English Doctor, Italian Bride

by Carol Marinelli

‘I’m fine.’ Her two words slapped him to his senses—this was not what was expected of him tonight.

  ‘You’re more like your mother than you realize.’ Hugh smiled, standing up and kissing her on the cheek. ‘Holding everything in.’

  ‘Me?’ She gave a short incredulous laugh.

  ‘Because, if you do need anything…’ He stopped himself then, now not the time to push things. ‘’Night, Bonita.’

  She didn’t answer, just sat stock still as he headed to the door.

  ‘Stay with me tonight.’ Her voice was the most assured he’d heard it all week. Turning around, he saw not a flicker of doubt on her face, her wishes exceptionally clear. ‘You asked if there was something you can do, and there is—I don’t want to be alone.’

  And it would be impossible to say no to her, to walk away from her pain—which made it incredibly easy to walk towards her.

  ‘Then you don’t have to be.’

  It was the simplest of decisions, the hows and whys didn’t matter. She was in pain, and needed him. For Hugh, for that moment, it made utter sense to take her hand, to turn out the light and take her to her room.

  Perfect sense to undress, because this wasn’t about a kiss that might lead somewhere else, this was about being together, about being as close as they could be, about lying with her in her single bed and holding her. A little shy and awkward as she was, Bonita relaxed as his body spooned behind her, strong arms wrapped around her, and he didn’t say anything at all when she started to weep, just carried on holding her.

  It felt so good to be held, the agony still there, so painful to unload, but it was a relief to visit scary places in her head with the safety net of Hugh holding her, to know it was OK to cry now, which she did, till respite was needed.

  A sweet, sweet respite.

  Turning round to face him in her bed, it was hard to fathom Hugh was there, that it was his skin beneath her fingers, his long, toned, warm body next to hers. Once, twice in her life she’d tasted heaven, and she was tasting it again now—breathing in the reckless, dizzying scent of him. And this wasn’t Hugh in his twenties and some frantic kitchen kiss getting out of control, this was Hugh in his thirties, pushing her face back on the pillow and kissing her so deeply she didn’t even want to breathe. It was Hugh who found the emergency exit to her soul and dragged her outside herself for a little while, chased away her fears, her terror, her grief till his mouth, his scent, his embrace took her to a still silent place for a moment, where all there was was them, and nothing else existed.

  And when she started crying again, it didn’t matter, when the sun of his kiss dipped behind the cloud of grief, he just held her, letting her sample the necessary pain, diluted it by being there as she took it in small measured doses. His lips were still waiting, his body still patient when she didn’t want to face it again.

  She found out that that first kiss had meant something, knew because his hands went to her breasts, just as they had then, heard his moan of pleasure as finally he held her the way he had wanted to, his lips tracing her neck, as they had once before, only he was utterly unhurried this time, relishing each lick, each taste.

  ‘Do you know how much I’ve wanted this?’ His mouth was on her nipple now, his tongue sliding around her areola, then sucking, his body taut and aroused beside her yet somehow languorous and lazy, this night theirs. She could feel his erection on her thigh, could feel the comfort of his kiss on her breast, the warmth of his long legs wrapped loosely around hers. And when it seemed wrong to feel right tonight, and she sobbed her regret as it took over, all he did was hold her, all he did was tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking…’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything.’

  ‘I want to…’ Her need was suddenly urgent. She wanted this escape so badly, but for entirely selfish reasons.

  ‘So, when you’re ready we will…’

  He was so infinitely patient, it bemused her, so slow and unhurried, content to kiss her. Content to let her explore him at her leisure. Her fingers marvelling at the velvet skin, the thick, fierce heat of his arousal that she had kept at bay for so long now.

  ‘You must want—’

  ‘Hey.’ He smiled as he kissed her, his voice low in her ear, making her stomach curl deep inside. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently, so take as long as you like.’

  She didn’t know what he meant at first, her eyes locking with his and seeking clarification. Then she understood that her image had been used in quiet, urgent moments, and that made the curl in her stomach tighten to a hot ball. She imagined that their frantic thoughts might have met at times, and all she wanted now was them. Wanted the heavy weight of him above her, wanted him consuming her. The nudge of his thigh between hers met her need, her throat constricted with delicious anticipation, then the luscious stab as he entered, the sheer heady bliss as her body acclimatised to the feel of him, locking eyes with his as he moved inside her.

  ‘The bed!’ she could hear the rhythmic squeaking, and giggled into his chest as they shifted over. The frantic noise continued, only ceasing when they barely moved, but even if their bodies were almost still, there was frenzy within. They faced each other again, but with only the other on their minds…And now she wasn’t smiling, just staring at the man she’d adored since the age of eleven and had hated since eighteen and loved for a whole lot longer, and now she knew why. Every question she’d ever asked was answered as he moved deep within her.

  Because they were right.

  ‘Shh…’ His mouthed hushed hers. She hadn’t even been aware that she was crying, but they were a different sort of tears now, she was almost scared of the reaction in her body. They weren’t kissing, just exchanging breaths. She could feel the rip of tension in him leashing then unleashing as she held him intimately tight, the involuntary paroxysm of her own body as her orgasm shuddered on, dragging him deeper, dredging his reserves as he sated her.

  ‘Bonny…’ Gasping, breathless, exhausted, oblivion was the antidote to pain, and he had given her that. Hugh had shared this long lonely night, had actually taken her pain and divided it. Still he divided it further, hooking her into his arm, kissing the thick curls on the back of her head, his hot, tender hand stroking her stomach in tiny wavy circles. Bonita closed her eyes, able finally to relax now, knowing that he’d stay awake till she was safely asleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘BONNY.’ Her mother’s voice at the door woke them both up. They lay there absolutely still, a knot of arms and legs. Their frantic eyes stared in horror at the doorhandle.

  ‘I won’t be a moment!’ Bonita attempted a normal voice, climbing out of the warm bed as Hugh lay there, his face and his body utterly rigid.

  She hadn’t drunk a drop yesterday, scared at the emotions it might unleash, yet she almost felt as if she was tripping over champagne bottles as she walked to the bedroom door, as if she was in the grip of some vile hangover after the most careless, reckless of nights.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ Carmel called through the door. ‘I’m just going down to the stables. I didn’t want you worrying where I was…’ Her voice was already trailing off as she walked down the hallway. Bonita turned to where Hugh lay, and every fear she might have had, had there been time to think about it, was confirmed in his taut features.

  Horror and regret at what had taken place were visible on his strained face as he lay there unable to look her in the eye.

  ‘She had no idea that you’re in here.’

  ‘I know…’ He climbed out of the bed, pulled on his trousers. She could see the muscles straining in his shoulders, his neck as he quickly dressed then dragged a hand through his hair before he could even face her. ‘Bonny, I’m sorry, we should never have risked it…I should never have…’ He gave an appalled shake of his head.

  ‘Hugh, it’s fine,’ Bonita said, because to her it was. Yes, there were better places for it to have happened, but last night hadn’t been one for sensi
ble thought processes. Last night had been about survival, about need, about being with the one you loved.

  ‘No, it’s not all right. Your father…’ He didn’t finish, his whole body filled with tension. ‘Look, check the hall, I’ll go into Ricky’s room. It will look strange if we appear together. I’ll get up in a bit…we’ll talk later…’

  ‘Sure.’

  She knew he felt awful, knew emotion had carried them to bed last night, but for Bonita nothing had changed. As upset as she’d been, her thought process had been crystal clear—everything she had felt last night she still felt in the cold light of morning. Her only regret was his.

  ‘Later.’ Briefly he kissed her worried mouth. ‘We’ll talk later.’

  A shower couldn’t wash away her doubts. Pulling a comb through her hair, Bonita dressed then braced herself to go down to the kitchen. And though everything looked the same it felt new and different, her mother out, her father not there, just Paul, boiling the kettle, giving her a grim smile as she joined him.

  ‘Have you seen Mum?’ he asked as soon as Bonita appeared.

  ‘No—she just knocked on my door. She’s gone down to the stables.’

  ‘How did she seem?’

  ‘I don’t know. She just knocked on the door and said not to worry—she was going for a walk or something. She sounded OK.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Bonny.’ Paul gave a tight smile. ‘I told you off last night. You were right to leave her alone.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry.’ Bonita accepted his apology with a half-smile. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know what to do either—it was Hugh who said to leave her.’

  ‘He’s been great, hasn’t he?’ Paul joined her at the table. ‘Look Bonny, I was talking to Ricky and Marco yesterday…When do you go back to work?’

  ‘Monday,’ Bonita answered. ‘They offered me another week for compassionate leave, but I’m going back on Monday.’

  ‘So will you be moving back to the flat at the weekend?’

  ‘I don’t know, Paul,’ Bonita answered carefully. In many ways she’d seen this coming—with her shoulder and everything, the last few weeks had fallen pretty much on her, but decisions had to be made now, and Bonita could guess what was coming.

  ‘Well, as I said, we were talking…The thing is, we don’t feel Mum should be left on her own at the moment—’

  ‘So you move in, then,’ Bonita interrupted.

  ‘I have to be close to the hospital—I’ve got a lot of on calls coming up. And Ricky and Marco are out in Bendigo.’

  She’d sort of expected this, but it still hurt. A doctor and two vets they may be, but what right did they have to assume that her life, her job was so much less important than theirs?

  ‘Can you stay on here for a couple more weeks?’

  ‘I’ve already been away for a month!’

  ‘I know that,’ Paul said. ‘Look, don’t take this the wrong way…’ A very embarrassed Paul slid a cheque over the table towards her and as he spoke on, she realised that she almost had taken it the wrong way.

  ‘We know you’re not getting shift allowance, we know that the bills are still coming in. Take this to tide you over, give Emily some rent, pay some bills. I’ve spoken to my boss and I’m taking a fortnight’s leave in two weeks, Marco’s going to do the same after that and Ricky’s trying to swing it, though the practice is new, but if he can’t, Harriet will come down with the kids. We all know it’s asking a helluva lot of you, but if we can just have two weeks to organise things, it will mean Mum won’t be on her own for a couple of months.’

  She’d never felt closer to them.

  Oh, it wasn’t the money—just the thought behind it, and that they had seen how much she had done.

  ‘Put it in your pocket,’ Paul said, handing her the cheque. “Don’t let Mum see—she’ll think she’s a bloody charity case or something.’

  ‘I can manage.’

  ‘Well, you’re doing better than me, then.’

  She felt guilty how relieved she felt. Not just that she wouldn’t have to hang out now till payday to give Emily the rent but that she had some time to decide what to do.

  She’d been back to the flat a couple of times, but it was like going back to school after the summer holidays and finding that all your friends had changed—or rather that you’d grown up and changed. And it wasn’t just about Bill. The girls’ nights in, and girls’ nights out and the jumble of flat sharing just didn’t appeal to her right now.

  Maybe a couple weeks at home, to adjust to going back to work, might be the answer for everyone.

  ‘Did Hugh end up staying last night?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Bonita asked, jumping to embarrassed attention as Paul broke into her thoughts.

  ‘Hugh. He was talking about getting a taxi—I just wondered if he stayed.’

  ‘Not sure.’ Bonita blushed, covering her flaming cheeks with her hair as she concentrated on stirring her tea. ‘I think so.’

  ‘He’s usually up first.’ Paul yawned, glancing at his watch. ‘Mind you, if he did stay, he’s no doubt already gone home. Amber’s probably sick of our family’s dramas pulling him away from her all the time.’

  ‘Amber?’ Adding another unnecessary and unwanted teaspoon of sugar, Bonita could hear the high note in her voice and fought to check it. ‘I didn’t know he was still seeing her.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Paul affirmed. ‘They’re the talk of the hospital. Lucky man—she’s stunning.’

  ‘I didn’t think they were that serious.’ Bonita offered, as if she were privy to information, as if the hospital grapevine had personally delivered her that vital piece of news.

  ‘You’ve been out of the loop with your shoulder, remember!’ Paul smiled. ‘He’s besotted with her—that’s why he came back to Australia apparently. It would seem Hugh’s finally found the first Mrs Armstrong—well, for a little while at least…’

  ‘Meaning?’ She could feel bile churning inside her, took a massive gulp of tea in the hope of calming it down and almost threw up.

  ‘Well, the novelty of being faithful might appeal for five minutes or so, but I’m sure it will soon wear off. Can you really imagine Hugh committing to one person for life?’ He laughed, actually laughed at the very thought of it, and Bonita was too thrown and confused to even pretend to join in. ‘From what I hear, he’s intending to propose to her soon. He’s bought the ring and everything. It’s massive.

  ‘Hey, Marco!’ Bonita was glad when Marco joined them, because she was starting to hyperventilate, could feel her breath coming in short, tight bursts. ‘I was just telling Bonny the news about Hugh!’ Paul said.

  ‘Lucky guy,’ Marco grumbled. ‘The ring’s stunning by all accounts…Who’d have thought?’

  Who didn’t think?

  No wonder Hugh had been so appalled when he had awoken this morning. Even a man with the morals of an alley cat would be struggling a touch. Or maybe he was just worried how she was going to be. If she’d be making demands, telling people…telling Amber!

  ‘Bonny?’ Paul frowned at her pale features. ‘Hey we’re sorry, chatting away about nonsense. It’s just our way of dealing with it.’

  ‘Morning!’ Her eyes swollen and a touch shaky, but very together, Carmel walked into the kitchen and for the first time in living memory she didn’t head to the fridge and start fixing breakfast, just came and joined them all at the kitchen table.

  ‘How are you, Mum?’ Paul asked, and Carmel took a moment or two to think about it before answering.

  ‘I’ll get there, darling. How about you?’

  ‘I keep forgetting,’ Paul admitted. ‘Then it nearly kills me when I suddenly remember.’

  ‘How are you doing, Bon—?’ Her voice faded as she saw Bonita’s pained expression. ‘I know it’s awful for you, darling. You did so well yesterday, not just yesterday…’ Again she didn’t finish as Hugh joined them at the table. He kissed Carmel on the cheek and Bonita had no idea if he was looking at her because she was completely avoidi
ng looking at him.

  ‘Breakfast, anyone?’ Carmel said, sounding more like the old Carmel, but Paul shook his head.

  ‘I’ve had some toast. I’m going to go out for a ride—try and clear my head.’

  ‘Well, it worked for me.’ Carmel smiled. ‘How about you, Hugh? What would you like?’

  ‘Not for me thanks—I’m due at work in half an hour!’

  ‘Have some toast at least.’

  But Hugh couldn’t…just gulped down a cup of tea, and then headed off to his bedroom to pack.

  ‘He’s been such a help!’ Carmel smiled as he headed to the bedroom to grab his things. ‘He just adored your father…he’d do anything to make this easier on all of us.’

  Anything.

  Even sleeping with her if that was what she needed—hell, what was a night of sex to a guy like Hugh? And why hadn’t she seen the writing on the wall?

  He’d told her.

  In this very kitchen he’d stood and told her—and she’d refused to believe it.

  That’s what guys did, Bonita brutally reminded herself. When it’s available.

  Well, she’d save him the effort of breaking her heart again.

  Heading down the hall, she knocked on Ricky’s bedroom door, gave Hugh a thin smile as he turned around from where he was packing his bag.

  ‘Can I call you later?’ he asked. ‘Maybe we could go out tonight, away from here.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘It would just be easier to talk, what with your mum around and everything.’

  ‘It didn’t stop you last night.’

  ‘About last night…’ She watched his hand drag through his hair, his lips purse for a second as carefully he chose different words, and watched the awkward dart of his eyes and the swallow of his Adam’s apple. ‘I haven’t been completely up-front with you, Bonny. There are things we should have spoken about, things you don’t know…’

  Oh, but she did know. They were humming the same tune—just a different song now.

  It was a slightly more mature version that allowed for the years since the first time she’d heard it—then it had been a kiss, now they’d make love. Hey, maybe she could be a diversion now and then, maybe when Amber was pregnant, or things weren’t going well with her partner they could be friends with benefits, no-strings sex…