Waking Up With Dr. Off-Limits

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Waking Up With Dr. Off-Limits Page 16

by Amy Andrews


  Because this was their last night together.

  And. She was important.

  She was looking out her side of the car, her hand loosely tucked into his. Strands of blonde hair had worked free of her ponytail and whipped across her face and she seemed lost in thought as her teeth worried her bottom lip. She’d been a little quiet since the press conference and she seemed tense now too. He gave her hand a squeeze as much for his own assurance as hers.

  ‘I’ll be with you the whole time,’ he said. ‘You have my permission to tell him to push off if he gets too overbearing. In fact, it might be fun if you did.’

  She gave him a small smile. ‘I’ll be fine.’ And she returned to the view out her side of the car.

  He felt his unease ratchet up another notch. He hoped it was just the spectre of him leaving tomorrow. It had hung over both their heads, casting a further pall on an evening that was already fraught enough.

  Unfortunately it was a looming reality. The elephant in the room that they’d avoided the last few days.

  But this was his life.

  His reality.

  And despite two months stretching ahead without her, Adam was looking forward to getting amongst it again. These last weeks had been a nice break from his hectic schedule but he could feel the little thrill in his chest at the thought of getting back to work.

  Sure, he was going to miss her but he also knew that missions were intense and exceedingly demanding of his time and focus. There wouldn’t be a whole lot of time to dwell on what he was missing.

  And then two months would be up before he knew it and he’d be back and she’d be waiting for him.

  The best of both worlds.

  And as tense as they may both be at this moment, he knew in a couple of hours, when they were alone, he’d give her a night together that would get them both through the ensuing months.

  ‘Darling, come in.’ Sylvia Carmichael greeted her son, kissing him on the cheek. ‘I was glued to the TV this morning during your press conference. You did a marvellous job and that young woman…oh, my, she just looks amazing, doesn’t she?’

  Adam smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘And this must be Jess.’ She smiled at Jess. ‘I’ve heard so much about you from Ruby.’

  Jess shook her hand, trying not to let the innocent comment hurt. Of course Ruby would have spoken about her. Why on earth would Adam talk about her? Until last week they had just been an extended fling.

  She concentrated instead on the pride in Sylvia’s voice.

  Adam shut the ornately carved front door behind them and his mother winced as the wind caught it and slammed it harder than he’d intended.

  ‘Mum? Have you got a migraine?’

  Sylvia smiled. ‘Just a little one. I’m sure it’ll be gone in a jiffy.’

  His mother had been plagued with migraines since as far back as Adam could remember. Often quite severe. He noticed the strained look around her eyes. ‘You should have cancelled, Mum.’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘Have you taken something for it?’ he asked.

  Sylvia waved her hand. ‘Your father says they make me muzzy-headed.’

  Adam’s mouth flattened into a thin line. ‘Go and sit down,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll get you your medication.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, darling, I’m fine.’

  Jess could feel the rage vibrating from Adam in waves and noticed his mother’s marked pallor. ‘Mrs Carmichael, why don’t you show me the way to the lounge room?’ Jess suggested.

  ‘Of course, my dear,’ she said. ‘Where are my manners? And please call me Sylvia.’

  Adam stalked into the lounge room a minute later with a glass of water and two tablets. ‘Here,’ he said, kneeling beside his mother.

  The great Gregory entered as his wife popped the pills into her mouth. ‘You still got one of those damn nuisance headaches?’ he said gruffly.

  Adam stood. ‘Yes, how inconvenient for you.’

  ‘Adam.’ His mother’s hand slipped into his and the strain in her voice was unbearable.

  ‘Saw the press conference,’ Gregory said. ‘The girl looks amazing. Good repair job.’

  Adam was stunned for a moment to hear such praise come from the big chief’s mouth.

  Unfortunately he was about thirty years too late.

  ‘Darling, this is Jess Donaldson,’ Sylvia said rising to her feet.

  Jess shook Gregory’s hand, shocked at how much he looked like Adam. It was positively eerie. Like looking into the future and seeing Adam as a sixty-year-old. A very handsome, very distinguished sixty-year-old.

  No wonder Caroline had been a little freaked out!

  But there was a haughtiness about Adam’s father that hadn’t been replicated in his down-to-earth son. A way of looking down his nose that was disconcerting. She felt as if she was being judged and with a quick purse of the lips found wanting.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she murmured politely.

  Gregory nodded as if it was perfectly obvious she should be pleased. ‘Drinks, Sylvia,’ he said, turning to his wife as he sat in a large white leather lounge chair that faced a wall of glass overlooking the darkening ocean. ‘I’ll have my usual.’

  Adam noticed Jess’s surprise and he glared at his father. ‘I’ll get them,’ he said, turning to his mother. ‘You should go and lie down for a while.’

  Even though the prospect of being left alone with his father was grim indeed.

  His mother patted his hand. ‘And miss the fun?’ She crossed to her husband and kissed him on the cheek. ‘How was work, darling?’

  Jess listened to an angry diatribe about incompetent theatre nurses that lasted ten minutes while Adam fixed the drinks. She was pretty damn steamed herself by the time Adam passed her a glass of white wine.

  Didn’t he know what she did?

  Adam slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her snugly into his side. ‘I told you he was a bastard,’ he murmured in her ear.

  Jess couldn’t help herself, she smiled. In fact, she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.

  ‘Think about later. About when we get home. That’s what I’m doing.’

  Jess felt heat bloom not only in her face but in other parts of her body.

  One last night with Adam for two whole months.

  The chief addressed Jess. ‘Tess, is it?’

  Adam’s jaw clenched. ‘Jess,’ he corrected, his voice clipped.

  ‘Jess. You’re family are farmers, yes?’

  Jess couldn’t believe anyone could put emphasis on a word that denigrated it so completely. She suddenly felt like a country bumpkin.

  She straightened a little. ‘We have a hundred thousand acres about seven hours directly west of Sydney.’

  Gregory whistled. ‘What do you grow?’

  ‘Cattle. Mainly.’

  There followed a conversation involving the scandalous price of beef, poor farming management practices and a very ill-informed monologue on the drought.

  Jess, aware of Adam growing tenser by the moment as he politely argued each point with his father, was grateful when Sylvia announced dinner was ready.

  She hoped it wasn’t beef.

  The meal, a melt-in-your-mouth, savoury soufflé, was divine and almost made up for Adam’s father’s continuing prattle.

  When they were all done Sylvia stood and started to clear the dishes. ‘Off you all go through to the formal lounge and I’ll bring in the coffee.’

  Jess stood too, picking up her plate and Adam’s.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Jess. I’ll do this. Off you go.’

  Jess smiled at her. ‘My gran would tan my hide if I didn’t help after you’ve gone to all the trouble to cook such a beautiful meal’ she said, gathering dishes. ‘And with a migraine too.’

  Adam heard the note of reproval aimed at his father and smiled.

  ‘You’re close to your grandmother?’ Sylvia asked.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Jess confirmed. ‘I grew up in my g
randparents’ house. We all lived together.’

  ‘How charming,’ Gregory murmured.

  The inflection on charming was slight but there nonetheless. Enough so Jess wasn’t left in any doubt Adam’s father thought she and her family were yokel hayseeds.

  ‘Hey!’ Adam growled. ‘Back off.’

  Her mother gasped. ‘Adam!’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Jess turned to assure him, placing a hand on his wrist, biting back the retort that had come instantly to her tongue. Instead she smiled at his father. ‘Yes. We have a very charmed life.’

  And they did. Jess considered herself blessed to have had the experience of growing up in an extended family like people used to do. She felt it gave her an unusual perspective.

  And no one was going to make her feel ashamed of it.

  ‘This way, dear,’ Sylvia said.

  Adam started to follow them but his mother shooed him away. ‘Stay and talk to your father,’ she said.

  Adam wanted to do that about as much as he wanted to jump off the cliff the house was perched on. But her eyes implored him and he could hear the plea in his mother’s voice. She hated confrontation and so wanted Adam and his father to get along.

  A little late for that.

  Jess followed Sylvia into the kitchen and set the dishes in the sink.

  ‘You mustn’t mind him, dear. He’s does tend to speak without thinking. It’s the curse of a brilliant mind.’

  Jess gave a forced smiled. Adam was right. His mother was clearly besotted with his father. Totally blind to his faults—his arrogance, his condescension, his ego.

  So love truly was blind.

  They made small talk as they prepared the coffees, Sylvia talking mostly about her husband’s accomplishments and Jess answering questions about the press conference.

  Sylvia loaded the coffee mugs and after-dinner mints onto a tray and Jess carried it back to the lounge room.

  ‘There you are, darling,’ Sylvia said, passing Gregory his cup. ‘Are you comfy? Would you like your footstool?’

  Jess watched her fuss, risking a glance at Adam. His gaze met hers and she could see the frustration stirring the golden flecks in his eyes.

  Jess turned away to inspect the wall of framed photos nearby. No surprises that they were all of the great Gregory. Not one of Adam or Ruby, or even husband and wife. She raised an eyebrow at some of the famous faces on display.

  ‘Aren’t they fantastic?’ Sylvia said, sidling up to Jess. ‘Gregory’s celebrity clients just adore him. They’re always so pleased with their results.’

  Jess nodded, offering no comment. She came to stand in front of a black and white print of Adam’s father standing in front of the Sphinx.

  ‘Oh, this is my favourite,’ Sylvia murmured. ‘It’s been a lifelong ambition of mine to go to Egypt. Gregory’s been several times for work things. When he retires he’s going to take me. He’s going to take me to all these places he’s been,’ she said, indicating the wall.

  Jess noticed pictures from London and Italy and America.

  ‘Adam’s offered to go with me, of course, but I couldn’t be away from Gregory for so long, he depends on me to be there for him. I’m happy to wait.’

  Jess felt a heavy sick feeling start in the pit of her stomach. Sylvia sacrificing what she wanted to please her man.

  It was eerily familiar.

  She walked on to the nearby sideboard where there was one framed picture of Ruby and Adam together with their mother. Jess was struck by the similarities between Ruby and Sylvia—there was no mistaking they were mother and daughter—and she smiled at how happy they all looked.

  A smaller frame, out of the way, hidden almost behind some ugly modern art sculpture, caught her eye. She picked it up.

  ‘Oh, that one.’ Sylvia laughed dismissively. ‘It’s just an old one of me.’

  Jess stared at it. A young Sylvia in her nurse’s uniform, complete with starched white veil, looked back at her. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes, so like Ruby’s, sparkled with promise. ‘Did you like being a nurse?’ Jess asked.

  Adam’s mother took the frame and looked down at it. ‘Oh, yes.’ She smiled. ‘I loved it. I was going to specialise in renal. Dialysis was in its infancy here in Australia and it was so fascinating.’

  Jess watched as Sylvia absently ran a thumb over the glass. Her face looked wistful. ‘My older brother died from kidney disease in his teens.’ She shrugged. ‘I wanted to make a difference.’

  Jess couldn’t take her eyes off the image. Adam’s mother holding her past in her hands. Did she regret it?

  ‘Do you regret it?’ she asked tentatively.

  Sylvia held onto the frame for a few more seconds and then placed it gently back on the sideboard, pushing it back behind the sculpture.

  ‘Of course not,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘Sure, I loved it but I’d fallen head over heels for Gregory and I couldn’t believe he wanted me too. There were so many girls who were after him.’

  She glanced over at the object of her affections and sighed. ‘He didn’t want his wife to work. He needed me to keep everything running and on an even keel so he could build his career. And then Adam came along.’

  Jess nodded even as her head spun and she leaned against the sideboard for support.

  Sylvia had spent her whole life waiting for Gregory.

  Because he’d wanted her over all the others.

  And when he retired, her life, what she wanted, was going to begin.

  Wasn’t that exactly what she’d agreed to do for Adam?

  Wait.

  The chief was talking and Adam was sitting opposite him when the women rejoined them. He wondered when it would be polite to leave. Jess was quiet as she sipped her coffee and he placed his hand over hers. ‘Are you okay?’

  Jess was decidedly not okay. She felt like she was going to throw up any moment. But she forced a small smile to her lips.

  ‘Just a bit tired,’ she murmured.

  It was all the excuse he needed. Adam put down his mug. ‘It’s time to go.’

  Five minutes later, after a teary goodbye from his mother and a stiff if you change your mind about private practice from the chief, he’d popped the top up on his car and they were backing out of the driveway.

  They drove in silence for five minutes before he said, ‘I’m sorry. I told you it would be awful.’

  Jess nodded. It had been nowhere near as awful as the slow dawning she’d experienced talking to Sylvia.

  The realisation that she was on the precipice of becoming Adam’s mother.

  That she too, would give up everything—bend her fairy-tale—because he’d chosen her.

  Over all the others.

  A pain built in her chest. It pressed against her rib cage with terrifying intensity. Her heart pounded, her ears filling with the deafening thud. She sucked in a breath as she rubbed at the spot where the pain seemed to deepen with each second.

  She felt as if she was suffocating in the enclosed confines of the car.

  Was she having a heart attack?

  Adam glanced at her as he drove. She was sitting rigidly in her seat, staring at the windscreen as if she was seeing a ghost, while she rubbed her chest. ‘Are you okay?’

  Jess dragged her eyes away from the road ahead and looked at him. He was so beautiful. And she loved him. So deeply it was frightening.

  She shook her head. ‘Stop the car.’

  Adam frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘I have to…I need to get out. I can’t…’ She rubbed at her chest harder. ‘I can’t breathe.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A LOOKOUT loomed on the right and Adam pulled the car over into the small, deserted parking lot. The note of panic in Jess’s voice and the agitated rhythm of her hands was scaring the daylights out of him.

  He shut the engine off and turned in his seat to ask her to explain but she was tearing off her seat belt, clutching wildly at the door, pushing it open, leaping out.

  He winced a
s the door slammed after her.

  Damn it.

  He should never have taken her to meet his father! He’d been his usual insufferably rude, condescending self and now she was understandably upset.

  First Caroline and now Jess.

  He watched her go, quashing the urge to go straight after her. She looked like she needed space.

  He’d give her a minute or two.

  Jess sucked in large gulps of the cooler night air as she walked blindly towards the rotunda perched on the cliff. The brisk sea breeze whipped her hair around and she didn’t notice the full moon or the breathtaking way it illuminated the ocean and the broad sweep of the bay below.

  She was blind to it all as her turbulent thoughts crashed around her head as loudly as the surf on the rocks far below. What was she going to do?

  He was going off tomorrow on yet another jaunt overseas. One of many.

  This is my life.

  That’s what he’d said not long ago.

  And then he’d asked her to be here for him.

  But how many years would he keep asking her to do that? How many years would she do it? Each time hoping this one would be his last?

  Waiting to do what she wanted. Go home. Live and work in the outback with the people who needed her there.

  People like her grandfather.

  Get married. Have children.

  Live the fairy-tale.

  What had he told that reporter today? As long as there are people who need me.

  Jess reached one of the picnic tables sheltered beneath the rotunda and hoisted herself up onto the table, placing her feet on the seat. She stared out at the horizon, at the light of a boat winking in the distance.

  People were always going to need him.

  How could she hope to compete with that?

  By the time Adam joined her a minute later her heart rate had settled and the dreadful sick feeling had lessened as a sensation of inevitability had taken hold.

  She knew what she had to do.

  No point beating about the bush. That’s what her grandmother had always said. And if nothing else Jess had inherited a healthy does of pragmatism from old mother Donaldson. Adam stood in front of her, his hands buried in his pockets. The wind ruffled his hair from behind and she felt a rush of love that seared her to the core. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him. Bring him down with her on this table and love him and never let him go.

 

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