by Amy Andrews
‘Thank God for reps,’ he said.
She took it, ripped it open with her teeth and covered the broad length of him in one swift movement.
‘You’re very good at that,’ he said.
‘Only that?’ she asked as she positioned herself over him and very slowly claimed his length.
‘No,’ he said, reaching behind her and pulling her hair out of its clasp as he entered her. She shook her head and looked wild and free and then he was inside her completely, throbbing with need. ‘You have many talents.’
She smiled and kissed him again and his hands resumed their homage to her breasts. He thrust up into her and she rode each penetration, revelling in his hardness and the success of her seduction. Each drive stoked her to fever pitch.
She could feel the slow build-up down low and deep, the angle of his entry stroking her in just the right spot, and she moved with it, perfectly in tune to its rhythm. And then it picked up a notch and then another and then more until an explosion of sensations ricocheted inside her, bucking through her. She was conscious only of the tremble of Marcus’s shoulders as he joined her, the urgency of his cries mixing with hers.
And then as she collapsed against his chest the intensity eased, pleasure resonating in every cell and oozing from every pore. Languor spread through her muscles, her breath calmed and her pulse settled as her climax slowly ebbed away.
Marcus waited until he got his breath back. ‘Many talents,’ he said.
Madeline laughed and reluctantly pushed herself away from the curve of his neck. She looked down at herself, half-undressed, her nipples still hard, still intimately joined with Marcus. She didn’t feel awkward or ashamed. She looked at him and she could tell he liked what he saw.
A distant voice interrupted them. ‘Er, excuse me, Doc, are you here? Is there anyone home?’
Madeline almost injured herself she leapt up that quickly. ‘Who’s that?’ she whispered.
‘My twelve-thirty,’ he said, amused by the red staining her cheeks and her hurried rearranging of her clothes.
‘You have a twelve-thirty? Why didn’t you say something?’ she hissed. She couldn’t believe how close they’d come to being sprung by a patient. Thank God she’d locked the door.
‘And miss out on more rebound sex? In a chair? Are you crazy?’ He winked, watching with great interest as Maddy jiggled around, trying to pull her clothes into some order. ‘I’ll be right out, Ted,’ he yelled.
Madeline blushed even further. When had she become so bold? She picked up her bag and hurried to the door, unlocking and opening it. ‘Right,’ she said to Marcus in an over-bright, businesslike voice, ‘So you’ll follow up on that referral, then?’
He grinned at her. ‘Yes, ma’am, Dr Harrington,’ he teased. ‘Oh, Maddy,’ he murmured as she disappeared.
‘What?’ she whispered, poking her head back around his door.
‘I think you forgot these,’ he said, throwing back her knickers that had lain discarded on his desk.
Madeline caught them with one hand and blushed again.
‘Tonight?’ he asked.
Wild horses couldn’t have kept her away. ‘Tonight,’ she said as she stuffed them in her handbag and hurried away, Marcus’s sexy laughter following her down the hallway.
Four hours later Marcus showed Gail Wust into his office.
‘Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Dr Hunt,’ she said.
‘It’s Marcus,’ he reminded her for the second time, ‘and it was no problem. You’re lucky it’s my first week and it’ll take a little while for people to know I’m here.’
‘Did Dr Harrington talk to you about my case? I believe she wrote you a referral?’
Marcus didn’t blink as he remembered their ‘talk’. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We spoke.’ Kind of.
‘She’s such a great doctor. A really sweet young woman,’ Gail chatted. ‘So polite.’
Marcus blinked this time, thinking about how far off sweet and polite she’d been in his office four hours ago. ‘Yes,’ he said noncomittally, ‘very…sweet. So, you have gallstones?’
Gail took the bait and Marcus was relieved to get off the topic of Maddy. It was bad enough that he could still smell her perfume in the air and her scent on his clothes and had been in a state of semi-arousal all afternoon.
He made an effort to concentrate on his patient as she talked about her symptoms of indigestion and then an episode of acute abdominal pain. She gave him the ultrasound images and he popped them up on his viewing box, examining them closely, and then read the report.
‘I’ve heard there is a natural way to dissolve gallstones. Do you know anything about that?’
He smiled at her reassuringly. ‘Yes, I’ve had a lot of success with it in my practice. But I warn you, it’s not easy or very palatable and it’ll be a good couple of weeks before you can try it. You may be better off having a quick laparoscopic day procedure if you’re experiencing frequent attacks of cholecystitis.’
‘As long as I don’t eat anything too fatty, it’s usually OK. Why will I have to wait that long?’ she asked.
‘We need to make some dietary adjustments first to detoxify your system and prepare the gall bladder properly to pass the stones.’
‘Like what?’
Marcus took a detailed history of Gail’s dietary habits, formulating her detox plan.
‘Well, you’ve eliminated most fatty foods so that’s good, but you’ll need to also eliminate the hidden fats like those naturally occurring in dairy foods. You need to halve your protein intake and substantially increase your fruit and veg consumption. And it’s very important to increase your water intake to between two to three litres a day so you can flush out the toxins.’
They talked extensively about meal planning and strategies to cope with the detox phase.
‘So I’m going to have to do this for ever?’ she asked gloomily.
He chuckled. ‘No, this is just for the two weeks prior to the elimination procedure. But it is probably a good idea to look at what dietary habits you can modify so the stones don’t re-form. It’s not about denying yourself, Gail. Just about moderation.’
He wrote on a piece of paper and tore it off and gave it to her.
‘Go to the health-food shop and get yourself some lecithin granules.
Add them to your meals—it helps to emulsify the cholesterol and reduce the size of the stones. This is really important as bigger stones can damage the neck of the gall bladder.’
‘OK.’ She nodded. ‘So, after the two weeks, what happens then?’
‘You can start the procedure. I usually recommend that you do it before going to bed and hopefully you’ll sleep through the worst of it. Take a dose of Epsom salts a few hours before that to ensure that once the contents of the gall bladder are emptied into the intestine, they are eliminated quickly. Mix three-quarters of a cup of safflower oil with half a cup of fresh lemon juice—’
‘Hmm, yummy,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.
‘Yes, it’s not very palatable but it is effective. As soon as you’ve taken it, lie on your right side with your knees bent. This is the most anatomically correct position to ensure the oil and lemon juice penetrate the gall bladder. And then, fingers crossed, the bile duct will dilate to expel the oil and the stones will go with it. You should pass the stones in your next bowel motion. Sometimes a repeat procedure is needed if all the stones don’t clear first time.’
‘Will it hurt?’
‘There may be abdominal discomfort and nausea. It shouldn’t be unbearably painful. If it is, ring me. But I’ll get you to come back in a week and we can talk about how you’re going. What do you think?’
‘Sounds better than an operation.’ She smiled. ‘I’m willing to give it a try.’
He smiled and stood. ‘Good, we’ll make an appointment for next week. Any troubles in the meantime, don’t hesitate to ring.’
Marcus whistled a happy tune as he waltzed back into his office. Another satisf
ied customer. He was confident that Gail would be able to pass her gallstones naturally and pleased that he could make a real difference in people’s lives.
And then he walked into his office and Maddy’s perfume hit him again and Gail became completely insignificant. He hardened again, thinking about what Maddy had done to him in this very room and, better still, what would happen that night.
The old sensible Marcus warned him against getting too into her and their incredible chemistry. But the new Marcus, the one who had looked down at his chest that morning and seen it covered in her red curls, wanted to throw caution to the wind and follow wherever this thing led.
Maddy Harrington was making him lose perspective. When he was around her it was easy to forget about the commitment-phobe Hunt genes—his divorce-prone parents, his three sisters who had made complete screw-ups of their partnerships and his own failed attempt.
Madeline Harrington blinded him to it all. She was dangerous and he couldn’t even muster the energy to care.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE next six weeks flew by and they were the most incredible of Madeline’s life. She and Marcus were pretty much inseparable. He would call in and pick her up from work each evening and they would rush to her place, the closest, falling on each other the second they were alone, like lovers who hadn’t seen each other for a century instead of only eight hours.
He was perfect. Life was perfect. It had gone from being in the doldrums and her vigilantly guarding herself from life and love and hurt to being spectacularly wonderful. He didn’t put a foot wrong. He was funny and sexy and kind and patient. He was a good cook, a great masseur and a fantastic listener. A true gentleman who opened her door and picked up the cheque. And, in bed, he was adventurous and generous and he just couldn’t get enough of her.
And she couldn’t get enough of him. Hated being apart from him. Resented each minute without him. And when he kissed her again after a day’s absence it was like that first night all over again. Sweet and desperate, lustful and greedy. She’d never known she’d been capable of such passion until now. Or that she could throw all caution to the wind and allow herself to live in the moment for a change. She’d never done that either and it was liberating. She steadfastly avoided thinking about where she and Marcus were headed, preferring to think only in terms of what they were doing today.
Because, whether they admitted it or not, they’d moved far from the realms of rebound sex. In fact, they had broken every rebound sex rule that apparently existed. Whether they admitted it or not, they were in a relationship. And she was damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy the perks while it lasted.
Everyone had been surprised. Veronica had been ecstatic. She kept grinning stupidly at Madeline and muttering stuff like, “You go, girl,” and “Hubba hubba,” as she passed by. Yep, Marcus being in her life had been an absolute sensation.
She knew she had totally blown their minds by her completely out-of-character behaviour. Had she been that boring? That predictable? She could see, looking back, that she had been stuck in a rut. Some kind of emotional limbo, studying hard, living for her work, trying to bury the pain of Abby and her parents and fool herself that she was in love with Simon. It was only now that she was living that she truly realised how disconnected she’d been from real life.
Mary adored him. ‘I knew he’d be right for you. About time you found yourself a young man who couldn’t keep his hands off you,’ she had declared to a pink-faced Madeline a few hours after she had sprung them kissing in her office. Not that long ago Madeline would have been mortified by her behaviour but now she revelled in it, enjoying the carefree flush of being desired.
Marcus ushered in his first patient of the day. His practice had been building nicely. He was three-quarters booked most days. And his nights were just as full. Maddy was amazing. Life was pretty damn good at the moment.
Jenny Smith entered the room, carrying her six-year-old son, Trent. She sat on the chair opposite.
‘Hi,’ said Marcus, noting the boy’s pallor instantly.
‘Ouch,’ said Jenny, indicating the specimen jar on his desk, full of gallstones.
Marcus laughed. ‘Yes, indeed,’ he said holding up Gail Wust’s successfully passed stones. ‘Thirty of the blighters. Better out than in.’
He remembered how excited she had been when she had come to see him and had given him the stones as a memento. A further ultrasound had showed no evidence of any remaining gallstones and she had been one very happy customer.
So too had Connie who, after two weeks, had had more energy than she’d known what to do with. He remembered how emotional she’d been when she’d thanked him and every couple of days she’d pop in with some home-made cake or biccies to show her appreciation.
‘Enough,’ he’d groaned at her good-naturedly when she had brought him some mouth-watering Anzac biscuits the other day. ‘I’ll be as fat as a house,’ he laughed.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She winked. ‘I hear you’re getting plenty of exercise these days.’
It seemed as if everyone knew about him and Maddy. The fact that he didn’t seem to care should have rung rather large alarm bells. Were they heading into a relationship? Would that be so bad?
‘Are you OK, Dr Hunt?’ asked Jenny.
Marcus pulled himself out of his reverie. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’ He pushed thoughts of Maddy aside. ‘What can I do for you today?’
‘It’s Trent,’ she said. ‘I think he may need some more vitamins. He’s been very lethargic the last few days. We’ve just moved and I’ve been putting it down to that and him being off his food again. The naturopath in our old place had him on a vitamin cocktail because he’s always been a fussy eater, appetite of a sparrow, and I worry about his nutrition.’
‘He is a bit of a skinny Minnie,’ said Marcus. ‘Pale, too.’
She shrugged. ‘He’s always been pale.’
Marcus rose from his chair and came around to squat in front of Jenny and Trent.
‘Hey, little mate,’ he said quietly.
Trent looked at him solemnly and tucked his face shyly into his mother’s breast.
Marcus didn’t have a good feeling about Trent. Close up he looked paler still. He looked beyond the ‘pale-child’label. He looked anaemic. ‘I’ll just have a little look at him,’he said to Jenny, and indicated that she should lay him on the couch.
Trent lay docilely as Marcus examined him. It was hard to believe that he and Connor were the same age. The boy didn’t feel feverish at all but Marcus noted the pallor of his inner lower eyelids and the mucous membranes of his mouth. He felt some enlarged lymph nodes in his neck and lifted the boy’s shirt to listen to his chest.
That was when he noticed the bruising. And his bad feeling intensified. He had multiple small bruises over his stomach. ‘Has he had these for long?’ he asked.
Jenny gasped. ‘I noticed a couple when I was dressing him this morning. But he didn’t have this many. And he has a couple on his arms and legs, but he’s six. He’s always falling over and hurting himself,’ she said.
Marcus pushed up Trent’s sleeves and noted the bruises on his arms and then inspected his legs. He felt in Trent’s armpits and groin and found further lumps. A six-year-old with lethargy, pallor, bruising and enlarged lymph nodes. He shut his eyes briefly and hoped to God that he was wrong.
He pulled Trent’s shirt back down and indicated that Jenny could bring him back to the desk.
‘I want you to take Trent and have these blood tests done right away,’ he said to Jenny, writing out a pathology form. ‘The nearest place is two blocks away.’ He circled the box on the form that said ‘Urgent’ several times. ‘I’ll ring them and let them know you’re coming and to put a rush on it.’
Jenny took the slip from him. She looked confused. ‘What’s wrong?’
Marcus chose his words carefully, not wanting to worry her too much at this stage and certainly not when she had to get in her car and drive. ‘I think he’s anaem
ic. I want to know why.’
‘So…’ she said, looking confused. ‘Can’t vitamins help with anaemia?’
Marcus’s heart went out to her. If Trent had what he thought he had, he was going to need much more than vitamins. ‘Let’s just get the blood results first and then we’ll talk about how to treat it,’ he said gently.
Marcus saw fear flit through Jenny’s eyes as it started to dawn on her that there might be something seriously wrong with her son.
‘There’s something you’re not telling me,’ she said. ‘I need to know what you’re thinking.’
Marcus wavered for a moment. This was always the difficult part. To share his suspicions before they were confirmed to prepare her a little or to keep mum until he knew for sure and completely knock the wind out of her.
‘There are lots of things that can cause anaemia,’ he prevaricated.
‘Yes, but what do you think it is?’ she insisted.
He looked at her worried eyes and the way she was clutching her now sleeping son to her chest and knew that people always preferred you to be honest with them. He sighed. ‘I’m concerned that Trent may have leukaemia,’ he said, ploughing on through her shocked gasp. ‘But I can’t be sure until the results are back.’
‘Leukaemia? But he’ll die,’ she said frantically.
Marcus felt panic roll off her in a tangible wave. Who could blame her? How would he feel if someone was telling him that Connor had leukaemia? Fun-loving, skateboard-riding, daredevil Connor?
‘Please, don’t let’s get ahead of ourselves here. Let’s get the tests done and go from there. If he has it then we’ll admit him straight to hospital and he can begin his treatment immediately. There is a very good cure rate, Jenny.’
She nodded. ‘Will he need chemotherapy?’ she asked.
‘That is the treatment,’ he said.
‘What about natural therapies? I’ve heard enough stories about chemo to know that it’s not very nice.’