by Leah Martyn
Agitatedly, Darcie began stroking the edge of the table. Jack watched her hands, fine, delicate with short neat nails; doctor’s hands.
‘He won’t, Jack.’
Jack looked up.
She brought her hands together and locked her fingers.
‘Loving you has made me strong.’ For a long moment she returned his gaze, her intent never wavering. ‘He won’t talk me round.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
AND THAT HAD been supposed to reassure him? The question ran endlessly through Jack’s head for the umpteenth time as he scrubbed his hands vigorously at the basin. Well, he wasn’t reassured. Far from it.
‘Which one do you want to do first?’ Beside him, Natalie began opening a suture pack. She was referring to the twelve-year-old boys who’d been brought in after crashing into each other while skateboarding. Neither had been wearing protective headgear. Both were bloody with split eyebrows and pale with shock at finding themselves in Casualty.
‘Doesn’t matter. Either one. Idiot kids,’ he growled. ‘And why weren’t they at school?’
Natalie sent him a long-suffering look. ‘It’s Saturday, Jack.’
‘Oh—is it?’ he replied edgily. ‘I’ve lost track.’ But he hadn’t lost track of the number of days Darcie had been gone. She’d been gone ten days and each had seem to last longer than the one before it.
‘Perhaps I’d better take the kid with the egg on his forehead,’ Jack reconsidered.
‘Matthew,’ Natalie supplied. ‘Are you concerned he might be concussed?’
Jack shrugged. ‘As far as we know, he didn’t pass out but I’d like his neuro obs monitored for a couple of hours just to be on the safe side.’
‘Need an extra hand?’
Jack spun round from the basin as if his body had been zapped by a ricocheting bullet. His dark brows snapped together. ‘You’re back.’
Darcie coloured faintly. He didn’t seem very pleased to see her and it wasn’t the welcome she’d orchestrated in her mind at all. ‘I’m back,’ she echoed.
‘Good trip?’ Jack’s gaze narrowed.
‘Wonderful.’
She looked fantastic. Shining. It was the only word Jack could think of to describe her. And she had a new hairstyle. A spike of resentment startled him. But surely it was justified? He’d been here worrying his guts out about her wellbeing, when she’d been off, obviously having a fine old time in merry England.
‘Darcie, hi!’ Diplomatically, Natalie jumped in to fill the yawning gap. ‘Welcome back. It’s good to see you.’
‘And you, Nat. And I have presents for everyone,’ Darcie singsonged.
‘Oh, my stars!’ Natalie’s hand went to her heart. ‘From London?’
‘Of course.’ Darcie was smiling.
‘That’s so cool.’
‘Could we get on?’ Jack yanked his gloves on. He’d had enough of the small talk.
‘What do we have?’ Darcie directed her question to Natalie.
‘Two youngsters, two split eyebrows, two suturing jobs.’
‘I’ll do one.’ Darcie looked directly at Jack. ‘Is that OK?’
‘If you have the time.’ Jack elbowed his way out of the door.
Natalie looked helplessly after him. ‘I don’t think Jack’s been sleeping very well.’
And that was supposedly her fault? Darcie went to the basin. Suddenly her legs felt like jelly. ‘Nat, if you’ve arranged to assist Jack, go ahead. I’m sure I can manage a few sutures.’
‘Oh, OK...’ Natalie’s voice faltered. ‘It’s so great to have you back, Darcie.’
‘Thanks, Nat...’ Darcie blew out a calming breath. She’d been buoyed up by excitement, coming back. Now jet lag was suddenly beginning to catch up with her, leaving her flat. She’d sought to surprise Jack but that had obviously backfired. She gave vent to a sigh. Why was nothing in life ever simple? Drying her hands, she shook out a pair of sterile gloves from their packet and went to find her patient.
Darcie did her usual careful job, nevertheless. Placing four stitches in her young patient’s wound didn’t take long. She completed his treatment chart and handed him over to his mother with instructions to come back in a week to have the stitches removed.
Oh, boy. She wiggled her fingers stiffly. She must be more tired than she’d thought. But she was determined to wait for Jack. She looked at her watch. It was already late afternoon. Perhaps a cup of tea would revive her. Decision made, she went along to the hospital kitchen.
It was there Jack found her.
‘You look like hell,’ he said bluntly.
She brought her chin up. ‘Fancy that.’
Jack’s mouth crimped around a reluctant smile. He put out a hand towards her. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Outside the air was clear and sharp. Darcie felt a slight dizziness overtake her, the ground coming up to meet her. ‘Oh...’
‘You’re out on your feet,’ he growled, wrapping a supporting arm around her shoulders. ‘When did you fly in?’
‘Very early this morning,’ she said, wondering why her eyelids felt weighted down. ‘But then I had to coordinate two flights to get home to Sunday Creek.’
‘No wonder your body clock’s out of whack. You need sleep.’ He stopped at his Land Rover and opened the passenger door. Scooping her up, he lifted her in.
‘Did you miss me?’ She mumbled the words against his shoulder as he settled in beside her.
‘You bet I did.’ His gaze softened. ‘I should never have let you go without me. Did you miss me?’ He turned his head, waiting for her answer, but she was already asleep.
* * *
Darcie woke to silence and the gentlest breeze wafting through the partly open window. Blinking uncertainly, she half raised her head. Where was she? She looked around at the unfamiliar prints on the walls, the white linen blinds. And then reality struck. She was in one of the guest bedrooms in Jack’s house.
She muffled a groan into the pillow. He must have got her to bed after they’d left the hospital. What else had he done? Cautiously, she put a hand under the duvet and touched the softness of the jersey pants she’d worn on the flight. Except for her shoes, he hadn’t attempted to undress her. ‘Oh, Jack...’ A smile curved gently around her mouth. ‘You are such an honourable man.’
The sharp click of the front door closing had her sitting boldly upright, pulling her knees up to her chin. ‘Jack?’ Her voice came out throatily. ‘Is that you?’
‘Ah...’ Jack’s dark head came round the door. ‘Sleeping Beauty’s awake, I see.’
Darcie blushed, watching him amble into the bedroom, his powerful masculinity making the space appear to shrink to doll’s-house proportions. ‘Good sleep?’ he asked.
‘It was. Sorry I passed out on you,’ she said ruefully. ‘What time is it?’
‘Five-ish.’
Darcie frowned. ‘Five-ish when?’
‘Sunday afternoon.’
‘You mean I’ve slept the clock round?’
He looked at her with steady eyes. ‘Jet lag will do that to you every time. How about some dinner? Hungry?’
‘Starving.’ She smiled a bit uncertainly. ‘But at the moment I need the bathroom more than I need food.’
A wry smile nipped his mouth. ‘See you in a bit, then. Oh, I swung by the residence and picked up your suitcase.’
‘Oh—thanks for that.’ She watched as he slipped out and retrieved it from the hallway.
‘I’ve made minestrone.’ He hefted her case onto the end of the bed. ‘Hurry up.’
Darcie threw herself out of bed and into the en suite. Were they back together? Properly back together? She ground her lip in consternation, letting the rose-scented gel drift silkily over her body and puddle around her feet. They hadn�
��t parted on the best of terms. Jack had clearly not been happy about her reasons for going to England. But surely he wouldn’t have brought her here to his home if he was still offside with her?
Air whistled out of her lungs, ending in an explosive little sigh as she dressed quickly. Conjecture was getting her nowhere. She left the bedroom, an odd flutter of shyness assailing her as she made her way along the short length of the hallway to the kitchen.
Jack had set places at the table. Standing for a moment, she watched him, her gaze lingering, drinking in his maleness. He was wearing a black T-shirt that delineated the tight group of muscles beneath and a pair of washed-out jeans. ‘Something smells good.’
He turned from the stove, eyeing with obvious approval her sleek black leggings and pearl-grey top. ‘Feeling better?’
‘Much.’ She joined him at the stove. ‘Anything I can do to help?’
He turned off the heat and gave the minestrone a final stir. ‘Couple of bowls might be a good idea. And there’s some multigrain rolls in that bag there. Then we’ll be in business.’
‘Another?’ Jack’s look was softly indulgent a little later as Darcie neared the end of her second bowl of soup.
‘Heavens, no!’ She gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘But that was truly delicious, Jack. Thank you.’
His mouth pulled at the corner. ‘You’re more than welcome, Darcie.’ He looked at her guardedly. ‘Coffee?’
She shook her head. ‘Perhaps later.’
He shifted awkwardly in his chair. ‘Sorry for acting like a prat when you arrived yesterday.’
Eyes cast down, she made a little circle with her finger on the tabletop. ‘Do you want to hear about my trip?’
Jack’s heart was beating like a tom-tom. Lord, how he’d missed her! And now she was back, barely centimetres away from him, her faint, delicate fragrance teasing his senses, making a mockery of his control. ‘I suppose we should get it out of the way.’ Standing to his feet, he collected their used dishes and took them across to the sink.
Darcie had the feeling of being dismissed. But not for long. She rose from the table, moving purposefully across to join him at the window, peering out. ‘The reason I went, Jack, was to come to you whole. If you want us back together, the least you can do is listen.’
Something in Jack’s heart scrunched tight. He blinked and turned his head a fraction. Her eyes were cast down, her long gold-tipped lashes fanning across her cheeks. He felt a lump the size of a lemon in his throat as he swallowed. ‘You’re right. But let’s get more comfortable, shall we?’
They went through to the lounge room. Darcie switched on the two table lamps and a gentle glow of light flooded the room. Jack held out his hand and guided her to the big, squishy sofa. Once they were seated, he looped out an arm and gathered her closely. ‘OK.’ He took a deep breath and let it go. ‘Fire away.’
Darcie’s heart quickened and she edged back so she could look him in the eye. ‘I saw Aaron.’
His jaw tightened for a moment. ‘How long did you spend with him?’
‘Not long. Needless to say, he was stunned to see me. I didn’t bother with small talk. I just hit him with everything. I let him have it all—everything I’d been feeling. How his behaviour had been reprehensible, how he’d sapped my self-worth and a whole lot more.’
Jack’s eyes burned with a strange intensity. ‘How did he react?’
‘He folded. Apologised. Several times, in fact.’ Her eyes clouded briefly. ‘I suggested he should get some specialist psychiatric help. It’s obvious he’s deeply unhappy.’
Jack sent her a guarded look. ‘How did he respond to that?’
‘He said he’s already in therapy.’ A breath of silence. ‘I...said I hoped it worked. Then I got up and left.’
‘Were you upset?’ Jack asked carefully.
‘Maybe a bit. But I felt free. It was a fantastic feeling.’
‘My gutsy, brave girl.’ Jack pulled her close again. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Wait until you hear what else I did.’
‘Good grief.’ Jack shook his head. ‘Better hit me with it then.’
‘I went to see my parents. They were actually home for once.’
‘And?’
‘I had a very frank talk with them.’ She sent him a dazzling smile. ‘On the flight over to England the thought came to me that they hadn’t shaped up very well as parents. There was you and your big loving family and you obviously had a happy childhood. Maggie doing so well as a single parent, and Nat with her husband working away so much, managing to keep her little girl safe and happy. And my parents took none of the responsibility that comes with parenthood. They’re bright people. They should have known.’
Jack blinked and blinked again. Sweet heaven, she was lovely. His gaze slid softly over her. ‘So, what was the outcome?’
‘For the first time we sat together like a family. And we talked. Really talked.’ Darcie’s mouth wobbled a bit. ‘They both apologised for their lack of involvement but assured me over and over that they’d always loved me. And Mum cried. And Dad called me his darling girl.’
Jack’s throat constricted. ‘You continue to amaze me, Darcie.’ He held her more closely, his lips making feathery kisses over her temple. ‘So you had your big talk. Then what? Dare I ask?’
‘They’re coming to our wedding!’
Jack looked at her, startled.
Her breath caught. ‘That’s if you still want to marry me...?’
‘Oh, God, yes!’ he said hoarsely. ‘With bells on.’ In one liquid movement he hauled them both upright. In a second their bodies were surging together like breakers dashing to the shore.
They kissed once, fiercely, possessively. And again. This time slowly, languidly, taking all the time in the world to savour each other. To reconnect.
On a little whimper Darcie burrowed closer, drinking him in, feeling the absorption of his scent in her nostrils, through her skin.
When they drew apart, they stared at one another, the moment almost surreal. ‘We’re getting married,’ Jack said.
‘Yes.’ She reached up and drew her finger along his throat and into the hollow at its base. ‘And I want everything, Jack. A real outback wedding. I want our little bush church decorated with masses of flowers, big bows on the seats and the church filled with family and friends.’
Jack looked bemused. ‘And after?’
‘We’ll hire a marquee and find somewhere special to put it. And we’ll have fairy-lights and maybe a dance floor and glorious food.’
Jack’s eyes went wide in alarm. ‘I won’t have to cook, will I?’
Darcie snickered. ‘Of course not. We’ll fly caterers out from Brisbane if we have to. And don’t look like that,’ she chided gently. ‘My parents are paying for everything. I bought a wedding dress in London,’ she added shyly. ‘I hope you’ll like me in it.’
‘Of course I’ll like you in it.’ There was a gleam in his blue eyes. ‘And out of it too.’
Darcie laughed, feeling the warm flood of desire ripple through her body. ‘We just have to make a date, then.’
‘Let’s leave that for tomorrow. Right now, we need to be doing other things. Don’t you agree...?’
‘I agree, Jack.’ The catch in his voice told her everything she needed to hear. A slow, radiant smile lit her face as she slipped her hands under his T-shirt, loving the smooth sweep of his skin against her palms. Loving him. ‘Now,’ she enticed coyly, ‘come and unwrap your present.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS A perfect day for a wedding.
‘Darcie, could you possibly stand still for a half a second?’ Maggie did a slow inspection around the now dressed bride. They were at the residence with barely fifteen minutes left before they were to leave for the church.
> ‘I’m so happy I could burst, Maggie.’
‘Don’t do that,’ Maggie pleaded. ‘I’d have to fasten these tiny buttons all over again.’
‘What do you think of the dress?’ Darcie posed in front of the full-length mirror. ‘Does it look OK?’
‘OK?’ Maggie’s voice went up an octave. The dress was a stylish combination of silk and hand-made lace with a fitted bodice, tiny cap sleeves and slim-cut skirt. ‘Honey, you look stunning.’ Maggie’s gaze had a misty look. ‘Jack’s eyes will be out on stalks.’
‘That’s if he can see at all,’ Darcie said dryly. ‘I can’t believe his brothers hauled him off to the pub for a buck’s do the night before the wedding!’
‘Well, boys will be boys,’ Maggie countered practically. ‘And, anyway, Jack stuck to the soft stuff mostly, according to Sam.’
‘Mmm.’ Darcie didn’t seem convinced.
‘Oh, Darce.’ Maggie laughed. ‘Relax, would you? Even if Jack ended up a bit tipsy, he’s had all day to sleep it off.’
Darcie gave a reluctant chuckle. ‘Then it’s lucky we decided to have the wedding in the late afternoon, wasn’t it? For everyone’s sake.’ She paused and sobered. ‘Maggie, thank you so much for standing up with me and for your endless kindness and friendship.’
‘Oh, tosh.’ Maggie shook her dark head. ‘Friendship is a two-way street. And yours has been invaluable to me as well. Now, hush up.’ She gave an off-key laugh. ‘Or we’ll both be bawling and ruining our make-up. Shame you’re not getting a honeymoon, though.’
‘Price of being doctors in the outback.’ Darcie looked philosophical. ‘But we’re getting a couple of nights away. Jack’s arranged for someone to fly us across to the coast. Posh hotel and all the trimmings.’
‘Oh, yes...’ Maggie waggled her eyebrows. ‘Breakfast in bed?’
Darcie’s face went pink. ‘All that. I’m so happy, Maggie.’
‘Sweetie, you deserve it.’ Maggie’s look turned soft. ‘Oh, I meant to ask, how are your parents enjoying Sunday Creek?’