‘Your hair looks great,’ Clare was saying, and Angus found himself echoing the compliment, barely refraining from adding, All of you looks great.
‘Thanks.’ Kate’s response took in both of them, although she was looking towards Clare. ‘It takes such an age to straighten it, I don’t do it often.’
Was it just the hair, or was it the slim but shapely body snugly encased in black that had him all but panting like a dog?
The elevator doors opened and he stood back as Kate and Clare entered, the pair of them engrossed in what he took to be a hair conversation, as Clare was tossing her dark locks while Kate smoothed hers down against her shoulders.
‘Are you with us?’
Clare asked the question and if he’d been honest he’d have had to answer no, for his thoughts were bounding all over the place, which made it very difficult for his brain to control his wayward body. But he stepped into the elevator, being careful to stand closer to Clare than Kate, but even in a large-size hospital elevator he was still too close to the woman who was disrupting his life.
It probably wasn’t her fault, he’d just decided, when she brushed against him as she exited the elevator and his body went into a spasm of such hot desire he wondered if he could plead a sudden terrible headache and go home.
‘Come on!’ Clare was sounding impatient and he realised Kate had already entered the big room on an upper level of the hospital, while Clare was waiting patiently at the door.
Because she wants someone to see her coming in with me.
In one way the realisation was a relief, signalling as it did that Clare had no interest in him as a man, merely as a partner for this occasion. So he needn’t feel guilty about the way he’d stared at Kate.
He joined Clare and together they entered the room, her hand slipping into the crook of his arm as they came towards a small cluster of their colleagues, both of them ducking to avoid some dangling Christmas decorations.
‘Bloody tinsel! This close to Christmas I might have known they’d have tinsel everywhere,’ Clare muttered, then she was smiling and greeting the team members, leaving Angus at a loss about the tinsel conversation.
Not that it preoccupied him for long, for there, just beyond this particular cluster of people, was Kate, the light shining on her fine white skin, and picking up the deep auburn colours in her hair. Somehow he made conversation with Alex and Oliver, smiled at a joke Becky made about doctors, then, with Clare fully occupied, he slid away, taking a drink from a tray a waiter held out, hoping his colleagues would think thirst had made him leave the group.
Deciding it would look bad if he made a beeline for Kate, he took a complete circuit of the room to get around to where she had been standing, but by the time he got there, she was gone.
‘Hi, I’m Marcie, I’m a paediatric physician. You’re one of the new cardiac surgeons, I believe.’
He introduced himself to Marcie, then left the conversational ball in her hands as he looked around for Kate.
‘I know you worked in the U.S., but you’re obviously Scottish. I did my paediatric training in Edinburgh. Did you train there at any time?’
Angus rattled off the salient points of his educational CV, and managed to hold a reasonable conversation with the woman, but apparently it wasn’t reasonable enough, for finally Marcie said, ‘If you’re looking for Kate, she’s over at the buffet. A tip for you for the future—any do like this, that’s where you’ll find her. She says it’s because she doesn’t like food that’s been lying around too long so she gets in early. But, in fact, it’s probably because she doesn’t look after herself properly, always too busy doing something else—minding other people’s children, working on her renovations or helping someone out somewhere. So she forgets to shop and forgets to eat until she’s starving, then there’s nothing in the fridge or pantry.’
Marcie’s explanation finally ran down, but it left Angus not only with a fuller picture of his neighbour but also with a strong urge to be the one who did look after Kate. After all, if she didn’t look after herself, someone would have to!
He was about to head towards the buffet, which he could see set up in a side room, when Clare reclaimed him.
‘Let’s go get something to eat,’ she said, and although Angus had seen her demolish a dish of pasta that would set a footballer back on his heels, he was happy enough to go along with her—very happy, in fact.
Ha! So maybe Oliver was the focus of Clare’s interest, Angus decided, checking out the crowd around the buffet and seeing only Kate and Oliver from their team. Kate and Oliver very close together, heads bent as they discussed something, Kate smiling at the man—
‘Well, hi, you two—fancy meeting you here.’
Clare breezed up to them, tugging Angus by the hand until he came alongside. He knew Kate had taken in the linked hands but her expression told him nothing, which in itself was weird as Kate’s face usually showed every emotion, if only in the variation of colour in her cheeks. But then, he was keeping his own reaction in check—the reaction he’d felt deep in his gut when he’d seen her with Oliver. Ridiculous, that’s what it was. Apart from a couple of kisses, there was nothing between him and Kate, so why shouldn’t she be standing close to Oliver?
And standing close didn’t mean interest—wasn’t he, Angus, standing close to Clare?
Not comfortably close, he had to admit that, although the crush now gathering around the buffet made it hard to move apart.
‘Well, I’m taking my supper up on the roof,’ Kate announced.
‘Up on the roof? Isn’t it off limits? Isn’t that where the helicopter landing pad is?’
Kate smiled at him—more gut reaction.
‘You haven’t had the guided tour of the hospital, have you?’ she said. ‘There are two towers, linked on the odd-numbered floors with walkways. The helipad is on the top of the other tower. At the top of this tower, there’s a wonderful roof garden, thanks to a television gardening show that did makeovers. Someone suggested that as the new buildings had taken up most of the grounds which once surrounded Jimmie’s, we should have a garden on a roof. It’s wonderful.’
She included all of them in her smile this time. ‘Why don’t we all go up?’
Was she mad, going up onto the roof with Angus? Even with the others present wasn’t there a danger inherent in being out in the moonlight with him? Wandering a shadowy garden with Angus?
Although Clare seemed to have Angus firmly in hand, Kate reminded herself, to stop the mental questioning of her sanity.
‘Won’t it be windy up there?’ Clare objected. ‘It’ll blow your hair.’
Kate shrugged. Clare had just offered her the perfect excuse to avoid the combination of moonlight, shadows and Angus, but she was too twitchy to stay here, making polite conversations with colleagues while the most beautiful woman in the hospital flirted with Angus. At least on the roof she might not notice Clare flirting!
‘I’d like to see the roof garden.’ Angus, who’d been putting two small appetisers on his plate, turned back to them to make this statement.
‘Well, I’ll keep an eye on Clare while you’re gone,’ Oliver said, far too heartily, some false note ringing in the words. But Kate had no time to be thinking about Oliver and heartiness or false notes, for it seemed as if she and Angus were headed for the roof garden, his hand clasped on her elbow as if to ensure she didn’t escape.
There’d be other people up there, she reminded herself, and you’ve got a plate full of food to eat, so it isn’t as if you’ll have time for kisses, not that he’d be wanting to kiss you if he’d come with Clare.
Muddled thoughts popped in and out of her mind as they walked to the elevators, but once on the roof Kate realised her assumption that other people would be about was wrong. It was obviously too early for people to be slipping away from the party.
She chose a stone seat out of the wind—Clare had been right—and began to eat while Angus deposited his plate beside her, then prowled away, ob
viously intent on exploring this secret wonder.
‘It’s wonderful,’ he declared, returning as she finished the last of the food she’d chosen and was eyeing off his meagre selection.
‘It is,’ she agreed, but looking at Angus, hearing the enthusiasm in his voice, she felt a pain so deep she could barely breathe.
He stood there in the moonlight, tall and strong, his accent making magic of his words—prosaic words like soil and ferns and watering systems—and she knew that it was love. Oh, people would argue that love didn’t happen like this—in such a short time—but attraction, no matter how strong, couldn’t cause pain as intense as she was feeling.
Her mind was battling this new revelation, but she knew sitting like a statue while it assimilated it was going to look odd, so she moved, picking up Angus’s plate and helping herself to his appetisers.
‘Do help yourself,’ he said as she popped the second one in her mouth. ‘I ate earlier.’
She looked up at him, stricken by her behaviour.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll go down and get you some more.’
She stood so hurriedly she almost stumbled into him, and though she was sure he’d only put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, somehow she found herself in his arms, the plate she was still holding squashed between them.
‘And waste this moonlight?’
He bent his head towards her and she could feel his lips—feel the kiss—before his mouth met hers.
‘Angus, we can’t!’ she wailed, and heard the anguish in her voice.
He must have heard it, too, for he straightened.
‘No, you’re right. It’s a work function and it’s far too early for people to be returning to it looking rumpled and well-kissed.’
That hadn’t been what she’d meant but it had stopped the kiss, which was a good thing.
Yeah?
Of course it was a good thing!
The two parts of her brain were arguing again, but as Angus had taken the plate from her hands, put it with the other one and was striding towards the elevators, she had little alternative but to follow.
Striding?
He was angry?
With her, for stopping the kiss?
Well, he’s the one that actually stopped it and rationalised it!
Angus pressed the button, then felt a surge of fury that the doors didn’t immediately open.
Fury!
What was wrong with him, striding off like that?
Feeling anger?
And with whom, himself or Kate?
Not Kate—it wasn’t her fault he felt this almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her whenever she was within a yard of him.
Nor was she to blame that she had enough sense to pull back from the kiss!
She’d joined him by the elevator, not speaking, just standing there—within the dangerous one-yard zone but not by much.
The anger dissolved as quickly as it had surfaced, leaving him feeling confused and—
No, it couldn’t be vulnerable.
He didn’t do vulnerable.
‘How did Hamish’s mother die?’
Darn the woman! Had she sensed something? Slid inside him and ferreted out doors he’d slammed shut years ago? Somehow eased one open?
Yet might it not be time?
Around them a cool breeze rustled the leaves of the ferns and palms on the rooftop, and the scent of some sweet-smelling flower perfumed the air.
‘Could we go and sit awhile?’ he suggested, just as the elevator arrived and the doors opened.
Kate turned towards him, concern causing a small frown on her smooth forehead.
‘You don’t have to answer that question,’ she said. ‘In fact, it was rude and intrusive of me to have asked it, but as Hamish regards me as a friend, I thought—well, I wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing to him.’
The inner tension that had eased when Kate asked the question tightened again. She was asking for Hamish, not out of concern for the boy’s father.
The elevator doors had closed so he turned away, back towards the stone seat on which she’d been sitting earlier. He set down the plates on the end so she could sit beside him.
If she followed.
She did, although caution or regret was making her drag her steps.
‘It’s best you know,’ he agreed when she slid onto the seat, close enough to touch, but not close enough for him to feel her body’s warmth.
Angus looked straight ahead to where, between the branches and leaves, he caught glimpses of light in highrise towers in the city. He’d told the story often enough, not regularly but from time to time, to explain to a colleague usually.
Kate was a colleague. Think that way!
‘Jenna’s pregnancy was unremarkable—she was well throughout, and her labour was hard but not overly prolonged. She was a doctor, like myself, so one would think if she’d had any preliminary signs of deep vein thrombosis—pains in her calves, tenderness on touching—she would have said, but she was blissfully happy, keeping Hamish close, showing him off to relatives and friends.’
His voice was flat, all emotion ironed out of it by the strength of his will, but Kate knew he must be reliving that pain, and slid closer, reaching out to take his hand in hers and hold it tightly.
He didn’t resist but nor did his fingers respond to hers, simply lying limp in her hand as he continued.
‘You’d know that DVT is often a forerunner to a pulmonary embolism, and Jenna knew that, as well, but if she was feeling breathless or had any other symptoms she didn’t say. I wasn’t there when she collapsed. I’d taken Hamish out to show some of my colleagues. They started anticoagulation therapy but she was dead within thirty minutes. Ridiculous that it can take such a short time for a young, healthy woman to die.’
Kate clung tightly to his hand. What could she say? What was there so say?
I’m sorry? A useless platitude, no matter how sincere the words!
She let the moment pass in silence, offering nothing more than whatever comfort he might derive from her clasp on his hand, then knew she had to probe again, because the pain this man was carrying was like an abscess that needed to be lanced.
‘You can’t possibly blame yourself,’ she said, guessing this was how his thinking went. ‘She must have wanted a child as much as you did, and what are the chances of a post-partum death by pulmonary embolism—very small, I would guess. Less than ten per cent?’
He stood, retrieving his hand in the action, and walked away, not towards the elevator this time, but towards the railing on the side of the roof garden that looked out over the suburbs towards the sea.
Unwilling to let him get away with silence, Kate followed him, coming to stand beside him, not touching him, but close enough for him to feel her presence.
‘The mind is a strange thing, Kate,’ he finally said, his voice deep and harsh. ‘You’d think the scientist in me could rationalise what happened, using the figures I know by heart. Once she collapsed, there was nothing anyone could have done to save Jenna. It was just one of those occurrences that pop up to remind medical people they are not gods. But the emotional part of me cannot accept that.’
He turned towards her and put his hands on her shoulders.
‘So, you see, sweet Kate, that although logically I know it wasn’t my fault, emotionally I feel I was to blame. If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have been pregnant. And yes, I know it was something we both wanted—a child—but I could never go through that again, never put a woman at risk that way, never have another child.’
He wasn’t saying he could never love again…
It was a strange thought to bob into Kate’s head, especially as Angus was drawing her close and she knew full well there’d be no stopping this kiss. But bob into her head it did, to lie there like a tiny seed, while her body responded to the touch of Angus’s mouth, to the taste of Angus on her tongue. She slid her arms around him, holding him tight, kissing him with a passion she’d never
felt before, knowing in a hazy kind of way that there was no pity in it, but sympathy at least, until the kiss became so fervid her mind went blank and she gave in to the longings of her body.
Chapter Eight
VOICES broke them apart—voices that told them others had come up to enjoy the cool breeze and beautiful views of the roof garden, or maybe to steal a kiss in shadows.
Angus looked at Kate, but her head was bent, so he smoothed the ruffled hair as best he could, thinking at the time how much better he liked her wayward curls, although the beauty of this shining curtain had taken his breath away earlier.
Who was he kidding? It was Kate herself who stole his breath.
She looked up at him now and he could see she’d been quietly renewing her lipstick, although the pale pink colour did little to hide the fullness of well-kissed lips.
‘I think I’ll go straight home,’ she said. ‘No-one will think anything of it—I rarely stay long at these occasions, and I’ve seen the person I came to see.’
Which obviously wasn’t me, Angus realised, then chided himself for feeling put out. She saw him all the time at work; she didn’t need to make a special effort. And she’d been kissing him, not some other man. She was here with him—
She was here with him!
The realisation released a lot of the tension that had built up again after the kiss.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said, his body already stirring in response to this brilliant idea.
Green witch eyes studied him intently.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’
‘Forgetting something?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Or someone?’ Kate clarified, but obviously Angus still didn’t get it.
‘You came with Clare,’ Kate reminded him. ‘Surely you should see her home.’
‘Oh, but it wasn’t that kind of coming with,’ Angus stuttered, and Kate almost laughed, almost but not quite. It wasn’t really a night to be amused by seeing the usually oh-so-together Angus all confused.
‘Whatever kind of coming with it was,’ she told him, ‘you should at least see that she’s okay to get home. Besides, as I’ve told you before, I’m quite capable of seeing myself home.’
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