A Baby for the Flying Doctor (11 page)

With a quick move, she brought both her hands up between his and pushed them out to the side, effectively breaking his hold
on her. ‘I know what I need to do and I don’t appreciate your attempts to psychoanalyse my emotions away. I’m upset, Gil. Someone I liked, someone I’m proud to call my friend, has just died and you’re wanting me to be rational about this?

‘Well, Professor, let me tell you that sometimes people need to be irrational. They need to do what’s not expected. If I want to wallow, if I want to mope around and cry and be upset for a woman who at the age of twenty-one has had her life ripped from her, then I shall cry and be upset, despite how little I knew her. Our acquaintance may have been short but it was filled with special moments. Quality, not quantity. And she may have been just a patient in the beginning but by the end she was a woman I admired.’

‘Phemie, I—’

She pushed past him and walked to the door, opening it, indicating he should leave. It was necessary that he go. Her yearning for his arms around her, her yearning for him to understand her emotions, her yearning for him to simply be there for her was becoming too much to deal with on top of everything else. She wanted to lean on him, to have him support her, but she also knew if she did that, if he offered that, it would only enhance the growing addiction she felt for him.

‘Look, I understand you’ve had a very rough and long few days.’

‘Yeah.’ She laughed without humour. ‘You’ve got that right, which is why you’re leaving.’

‘I didn’t come here to upset you. I simply wanted to inform you—in person—about—’

‘And I appreciate it. However, I’d also appreciate it if you’d just leave me alone.’

There was a certain look in her eyes as she said the words and Gil realised she wasn’t just talking about the absent-minded way he’d handled himself in the past ten minutes. She was hurt, she was tired and he could see she really did want to be left alone.
Not only that, he understood she also wanted him to keep his distance on a personal level. It was difficult, especially when she was wearing such cute pyjamas, making her look all snuggly and warm. Did she have any idea how alluring she was, how he was having such a difficult time keeping his hands to himself?

She was right, though. He should go. He should leave her alone. He wasn’t quite sure why he continued to seek her out, why he continued to think of her so often, but he would endeavour to do as she now asked.

‘Of course. My sincerest apologies, Euphemia.’

His clipped accented tones washed over her as he once more inclined his head in the polite way she’d come to equate with him before walking calmly through her open doorway. Out in the hallway once more, he turned before she could close the door.

‘I do hope you manage to sleep well,’ he murmured, before walking off towards the lifts and doing what she’d asked all along—leaving her alone.

Phemie was a little on edge the next morning. Although the conference didn’t officially begin until Monday, Sunday had been set aside for conference speakers and presenters to not only get to know each other but also to be first in line to attend the Trade shows which would open later that afternoon to the rest of the conference delegates. As such, it was a full day’s programme which began with a welcome breakfast in one of the smaller, more intimate conference rooms, where she came face to face with Gil.

‘Good morning, Euphemia.’

‘Professor.’ She nodded politely as she scooped some strawberries onto her plate, ignoring the way her heart rate increased its usual rhythm.

‘I trust you were able to sleep well?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

With that, Phemie smiled, even though it didn’t reach her
eyes, and took her plate back to her seat. As she sat down, she made sure she didn’t watch him to see what else he did or who else he spoke to.

‘Do you know Professor Fitzwilliam?’ Another presenter who was sitting at her table asked.

‘Not really.’ Which was true. What did she really know about Gil except that he was a brilliant specialist, was English and had the most hypnotic eyes she’d ever gazed into? The fact that he could set her heart racing with a simple look meant nothing. Or that he could make her knees weaken with the briefest of touches, or that being in the same room as him made her mind turn to mush. No. None of it meant a thing. Keeping her distance, protecting herself was the better thing to focus on.

She had almost finished her breakfast when the conference co-ordinator stood and tapped on the side of his glass for quiet. Soon everyone was paying attention.

‘Welcome, presenters,’ the female co-ordinator began, before launching into a rundown of the day’s activities. ‘First of all, though, I have the honour, nay, the pleasure…’ she looked down at the front table where Gil sat and smiled brightly at him, almost
too
brightly, Phemie thought ‘…of introducing one of the world’s leading experts in emergency medicine.’ She continued by listing a long string of Gil’s qualifications and achievements, before turning the podium over to him.

Amid a round of applause Gil took to the podium, dressed neatly in his three-piece pinstripe suit, where he looked every inch the revered professor he was. Phemie contrasted him to the man she’d met on the train and found they were vastly different. Even the way he spoke was different, his rich warm tones washing over her, his accent far more pronounced then in the quiet moments they’d shared together before Kiefer’s accident.

Why did all of that—the journey on the train—seem so long ago? Why did it feel as though she
had
known Gil for more than a couple of days? Was it because she’d read so many of his
articles she felt as though she really
did
know him? Or was it the frightening natural chemistry that seemed to exist between them?

Gil calmly scanned the room as he spoke. A smattering of laughter broke out and it was then Phemie realised she’d missed whatever little anecdote he’d just related. When his gaze settled on her she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Even across the room, it was as though his brown eyes devoured her and her breathing rapidly increased.

It was only a moment, just a brief flash of time, yet once again she felt completely encompassed by him. It was as though he’d been quietly searching the crowded room for her and her alone. Now that he’d found her, he couldn’t be bothered paying anyone else attention.

Phemie looked down. Breaking the contact. Unable to endure the intense moment any longer. She forced herself to pick up her toast, to take a bite, to do something—anything—to get her mind off the man at the front of the room. When she realised her hand was trembling, she immediately put the toast back and clasped her hands in her lap, squeezing them together so tightly she thought she might snap a bone.

She wasn’t able to look at Gil for the rest of his speech and at the first available opportunity she politely excused herself and made her way to the ladies room. Her heart was still pounding, her hands were still trembling and when she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, she was astonished at how wild and bright her eyes appeared.

Her blonde hair was pulled back into a chignon, she was wearing a navy skirt, white shirt and matching navy jacket. She looked every inch the professional yet she felt far from it. One look from Gil and she’d ended up a mass of schoolgirl tingles, unable to control her own body’s reaction.

Deciding it was best to simply skip the rest of the welcome breakfast and return to her room until it was time for the trade
show, Phemie exited the ladies room and headed for the bank of elevators. She didn’t look back but instead focused on her escape from a man she simply couldn’t stop thinking about.

When was she going to find some self-control? Relationships weren’t for her. She knew that and it was a decision she herself had made years ago. Letting the way Gil made her feel rule her life would only mean she’d not only end up alone but miserable as well. If only he wasn’t so attractive, so endearing, so…on her wavelength.

He was a doctor, which meant he understood the working hours she had to endure, he was great with his patients and most of all he’d been incredible with Anthony. She often judged people on how they treated her brother, especially given most new acquaintances were a little taken aback when they found out Anthony had a disability. Gil, however, had treated Anthony like a long-lost friend and the picture of the two of them sitting at the table on the train, laughing together, brought an instant smile to her face.

These facts only made Gil more dangerous, only made it even more necessary for her to avoid him wherever possible, especially during the next couple of days. When he returned with her to the Didja base, she would keep her distance and play the polite host to perfection. Gil might even want to go and spend a few days working with her good friend Dex. That would mean less time she had to tiptoe around the issue that she wanted nothing more than to hold him close and never let him go.

At that thought alone, Phemie closed her eyes, not wanting to think about him any more, about how he was affecting her and also about just how deep her feelings for him seemed to be developing. Even if she did,
could,
admit to herself that Gil might turn out to be someone special, someone she really wanted to spend time with, there was also the added complication of geography.

No. There wasn’t any way that any sort of real relationship could prosper.

A
T THE
end of the day, Phemie flicked off her shoes and slumped down on to the bed, rubbing her feet. She was not used to wearing high heels and her toes were now starting to complain. She changed into more comfortable clothes, jeans and a burgundy knit top, before picking up the TV remote and lounging on the bed, luxuriating in the soft furnishings which she definitely didn’t have back on the RFDS base.

The phone rang and she quickly switched the set off before answering the call. ‘Dr Grainger.’ Only after she’d picked up the receiver did she think it might be Gil, and a wild flutter filled her stomach whilst at the same time she dreaded knowing what she ought to say to him.

‘Oh, yes…um…’ The voice was female and hesitant. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor. I’m, uh…Carren Milton. Mary’s mother.’ Phemie gasped, pain rushing through her again, but she pushed it aside, knowing she needed to be strong, to pass on the information Mary had wanted her parents to know. ‘Mrs Milton. Thank you for calling me.’

‘I understand you were with Mary at the…the—’

‘I was,’ Phemie interrupted. ‘She asked me to call you.’

‘Oh.’ Mrs Milton was close to tears and Phemie was having a difficult time controlling her own.

‘She wanted me to tell you about my brother, Anthony.’

When the phone call ended, Phemie felt better about Mary and she started to feel the faint stirrings of peace. She looked around the small, impersonal hotel room and shook her head.

‘No.’ The walls felt as though they were about to close in. She was a woman who was used to wide open spaces and at the moment, feeling a little unnerved, she needed somewhere more open than this. Slipping on a pair of flat shoes and grabbing her room key, she headed down to the lobby.

‘Better,’ she murmured as she found an empty wing-backed chair in the hotel’s French-themed café-bar. A waiter came over but she told him she wasn’t ready to order anything just yet. He left her alone and she closed her eyes, finally starting to relax.

‘Hello.’

At the rich, deep tones she recognised all too well, she opened her eyes and looked up to find Gil standing opposite her.

‘Professor.’ She tried to make her tone sound more tired as she shifted in the chair. ‘I hope you haven’t come to deliver more bad news?’

‘Er…no.’

Phemie couldn’t help allowing her gaze to wander over him and it was difficult not to be affected by his more casual attire of jeans and jumper—not that he didn’t look incredibly handsome in a suit. He most certainly did but before her was the man she’d come to know on the train, rather than the medical genius. That thought alone relaxed her a little bit…but only a little. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’

‘I do believe we had a date to have tea together.’

Phemie stared at him for a moment, her fuzzy mind trying to comprehend his words. ‘Oh, tea—drinking tea rather than eating tea. Yes. Oh, I’m sorry, Gil. I’d completely forgotten.’ Her annoyance with him started to dissipate. Maybe it was his casual attire, maybe it was the calm look in his gorgeous eyes, maybe it was that she was just too tired to be defensive. ‘I was going to
find a tea house and I—’ She stopped, sighing and pushing her hand through her loose blonde locks. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re exhausted.’ She may not have invited him to sit down but at least she was back to calling him by his first name. He decided to take a chance and force his hand by sitting in the chair opposite. When she made no comment, he signalled the waiter.

‘Two teas, please,’ he ordered. The waiter nodded and went to walk away but Gil hadn’t finished. ‘I’d like Australian tea if you have it. Something rich in body and full in flavour, and if it’s at all possible to get it in a pot with some proper bone china cups, I’d thoroughly appreciate it.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, sir,’ the waiter replied, before leaving them.

When he looked over at Phemie, she was smiling and slowly shaking her head. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked.

‘You’re so…English,’ she said with a chuckle, and he joined in.

‘Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.’ He didn’t care where they went to have a cup of tea together, at least he was finally going to get some one-on-one time with the woman who seemed to have invaded his thoughts. The area in which they sat wasn’t overly crowded and he was pleased. He’d been in two minds whether to come and see her this evening, to force her hand in remembering their date, especially after what had happened last night and earlier this morning at the breakfast. It was clear she was tired but he really wanted to spend time with her, and after telling William he wasn’t available for any tête-a-têtes this evening, he’d headed quietly from his suite and made his way to the lobby, surprised to have found her there.

While they waited for their drinks, they chatted about the conference sessions and she praised him for his speech, even though she hadn’t really been paying attention to most of it, given she’d been too distracted by him.

‘You mentioned when we first met that you would like me to
have a look at your presentation. Is that still the case?’ Gil asked after their tea had been delivered. He allowed it to brew before pouring two cups.

‘I would but I don’t—’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘You no doubt have better things to do. Besides, if you gave private lessons to every delegate, we’d never get through the conference!’

‘Let me worry about my workload and you are not “every delegate”, Phemie.’ He looked into his cup for a moment before meeting her eyes. ‘You’re a friend.’

‘Am I?’ Phemie picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, needing to do something other than gaze into his eyes and lose all rational thought. She leaned her head into the side of the chair and closed her eyes, a furrow marring her brow. ‘I’m so confused.’

‘Mmm.’ He couldn’t agree more but decided not to voice his thoughts. It was true that he regarded her as a friend, as someone he wanted to care for, to spend time with, but confessing more than that wouldn’t be wise, he felt.

She opened her eyes and stared at him. ‘We hardly know each other, Gil.’

‘Are we not trying to rectify that? We’re sitting here, drinking tea and talking, finding out more about what makes the other one tick.’ He sat forward in the chair and looked at her. ‘I like hot Indian curries and the take-away shop makes them much better than I ever could. However, I prefer to cook my own roast dinner.’

‘You cook?’

‘I do and very well, thank you very much. What else can I tell you about me?’ He thought for a second before a glint touched his eyes. ‘I drive an old jalopy which was the very first car I bought when I was seventeen. I’ve lovingly restored it and enjoy keeping it in tip-top shape.’ It was also the one place he’d found a bit of peace and happiness after the tragedy that robbed
him of his family. He paused and sipped his tea, a far-off look in his eyes.

‘You’ve missed your car?’ Phemie’s smile was one of surprise that Gil was displaying an emotional connection to an inanimate object. It was right. It grounded him. Made him seem more…normal.

He smiled longingly. ‘I have. It’s about all I’m looking forward to when I return to England.’

‘Really? Your car? You can’t do any better than that? Can’t think of any other reasons why you want to go home after a year of travelling the globe?’ She knew he was no doubt joking yet when she looked into his eyes it was to find them filled with sadness and regret.

‘No.’

Phemie watched, waiting for him to expand his answer, but he remained silent. She put her cup down as her heart went out to him. ‘Oh, Gil. Really? No family? Friends? Surely you have a great job waiting for you?’

‘Not really. And friends…’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve made some great friends whilst travelling.’

‘Like William?’

His smile was instant but it was nowhere near as bright or as relaxed as before. ‘William and I have become friends, yes. It’s difficult not to when spending so much time working together. That goes for the rest of the people who have assisted me on this fellowship.’ He shook his head. ‘In some ways it feels like yesterday the fellowship began but most of the time it feels like I’ve been travelling for ever.’

‘Were you stuck in a rut? Is that why you decided on the fellowship?’ Phemie put her hand up to stop him. ‘Sorry. That was a little personal. You don’t have to answer that. It was ru—’

‘My wife died.’ The words were out before he could stop them. He didn’t talk to just anyone about his past yet somehow he had the instinctive feeling that Phemie was the right person.
Ever since they’d met he’d felt such a natural yet deep connection with her. He’d read sadness in her eyes as well as struggle and hardship. Knowing she had a brother with a disability also meant her life had been filled with compromises…just as his had been.

Phemie gasped and put her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, no, Gil.’

‘She died four years ago in a plane crash. It was one of those random things that happen. She was returning from Italy, after seeing her family, and the plane just…’ Gil trailed off, his words spoken very matter-of-factly. It was as though if he put emotion into the words, it would make it more real. Instead, he related the information like a medical professional in order to distance himself from the pain. ‘She died instantly, at least that’s what they told me.’ That had brought him little comfort because he could well imagine the panic she must have felt prior to the impact. It was also the reason he loathed flying. It was one of the hurdles he’d had to overcome when he’d accepted the fellowship and even though he’d been successful, he still preferred an alternative if possible. Hence he’d chosen to travel from Perth to Sydney via train.

Slowly, Phemie shook her head. ‘Gil. No wonder you wanted to get away, to do the fellowship. How did you survive those initial years?’

‘Work. Locked myself in and threw away the key. I started to realise it was time I reconnected properly with the human race and I couldn’t do that trapped in an office behind a desk, researching and writing articles.’

‘Ah.’ Dawning realisation crossed Phemie’s face. ‘That’s why you’ve been so prolific.’

‘Exactly. Although I have to say that writing all those articles made it easier for me to not only secure the fellowship, it’s also helped introduce me to a lot of very interesting people.’ He looked pointedly at her and she smiled. ‘People who I bump into on…oh, let’s say trains, and they instantly recognise me.’

Phemie’s smile increased and she shrugged. ‘They were good articles. You have a natural flair for the written word and you explain new techniques with ease.’

‘Says the woman who has such an impressive list of credentials she could be running a busy city hospital’s A and E department yet is stationed with the RFDS in the Australian outback.’ The look he gave her was one of admiration.

She started to defend her decision to move, not wanting him to know she’d gone to the outback as a way of trying desperately to find herself. She’d all but forced herself out of her very comfortable comfort zone and Didja was where she’d ended up. ‘They need the help and it’s difficult to get doctors in remote—Wait.’ Realisation crossed her face. ‘What do you mean “impressive list of credentials”? How do you know about my qualifications?’

Gil looked at his cup for a second before meeting Phemie’s gaze. ‘I…uh…have dossiers on all the conference presenters.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. It’s supposed to be a way of letting me know more about you so that when we meet and chat, I’m not completely in the dark. I guess, in a way, it makes me look good because everyone thinks I know what’s going on.’

‘And do you?’

He chuckled but there wasn’t a lot of humour in it. In that instant Phemie had the inkling that he was more than done with this travelling fellowship. Too many countries, too many speeches, too many doctors to compliment and encourage. ‘Not really.’

Gil put his cup down and leaned forward in his chair. ‘I have to confess, though, that when I first received the dossiers, I sifted through them until I found yours.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘I just wanted to know more about you.’

‘You did?’ Her eyes widened at this and Gil stood, shifting his chair closer to hers.

‘I’ve wanted to know more about you since the moment I bumped into you on the train.’ The memory of her body close to his as people had passed them in those very narrow corridors came instantly to mind and a powerful heat spread through him.

‘Oh.’ She seemed to be saying that a lot tonight but she simply couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t only his declaration she was dealing with but the fact that he’d moved closer. Now his scent was winding itself around her, making her forget everything except the way he made her feel when he was close enough to touch. Heat was radiating out from his thigh, which wasn’t too far from her leg, and she immediately shifted, crossing her legs beneath her and trying to edge back into the far corner of the huge chair.

‘You’ve intrigued me from the first moment I met you, Euphemia Grainger.’ His gaze was firm on hers as he leaned a little closer.

‘Uh…hmm.’ She kept her eyes trained on the top of his opennecked polo shirt, finding it increasingly difficult to meet his gaze. In the past few days his eyes had managed to have a hypnotic effect on her and right now, here, in this secluded corner of the hotel’s café-bar, the two of them alone, she needed to hold onto every shred of sanity she could muster. ‘Uh…and what have you…er…you know…discovered?’

‘About you?’

‘Yes.’

‘For a start, you’re one smart lady.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’ She swallowed, the tension within her mounting because she
felt
rather than
knew
something big was about to happen.

‘Today’s proceedings were all about the presenters having the opportunity to get to know each other and their keynote speaker before the conference really begins tomorrow.’ His words were even, spoken in his normal tone, yet there was a definite undercurrent in the deep, resonant sound. ‘I’ve had a day of talking, of relating, of smiling and making inconsequential remarks.’

‘Mmm-hmm.’ Phemie was watching his lips as he spoke, the tension in her still continuing to climb.