by Lucy Clark
Her smile was delightful, the curve of her lips only enticing him more than he cared to admit. Her eyes sparkled with an intensity he didn’t want to know about. Her flowery scent wound its way about him, making him crazy for her.
How was it that in the past he’d been able to easily fight attractions to other women, never once making a dent in his resolve to never marry and to keep Marta’s memory alive? What was it about Emmy that made him want to slip his arm around her, pull her towards him and press his mouth to hers once again? Why should she be any different from other women?
Because she was.
There was no logic in the answer, just as there was no logic in the question. He was attracted to her and perhaps the sooner he stopped trying to deny it, the sooner he would be able to gain control over this temporary infatuation and get back to his normal life where he could happily brood about his lost love all he wanted.
‘Please don’t look at me like that, Dart,’ Emmy said softly, and it was only then he realised he was still staring at her.
‘I can’t help it.’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He made no effort to touch her, to hold her hand, to cup her face in his and press his mouth to hers, which she was becoming desperate for him to do.
‘I’m drawn to you, Emmy. Believe me, I don’t want to be but I am.’
She frowned a little at that, feeling a touch insulted. It carried through in her tone. ‘Good to know reluctance is still alive and well.’
‘Look, all I meant was that we come from different worlds. You’ll be gone in another few days, back to Australia, back to your life in front of the camera, working for a television network and doing…whatever else it is that you do.’
His tone, his words made it all sound so glamorous when in reality, it was a way she’d devised to live so no one knew just how lonely she really was.
‘Nothing.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I do nothing.’
Dart frowned. ‘Yes, you do. You do excellent work for charities and…and you help people just by being there, by listening to them.’ He felt a little out of depth as he spoke, given that all he really knew of her life was the few snippets he’d caught in the press over the years. Still, he didn’t want her to think that he’d been trying to attack her with his words. Quite the opposite.
‘Your story here, what you’re filming now, will help people in Australia to know all about Tarparnii and how they can help out. Australians are a giving people and always come through for a good and noble cause such as this. You’re a big part of that, not only giving of yourself but making sure issues aren’t swept beneath the carpet.’
‘Now you’re making me sound like a saint and that I am definitely not.’ There was a hint of hope in her tone, the desolation starting to slip away, and she couldn’t believe how much of an influence Dart’s words had on her. His opinion of her mattered. That’s what she realised in that moment. She cared, probably far too much, what he thought of her.
Pleased he’d made her smile again, Dart took her hand in his. ‘Emmy, I think you’re an incredible woman and, yes, there is an attraction between us—a rather strong one given the past twenty-four hours—but—’
‘We can’t let it get the better of us,’ she finished for him, nodding slowly, trying desperately not to react to the warmth of his hand. Just one simple touch from him and she was again reduced to a quivering mass of uselessness.
‘I can’t do my job properly and neither can you,’ he continued, rubbing his thumb tenderly over her knuckles.
‘We need to concentrate,’ she agreed, and looked from their entwined hands up to his face, his brown eyes reflecting the deep and powerful sensations he felt for her. It was almost enough to make her renege on the words she’d just uttered. What she wanted was for him to lean down and press his mouth to hers, to kiss her not with the soft sweetness from this morning but with the powerful, animalistic need that she could feel was simmering beneath the surface in both of them.
She swallowed. ‘Friends?’
‘Friends is good.’ He gave her hand a little squeeze and smiled, hoping she couldn’t read in his expression that he wanted to be far more than just friends with her.
As the trucks slowed, turning off the road, such as it was, and heading into the jungle towards the village, Dart reluctantly let go of Emmy’s hand before both of them looked straight ahead, willing themselves to focus on the job at hand but both finding it impossible to think of anything else but each other.
Chapter Nine
FOR Emmy, arriving in a different village, one that was much smaller than Jalak and Meeree’s, was an adventure. She greeted the people in the way Meeree had taught her, holding both their hands and moving them in a little circle, as was the traditional Tarparniian greeting. She was able to greet their hosts in their native language and even managed to pick up a few words here and there as other people gathered around, eager to be on camera.
As Dart watched her, he realised that Emmy was indeed a great diplomat. She was happy, joyful and utterly charming, the village elders warming instantly to her. She could put people at ease with her sweet smile, the language barrier not necessarily a barrier.
She was a giver. Emerson-Rose may have been raised by her parents to be the perfect hostess, the perfect patroness, the perfect representative for her father’s company, but she was now using those skills to bring brightness and sunshine to a small village in the middle of a country where there wasn’t usually a lot of happiness. She was quite a woman.
‘They’re not shy,’ he heard her say, laughing, as the children all danced and jumped up and down, wanting desperately to be filmed. After a few more minutes she left her camera and sound colleagues to do their thing and went to help Dart and the others set up the large canvas tents that would be their clinic rooms for the next two days.
‘Is Tarvon in charge of this mission, too?’ she asked quietly as she hefted a medical container from the truck, walking alongside Dart who was carrying two containers at once. She tried not to focus on the way the manual labour tautened his incredible upper body, his muscles pressing against the material of his cotton shirt as though straining to break free.
‘Yes. This will be his final test, so to speak. A two-day clinic.’
‘You’re the examiner?’
Dart shrugged nonchalantly. ‘You could put it that way. Tarvon is incredibly talented and has been working both here and overseas with PMA for a few years now, but he’s never wanted to take a leadership role until recently.’
Emmy nodded. ‘How interesting. I had no idea how extensive the training was for a supervisory role.’
‘Journalistic instincts at work?’
‘It’s good to know that PMA takes its medical responsibilities seriously. That’s something that should be reported in the segments we’ll be putting on air.’
‘Agreed.’
They put the containers down and continued setting things up—tables, wash basins, towels, medical supplies. Just after midday the set-up was completed and the team ready for business. They all sat down and had a quick lunch, eating the dry supplies they’d brought with them, as well as having a quick cup of instant coffee.
‘Do you usually bring all your own food?’ she asked.
Dart nodded. ‘It’s wrong to come into a village, offer help and then expect to be fed. PMA provides us with what we need, even if it is freeze-dried. The villagers, especially in a smaller village like this, sometimes don’t even have enough to feed themselves.’
Emmy nodded and finished off her coffee.
‘So? Are you ready?’ Dart asked her as they started to pack away the food supplies.
‘For?’
‘The clinic.’
‘Will I be working with you again?’
‘No. You’re a qualified doctor, Emmy. You’ve shown me that you’re more than capable of helping out.’
Emmy stilled at his words, a little surprised that he was giving her this oppo
rtunity.
‘If you have a problem with the language barrier, just ask one of us, or, if we’re busy, P’Ko-lat can translate for you.’ Dart continued, unaware that he’d said anything to stun Emmy.
Confusion and uncertainty, mixed with determination and honour, flooded through her. ‘You really think I can do this?’ The question was soft and only then did Dart look at her.
‘Of course I do. If I didn’t think you were skilled enough, I’d say so.’
Emmy couldn’t believe the amount of pride she felt at his words. Dart believed in her. Dart thought she was more than capable, skilled enough to handle patients of her own. She knew how tough conditions could be out here and he thought she was ready.
‘Thank you, Dart. I won’t let you down.’ Her words were filled with happiness as well as urgent determination, her hands clasped excitedly before her.
‘Good, because it’s going to be one humdinger of a clinic. Just when there’s a lull, another group of people come.’
‘How do they know it’s on? I mean, there’s no way to advertise. Do they use calendars? Day planners?’ She laughed at her own words.
‘Word of mouth has always been the most effective form of advertising and as far as calendars go, it’s more a case of every fourteen sunrises, there’s a clinic, so to speak.’
They would all be working in the large tents together, several areas having been set up for the patients to be treated. It was similar to footage she’d seen on television of medical tents during the Second World War.
J’tagnan and his mother were sitting in a hut with some of the other women, the baby having been strapped into a papoose to his mother’s front, making it easier for her to carry and care for him. Dart had already told Emmy that they would be travelling to J’tagnan’s village tomorrow where the new babe would have a welcoming ceremony.
‘Something else for your cameras to film. It will surely tug at a lot of heartstrings when people in Australia see just how precious each child is here. Each village takes care of its own and there is no one family more important than any other. Everyone has a job in the village, everyone takes care of each other. It’s the truest form of a community.’
Emmy was still reflecting on his words, seeing for herself the way people were welcomed, the way everyone was supported. It was an amazingly simple way of living. No rich, no poor…just equals.
As people started to arrive and the clinics officially began, Emmy also noted that all the people in the host village allowed others to go before them. Again, it was simply another indication of how polite the Tarparniians were and how they cared for each other.
There were several cuts, scratches and bruises to be attended to, which, in a general medical practice in Australia, would be treated in the common way, but out here, where there was a lack of running water, clean bandages and constant hygienic practices, it meant that a simple cut or scratch could turn sceptic quite easily.
Emmy lost count of the number of wounds she debrided, bandaged and issued doses of penicillin for to guard against infection. Her earlier enthusiasm was replaced with exhaustion as well as a quiet sense of achievement. P’Ko-lat had been great in leading patients to her and explaining exactly what their medical needs were.
So many came for immunisations, a lot of pregnant women came for checks on their babies, wanting reassurance from the doctors. A large proportion of their patients were female, older men—usually coming along to protect the women but really wanting to receive treatment for one thing or another—and children of all ages.
‘Why aren’t there young men?’ Emmy asked Dart during one of their breaks. They both eagerly sipped cups of fresh nectar that the villagers had prepared for them as a gesture of thanks.
‘Young men are the same the world over. They think they’re invincible.’ He smiled, then sobered. ‘They’ve gone to earn money. Either taking jobs in the larger cities or joining the soldiers to help fight for their country.’
‘That makes no sense at all.’
Dart shrugged. ‘If you start to ask why, if you look for rationalities in any war, your head is likely to explode.’ He finished his drink. ‘And then, Dr Jofille, it will be up to me to patch you back together again.’
‘I can think of worse things,’ she said softly, and wasn’t sure he’d heard as he didn’t immediately look her way. Slowly, though, he raised his head and their gazes met. Brown eyes met blue as the world around them fell away. How was it that she was able to make him forget everything but the burning need and desire coursing through him?
They’d already agreed that this instant attraction was going to lead them nowhere and that they were far better off being just friends, getting to know each other more, yet he had a sudden flash of insight that they might not be able to turn their growing feelings for each other off so conveniently.
‘This is quite intense, isn’t it?’ Emmy was the first to speak as she put her cup down and walked towards him. Dart found that he couldn’t move. His eyes were trained on hers, his body aware of the graceful moves she made, his head filled with only her.
‘Friends. We said we’d be friends.’ His words were quiet and he idly wondered why right at this moment there weren’t any other people around in the food hut. Why couldn’t they be interrupted? Why couldn’t they focus on what they were supposed to be doing?
‘Friends is good.’ She reiterated his earlier words but didn’t stop advancing towards him. ‘I’m no expert, Dart, but I have the feeling that attraction like this doesn’t come along every day.’
‘No.’
‘Sometimes it’s one-sided.’
‘Sometimes it’s not.’ His gaze was still riveted on hers, conscious of the way his body’s response was increasing with every move she made towards him. Heat ran up and down his spine and his body tensed, his jaw clenching as he worked hard to control the effect she had on him. The only thing that made him feel slightly better was the fact that Emmy apparently felt the same way.
He didn’t think she was the type of woman to lead a man on, especially not in their present surroundings. Most people joined PMA with not only a need to provide medical assistance where it was required most but also as a means of escaping their own lives. On a personal level, Dart knew exactly how that felt, given that in helping others, it helped him to forget the pain of his own past.
They most certainly didn’t join with the intention of finding a life partner. Besides, he had to keep reminding himself that Emmy wasn’t here as a member of PMA but was attached in a journalistic capacity in order to film the life of the Tarparniians, and while her motives for the documentary might be pure in that she really did have the desire to help, he would still be wise to keep his distance. Both of them were leaving the country very soon. His current contract with PMA was up and Emmy’s week-long project would end. Being here, away from the rigours and confusion that accompanied everyday life in Australia, wasn’t really real.
Yet as she continued advancing towards him, her sweet, inviting scent reminding him of lazy relaxed evenings, he realised he was having trouble keeping rational thoughts uppermost in his mind. Her eyes told him that she wanted his mouth against hers, her lips parted as though in complete agreement, her body swayed slightly as she sashayed towards him.
‘This is ludicrous,’ he managed to choke out, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop himself from touching her.
‘I know, and at the same time I can’t seem to help myself.’ Her breathing had increased and the closer she inched towards him, the faster her heart seemed to pound. He wasn’t walking away. Surely that was a good sign. He wasn’t turning on his heel and stalking from the hut, even though she knew he had every right to do that.
In some ways she wished he would, to have the self-control she most certainly didn’t seem to have, but on another level she was ecstatic that he wasn’t walking away, that although he stood there with his hands in his pockets, no doubt to help him to resist touching her, he still wasn’t about to turn tail and
run.
She had to admit she found it powerfully exciting being the one to pursue a man. Usually, she had men fawning all over her but she knew that was because they were more interested in her money than her on a personal level. Not so with Dart. She knew money meant nothing to him, that strong character, good morals and ethics were far more important to this man who had such sadness behind his eyes.
‘You look at me as though you can’t get enough of me. I can feel your gaze on me, like the sun kissing my skin. It’s there as I talk to other people, as I move around the village, as I treat patients.’
‘Er…sorry.’ He cleared his throat, his words soft. ‘I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’
Emmy smiled at that. ‘You don’t.’ She came to stand before him and reached up to brush a lock of hair back from his forehead. ‘You make me feel special, desirable, sexy.’
‘Emmy, don’t say things like that.’ His tone was husky, he couldn’t hide it.
‘Why not? It’s true, Dart.’ She lifted one of his hands from his pocket, pleased when he didn’t stop her, and placed it at her waist. This was the most forward she’d ever been with any man and while part of her couldn’t believe what she was doing, the rest of her felt completely liberated, as though here was a man she could be completely honest with and he wasn’t going to push her away. All her life, with her parents, with her nannies and even, to an extent, with her brother, Emmy had been required to keep the real her, the part that was filled with such yearning, such need, hidden from people in a bid for self-preservation.
Now, here, with Dart, she felt as though she could finally be free of that, be herself, be the real Emmy who had been sitting in the dark for far too long.
‘I have been restricted by what I can and cannot say for most of my life.’ She continued to speak softly, gently touching, caressing his face, learning the contours and committing them to memory.