But he had. He still did. By the time either of them had the opportunity to buy condoms, it seemed as if it would be taking back that trust. Negating it.
The bubble of joy that Alice felt encased in these days was all the more astonishing because that level of trust—on both sides—and the fact that neither had suggested any kind of a backward step, made it seem as if they both knew they had found something permanent.
Sane people only had unprotected sex in a relationship where they felt safe. And safe meant commitment, didn’t it? An unspoken pact that it was going somewhere important.
They’d both been celibate for so long as well, which implied that casual sex held no attraction for either of them. To take this step was huge.
And the sex was…amazing. Incredible. Andrew made her feel so beautiful. So desirable. So—
‘Are you going to eat that last roll or just sit there communicating telepathically with it?’
Alice laughed, blushed and reached for the last piece of sushi. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It’s great to see you so happy and being in love turns anyone’s brains to mush. It’s a recognised medical condition, you know.’ Jo was grinning. ‘It’s probably just as well that you and Andy don’t work the same shifts too often. You gave yourselves away with the static that radiates off both of you when you look at each other. It’s a wonder the department still functions properly.’
‘Hey, we focus totally on our jobs when we’re here.’
Jo gathered the empty containers to dump in the rubbish bin. ‘We make people turn off their cellphones so it doesn’t interfere with electronic equipment. I reckon people in love should have to be separated. What if you and Andy caught sight of each other on either side of an IV pump? You could have some poor patient being administered a lethal dose of insulin or something.’
Alice was laughing again as she followed Jo back into the department. If anything, the silly conversation was making her even happier. To generate such an obvious aura, the power had to be coming from both sides and that had to mean that Andrew felt the same way she did, even though he hadn’t said anything.
It had to mean she wasn’t wrong in dreaming of a future with this man. And with the little girl she was coming to love as much as any real mother could.
There was no real reason to drop into the emergency department on his way to pick Emmy up from school. Not on his day off. Well, he had left some journals in his office that he would love to catch up on but a text to Alice would have been enough to have her collect them on his behalf.
The house had felt empty all day, that was the problem. Walking over the hills with only Jake for company earlier this afternoon had felt wrong. The weight of that empty feeling in his gut had made him stop at the highest point on the route and gaze down at this amazing property he now owned.
He could see the beautiful old house with smoke curling from two of its chimneys. Funny how quickly he’d got used to living in such a vast space. It was time to start planning restoration work and finding enough furniture to make it all feel homely. The project was exciting but daunting. Hopefully, Alice would have an idea of where to start.
The old shearer’s cottage looked tiny in comparison and deserted for the moment with no evidence of a fire and warmth within. Not far from the cottage was the paddock where Ben and Paddington were eating the supply of hay Alice must have fed out before leaving for work before dawn this morning.
The recognition of what that empty feeling inside was all about hit Andrew like a solid object. This place was all about Alice and she wasn’t here with him. He needed her here because he was beginning to realise what an integral part Alice was of this whole picture.
Over the last few weeks they had all come to know each other so well. The adults, child and animals. Andrew could touch the top of Jake’s head as he stood there, musing, and he loved the way the dog leaned in against his leg, the way he always did with Alice. He was part of Jake’s clan now. Worthy of companionship and protection. Part of the family.
It made him catch his breath. Sure, Alice still slipped back to the cottage before Emmy woke in the mornings. They had agreed it was wise to keep up the charade of her occupying her own dwelling and bed but, to all intents and purposes, they were functioning as a family, albeit with two very busy parents who were keeping up full-time employment.
It wasn’t a huge stretch of imagination to think of a future that was a little different. One where Alice might want to spend more of her time at home, maybe.
With the children.
He could imagine a toddler, safely strapped into a pushchair and parked in the corner of a paddock with Jake on guard nearby. They would be watching as Alice gave Emmy another one of her astonishingly patient riding lessons. His first born would be wearing the helmet she was so proud of it had to sit on her bedside table at night and her face would be set in those determined lines, like the ones he’d seen yesterday. Paddington had been going round in circles with Alice on the end of the lead rope and Emmy had been bouncing and bumping up and down in the saddle, trying very hard to learn to rise to the trot.
There’d be a high chair at the end of that table in the kitchen and there’d be lots of laughter as a meal was shared.
And then the children would be tucked up in bed and he and Alice would have the rest of the evening to themselves. To talk about their lives and work and children. To dream about the future and, finally, to go to their bed.
They knew each other so well that way now, too. They knew the intricate maps of each other’s bodies. The places to touch or kiss or lick that would elicit a sigh of pleasure or a soft sound of escalating need. Andrew knew when to slow down to take Alice to the brink and then make it last until she was desperate for release. For the bone-softening satisfaction that he could give her.
He wanted her again, just thinking about it.
He wanted everything she was giving him. Them. And he wanted to erase the nebulous fear that it might not last. Was it too soon to talk about marriage? A commitment for life?
…love?
Yes. Judging by the way his heart rate picked up and his mouth went dry, the prospect was enough to make him afraid. Of what—that she might say no? That he might be wrong and it would be buying into the same kind of heartache he couldn’t contemplate enduring again? Especially now, because he knew it would be far worse this time. He’d never felt this way about Melissa. Had never felt this odd emptiness because she wasn’t by his side. He’d never once looked at her and imagined her being his wife and the mother of his children the way he had that night when Alice had knelt in front of his fire and offered to be Emmy’s nanny.
The decision regarding Melissa’s place in his life had been so easy to make. Simply a matter of doing the right thing. Was he hoping at some unconscious level that Alice would make another decision easy and make entertaining any doubts a waste of time and energy? That something would happen to push her more firmly into his arms, like…getting pregnant?
Was that why he’d been insane enough to contemplate having unprotected sex? No. Of course not. He’d never be that irresponsible. On the other hand, if it did happen—eventually—he would be thrilled. The million dollar question was how Alice would feel about it.
Time, Andrew decided on his way down the hill with Jake. He just needed more time to get used to this. To erase those last lingering doubts all by himself. He had to be sure, for Emmy’s sake, and there was no rush, was there?
Alice didn’t want to go anywhere else.
Something didn’t feel right.
Alice couldn’t put her finger on quite what it was, but she was feeling almost disconnected from what she was doing. The graph on the chart where she was recording the figures of a blood pressure she had just taken looked oddly fuzzy. And then her stomach rumbled so loudly the young man on the bed grinned broadly.
‘Someone needs lunch,’ he said.
Alice shook her head. ‘I had a huge lunch not that long ago.’
Her stomach growled again and this time Alice felt it turn over and squeeze. She also experienced a very unpleasant wave of sensation that made her skin prickle.
‘Excuse me,’ she said to her patient.
She needed to go and get some fresh air. Or, better yet, splash a bit of cold water on her face.
She found Jo in the locker room toilets with her hand cupped under the cold tap, scooping water into her mouth.
‘Jo! What’s wrong? You look awful!’
Jo rinsed her mouth and spat. ‘I feel awful. I’ve just been throwing up. Oh, God, I can’t be pregnant.’ She raised a very pale face to look at Alice. ‘ I just can’t be!’
The mention of throwing up was doing something peculiar to Alice. A wave of nausea so powerful it made spots dance in front of her eyes took hold. She clamped a hand over her mouth and made a dive into one of the cubicles.
A very long minute later, she staggered to the basins to copy Jo’s mouth-rinsing technique. Lifting her head with what felt like a supreme effort, she found Jo staring at her in the mirror with a grimace that was a creditable attempt at a smile.
‘Hallelujah,’ Jo groaned. ‘It must have been the sushi!’
Poking his head around the curtain of Cubicle 6, where the busy triage nurse had informed him he would find Alice, the last thing Andrew had expected to find was that she was lying on the bed instead of tending to a patient.
‘Good grief! What’s wrong?’ Concern hit him right in the gut. As hard as it might have if he’d found Emmy lying in a hospital bed.
Alice’s lips were almost as pale as her face and it seemed to be an effort for her to move them.
‘Food…poisoning.’
‘Oh, no! Lunch?’
‘Mmm.’ Alice still hadn’t opened her eyes. ‘Me and Jo…Chicken…sushi.’
The mention of food appeared to be too much. Alice rolled onto her side with a groan and reached for a vomit container.
Andrew already had it in his hand. He supported her head with his free hand until she was finished and then helped her back onto the pillow. He picked up the damp towel clearly there for wiping her face.
‘How long have you been like this?’
Alice managed a faint wry smile. ‘Too long.’ She tried to take the cloth from his hand but he kept wiping gently and she gave up, her hand flopping back onto the bed. ‘I think I’m dying.’
‘You’d better not be,’ Andrew said mildly, trying to ignore the way her words made him ache to hold and comfort her. Trying even harder not to see the dreadful dark chasm that cracked open in the back of his mind at the thought. ‘Emmy hasn’t learned to trot properly yet.’
An attempt at laughter only made Alice throw up again.
‘Sorry.’ But he’d been able to make her laugh even when she was feeling so miserable. Curiously, that made him feel good. ‘Poor you,’ he added sympathetically. ‘I think we’d better get you home, don’t you?’
‘No.’ Alice rolled her head sideways. ‘I’ll just stay here and die quietly. I’d hate to be sick in your nice car.’
‘Where’s Jo?’
‘Her flatmate came and took her home.’
‘And that’s exactly where I’m taking you. Home.’ He might be taking advantage of the fact that Alice was in no condition to argue, but there was no way he wasn’t going to win this round. ‘I want you where I can look after you. Don’t move, I’m going to go and get a wheelchair.’
He obtained a pile of vomit containers and their lids as well. And lots of clean towels, which was a good thing because the movement of the car only made things worse. Not that Alice had anything left in her stomach to get rid of. Between bouts of nausea she rested her head back and kept her eyes firmly shut.
Emmy took one look at the closed eyes and pale face through the side window as Andrew led her to the car a short time later and she stopped in her tracks. Her bottom lip trembled.
‘What’s wrong with Alice?’
‘She’s feeling a bit sick. She ate some bad food for her lunch.’
His hand was being gripped as hard as a five-year-old was capable of gripping. He could sense the tension in her whole body as she continued staring. Alice still had her eyes closed so she was unaware of the horrified scrutiny.
Emmy’s voice had a heartbreaking wobble. ‘She’s not going to die, is she, Daddy?’
Oh, no! Why hadn’t it occurred to him that seeing Alice like this might be traumatic for a child who’d lost her mother?
‘No, darling.’ Andrew scooped her up. ‘She just needs to be looked after for a bit. She’ll be feeling much better by tomorrow.’
‘But…she might die. Like my mummy did.’
‘No.’ Andrew pressed his lips against Emmy’s hair. ‘I told her she’s not allowed to because you haven’t learned to trot on Paddington Bear yet. Come on, we need to get home and then you can help me look after Alice. I’ll be the doctor and you can be the nurse, okay?’
‘And we’ll make her better?’
‘We sure will.’
‘Are you really, really sure?’
‘Yes.’ Andrew put Emmy down and moved to open the back door of his car.
‘That’s good,’ Emmy said. ‘I don’t want Alice to be sick.’
‘Neither do I,’ Andrew murmured, waiting for Emmy to climb inside so he could do up her seat belt. He took a deep breath, letting his gaze rest for a moment on the back of the auburn head close beside him.
‘Neither do I,’ he said again, surprising himself with the absolute conviction his words contained.
The worst was over within twenty-four hours but Alice felt about as energetic as a wet dish cloth.
Lying here, propped up on numerous pillows, with her dog beside the bed and a small girl tucked up against her body, Alice thought she might never want to move again.
‘Are you still here, Em?’ Andrew came into the room with a steaming mug on a saucer in his hand. ‘You’re supposed to be letting Alice rest, remember?’
‘I am,’ Emmy said indignantly. ‘I’m just giving her cuddles.’
Alice smiled. ‘Very nice cuddles they are, too.’
‘Are they helping you get better?’
‘Definitely. I haven’t been sick for hours and hours now.’
‘You’ll be dehydrated.’ Alice felt the bed dip as Andrew sat down on the edge, reaching to put the mug on the bedside table. ‘I thought you might be getting sick of flat lemonade.’
‘It smells nice,’ Alice said cautiously.
‘It’s tomato.’ Andrew smiled. ‘I know you’re supposed to tempt convalescents with chicken soup, but it’s not exactly the flavour of the month around here, is it?’
‘No.’ For a moment, Alice let herself bask in the knowledge that Andrew had thought of bringing soup at all. That he wanted to care for her. She could feel the firmness of his thigh pressing against hers and the bedclothes might as well have not been there.
Emmy was curled up on her other side and Jake had his head up, sniffing the air and eyeing the slivers of dry toast decorating the saucer that held the mug of soup.
When was the last time Alice had felt nurtured like this? Surrounded by…family.
Not since she was a child and there’d just been herself and her grandmother back then. This felt like a real family. Complete.
She would never find anything else quite like this. No one that she wanted to be with as much as this man and child. It was enough to bring a painful lump to her throat.
‘Want to try the soup?’ Andrew asked hopefully.
‘In a bit.’ Alice’s voice had a telltale wobble.
Emmy levered herself up instantly. Well practised now in her role as a nurse, she laid a small hand on Alice’s forehead. She frowned.
‘I think you have a t-tremp—’
‘Temperature?’ Andrew supplied. He lifted his hand and replaced Emmy’s. ‘No. It feels just fine to me.’
The touch was soft. He stroked it upwards to smooth unbrushed curls away and the gesture w
as a caress. One that matched the softness in his eyes as he held Alice’s gaze.
Emmy was watching. ‘Maybe Alice should go in your bed, Daddy.’
‘Oh?’ Alice could see the way Andrew’s pupils dilated a fraction. Desire? Or alarm? ‘Why do you say that, sweetheart?’
‘Because that’s where I go when I feel sick and it always makes me feel better.’
‘Oh…’ Andrew smiled into Alice’s eyes. ‘Would it make you feel better, do you think, Alice?’
‘Um…perhaps not right now.’ There was a bubble of laughter growing now. A silent communication that was a shared joy. She was sure she could see a reflection of what she was feeling.
A love so strong it was overwhelming.
‘No.’ Andrew was nodding gravely. ‘Not right now. It’s soup time for you. And you, young lady…’ He rolled so that he was eye to eye with his daughter over the slope of Alice’s hip. ‘You need to come with me. We’ve got one horse and one pony that need some hay.’
The effects of the food poisoning were hard to shake off.
It was several days before Alice felt well enough to go back to work. That it might take a lot longer to share Andrew’s bed again was a disturbing prospect.
‘I missed a pill,’ she confessed after a long tender kiss as they sat on the couch together late at night. ‘Two, in fact.’
‘There wouldn’t have been much point in taking them when you couldn’t keep anything down, anyway.’ Andrew’s hand traced her ribs and rested on the jut of her hip bone. ‘You’ve lost weight, love. Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?’
‘I’m fine but…it’s too risky.’
‘I have a good supply of condoms,’ Andrew told her. ‘I bought them weeks ago after that first night.’
‘You did?’ Alice’s eyes widened. ‘You never mentioned that.’
‘Didn’t see the need. It’s extra protection now, though, if you want the insurance.’
If she wanted it? What was Andrew suggesting—that it wouldn’t be a disaster if she got pregnant?
Single Dad Needs Nanny Page 24