
top of the back rest and dangling the Coke can from the fingers of
one hand. “Tell me what’s troubling you sweetheart.”

That was
usually his sarcastic line, damn it. “I don’t know why the hell
Cherry married you.”

“Don’t change
the subject.”

Tim shook his
head. “Nothing to tell.”