Sydney Harbour Hospital: Lexi's Secret (13 page)

BOOK: Sydney Harbour Hospital: Lexi's Secret
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The skin prickled along her arms as she heard the sound of voices out in the corridor. Sam was speaking to one of the nurses, ordering some bloods and scans for another patient. Lexi would recognise that deep, mellifluous voice anywhere.

‘Are you OK, Lexi?’ Bella asked.

Lexi painted a bright smile on her face as she turned around with the vase of flowers in her hands. ‘I’m going to change the water on these flowers,’ she said.

Bella frowned. ‘But one of the volunteer ladies already did it this morning.’

‘It won’t hurt to do it again,’ Lexi said. ‘I might even get you some new ones from the hospital florist. These are just about past it.’ She dashed out of the room and without even giving the nurses’ station a glance slipped into the utilities room further down the corridor.

‘Your oxygen levels have improved a bit, Bella,’ Sam said as he read through her chart. ‘The infection seems to have more or less cleared. I’d like you to stay in over the weekend just to make sure things have settled. If everything’s fine you can go home on Monday, but you must take things easy. We’ll have you on permanent standby in case a donor comes up. Has the transplant co-ordinator talked to you about the routine?’

Bella nodded. ‘I have to have a mobile phone with me at all times in case there’s a match, and a bag packed for the hospital.’

‘Good.’ Sam clipped the chart back on the end of the bed. ‘Who will be looking after you at home?’

‘Um … Lexi mostly,’ she said.

Sam felt a frown tug at his forehead. ‘You don’t have a nurse to come in or a regular physiotherapist?’

‘Yes, but Lexi’s the one who takes me to all my appointments and helps me get dressed if I’m too breathless.’

Sam thought of Lexi juggling the demands of her job as well as the substantial care of her frail sister. It was another reminder to him of how she hid behind the shallow socialite facade when it suited her. But did she ever get noticed for the personal sacrifices she made? How could she if it drew attention to how much Bella relied on her? It would make Bella feel like an encumbrance,
and he suspected that was something Lexi would want to avoid, given no one knew how long Bella would be with them. ‘I’ll have a word with the nurse about a follow-up appointment in my rooms,’ he said. ‘I’d like to keep a close eye on things just to be sure that infection doesn’t come back.’

‘Thank you, Mr Bailey,’ Bella said shyly.

Sam gave her a brief smile and left to write up the last of his notes in the nurses’ station. On his way out of the ward he ran into Evie, who was presumably on her way to visit Bella.

‘Sam, can I have a quick word?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘How about in here?’ He gestured to a small waiting area that was currently empty.

‘It’s about my sister,’ Evie began as soon as they were alone.

‘I’m discharging her on Monday,’ Sam said.

‘Not that sister,’ Evie said with a direct look. ‘I meant Lexi.’

Sam drew in a measured breath. ‘I see.’

‘Actually, I don’t think you do see,’ Evie said, shooting him a look. ‘Lexi’s in a good place right now. She’s getting married in a matter of weeks. She doesn’t need the complication of an ex turning up and distracting her.’

Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Distracting her?’

Evie narrowed her gaze at him. ‘I think you know what I mean.’

‘Lexi’s an adult,’ he said. ‘She’s entitled to do what she wants.’

Evie’s hazel eyes were brittle as they stared into his. ‘She doesn’t know what she wants,’ she said. ‘That’s half the problem.’

‘Then she should be left to decide without the influence of others,’ Sam said coolly.

‘You don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Lexi had a really rough time after you left. I was very worried about her. I’m sure she didn’t tell me even half of what was going on. She didn’t tell anyone.’

Sam felt something in his stomach turn over suddenly. ‘What do you mean?’

Evie pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth before she answered. ‘She was so … different after you left. She was flat, depressed even. She closed off from everybody. It was like a wall was around her. No one could get to her and she wouldn’t allow anyone in. It’s only been since she’s been involved with Matthew that she’s started to blossom again.’

‘I’m not sure what this has to do with me,’ Sam said.

Evie glared at him. ‘It has
everything
to do with you. People are starting to talk about you both. They think something’s going on between you two. Something serious.’

‘Perhaps you’ve misheard the gossip,’ he said. ‘The rumours that are circulating are about you and Finn, not me and Lexi.’

A rosy flush stained Evie’s cheeks. ‘That’s complete and utter rubbish!’

Sam cocked his eyebrow again. ‘Is it?’

Evie folded her arms across her body, just like her baby sister did when she felt threatened, Sam noted. ‘I saw Lexi’s face the other day,’ she said accusingly. ‘She had beard rash.’

Sam kept his face blank. ‘So?’

‘So?’ Evie fumed. ‘You have no right to kiss her! She’s engaged to another man.’

‘I wouldn’t kiss any woman who wasn’t an active participant,’ he said with deadly calm.

Evie’s eyes flared with anger. ‘So you’re saying she actively encouraged you? That’s an outright lie! She’s not a slut, far from it. In fact, I suspect you were her first lover. Did you know that at the time? I bet that’s why you targeted her. Quite a notch on your belt, wasn’t it? The youngest Lockheart sister. What a trophy to flash around.’

Sam tightened his mouth. ‘I think you should concentrate on your own life and let your sister get on with hers.’

‘You’re not good for her, Sam,’ Evie said. ‘You unsettle her. She deserves to be happy. She deserves someone who’ll love her, not use her as a stepping stone to get where he wants to go.’

‘Is that what you think this is about?’ Sam asked, frowning.

‘What else could it be?’ she asked. ‘You don’t love her, do you? If you loved her you wouldn’t have let anyone stop you from seeing her. You would’ve fought for her no matter what it cost you personally or professionally.’

Sam gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. ‘I don’t love anyone like that,’ he said.

Evie gave him a pitying look. ‘Then maybe you should learn.’ And with that she was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

F
OR
the last couple of weeks Lexi had more or less managed to avoid any lengthy contact with her father. She had worked late and then gone to the gym in the evenings, barely exchanging more than a few desultory words with him before she went to bed at night or left for work in the morning. But on the weekend before the ball she knew it would be harder to keep out of his way unless she had a plan to keep away from the family mansion for most of the time.

She had a dress fitting in the city at ten and rather than drive and struggle with finding somewhere to park she decided to catch a ferry across the harbour. It was one of those perfect Sydney spring days: warm and sunny, with a light breeze with a smell of summer to it. The harbour was dotted with yachts making the most of the wonderful weekend weather. Lexi wondered if Sam was out there somewhere, carving through the sparkling water, but she didn’t see any vessel called
Whispering Waves
, even though she looked long and hard.

After the fitting Lexi did a bit of shopping, more than a bit, she thought a little ruefully as she juggled the bags of lingerie, clothes, shoes and make-up in both hands as she made her way back to Circular Quay for the ferry late in the afternoon. Rather than go straight home she
wandered for a while along the Neutral Bay marina, looking at the million-dollar yachts moored there. There were a couple of yachties about doing maintenance, the smell of fresh paint in the air. The distinctive clanging sound of the rigging knocking against the masts in the breeze made her think of how wonderful it would be to just hop on a boat and sail away into the sunset, away from all of life’s complexities. She wondered if that was what Sam did to relax after complicated surgery. She could picture him standing at the helm, his strong, tanned arms hauling sails and spinnakers up and down, enjoying the challenge of conquering the powerful and sometimes unpredictable conditions.

At the far end of the marina Lexi saw a white yacht with dark blue lines painted on the sides and in simple cursive the name
Whispering Waves
. There was no sign of anyone about so she walked closer. It was a beautiful vessel, not top-end luxury but close to it. It was at least forty feet long and well maintained, the paintwork looked fresh and the decks were varnished a rich jarrah red.

Lexi checked if anyone was watching before she climbed aboard, her shopping making the task a little more difficult for her, but somehow she managed to get on deck in one piece with all her shopping still safe. She had a quick look around; rationalising that it was her duty as Head of Events to ensure the yacht was suitable for a party of eight for lunch.

To her surprise the door to below deck was unlocked. She had a little battle with her conscience as she thought about having a quick peek around. It was trespassing, she knew that. But then she knew Sam. That kind of made a difference, didn’t it? Anyway, she’d only take
a minute to two. He would never even know she had been on board.

She strained her ears for any sound below, and once she was certain all was clear, she went down the steps to look inside. It was so much more spacious than she had imagined. There was a kitchen with all the latest appliances off the lounge and dining area. There was plenty of storage along the sides of the living area and a bar with a drinks fridge set in next to a sound system. There was a bathroom and toilet complete with shower and vanity. She opened another door and found the master bedroom with its own en suite. The bed was made up with white linen with a black trim, and black and white patterned scatter cushions were placed neatly in front of the large soft pillows.

Lexi was about to test the bed when she heard a footfall on the deck above. Her heart gave a little flutter as she considered her options.

Come out or hide.

How was she going to explain being in his bedroom? Why, oh, why hadn’t she thought about the possibility of him returning? He had probably only stepped off the yacht for a few minutes. It was going to take quite some talking to get herself out of this sticky situation. She could just imagine the conclusions he would jump to. There was only one thing to do …

She chose to hide.

There was a row of tall cupboards on one side of the master bedroom. The first one she opened was filled with drawers that weren’t big enough to hide her things so she quickly opened the next one. She stuffed her shopping bags below some of Sam’s wet-weather gear, closing the door as softly as she could. Her heart was still galloping as she opened another closet. It had more hanging space and was just big enough for her to
squeeze in amongst Sam’s casual shirts. But while it was an excellent hiding place, she decided against closing the door completely as the lock was a one-way affair. While she wouldn’t go as far as describing herself as claustrophobic, the thought of spending the next hour or two—or longer—locked inside a dark cupboard didn’t hold much appeal, so instead she hooked the tip of her index finger around the edge to keep the door ajar.

Lexi heard Sam move about above deck. She pictured him doing maintenance like the other men she’d seen. Scrubbing the decks or fixing the stay ropes or some such thing. He probably wouldn’t stay long. It was coming on for six p.m. He’d probably leave in a half an hour, tops. Maybe even fifteen minutes. Ten if there was someone watching over her.

Sam frowned as he released the mooring ropes. Did he really have it so bad that he could smell Lexi’s perfume wherever he went? He breathed in again, deeper this time. No, he was imagining it. All he could smell was the briny ocean, which was exactly what he needed right now. This was where he could forget about yesterday’s failure. He had the rest of the weekend to be alone out on the harbour, to sail, to fish, to think, to find that inner calm he badly needed right now.

He started the engine and motored out of the marina, giving a wave to one of the young lads who’d helped him rig up a new sail the other day.

He had just enough time before sundown to get to his favourite hideaway. He could already taste that first refreshing sip of beer.

OK
. Lexi tried to talk herself out of panic when she felt the yacht moving away from the marina. He was probably
just taking it out for a test run. That’s what yacht owners did sometimes. They didn’t always go out for the whole weekend. He would come back and she could slip away without him noticing. It’d be a piece of cake. He would never know he’d had a stowaway on board.

After a while she lost track of time. How far was he going for pity’s sake? New Zealand? The Cook Islands? She was hungry, so hungry her stomach was making noises not unlike the growl of the yacht’s engine.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the movement stopped. There was the mechanical sound of an anchor being released and then silence all but for the gentle slip-slap of water and the mewling cry of a seagull passing overhead.

Lexi’s finger was aching from being curled around the cupboard door for so long. Her need for the bathroom had long overtaken her need for food. She would have crossed her legs if there had been room.

Sam’s footsteps sounded again, closer this time. Lexi held her breath, her heart beating so hard and fast it was like a roaring in her ears.

She heard the sound of clothes being removed, and then—heaven help her bladder—the sound of the shower running. After the longest three minutes of her life she heard Sam towel himself dry and then open the cupboard with the drawers inside.

Beads of perspiration were trickling between Lexi’s breasts. Her breathing was now so ragged she felt like her lungs were going to collapse. She looked down at the sliver of light coming through the gap where her finger was keeping the door ajar. She very carefully and very slowly brought her finger out of sight, holding her breath as she closed the cupboard with a soft click. She
fought against the panic of being locked in a confined space.

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