by Lucy Clark
Mike looked at her firmly, then took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’ll not let you down, girl,’ he promised, his voice choking with a mixture of determination, sincerity and love.
Edna hugged Stacey. ‘It’s perfect timing that you’re back. We need you and you need us. It’s right that you’re back where you belong.’
And that was exactly how Stacey felt as she walked into her clinic on Friday morning, four weeks after taking it over. Coming home to Newcastle had been the right decision, although Jasmine would probably disagree.
As she walked through the clinic, switching on various machines to warm them up, Stacey was surprised to find Pierce in his consulting room, given it had only just gone seven o’clock. She stopped by his open door. ‘Good morning. You look as though you’ve been here half the night.’
He looked up from his computer screen and smiled at her as she walked in, coming to stand near his desk. ‘No. Just half an hour or so. I was just finishing up an article I promised I’d write for the team at Yale.’
‘Yale? Yale as in the prestigious American university?’
‘Yes. Presently the team there are leading the world when it comes to understanding autism and autism spectrum disorders, but there’s still so much we don’t know about adult autism.’
‘Which is where you come in?’
‘Sort of.’
‘As I’ve mentioned, I’ve read your articles. They’re good.’
‘Thank you.’ He used the computer mouse and clicked a few times before switching off his monitor. ‘At any rate, the article is now done and on its way to Professor Smith for his approval.’
‘I’m sure he’ll do more than approve. Have you worked with the Yale team for long?’
Pierce nodded as he stood from his chair, linking his hands behind his back and pulling downwards. Stacey tried not to stare.
‘For quite a while.’
‘I’m surprised they haven’t offered you a job.’
‘Well…’ He shrugged, then lifted his hands over his head.
Stacey had been about to ask him some more questions, but the words didn’t make it as far as her lips as all she was conscious of was the way his trousers dipped and his white and blue striped shirt rose up. He hadn’t bothered to tuck it in and she was treated to a glimpse of his firm, smooth abdominals. Good heavens! Did the man work out every day?
She curled her fingers into her palms in an attempt to stop her itching need to walk over to him and feel just how firm those abs really were. Stacey swallowed, her lips parting to allow the pent-up air to escape, only then realising that her heart-rate had increased, and her breathing was more shallow than normal.
It wasn’t until he lowered his hands, the shirt sliding back into place, that she realised she hadn’t heard a word he’d said—if he’d said anything at all. Quickly she raised her gaze to meet his, hoping he hadn’t noticed she’d been openly ogling him. He raised an eyebrow and she noticed a soft, slow smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t a teasing smile but one of interest.
Interest? He was interested that she’d been ogling him? Mortification ripped through her and she quickly looked away.
‘Stacey?’
She headed towards the door, unable to look at him. ‘Yeah?’
‘Stacey…’
His tone was a little more urgent and she stopped in her tracks before glancing at him over her shoulder. She swallowed.
‘Er…’ She cleared her throat, unable to control her rapid breathing.
He walked over to her and stood quite near. She wished he hadn’t, because as soon as she breathed in, hoping to gain some sort of control over her wayward senses, all she was aware of was the fresh spicy scent which surrounded him. That and the warmth emanating from him made for a heady combination. The breath she exhaled was jittery and, knowing it probably gave him every indication that she was highly aware of him, Stacey sighed with veiled embarrassment and closed her eyes.
What must he think of her? First she’d ogled him and now she was behaving like a complete ninny, all flustered by his nearness. Her mind had gone completely blank—except for the image of him standing there, stretching his arms above his head.
‘Stacey?’
‘Hmm?’ Her eyes snapped open and she realised with a start that he’d actually moved closer than before. When he reached out a hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear she gasped, her body starting to tremble not only at his nearness but at the way he’d touched her with such tenderness.
His fingers trailed slowly down her cheek. His gaze firmly locked with hers. It was as though they were in their own private world, just the two of them, time standing still. With her heartbeat thrumming wildly within her ears, she idly wondered if he could hear it.
‘Your hair is so soft.’
His words were barely a whisper, but they made her tremble with the realisation that perhaps she wasn’t the only one experiencing emotions of awareness. Then again, maybe Pierce gave out random compliments to women as part and parcel of his personality.
‘Erm…thank you.’ Her words were a little stilted, due to the lack of oxygen reaching her brain simply because of his touch. She needed to move, needed to put some distance between them, and when Pierce dropped his hand back to his side, still staring at her as though he wanted nothing more than to stand there and look into her blue eyes for the rest of the day, she forced herself to edge back.
Unfortunately she hadn’t realised how close she was to the door frame and bumped into it.
‘Oops.’
‘Are you OK?’ He put out a hand to steady her.
Stacey cleared her throat and nodded, not trusting her voice not to betray the way he made her feel. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the hallway leading to the kitchen. Pierce smiled, as though he knew exactly what was going on, as though he understood exactly why she was unable to speak, and by the delight which was still in his eyes it appeared he really didn’t mind at all.
Stacey turned, sighing harshly—more at her own foolishness than anything else—and made her way to the kitchen. Coffee. If she had a coffee perhaps she’d be able to think more clearly.
She sensed rather than felt him following her, so abruptly changed her mind and took a detour into her consulting room. Now that she didn’t have his hypnotic scent winding its way around her, or the warmth of his body so near to her own, or the touch of his fingers sliding through her shoulder-length brown hair, Stacey rebooted her brain and forced herself to speak as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
‘I’ll just put my bag down,’ she called.
‘Right. I’ll switch the coffeemaker on so it can warm up,’ he returned.
She almost laughed at the absurdity of their conversation. Polite, professional, impersonal. They were colleagues and new friends, and none of that meant they should be staring deeply into each other’s eyes like lovestruck teenagers!
After taking a few calming breaths, Stacey squared her shoulders and walked into the kitchen, determined to focus on one thing—coffee.
‘Is the machine ready yet?’ She barely spared him a passing glance as she went to the fridge for the milk, noticing he’d already placed two cups on the bench.
‘Stacey—what just happened?’
She turned and glared at him, almost dropping the milk. ‘What do you mean?’
Pierce waved one hand in the air. ‘You ogled me. I caressed your hair. Surely you haven’t forgotten already?’
She closed her eyes for one long moment, trying to suppress the tingles and nerves and flutterings of desire she could feel returning. The coffee machine dinged, signifying that it was ready to use. Glad of something to do, Stacey worked on automatic pilot to produce two coffees, adding milk to her own and letting him sugar his coffee himself.
‘Like any normal person, when they experience a situation which makes them feel mildly uncomfortable and self-conscious, I had planned to forget it, actually.’ She
forced herself to meet his gaze, even though it was incredibly difficult, and was proud of herself for accomplishing the task. ‘Clearly you feel otherwise. So—all right—let’s discuss it.’
‘Are you always so amenable to doing what everyone else wants?’ Pierce stirred sugar into his drink, watching her closely.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you don’t want to talk about those amazing few moments when I invaded your personal space and lost all self-control by touching your hair, and I do.’
As he spoke Stacey felt the fire she’d only just managed to get under control ignite again. They’d known each other for almost a month now, had been working side by side. They’d cared for their patients, met each other’s families, shared meals together and she’d learned a lot about him in such a short space of time—especially about the way he treated others. She had to admit that Pierce was quite a man when it came to conversing easily…just as he was doing with her now. The way he could so openly admit that he wanted to touch her hair, be so self-assured, was an admirable quality.
‘What I want,’ Stacey finally replied as she picked up her coffee cup and held it in front of her, as though she could hide behind it, ‘is to take the shortest possible route back to rational thought, which will undoubtedly promote a comfortable working atmosphere. Hence why I was going to push the…you…invading…personal space thing…to the back of my mind and pretend it never happened.’
Pierce leaned a little closer, invading that barrier again. ‘But it did.’
His rich, deep baritone caused vibrating tingles to flood through her.
‘What if I want to touch your hair again? What if I want to caress your beautiful smooth skin?’
He breathed out slowly, his words unhurried, and she found it difficult to look away from his hypnotic gaze. Was that what he wanted to do? Really?
‘What if I want to run my thumb over your lips…?’ He stared at her mouth for a good few intoxicating seconds as he continued to speak. ‘What if I want to watch them part with the anticipation of feeling my lips pressed against them?’
Her eyes widened at his words and she couldn’t help flicking her gaze between his mouth and his eyes, wondering if he was being serious, wondering if he was just teasing, wondering if he actually meant every word he was saying and was about to follow through with a demonstration. The nervous knots caused by his close proximity and her secret need to have him do exactly as he said tightened in her belly.
It was there. The attraction she’d been trying to fight could no longer be denied—not now that he’d spoken so openly about it.
Her tongue slipped out to wet her pink lips and she watched as Pierce’s gaze took in the process. A slow, deep sigh was drawn from him. He stood there for another half a minute, his jaw clenching a few times, as though he was trying desperately to control some inner urge—even though he was still invading her personal space, still holding his coffee cup in front of him as though in need of protection from his own emotions, just as she was.
‘But you’re probably right,’ he remarked in his normal tone, before swallowing a few times, his Adam’s apple working its way up and down his throat above his open-necked shirt. He took two steps back, determined and sure-footed. ‘Perhaps it is best if we ignore this attraction…’
He gave her a lopsided grin which did absolutely nothing to settle her nerves.
‘At least for now. Winifred will be in soon, as will our plethora of patients, and we both have work to accomplish before that happens.’
Then, with a nod, he turned and walked from the kitchen, whistling as though nothing untoward or life-changing had just happened. Stacey watched him go with a mixture of confusion, uncertainty and heightened sensuality.
She shook her head. ‘What on earth just happened?’
*
As though by some unspoken mutual agreement, Stacey and Pierce kept their distance from each other for the rest of the day. Friday clinic sessions were usually hectic, and that evening when she finally arrived home after finishing off the paperwork, long after everyone else had left, Stacey collapsed onto the sofa.
‘Whatcha doin’, Stace?’ Lydia asked as she came over and sat on her sister.
‘Ugh. What have you been eating?’ Stacey asked as she pulled the girl into her arms. ‘You’re so heavy.’
‘Jaz bought us chicken schn—’
‘Schnitzel,’ Stacey supplied.
‘With vegetables from the chicken shop. It was super-yum. There’s a plate of food for you and Molly. George and I put it together and put some plastic wrap on it.’
‘Thank you, Lyds.’ Stacey hugged her sister. ‘How grown-up of you.’
‘George and I ate at the table, but Jaz got angry at nothing and took her dinner to her room.’
Stacey frowned at this news, making a mental note to check Jasmine’s room later on, hoping to find an empty plate. This wasn’t the first time Jasmine had taken her food to her room to eat. It had started a month or two after their parents’ death. Molly had wondered whether their sister was in danger of anorexia or bulimia, but Cora had assured them both that Jasmine was eating. However, since Cora had left for Tarparnii Jasmine had become even more withdrawn. Stacey guessed that any change—and Jasmine had certainly had a few—was difficult for her to cope with.
‘Why is she like that? Angry at nothing?’ Lydia asked, her words filled with innocent confusion. ‘Am I gonna be like that when I become a teenager?’
Stacey smiled and kissed Lydia’s cheek. ‘No. You might get a little moody every now and then, but Jaz is…confused. She can’t understand why Mum and Dad died.’
‘I can. It’s because the angels needed help in heaven and they chose the two best people for the job.’
Stacey’s eyes filled with tears at Lydia’s words. She hugged her sister close again, wanting to absorb that innocence and hold onto it for as long as possible.
‘That’s beautiful, Lyddie,’ Molly said from the doorway, instantly coming over to kneel on the floor beside the sofa.
‘It is,’ Stacey replied.
Lydia scrambled out of Stacey’s arms and flung herself at Molly. ‘There’s chicken schnotzel in the kitchen. George and I made a plate of food for you and Stacey.’
Molly hooted with laughter and stood, whizzing Lydia around in her arms. ‘Schnotzel, eh? Thank goodness you kept it safe. Come on, Stace. We’d best go eat our schnotzel.’
Stacey giggled as she hefted herself from the sofa, feeling less exhausted than when she’d walked through the door. Glad it was Friday night and she could stay up a bit later, Lydia went off to play with George while the two women sat eating in peace.
Molly looked closely at her sister. ‘So… Interesting day?’
‘Full day. Lots of patients. Lots of hay fever and sinus problems. Plus there seems to be a gastro bug making the rounds.’
‘Yeah. A few bad cases came in to the hospital when I was in the emergency department just before I left—although it could have been food poisoning. I’ll check later on, when I head back.’
‘You’re on call tonight?’
Molly shook her head. ‘Just early tomorrow morning. Split shift. The work of a surgical registrar is never done—which is why, when we get the time, we high-tail it back home to enjoy some chicken schnotzel for dinner and to catch up on sleep. And we don’t feel at all sorry for the poor doctors we leave behind to cope—like Pierce.’
‘Pierce?’ Stacey sat up a little straighter in her chair. ‘He’s doing a shift in the ED tonight?’
‘Yeah. He said someone wanted to switch with him and he was fine with that.’
‘He’s doing a night shift?’
‘Yes. What’s the problem with that?’
‘Oh. Nothing. He was just in very early this morning at the clinic.’
Molly raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘Worried about the man’s sleeping habits?’
Stacey looked down at her meal, knowing if she kept looking at Molly she’d soon
be spilling the beans about what had occurred between them that morning. ‘He’s an employee…sort of. So of course I’d be concerned about his lack of sleep. I mean, I wouldn’t want him doing house calls or treating patients when he’s half asleep, now, would I?’
‘No. No. Of course not.’
Molly stared at her sister and Stacey looked back across at her.
‘What?’
‘Is that the only reason why you’re so concerned about him?’
‘Yes.’ The word was high-pitched, and sounded false even to her own ears.
‘Or is it because the two of you…shared a moment?’
Stacey’s eyes widened. ‘How could you possibly know that?’ she squeaked, her knife and fork clattering to her plate. She leaned forward and said in a softer tone, ‘What did he tell you? What did he say?’
Molly grinned wildly at her sister and slowly forked another mouthful of chicken into her mouth. She chewed with equal slowness and swallowed before shaking her head from side to side. ‘Pierce didn’t say anything. You just confirmed a hunch I had—especially after watching the two of you together last weekend at dinner. You were both so cute, so friendly, but with…something more buzzing between you which neither of you wanted to acknowledge.’
‘Molly!’
‘And then tonight,’ Molly continued, as though Stacey hadn’t protested, ‘he told me three times what a great doctor he thinks you are. He’s too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell.’
‘There was no kissing,’ Stacey pointed out.
‘But you wanted there to be, didn’t you?’
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and Stacey realised there was no way in the world she could pull the wool over her sister’s eyes. Molly knew her as well as she knew herself.
She felt all the fight seep out of her. There seemed no point in denying there was an attraction existing between Pierce and herself. She sat back in her chair and momentarily covered her face with her hands, nodding in affirmation. ‘I did want him to kiss me. Oh, Molly.’ She stared at her sister. ‘What am I going to do?’