The Doctor's Proposal (14 page)

Like he was balancing on a knife-edge.

She'd accused him of being scared, he thought, and she was right. Ever since he'd been left with two babies to make a future for, every decision had been carefully controlled. But Kirsty was uncontrolled. Uncontrollable.

Kirsty.

This was madness. This was not a sensible move at all, but she was right before him, her eyes wide with gentle, mocking
enquiry. A man could drown in those eyes. A man could lose control completely. No, it wasn't the least bit sensible but she was waiting to be kissed. The watchers on the clifftop were waiting for a man to kiss a woman. Kirsty had defied him to put on a show for their audience, and suddenly he couldn't help himself.

And when he took her hands in his, when he drew her to him and kissed her, softly, wonderingly on the mouth, it was like the coming together of two halves of a whole.

She was so…right!

He'd thought he'd known how a woman felt—of course he did—but this was different. Each curve; the soft warmth of her; every part of her moulding against him, fitting with a completeness that was as shocking as it was wonderful.

He knew this woman, he thought numbly. He'd always known her, but he hadn't found her until now. And then he stopped thinking anything at all as his mind shuttered down and all he felt was the kiss.

And Kirsty…

Kirsty had goaded him into this kiss, half laughing, but half of her desperately wanting. It was as if she'd been defying herself to find that it couldn't be as wonderful as her subconscious was screaming that it could be. But her subconscious had been overwhelmingly, deliciously right.

Her hands came up to cup his face, deepening the kiss, and she felt the rough beginning of stubble on his tough male skin. It was so erotic she felt her toes start to curl.

She'd kissed men. Of course she'd kissed men.

Nobody had caused her toes to curl as this man was doing right now.

And she could keep kissing him. It was unbelievable that he was kissing her, that she was holding him and he wasn't pulling away, that he was deepening the kiss, seemingly wanting her as much as she wanted him.

Nothing had ever felt so right. Her breasts were against his
chest, his hands were tugging her waist, drawing her into him, and she was arching against him. Aching. Loving. Welcoming her man to her, as a woman welcomed her man home after battle.

Home to her heart.

This couldn't last. They were playing for an audience, she thought in the tiny recess of her brain still available for anything but pure, hot sensation. In a moment he'd pull away and all the reasons why he didn't want a relationship, why she didn't want a relationship, would surface and life would go on as before.

This was time out for both of them but she wasn't going to stop it. To do so would be dumb, and she didn't feel dumb. She felt light and hot and wonderful and…loved.

Loved?

Maybe she was dumb after all. Her hands moved to pull him closer, tighter, to deepen the kiss as if to block out the unwanted intrusion of sanity.

But it had happened and maybe he'd felt it, or maybe he'd had his own intrusive thoughts because suddenly he was pulling away. His hands caught hers, using them to hold her away from him. Just a little.

His eyes were quizzical, laughing—but she was starting to know this man and she could see uncertainty behind the façade of laughter.

‘Do you think that's given them enough?'

‘No,' she said, trying to match his laughter. But she was aware that the unsteadiness of her voice must be a give-away to the jumble of emotions within. ‘They won't be satisfied unless you rip my clothes off and take me, right here.'

‘You want to do that?' he asked, the smile still managing to stay—but both of them knew that what he was suggesting was entirely possible, given another time, another place…

Another life.

He released her hands and it was all she could do not to cry. Such a loss.

‘Maybe being known as Dolphin Bay's town slut isn't quite
what I had in mind,' she managed, still trying for lightness. ‘Though it'd do wonders for your reputation. Fornication in public? No mother in her right mind would let her daughter so much as come to you for a flu jab.'

‘Then maybe we'd better not.'

‘Maybe we'd better not.'

He caught her hand again, simply, girl to boy, swinging her around so they were side by side, facing the cliff. It was a simple gesture, but the feel of his fingers entwined in hers moved her unutterably. She glanced up at the line of cars, trying to take her mind off the feel of his hand. By the time they reached the car park their audience would have completely dispersed, she decided. The town gossip network was about to move into meltdown.

‘You think what we've just done will keep me safe from matchmaking?' Jake murmured, and the lightness had suddenly gone from his voice. His fingers were gripping hers with force as well as with warmth.

‘For the next few weeks they'll bracket us together,' she whispered. ‘Everyone knows we've been sleeping in the same castle. The local gossip lines will all but self-destruct. Then when I go you can be heartbroken all over again, just as you were when your wife left. Getting over your wife has given you years of grace. The town is only starting to gear up seriously to matchmake. And now you've another lost love.'

‘You're my lost love,' he said, sounding startled.

‘I make a good one, don't you think?'

‘Um…sure.'

‘There you go, then.' She was working so hard on keeping it light that something inside her was threatening to break. She was so close to tears…

There was a ring from his shirt pocket and she thought, Thank heaven for cell phones. Anything to break this moment. Anything to give her space. She walked away a little, and she could almost hear the collective sigh of disappointment from the clifftop.

Could she stand living here as the local doctor and being watched every day?

Maybe not. Not unless…

Don't go there, she told herself. She shrugged and hiked up the beach, and by the time Jake reached her she was sitting on the sand, pulling her sandals back on. Their time of make-believe was over.

‘They were lovely fish and chips,' she told him, trying to sound polite and dismissive. ‘It was a very nice walk and a very nice kiss. Thank you very much, Doctor.'

His lips twitched. ‘Just like that? Consultation over?'

‘I'd be guessing you have places to go, people to see.'

‘Emily Cannon has croup.'

‘There you go, then. I'll see you back at home.' Hardly, she thought. Jake and his twins were sleeping in a guest suite on the first floor near Angus, about as far from her as it was possible to be. ‘Unless you need help with croup,' she added, trying not to sound hopeful.

‘Croup hardly needs a specialist anaesthetist.'

‘I still remember croup training.'

‘I don't need you.'

You couldn't get more of a dismissal than that. Right.

‘Goodnight, then, Dr Cameron,' she told him.

‘Goodnight, Dr McMahon.'

‘I'd shake hands but our audience seems to have disappeared,' she said, motioning to the deserted car park. ‘It'd be a waste of human contact, don't you think?'

But she didn't wait to find out whether he agreed or not. She turned and stalked back to her car with all the dignity a woman could muster.

Which wasn't very much at all.

I
T WAS
a long night. Kirsty lay awake and wondered what on earth she'd done. She'd tossed her dignity aside and behaved like a twit. She'd thrown herself at the man.

‘I had fun,' she told herself, trying desperately to lighten what had happened in her head. ‘And he had fun, too. We were a mature man and woman play-acting for the local gossips.

‘That might be what Jake was doing, but it was far more than play-acting for you, and you know it.'

Sleep wouldn't come. She rose and padded softly into Susie's room, as she'd done so often over the last week, and she found her sister staring at the ceiling as well.

‘What's up?' she asked, and Susie turned and smiled at her in the moonlight.

‘Nothing's up, stoopid. That's the problem.'

‘Huh?'

‘I was woken by Rory junior practising his gridiron,' she said. ‘Then I had to get up for a pee for the fourth time tonight. And now…I've just been lying here thinking that life suddenly seems hopeful again. Just a little bit,' she said hastily, as if her sister might read too much into her confession. ‘But these last days…it's been like slivers of light breaking through fog. Just glimpses, but they're getting longer.'

‘That's great,' Kirsty said warmly, perched on her twin's bed. ‘Depression is such a ghastly illness. I've been so fright
ened for you.' She lifted her sister's hand and squeezed. ‘I guess I still am.'

‘You're thinking the clouds will re-form,' Susie whispered. ‘I'm afraid they might, too. It's great that I'm having this…this little bit of happiness but then I remember that Rory isn't here to share it with me. He won't see his baby. Then I think I've got no right to go on.'

Kirsty had left the door open. Angus left a nightlight on—actually a night chandelier—and now a shadow crossed the door. Susie's eyes flew to see who it was, and she smiled a welcome.

‘Jake.'

Jake paused in the doorway. Boris was by his side, wagging his tail in greeting. He'd obviously been waiting in the hall for Jake to return and now his tail was sweeping his pleasure.

‘Susie.' Jake's voice was warm and caring. ‘Is anything wrong?' Then he saw Kirsty, and his voice changed. ‘Sorry. You have your personal physician in attendance already. I'm on my way to bed. Come on, Boris.'

‘Come in and join us,' Susie called.

Kirsty thought, Rats. But it was callous to say
rats
so she calmly moved up the bed a bit so Jake could come in and sit down.

He came instead to stand, looking searchingly down at Susie.

Ignoring Kirsty.

‘You really are all right?'

‘I really am,' Susie told him. ‘And tomorrow Angus and I have organised to see the physiotherapist you told me about.'

That was a huge step forward, Kirsty acknowledged. Up until now Susie had resisted all attempts to get her moving. But Jake had talked about the physiotherapist who visited town once a week. He'd told Angus Susie would benefit, but she wouldn't go by herself—and then he'd told Susie that physiotherapy could prolong Angus's life but he wouldn't go by himself either. Hey, presto, problem fixed. Together they'd go. Country doctor doing what he did best. Sorting out a multitude of problems with interlacing solutions.

Up until now Boris had been standing by Susie's bed. But Kirsty had made room for Jake; the spot was vacant and a dog could only stand temptation for so long. He leapt up, realised how comfortable it was and wriggled forward on his stomach until he was near enough to give Susie a long, slurpy kiss.

‘Urk,' Susie said—and giggled.

It was the best sound, Kirsty thought. It was an amazing sound. No matter what sort of emotional mess this man was making of her head, she forgave him all because he'd made her sister giggle.

It had to continue, she thought desperately. But would it? After the baby's birth, hormonal changes could propel her further downward, postnatal depression mingling with an existing diagnosis.

‘Susie's feeling guilty that she's started to have glimmers of enjoyment,' she told Jake, jumping in feet first. ‘Rory's not here to share it. She's feeling dreadful that she's here and he's not, and she's scared the depression's going to descend again.'

‘It's an awful feeling,' Jake said softly. ‘I know when my sister died, that was one of the hardest things to come to terms with.'

‘Your sister died?' Susie asked. Kirsty didn't say anything. It was like he poleaxed her every time he opened his mouth.

‘Car accident when she was sixteen,' he said briefly. ‘The first time I forgot…my friends dragged me out to a movie and it was a silly, dopey movie where we all ended up drunk on laughter and life and sheer teenage silliness. And I came out into the night and thought, Elly's never going to see that movie. It was so gut-wrenching that I threw up. My body reacted to mental anguish by physical revolt.'

‘Your friends wouldn't have understood,' Susie whispered.

‘I told them I had a stomach upset,' he told them. ‘Maybe they believed me. They probably did, come to think of it, as how can you know what loss feels like until you've experienced it? What followed then was months of pseudo-stomach upsets, and even now I have moments. But I've learned…' He hesitated,
glancing at Kirsty as if unsure that he should reveal himself so completely in her presence. ‘But I've learned that I can't not see movies. Or go to the beach, or have my twenty-first birthday or get married and have kids just to stop my gut wrenching. Because it doesn't help. Grief and loss twists your gut into such a knot that every now and then you just have to let go, let it all out, sob or vomit or kick inanimate objects or whatever you find helps—but you have to do it. If you don't you stay permanently twisted inside.'

‘I guess that's what I have been,' Susie whispered. ‘Twisted inside.'

‘Just a little bit battered,' he told her, smiling. ‘Not so twisted as you'd noticed. Your walking is going great. Rory would be so proud of you.'

‘He would, wouldn't he?' she said, a trifle defiantly. And then she looked from Jake to Kirsty and back again. ‘So tonight, on the beach—'

‘I need to go to bed,' Jake said, cutting her off. ‘I've only just got home. Three house-calls in a row and it's two a.m.'

‘Tonight on the beach, were you trying to forget something?' Susie said, deliberately and slowly. ‘Or were you both truly moving on?'

‘I'm not sure what you mean,' Jake said, and cast a glance at Kirsty that accused her of going straight home to her sister and telling all.

Susie caught the glance and smiled.

‘Leave her alone. She hasn't said a word. But Margie's sister-in-law was in the car park and the phones have been running hot since. Margie popped in before she went to bed to ask what did I think and wouldn't it be lovely?' Her smile was tentative but it stayed fixed. ‘It's only fair to warn you. I'm simply the first to ask the question.'

‘Well, you've asked it,' Jake said, with another doubtful look at Kirsty. ‘Now I'm going to bed. Goodnight.'

‘You haven't answered my question,' Susie complained.

‘It's none of your business.'

That was blunt, Kirsty thought, a bit shocked, but Susie's smile peeped out again.

‘No. But I'm Kirsty's twin. I know all her nearest and dearest concerns. Ask your own two if you don't believe me. How many secrets do Alice and Penelope keep from each other?'

No, but I don't know the answer to this one, Kirsty thought desperately, and she glanced at her twin and she saw that Susie knew this, too. And maybe that was why she was asking.

‘I have one set of twins in my life,' Jake said, and there was a trace of desperation in his voice as he responded. ‘I can't cope with two.'

‘Cut it out, Suze,' Kirsty said, and there was even more desperation in her tone. ‘Let the man go to bed.'

‘Only asking,' Susie responded, her intelligent eyes moving from one to the other. She hesitated. ‘Has Kirsty told you about her shadows?'

‘No…'

‘Our mother died when we were ten,' Susie told him. ‘Our father suicided soon after. Since then, Kirsty's taken on the cares of the world. She's looked after me—protected me. She's taken on her job at the hospice, taking care of the dying, and I'm sure that's more of the same. Our father suicided because he couldn't move on. I ventured out again and got hit hard. Kirsty's watched from the sidelines and she's decided she doesn't ever want to go there.'

‘Cut it out,' Kirsty said with desperation, and Susie smiled.

‘You can't have it both ways, kid. You've worked on getting me better and now I am—or a bit. For the first time since Rory died I'm popping my head up from under the fog and taking notice of what's going on around me. The gut twisting isn't happening and I'm feeling…light. And very, very interested in what's happening to my twin.'

‘That's good,' Jake said, but he was edging backwards. ‘I need to go.'

‘Of course you do,' Susie told him. ‘Kirsty, you need to go, too.'

‘I'm staying for a bit.'

‘I don't need you.'

‘Yes, you do,' Kirsty snapped. ‘Goodnight, Dr Cameron.'

‘Goodnight, Dr McMahon.'

And he was gone.

 

With the door closed safely behind him, Kirsty turned on her twin with a mixture of indignation, anger and shock. ‘How could you? Susie, you've scared the man witless. You've scared me witless.'

‘You're not scared witless,' Susie said thoughtfully. ‘Oh, Kirsty, he's gorgeous. And you kissed him.'

‘We were messing around. Having a lend of the locals.'

‘Truly?'

‘Truly.'

‘So,' she said, fixing her twin with a look Kirsty hadn't seen for a long time, ‘you're saying you're not in love with Jake Cameron.'

‘You're delusional,' Kirsty said. ‘I'll take your blood pressure.'

‘There's nothing wrong with my blood pressure,' Susie murmured. ‘Yours, on the other hand… Ooh, Kirsty, what are you going to tell Robert?'

‘Nothing.'

‘I don't expect you need to,' she said thoughtfully. ‘He's so limp he's not even likely to notice he's been dumped.'

‘Suze!'

‘Get out of it,' Susie told her twin. ‘Off you go. Leave me to my dreams. But something tells me they're not all dreams. You can't be a twin without knowing a thing or two, and I know a thing or six!'

 

How was a girl supposed to sleep after that?

She hardly did. She woke up early, and decided she'd make herself breakfast. But when she reached the kitchen door she heard Jake's voice and paused.

‘We've got to get you fat somehow,' he was saying. ‘An accompanying bag of bones does nothing for my medical image. If you want to be a super-doctor's dog, you need to look a walking advertisement for vitamin pills. Have another rasher.'

Jake and Boris.

She leaned back against the wall, unashamedly eavesdropping.

‘We have to go home soon, mate. We're only here in protection mode and it seems there's no threat.'

There was a faint whimper and she could imagine Boris's dopey ears sprawled over Jake's knee.

‘Yeah, it's been good. But to pretend it could be like this all the time is dumb. Happy families are an illusion.'

Another whimper.

‘It's coming.' He sounded exasperated. ‘You don't want your bacon non-crispy, do you?'

Silence. The sound of spitting bacon.

‘If she wasn't here, I'd stay on for a bit,' he said softly. ‘But she is. And it's a dangerous road. The twins and you and me…we're a unit and I'm not letting anything threaten that. Or anyone.'

She should go in. The bacon smelled terrific.

She didn't. She went upstairs to check on Angus.

Jake wasn't letting anything threaten his precious family unit, she thought as she trudged upstairs. She didn't intend to let him threaten her independence. Fine. They were of like minds.

All she felt like doing was bursting into tears.

Check Angus. Forget the tears.

Forget men! Or every man but Angus…

She knocked. When Angus didn't answer she opened the door a crack, as she'd been doing since they'd arrived, assuming he was still asleep.

He wasn't asleep. He was sprawled on the floor by the window.

He'd tripped on the mat, she thought in dismay. His oxygen cylinder was on its side and his nasal tube had been ripped from his face in his fall.

No!

‘Jake!' she screamed in a voice that was meant to be heard in the middle of next week.

He'd stopped breathing. She couldn't find a pulse. Damn, where was it? She was feeling his carotid artery. His neck was warm to the touch but she couldn't find…she couldn't find…

Airway. Check airways, stupid. Keep the panic for later. Her fingers were in his mouth, seeking for an obstruction and finding none.

Heart attack? Stroke?

Get the breathing back and find out. Get oxygen. A defibrillator?

‘Jake!' Angus must be dead if that scream didn't have him jerking to wakefulness.

Don't die, Angus.

Keep yourself professional.

Ha!

She ripped his pyjama coat open, hauling him onto his back. She was kneeling over him, breathing for him, cupping her hands to start the rhythmic pounding of CPR.

How long had he been on the floor? She'd checked him at four a.m. and he'd been fine. How long hadn't he been breathing?

He was still so warm. Maybe…maybe…

From behind her she heard boots taking the stairs three at a time. Then Jake's barked query. ‘What the—?'

‘It must be cardiac arrest. Have you got—?'