by Lucy Clark
Wong laughed. ‘I’ll bet. You want some help in the training room?’
‘Yeah. That’d be great.’
‘OK. Get changed, I’ll meet you there.’
Joe headed to his car and pulled out a bag. It was an old habit he doubted he’d ever get out of as it contained all the essentials—toothbrush, clean clothes, shaver and brush, as well as a pair of sweats for times like these. When a kid lived on the streets, he learned to pack light and pack well. Joe had lived like that for many years, with one bag containing all his major possessions in the world. Then he’d gone to America…and met Rachael. For the first time, he’d experienced a ‘possession’ he couldn’t fit into a bag.
He let Wong strap his hands before fitting the boxing gloves on top. Joe eyed the bag that hung from the low ceiling which was just waiting for his frustrations to be pounded into it. He thought about Rachael, about Declan, about how his world had just completely changed. He tapped the bag, gently testing but also not wanting to think about her when he was pummelling out his anger. She hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been the one who’d pushed her away, who’d wanted her out of his life. He couldn’t blame her for not telling him about Declan.
He could, however, blame his mother. His father. His numerous stepfathers. The welfare system. The teachers at school. The kids who had taunted him and his brother. His brother, John. John, who had followed in his big brother’s footsteps and become involved with street gangs. Joe had managed to get out of them in the end but John had died and Joe held himself responsible. He began to hit the bag with more effort and soon was pounding out his ghosts, wanting them gone from his life for ever.
He had no idea how long he’d pounded the bag but when Wong told him to slow down or he’d do himself an injury, Joe did as he was told. When they took off the gloves, the strapping around his knuckles was tinged red with blood.
‘Maybe I should have stopped you sooner.’ Wong undid the strapping and told him to go and shower. ‘Come back tomorrow. You still have lots of aggression left.’
Joe nodded and thanked his friend before heading to the showers. He let the water wash over him and although he felt weary and tired, his mind was still active with questions. Questions he wanted…no, needed answers to. There was no way he was going to sleep tonight, even after the workout, until he could get his head around what had happened today.
After he’d changed, he headed back to the clinic. Turning the alarm off, he riffled through the filing cabinet, looking for the file on Rachael. He pulled it out and noted her address, surprised to discover she was staying in a hotel. He grabbed his keys, switched off the lights and reset the alarm before driving to the address.
With determination in every step, he left the hotel lift and strode down the corridor to the room listed in her file at his medical practice. He knocked, and when she opened the door he tried not to gasp. He also tried to control the twisting of desire in his gut, but it was impossible.
Her dark, wet hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, contrasting with the white hotel robe belted at her waist. He’d seen her looking like that before and his memory was as clear as though it had been only yesterday…only yesterday when he’d removed the robe and taken his sweet time making love to his wife.
‘Oh,’ she gasped, a blush tinging her cheeks. She looked him up and down, the blush deepening. Nervously, Rachael swallowed. ‘Joe. Uh…I was expecting room service.’
Joe forced his mind to clear. ‘Look, Rach, I know you told me to decide about Declan but I can’t do that without more information.’
He watched as she switched into protective mother mode. ‘What sort of information?’
‘Can I see him?’
‘He’s not here.’
Joe hadn’t expected that. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s gone out with my parents to choose a new place for us to live.’
‘But it’s almost eight o’clock.’
‘And?’ She waited. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Er…I don’t know. Doesn’t he have homework? Need to be in bed or something?’
She laughed. ‘He’s almost fifteen, Joe, not five.’
He could feel her softening and took advantage of the situation. ‘Can I come in? Please, Rach? Just for a few minutes. My mind is in a spin.’
She glanced down at her robe, then stepped back from the door. ‘OK.’ When he walked into the room, it seemed to shrink with his overwhelming presence.
‘Nice room.’ He waved his arm absently around the space, and she caught a glimpse of his hand. The knuckles were red, cut and bruised.
‘What have you done?’ Without thinking, she crossed to his side and lifted one hand in hers. Joe jerked back instantly. ‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing. I was working out.’ He tried to control himself but her touch had burned him and her fresh, clean, scent was starting to overpower him. She smelt so good.
‘On who?’
‘Uncalled for, Rach.’
‘Yes. Sorry.’
‘I was working out on a punching bag.’
‘Oh. It’s none of my business. I’m sorry. I’ll just get dressed.’
‘No need to bother on my account.’ The words were out before he could stop them.
‘Joe!’ The blush grew even deeper, her eyes wide and round with surprise.
‘Sorry. That was way out of line.’
‘Yes. I guess we’re even now.’ She snatched up a handful of clothes and headed for the bathroom. Joe wondered what she’d do if he followed her and kissed her the way he had in the past. She’d probably throw him out and again he acknowledged she’d have every right to, but he had to admit that the attraction between the two of them was as potent as ever. He’d never been one to believe in love at first sight. He was too cynical, too wise to the ways of the world yet—bam! It had hit him like a ton of bricks the first time he’d set eyes on Rachael.
A few minutes later she came out the bathroom dressed, a white towel around her shoulders as she rubbed the ends of her hair. He’d seen her do this before and again he had to force the memories not to intrude. He was here with the purpose of getting answers, and that was exactly what he was going to do.
Joe looked out the window at the ocean view. There were other high-rise apartments and hotels to the left and right but she’d scored a great room with a relaxing view of the ocean. If he looked out the window, it meant he didn’t have to look at Rachael. She was too distracting.
‘So, what do you want to know?’
‘Why you didn’t tell me?’
‘I tried, Joe.’ He turned at her words.
‘And that means?’
‘I tried to find you.’ Rachael sighed and hung the towel over the back of a chair. She bit her lip, watching him closely. ‘After I returned home from the trip…I wasn’t well. At first I thought it was just heartbreak.’ She saw him wince. ‘You wanted the truth, Joe, and I hope you still believe that with me, that’s what you’ll always get.’
He nodded but made no other comment.
‘I didn’t find out until I was four months pregnant. My body was so out of whack, what with travelling and then being so miserable when I returned. After four months my mother forced me to go to the doctor for a check-up, and that’s when I found out.’
‘That must have impressed your parents.’
She laughed without humour. ‘You have no idea. Until then, I hadn’t told them about you. They’d known something had been wrong when I’d returned, but thankfully they hadn’t pressured me about it. Now, though, there was a grandchild on the way and the whole ball game changed. So I went to Brisbane to find you.’
‘Even though you knew how I felt about children?’
‘Yes. You had a right to know, Joe.’
‘Yet you didn’t find me.’
‘You obviously didn’t want to be found,’ she countered. ‘I didn’t have much to go on and I had morning sickness throughout my entire pregnancy. By the end of the se
venth month, I had pre-eclampsia and my doctor put me in hospital until Declan was born. Anyway, I knew you had lived in Brisbane and which suburb you were raised in, but that was all I had to go on. Finding where you lived was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but I eventually found your mother’s house.’
Joe was shocked. ‘You spoke to my mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you tell her about the baby?’
‘No. I merely told her I was looking for you.’
Joe turned away from her, unable to believe she’d seen the dive where he’d grown up. In the poorest part of Brisbane, the government weatherboard house falling down around itself. The front yard littered with broken toys, bits of cars and general junk. He felt sick thinking she’d seen that side of his life, the side he’d wanted to protect her from.
‘How did she react?’
‘She said she hadn’t heard from you in over six months and that the money you usually sent had stopped coming. Joe, she thought you’d probably died.’
‘She said that?’ He looked at Rachael once more.
‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’
Joe knew she was giving him the ‘cleaned up’ version of the story. Knowing his mother, she’d have taken one look at Rachael and tried to figure out how much money she could get out of her. Even now, standing barefoot in a hotel room, she looked as though she’d stepped from a glossy magazine. The denim jeans were designer label, the powder blue top was the latest fashion. Her clothes spoke of style and money. They always had, but he also knew that clothes didn’t make the woman.
Rachael had always carried herself well. Her walk was determined, sure and purposeful. Even when she’d been eighteen, she’d had such purpose about her, and Joe had coveted it, wanting to have the confidence that exuded from her.
He was watching her again, the way he had when they’d first met. She’d always thought he’d looked at her as though he’d unwrapped a big, shiny package and wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Warmth spread through her and she felt the stirrings of repressed desire beginning to sizzle once more. How could he do that to her with just one look?
He’d always been able to make her go weak at the knees and today he’d done it several times. He was dressed in his staple outfit of blue denims and a white T-shirt. All that was missing was the well-worn leather jacket, and he’d be a dead ringer for the instant she’d first laid eyes on him. They stared at each other.
Rachael swallowed nervously, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Joe groaned as he watched the action and closed his eyes tight. His hands were by his side, also clenched tight as he fought the attraction bubbling between them.
‘Did you believe her?’ The words were ground out as he finally achieved his goal and opened his eyes. Rachael turned away and crossed to the bedside table to pick up a comb. Slowly she began to pull it through her dark locks.
‘Hmm?’
‘My mother. When she said I was dead. Did you believe her?’
Rachael remembered the scene as though it had been yesterday. Her heart had stopped for one moment before she’d instinctively known it hadn’t been true. ‘No.’
‘Did you give her any money?’
‘Joe, I don’t think this is—’
‘Did you give her money?’ he demanded.
‘Yes, but it wasn’t a lot. About eighty dollars.’
‘That would have been enough. Did she ask for it?’
‘No, but she kind of implied she needed it for your siblings.’
‘Half-siblings.’
Rachael shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
‘She would have used that money to buy alcohol. You know that, don’t you?’
‘What? No. Surely she wouldn’t. Those kids looked hungry.’
‘We were always hungry.’ Joe turned away once more. He’d been desperate to shield Rachael from his background, from the life of poverty he’d lived. She was too pure, too special, too loving to even have seen the squalor he’d been raised in.
He needed to move this on. His chest was starting to feel tight, and the longer he remained in a room alone with her, the harder it was to control himself. He wanted to grab her, to crush her to him, to press his mouth firmly on hers and see whether the old spark really was still there or whether it was just his memory playing tricks on him.
‘OK. So you saw my mother and she didn’t know where I was, so then what?’
‘Then I tried to remember everything we’d talked about and I realised how little you’d told me about yourself. Oh, I knew what made you laugh, what colour you liked…’ She lowered her voice a little. ‘…How you took your coffee.’ She shrugged. ‘That sort of thing. But when it came to you and what you’d done before you’d met me, I drew a blank. I honestly didn’t know where to look, Joe. I put an ad in the Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne papers for two months but got no response. I tried again a week or so before I had Declan but still no response. I was scared to be by myself, to be bringing a child into the world. I knew my parents were there to help and, believe me, they were incredible, but it wasn’t the same.’
Rachael could feel tears beginning to threaten once more and turned away. ‘Sorry. I should be over this by now.’
Joe wanted to go to her. To comfort her. To apologise for his callousness. But he knew that if he touched her, it would mean the end of all rational thought.
She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling herself together. ‘Anyway, to answer your original question, I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t find you. It’s as simple as that.’
‘Rach.’ He couldn’t take it any longer. He covered the distance between them and put his hands on her shoulders. She shied away and Joe winced as though she’d slapped him. She turned to look at him.
‘Don’t, Joe. Don’t touch me.’
‘Why not?’
His words were barely audible, but even if he hadn’t spoken she could read the message clearly in his eyes. He was still attracted to her and she was sure he could see she reciprocated his feelings. He edged closer. ‘Why not?’
‘Joe.’ Her heart was pounding fiercely against her chest, her breath coming out between her parted lips in shallow gasps. She shook her head as he moved even closer. ‘Joe.’ This time his name came out as a sigh and she realised her mind was quickly losing the battle to her body and she wanted nothing more than to have his arms wrapped firmly around her, their lips pressed hungrily together.
He trailed his fingers down her cheek, revelling in the smoothness of her skin. ‘You’re still so beautiful, Rach.’ He buried his other hand in her hair, unable to believe he was touching her once more.
‘Your skin is so soft.’ He brushed his thumb across her lips and almost went to pieces when she gasped at the touch. He groaned and hauled her close, wanting to kiss her but at the same time not wanting to ignite something he wasn’t sure he could control. He breathed in the scent of her hair. ‘Your hair smells amazing.’
Rachael’s eyelids fluttered closed and she clung to him, knowing she was passing the point of no return and not caring. She plunged her fingers into his hair, desperate to bring his head closer to her lips, to erase the agony of wanting him, which was gripping her entire body. ‘Joe.’ She whispered his name and slid her hands down to cup his face as she looked up into his eyes.
Something deep in the recesses of Joe’s mind tugged at him. There was still something he needed to address and it was important. He raised one hand to where she touched him and pulled her left hand away from his face. He glanced down and saw the simple gold wedding band.
Helen had mentioned his new locum was married, but with everything else which had happened today, he’d completely forgotten.
‘Joe?’ Rachael looked at him in bewilderment. ‘Joe? What’s wrong?’
Joe let his arms drop and took a step back. ‘What’s wrong? Rachael—you’re wearing a wedding ring!’
CHAPTER THREE
JOE turned away from her and stalked towards the door
. ‘How could you possibly have forgotten you were married?’
A million emotions flooded through Rachael in a matter of thirty seconds. She wanted to pull him back into her arms and tell him the ring was the same one he’d placed on her finger in that small Vegas chapel all those years ago. Another part of her wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her and let him believe she was married to someone else.
But she’d always been an honest person and regardless of how Joe made her feel, whether it be sensually desirable or flaming mad, she’d always been truthful with him. However, if she confessed it was the ring he’d given her, she’d probably be opening herself up for more hurt in the near future. Two weeks. She only had to stay at his practice for two weeks and then she could move on.
Rachael cleared her throat and flipped her hair out of her face, her chin raised with a hint of defiance. He loved it when she looked like that but he forced himself to concentrate. What possible explanation was she going to give for wearing a wedding ring and falling apart in his arms the moment he’d touched her? The attraction was there between them, it was as strong as ever, but surely not so strong that she’d forget about the man she was married to?
‘Joe, I’m not married.’
OK. That was the last thing he’d been expecting her to say. ‘But the ring?’ He pointed to her hand completely bewildered.
Rachael shrugged. ‘I didn’t like the stigmatism that went with being labelled a single mother. Nowadays it’s a common occurrence but even fifteen years ago a woman pushing a pram without wearing a wedding ring was frowned on. Medical school would have been even more of a nightmare if I’d chosen not to wear the ring. Most of my professors were quite old-fashioned.’
He understood that. He’d had quite a few who, when they’d discovered his background, had told him to forget about medical school. He’d been riled by their comments and even more determined to prove their prejudices wrong.
‘Thankfully, times have changed,’ she continued.
‘So why still wear it?’
She shrugged once more. ‘I forget it’s there most of the time.’ There was a knock at the door. ‘That’ll be room service.’