by Lucy Clark
‘I didn’t hear you.’ She placed a hand onto her chest in a vain attempt to still her erratic heartbeat. Was it beating so erratically because he’d surprised her? Or because he looked incredibly handsome and refreshed? He, too, was wearing the clothes he’d had on under his retrieval overalls but his hair was slightly damp and his eyes were glowing with a refreshed delight and…and…the man simply looked absolutely gorgeous.
‘Is it raining outside?’ she asked, knowing that, as Darwin was in the tropics, it would often have torrential rains and still be over thirty degrees Celsius with exceptionally high humidity.
‘I had a shower before I went out.’
‘Oh. I didn’t hear anything. Guess I really was sound asleep.’ As she spoke she started to plait her hair, needing to have it out of the way. Oscar wished she wouldn’t because she had looked absolutely incredible with it flowing so freely around her shoulders. It had given her a more ethereal look, one of peace, one of contentment.
Last night, she’d woken after sleeping for two or so hours and sat up in bed.
‘What’s wrong, Daisy?’ he’d asked, still a little dozy.
‘Hair. Hurts. Need to take it out.’ And then her clever fingers had quickly unwound her hair from its usual bun. Her eyes had still been closed and he hadn’t been at all sure she was fully awake.
‘Are you awake?’ he’d asked.
‘Of course I’m awake,’ she’d replied in that haughty way of hers that he now found so incredibly charming. Daisy had been running her fingers through her now loose strands, tilting her head this way and that, her eyes closed. Good heavens, the woman was beautiful. Had she had no idea of just what she’d been doing to him, sitting there with her perfectly straight back? Tilting her head this way and that and exposing delicious glimpses of her perfect neck? Parting her lips and breathing out a perfect sigh of relief?
With her dark hair spread around her head on the white pillow, she had looked like the perfect vision of loveliness. It had been too much for him. Too much beauty. Too much perfection. Too much…Daisy—the woman who seemed to never be leaving his thoughts. He’d needed to get control. To stop thinking about her in that way. Yes, he was incredibly attracted to her, an attraction that seemed to increase with every passing day he spent in her company, but there could be no future for them. She had her own life to live and he doubted she would want to live it in Meeraji Lake. He wanted the dream, the fairy tale of house, wife, children. Family life. He wanted the typical family life and he felt certain that, for perfect Daisy Forsythe-York, that sort of life would be too mundane.
He’d swallowed, his throat dry. ‘Did you want a glass of water?’ Without even waiting for her reply, he’d flicked back the covers and stood, walking to the en-suite.
‘What are you wearing?’
He’d turned as the words had seemed to burst forth from her, then glanced down at his boxer shorts. ‘My underwear. You might choose to sleep in your clothes but it’s not my thing.’
Daisy had frowned at him even more. ‘Can’t you at least put on a robe?’
‘I would, Daisy, if I had one. You’re lucky I’m wearing these. I usually sleep naked.’ He’d had his drink of water, then returned to the bed. It had been dangerous. Feeling this way about her, lying so close to her, and even though he’d known it was foolhardy, that Daisy would leave Meeraji Lake after her contract was complete, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from shifting onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look at her.
It was only then he’d realised she’d fallen back into the deep slumber she’d been in before. ‘Daisy?’ He’d whispered her name. ‘Daisy? Are you awake?’ His answer had been a small, soft snoring sound and he’d realised that she had indeed been very much asleep.
Lying back down, he’d exhaled a sigh of frustration. She was so close yet so far. Wasn’t that the story of his romantic life? Wasn’t that what had happened before with both the other women he’d loved? Loved? He didn’t love Daisy. He knew that. It was just physical attraction and that was at least something he could control.
‘Oscar?’
He blinked once, twice, then pushed aside the memory of last night and focused on her face. ‘Sorry? What were you saying?’
She’d finished plaiting her hair and had wound it out of the way into a bun, securing it with another hair band. How it stayed in, he had no idea but all he knew was that she looked so incredibly beautiful first thing in the morning.
‘I asked what was for breakfast, seeing as you’ve clearly gone to the trouble of obtaining it.’
‘Uh…yes.’ He lifted the warming covers off the food he’d brought in. ‘First of all, we have a full English breakfast. Then orange juice, coffee and croissants with jam.’
Daisy peered at the food on the plate. ‘Baked beans, scrambled eggs and bacon isn’t exactly a full English.’ Her stomach chose that moment to gurgle and she grinned. ‘But it will definitely suffice.’
Any awkwardness she might have felt from him standing there, staring at her for a good thirty seconds, began to disappear and that comfortable camaraderie they’d established during the other breakfasts and dinners they’d shared seemed to return.
They discussed Gracie and Oscar told her that, while he’d been at the hospital heading to the cafeteria, he’d called by the intensive care unit and checked on the teenager. ‘They’re keeping her in an induced coma at the moment, in order for her body to recover from the shock of what really happened yesterday.’
‘She was so brave. So incredibly stoic about everything.’
‘But now reality is looming and she has to face the fact that if she develops complications throughout her recovery period, she may end up losing at least one or two fingers. Timothy, however, is amazing.’
‘I know.’ Daisy nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. ‘He’s always been that way. Always knew he wanted to specialise in plastics and to do that minutiae surgery.’
‘So why did he go into the army? And what’s he doing here in Australia? He could be earning a fortune in the States or in Britain.’
Daisy shrugged. ‘Money and prestige aren’t that important to him.’
That haughtiness was back in her tone but it was laced with annoyance. What had he said to upset her? ‘Are they important to you?’
‘No. Most definitely not.’
Well, that was at least something that was different from both Magda and Deidre, he realised.
‘You’re saying you’re not driven by the need to make money?’
‘No.’ She shook her head and frowned at him. ‘Money’s not that important.’
‘Aha. Only people who have money say that.’
Daisy clenched her jaw and glared at him, then stood from the table, carrying her coffee cup over to the window and most definitely giving him the cold shoulder.
‘So you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between you and Timothy? You’ve been friends for years, served in the army together and yet there’s no romance there?’
‘Why does there need to be?’ She threw the words over her shoulder. ‘Why can’t two people simply be colleagues? Why does everyone expect there to be something romantic between us just because we’ve known each other a long time?’
‘Why are you getting so worked up over this?’ Oscar eased back in the chair. ‘It’s a simple question.’
‘I haven’t heard any question, only supposition and allusion.’
‘OK, then. Are you romantically involved with Timothy?’
‘Why do you need to know?’
‘Come on, Daisy. I just asked you a straight-out question and you’re still not going to answer it?’ When she didn’t immediately respond, still standing there at the window with her back to him, he couldn’t help but prod a little further. ‘It’s not such an unusual question—after all, you did come to Australia around the same time he did.’
‘That was completely coincidental.’ She drank the rest of her coffee and turned to glare at him. ‘I d
on’t see what any of this has to do with you.’
‘It’s just seeing the two of you together, seeing how you work well with each other, having your own shorthand to convey what it is you need the other to do—’
‘We worked together in very difficult circumstances in a very unsafe environment. Developing the shorthand was necessary and came out of constant experience. And besides, he is one of my closest friends. Probably my oldest friend, if truth be told, and I actually don’t have that many friends.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No.’ She walked towards the table and started clearing up their breakfast dishes.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No.’
‘Does it have anything to do with the way you were crying the other night?’
‘What? No.’
‘Well, it’s difficult to get a read on you, Daisy. You’re so incredibly closed off. You keep yourself to yourself and, while that’s generally fine in a large medical setting, at Meeraji Lake it’s impossible to keep your distance from others without feeling ostracised by the township.’
‘I understand that and I have actually been opening myself up to others.’
He shook his head at this. ‘You’ve been receptive to others telling you things about themselves but you most certainly don’t open yourself up to others. I’ve asked you a simple question and yet you’ve gone and blown it all out of proportion.’
‘No. You were fishing. Wanting to know if there was anything romantic going on between me and Timothy because you have feelings for me.’
He raised an eyebrow at that.
‘Oh, don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at me.’
‘And I’ve seen the way you look at me,’ he countered. ‘So is there anything, other than friendship, going on between you and Timothy?’
‘Why?’ She spread her arms wide. ‘Why is it so important for me to tell you the most intimate details of my life when I’ll be gone in less than six months?’
‘Why indeed?’ he growled and, without another word, picked up the tray of dirty dishes and headed for the door.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, but received no reply except for the room door closing behind him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAISY PACED AROUND the room, fuming with annoyance and swamped with regret. It wasn’t fair to Oscar that she’d exasperated him by not providing him with the answers he wanted but, at the end of the day, it really wasn’t any of his business whether or not she was involved with Timothy or anyone else for that matter.
Except that perhaps he’d been trying to ask her whether she was single, whether she was available for a…for a what? For a relationship that lasted for the duration of her contract? What sort of relationship did he want? She had to admit that the thought of getting closer to Oscar wasn’t entirely unpalatable but what would be the point? She needed to return to the UK, to check on her mother, to do whatever it was that needed to be done to ensure that Cecilia didn’t end up drinking herself into an early grave. Starting something with Oscar, especially when she knew it wouldn’t end well due to the fact that they lived on opposite sides of the globe and wanted different things from life, would be ludicrous.
At least she thought they wanted different things from life. She hadn’t really asked Oscar what he wanted but she was sure that, as he seemed to be a strong family-man sort of chap, a man who counted every person in the town and the surrounding district of Meeraji Lake as his family, he would most definitely want a family of his own. Was that the reason why he’d been married once and engaged the next time? His only problem, as far as she knew, was that he’d chosen the wrong women.
Daisy sat down at the table where they’d eaten their breakfast and slumped forward. It was such an unladylike pose and one she’d been told off for many times during her younger years at home. Even though she was thirty-eight years old, she could still hear her mother’s admonishing voice, telling her to sit up straight, shoulders back. That was the way a lady sat. Daisy still hated the fact that the rules her parents had drummed into her seemed to resonate at the most inopportune moments.
When the door to the room opened, Daisy immediately sat up straight, her finishing-school training kicking in.
‘Still here, eh?’ Oscar walked into the room and headed to the bathroom to wash his hands.
‘Where else was I supposed to go? I’ve already spoken to the hospital and received an update on Gracie. I don’t know the city, I don’t know where the airport is and I don’t know how we’re supposed to get back to Meeraji Lake.’
He came out of the bathroom, hand towel in his hands as he thoroughly dried them. ‘I apologise, Daisy. I shouldn’t have walked out on you. It’s just that sometimes—’ He threw the towel onto the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Sometimes you drive me crazy.’
‘The feeling is mutual.’ She stood and faced him, mimicking his stance and crossing her arms over her chest. ‘But…’ She relaxed for a moment, dropping her hands to her side. ‘You weren’t totally blameless for what happened. I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to rile you up.’
‘It’s just sometimes that—’ he held out a hand towards her ‘—Britishness of yours really grates on my nerves.’
‘And that Aussieness of yours does the same to mine. I don’t have to tell you about every aspect of my life, Oscar. The residents of Meeraji Lake may like everyone knowing their business but I’m British. We don’t talk about our feelings even when we want to.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘I’ve been raised to repress that natural urge to share, to discuss. I was told it wasn’t ladylike to prattle on about one’s problems or the mundane nuances of my life. I was warned that no one would be interested.’
‘I’m interested.’ He raked his hands through his hair. ‘I want to know all about the mundane nuances of your life. I want to know if you have a boyfriend, a fiancé, a husband. I want to know what your favourite foods are, what colours you like, what plans you have for your future. I’m interested, Daisy.’
‘Because you like me?’
‘Yes!’ He laughed with exasperation, then shook his head.
‘Timothy is not my boyfriend. Not now, nor in the past and never in the future.’
‘You can’t be sure of that.’
‘Oh, I can. You see, he’s gay.’
Oscar stared at her for a moment, then blinked one long blink. ‘I didn’t…er…realise.’
‘Not many people do. He likes to keep it quiet. He hasn’t “come out” as they say nowadays. He’s a respected surgeon, a brilliant surgeon and, believe it or not, his personal preferences can and will affect his career if it becomes common knowledge.’
‘I won’t say a word.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And thank you.’ When she raised her eyebrows in question, he added, ‘For trusting me.’
She smiled at him then and began to relax a little, sitting down at the table. ‘What’s happening with our transport back to Meeraji Lake?’
‘I’m waiting on the Royal Flying Doctor Service to call me. They’ll be able to take us back, it’s just a question of when. In the meantime,’ he said, going to the cupboard and taking out the teacups and electric kettle, ‘why don’t we have another cuppa and you can tell me some of your tales about your time in the army?’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’ve thought about joining the army.’
‘You?’ She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up with the word.
‘Why? What’s wrong with me going into the Army?’
‘Uh…lack of discipline for a start. You’d have to be the class clown, wouldn’t you?’
‘What’s wrong with enjoying a laugh every now and then?’
‘Having a laugh, as you call it, might jolly well get your head blown off.’ Oscar laughed at her words and she shook her head. ‘You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’ He pointed to the cups. ‘Tea?’
She nodded and while she watch
ed him make them both a drink she talked with enthusiasm about her work in the army.
‘How isolated were you?’ he questioned.
‘Most of the time, we were in compounds. We worked alongside a lot of Americans as well as Australians and New Zealanders. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t pretty. It was difficult operating in a tent, especially when patients were in such life-threatening situations. One time, there were big trucks rumbling past not too far away from where Timothy and I were trying to operate, removing bullet fragments from a soldier’s chest.’
‘It must have been frightening.’
‘Working with Timothy?’ She wilfully misunderstood.
He smiled, pleased to see her sense of humour was definitely intact. ‘Yes.’
‘It was terrifying,’ she replied, her smile big and bright and absolutely beautiful. Oscar tried not to sigh from just staring into her eyes. The more time he spent with her, the more he was liking her…wanting to kiss her…wanting to hold her close and never let her— He stopped his thoughts before his mind could finish that sentence.
‘Why did you go? What made you sign up for duty?’ The moment he spoke, he saw her jaw clench and she glared at him.
‘Do I need a reason?’
‘Don’t give me that look,’ he retorted with light humour, shaking his finger at her. ‘It’s a fair question. The army doesn’t suit everyone, as you’ve so aptly pointed out.’ He indicated himself as he spoke.
‘True. I think I needed to prove something.’
‘To yourself? Or someone else?’
She thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps it was a bit of both.’
‘Your…father?’ Her quick look told him he was correct. ‘Did your father want you to go into the army to toughen you up or didn’t he think you could handle it?’
‘The latter but now I have to wonder if he didn’t goad me into it.’ She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. ‘When I’m not staying with them at the big house, he has full control over my mother. Then again, maybe I felt guilty after what I’d done.’ She opened her eyes and shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll never know.’ She was still sitting quietly, clearly lost in contemplation.