by Amy Andrews
‘Nasty,’ Marcus said quietly.
She nodded. ‘I was furious but there was no time to rant and rave at them. Call an ambulance, I said. I tried to rouse her but couldn’t. And I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t have any oxygen or a doctor’s bag or anything. I had nothing to help her. Nothing. All I could do was wait and pray that the ambulance would make it in time.’
Her despair felt as raw today as it had five years ago. ‘Did they?’
‘Nope. She arrested a few minutes later. But just prior to that her eyes flicked open. She was trying to say something and I had to get right up close to her mouth to hear it. She said, “Don’t be mad, Maddy, you’ve been the best sister.”’
Madeline stopped and swallowed, trying to control the emotion that had risen in her chest. ‘I think she knew she was dying.’
Marcus saw a tear track down her face and she dashed it away. He leaned closer with both his elbows on the table and covered her hand with his. ‘Did she die in the flat?’
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She took a deep breath before answering. ‘Officially, no. She died en route to hospital but she’d been in full arrest for five minutes before the ambulance got there and they spent another half-hour working on her. I don’t know how many times they shocked her but I wouldn’t let them give up. She’s septic, I kept saying like a demented idiot, “She needs fill. Fill her up, fill her up.”’
She stopped again, surprised as ever how raw the pain still was sometimes. Marcus’s hand on hers was comforting and the one thing that was keeping her anchored in the present. Without it she would have been sucked totally into the past and that terrible day.
Marcus sat quietly, stroking his thumb across her knuckles, letting her remember, her story incredibly moving. ‘You said there was an autopsy?’
She nodded and cleared her throat. ‘Her organs had already started to shut down. She was in DIC.’
‘So…there wasn’t anything you could have done that would have changed the outcome? Even if you’d had every medical knick-knack and machine that went ping?’
She smiled and slowly withdrew her hand. ‘No. And I know that, rationally. But in my heart, deep in my gut…she was my sister. My little sister, you know? It’s wrong that I couldn’t do a thing.’
Her eyes pleaded with him to understand and he did. When love was involved, right and wrong blurred and blame always came into play.
‘And then I get angry with her sometimes and I feel guilty about that, too. I mean, why on earth would she go to a psychic surgeon? That’s taking alternative a bit too far, right? And Nathan said she’d insisted that he bring her to me instead of the hospital. Wouldn’t let him call an ambulance. Why? How stupid was that?’
Fairly stupid. Nathan had been as well. He chose his words carefully. ‘She did make some unwise choices,’ he agreed.
‘It was just so unnecessary,’ she said. ‘Such a waste of a life.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, it was.’
‘It was awful. I was in my final year of med school. Simon was amazing. So supportive. I don’t think I could have got through that time without him. He’s the only one who knows how bad it was. It bonded us.’
‘I’m pleased he was there for you,’ Marcus said, and meant it. Maddy had had a lot of tragedy in her life. It just didn’t seem right that one person had had to shoulder so much. He was pleased that Simon had served a purpose, even if it meant they’d developed an unhealthy codependency.
‘Sorry I came on so strong at you in the beginning. I guess now you know why. It just makes me so angry sometimes.’
‘Understandable,’ he dismissed quickly. ‘What happened to the…er…psychic guy?’
‘Nothing. A slap on the wrists. He didn’t actually operate on her, just made her think he had, so he couldn’t be charged with her death.’
That made Marcus angry. Alternative medicine struggled so hard to be recognised because people like that quack constantly destroyed their credibility.
Their meals arrived then and they were both pleased to have their conversation interrupted. They ate for a while, savouring the food, Madeline grateful to take a break from talking about herself. ‘So now you know all my deep dark secrets. What about you?’
He chuckled as he cut into his steak. ‘Nothing too deep and dark about me, I’m afraid.’
‘Hah! Don’t believe you. What about your ex? What happened there?’
‘Ah.’ He smiled. ‘Long story.’
She smiled at him as she slowly sucked a strand of fettuccine into her mouth and watched his eyes bulge ever so slightly as her tongue darted out to lick some creamy sauce off her lips. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said.
He stared at her for a moment, trying to clear the lust from his brain. ‘We were twenty-two,’ he said after a moment. ‘She got pregnant, we got married. She had a miscarriage. The whole thing was a disaster. We got divorced.’
She laughed. ‘So that’s the nutshell version?’
He shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Men! I just tell you all my gut-wrenching stuff and you give me nutshell? I want more,’ she demanded with a smile.
‘All right,’ he sighed, resigned to a full dissection of a time in his life he’d rather not remember in too much detail. ‘What do you want to know?’
She looked at him exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know…’ She searched around for something to start with. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Tabitha.’
‘How long were you together before she got pregnant?’
‘A year.’
‘Did you love her?’
‘I think so, in the beginning. But I think I was more besotted with her than anything. She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. It wore off kind of quickly, though. I was about to call it off when she discovered she was pregnant.’
‘Ouch!’
He laughed. ‘Indeed.’
‘But you married her anyway?’
He nodded vigorously. ‘No way in the world was a kid of mine growing up without a father. Been there, done that. Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I insisted we get married.’
Madeline nodded. That made sense, knowing what she knew about his childhood and his bond with Connor. ‘How long after that did she miscarry?’
‘About a month. She was sixteen weeks.’
Madeline whistled. ‘Late. She must have been devastated.’
He nodded. It had been so unexpected. Tabitha had been well into the second trimester—it had been a shock.
‘And how did you feel?’
‘Truthfully?’
She nodded.
‘Relieved. Sure, it was sad, too, but I wasn’t ready for a baby. As much as I ranted about my child having a father, I lived with this constant feeling of dread. Like my life as I knew it was at an end. I mean, we were so young and we’d tied ourselves down to marriage and children and I was in med school and trying to study and work to support us. And then I felt guilty that I was relieved and stayed for another two years, trying to assuage my guilt.’
She gave him a sad smile and reached her hand across the table and laid it on top of his. ‘Poor you.’
He smiled back. ‘Poor Tabitha. I think I stayed in Melbourne for so long because I still felt that guilt years later. I’ve tried to be there for her since. You know, do some DIY stuff, helped her move house a few times, checked in on her from time to time.’
‘She’s not remarried?’
‘No. She’s had a few relationships that haven’t worked out.’
‘And neither have you,’ she said speculatively as she withdrew her hand.
He laughed. ‘I’m a fast learner.’
A waitress came and removed their plates and took orders for another drink. They moved onto other topics and Madeline found herself relaxing. The music was good, the company was very good and her third glass of wine was amazingly good.
With their angsty conversation behind them, the thing betwee
n them flared again and Madeline enjoyed her newfound power. Her every move, every gesture was followed intently by Marcus’s interested gaze. She pushed the envelope purposefully. Her fingers caressed the fine chain at her neck, fiddled with her wristwatch and her arms folded and unfolded, drawing his gaze repeatedly to her cleavage.
Marcus was charming and easy to talk to and when he laughed it lit up his whole face and emphasised his dimples, and the noise was rich and deep and soothing. As the night settled around them and the flames from the garden torches danced shadows across his jaw stubble, the feelings he had stirred with his massage intensified. The longer she spent in his company, the surer she was that Marcus was just what the doctor ordered. Rebound sex.
‘Dessert?’ he asked.
Only if she could be it. She looked him straight in the eye and shook her head. Rebound sex.
‘Coffee?’
She held his gaze steadily and shook her head again. Rebound sex.
Marcus felt his groin tighten. He looked at his watch. Nine p.m. ‘Then I guess we should probably go.’ They were at one of the last remaining occupied tables, most people having left as soon as they’d eaten.
She nodded and stood. She draped her jacket over her arm and retrieved her purse, giving him a twenty-dollar note.
‘I think I can manage it,’ he said.
She considered him for a minute. He looked like he could manage it very well indeed. Rebound sex.
She shrugged. ‘OK. Thanks.’
They walked past the markets, now closed for the night, and back towards the river. They ambled down the walkway in silence, the fairy-lights in the trees that lined the far side providing a subdued glow. They didn’t talk for a while.
Madeline could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she debated ways to proposition him. It had seemed like a good idea in the pub but thinking it and doing it were two different things. She could hear the gentle lap of the river and the warm evening air was filled with the fragrance of summer blooms.
But his arm brushed hers occasionally and she could smell his aftershave and the faint whiff of beer, and when he walked slightly ahead of her his gait was all man and his butt was as cute as hell.
‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a coffee,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we go up to your place?’ Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and she held her breath.
Marcus stopped. His loins felt on fire. He knew what she was suggesting. He turned back. ‘There’s plenty of coffee-shops still open,’ he said, holding her gaze.
‘I haven’t seen your place yet,’ she said.
Marcus sighed. ‘Maddy…’
Madeline almost groaned out loud at the way he said her name. Her muscles clenched. ‘Please, Marcus,’ she said quietly.
He walked over to the wall where she’d been sitting earlier and looked at the darkened river, shimmering in places with the reflections of the city lights. He turned back and wished he hadn’t because she’d obviously been standing just behind him and was now, consequently, just in front of him. And then she took a step closer. He placed a staying hand on her shoulder.
‘Maddy…’ he groaned.
‘Please,’ she whispered.
He shook his head and took a side step away from her. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You need to stop this.’
‘Are you going to make me beg?’ She smiled despite his rejection because he looked so conflicted. Poor guy.
Marcus shut his eyes to block out the images her begging evoked. ‘Look, you’re on the rebound.’
Madeline’s smile widened. Yeah, hence the rebound sex! ‘You don’t want to be rebound guy?’
Of course he wanted to be rebound guy. But he didn’t really think she knew the rules. ‘You said yourself that you could never be with someone like me. You’re a commitment girl. I respect that. Rebound sex.’ He shook his head. ‘There are rules, Maddy. It’s not about love or relationships. It’s just about lust and desire and sometimes even there’s a healthy dose of revenge thrown in.’
‘Good,’ she said, stepping closer again. She didn’t care about the happily ever after stuff for tonight. She got it. Tonight was just about sex. ‘So now I know the rules.’
‘If we do this—’
‘When,’ she interrupted with a smile and reached forward to trace his collar-bone with her finger.
He felt the jolt in his groin and grabbed her hand, holding it still. ‘If,’ he said pointedly. ‘You need to know that it’s probably not going to mean the same thing to me as it is to you. It’ll be sex—’
‘Good sex?’ she interrupted again.
Hell, yes! She looked set to ignite at the merest touch. ‘Concentrate, Maddy. I don’t do weddings or babies or long term. You’ve just heard why. From a female point of view, my commitment track record sucks quite frankly,’ he said, trying to lighten the mood.
‘OK, OK,’ she said, moving in so the length of her body was now touching the length of his. ‘Just sex. I get it.’
She didn’t care and she certainly didn’t want to get involved with someone else on the back of her split with Simon. Especially a commitment-phobe. But Marcus’s hard body felt so good she was going to scream if she didn’t feel him in her as soon as possible.
‘Are you sure, Maddy? Really sure?’ he asked, his voice husky, her lips millimetres from his.
She stepped back and smiled at him. ‘Cross my heart,’ she said, doing the actions in a flirty lingering fashion, feeling the arousal of her nipples. ‘Your place or mine?’
‘Mine,’ he said, grabbing her hand hastily and pulling her along. ‘It’s closer.’
They didn’t talk, just walked. Quickly. By the time they reached the foyer of his apartment complex they were both breathing harder. They waited impatiently for the lift to arrive and the second Marcus had punched the number six and the doors had pinged shut he backed her against the wall and gave her a hard probing kiss. Madeline almost fainted as the tightly controlled lid she’d been keeping on her hormones exploded and she kissed him back like he was a freshwater stream and she was dying of thirst.
She dropped her bag and her jacket to the floor and hooked a leg around his. She felt Marcus grip her bottom and he pulled her up and in, grinding his pelvis into hers so she could feel his desire. She whimpered and a surge of moisture dampened the junction of her thighs.
The lift pinged and he dropped her back onto her feet hastily. He squatted down in front of her, looking up into her emerald eyes, his nostrils flaring at her female scent. He hastily picked her things up off the floor, grabbed her hand again and half strode, half ran with her down the hallway to his door.
Madeline stood looking at the door as he fished through his pocket for the keys. She noticed the number on his door was sixty-nine and she quirked an eyebrow at him.
‘That a promise?’ she asked cheekily, running her fingers over the brass numbers.
‘Absolutely.’ He grinned, his belly suffusing with heat. ‘Whatever you want.’
‘Hurry,’ she said, her voice low, husky with desire.
He laughed to hide the slight tremble of his fingers as he fumbled to unlock the door. His hand shook, his vision blinded in a cloud of lust. He relaxed as the key finally slipped into the lock and he opened the door, pulling her inside, slamming the door behind them and pushing her back against it.
And then he was kissing her and his hands were everywhere. He wanted to take her here, now, against the door, but he wanted to taste every part of her first.
He pulled back and she mewed her disappointment. He chuckled and gave her another hard kiss on the mouth. ‘It’s OK, I just want to look at you.’
Madeline watched as his gaze fell to her cleavage and his index finger stroked lightly against the little white button that had winked at him and teased him all night.
‘This,’ he said, ‘has to go.’ And he grasped the lapels of her shirt and yanked the shirt open, buttons popping and flying everywhere.
Madeline gasped and laughed, not caring that he’d just
ruined her shirt. The look of pure male need as he gazed at her breasts hardened her nipples as quickly as if he’d applied ice cubes.
‘Oh, my God. Green and pink lacy push-up,’ he said, staring at the twin marvels like they were chunks of precious stone. ‘With a little jewel in the middle. Front clasp.’
He looked at her and gave her a slow sexy smile. ‘Pictured you as a white-cotton girl,’ he murmured.
His dimples winked at her. ‘Never judge a book by its cover,’ she said, wishing he’d kiss her again. He ran his fingers down the lacy edge of the bra, delving into her cleavage, stroking and teasing the soft skin.
‘Matching knickers?’ he asked, leaning in to kiss the slope of her neck and reaching behind to the zip of her skirt, sliding it down and easing it off her hips.
She kicked out of it and blushed as his appreciative gaze devoured her body. Her matching knickers met with his approval and she thanked God nice underwear was her one true vice.
‘I’m going to lick you all over,’ he promised her, then swept her up into his arms. He kicked open his bedroom door and within three strides had dropped her on his bed.
He took a moment to just look at her. Her Titian ringlets lay fanned out on his bed. Her green and pink lacy underwear hid and emphasised all at once.
‘Marcus,’ she whispered, and held her arms out to him.
‘Tell me what you want, Maddy.’
Make love to me. It was on the tip of her tongue but she stopped herself at the last moment. She didn’t want Marcus to think she was unclear about the rules. ‘I want you in me now.’
She watched as his dimples disappeared and his clear blue eyes hazed over with lust. ‘Good answer,’ he said as he tore off his clothes.
Madeline admired his nudity, the broadness of his chest, the definition of his muscles and the length and hardness of his erection. Her fingers itched to touch and she licked her lips in anticipation. And when he lowered his body onto hers she revelled in the weight and the feel and the hard jut of him cradled against her pelvis.