One Week to Win His Heart

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One Week to Win His Heart Page 15

by Lucy Clark


  She scrambled into an upright position, shaking him fiercely. ‘Wake up.’ She shook him. ‘George. Wake up.’ With the tiny beams of light peeking from behind her thick curtains, she guessed it to be quite early in the morning.

  ‘Huh?’ He slowly moved, stretching languorously. Melody was pierced with longing as she watched him. His body was lean and hard, muscles tensing firmly before relaxing. His leg brushed hers, igniting a spark she’d been trying to repress ever since he’d arrived last night. He shifted to a sitting position beside her and peered blearily into her eyes.

  ‘Mmm.’ With his eyes half-closed, he leant over and kissed her soundly on the mouth. ‘Hi, there.’ His voice was deep and low. ‘Guess we must have dozed off.’ He reached for her, gathering her into his arms. She resisted him but only slightly. He nuzzled her neck. ‘You’re a cuddly girl at heart, aren’t you?’

  Melody smiled. The embarrassment from their impromptu night on the lounge faded a little. How could she resist when he said such nice things?

  He pointed to the TV. ‘How long did you say that last recording went on for?’

  ‘They’re all about four hours and we did watch two—or was it three? We started the second one after we’d finished eating, I remember that.’

  George laughed, a deep rumbling sound that warmed her. ‘I guess it doesn’t really matter. Besides, I think we were both exhausted.’

  ‘It has been an incredibly hectic week,’ she replied as she went to move from his arms.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To grab the remote.’ She pointed to where the remote had fallen off the table onto the floor.

  ‘Wait.’ He shifted to the right and, sticking his leg out to the side, he managed to bring it closer. ‘Almost got it.’ He reached over further before crowing triumphantly as he snatched it up into his hand. ‘Done.’ He pointed it at the set and turned it off.

  It was then Melody noticed the clock on the wall. ‘What? That can’t be right.’ She scrambled for her mobile phone and checked the time. ‘Ten to eight! I’m due at work in ten minutes.’

  Melody sprang from his arms and rushed out the room. Moments later, George could hear the shower running. He shook his head. Carmel must be having a hissy fit. He grimaced as he stood, stretching his cramped muscles again before pulling his phone from his pocket. He’d purposely put it on silent all night, not wanting to be disturbed. Sure enough, there were several missed calls from Carmel and even more text messages.

  With a reluctant sigh he called Carmel back. ‘Carmel,’ he said into the receiver when she answered. A split second later he held the phone away from his ear as Carmel’s voice boomed through. ‘Calm down,’ he tried. It didn’t work. He heard the shower stop and realised that Melody was going to be leaving her house very soon. As he’d come in a taxi last night, he had no way of getting back to his hotel—well, no way that wouldn’t take another half an hour or more. She’d have to give him a lift.

  ‘Carmel,’ he said finally, ‘you’re wasting time. What’s my schedule?’ He listened intently, his mind working overtime. ‘All right. Bring me a change of clothes and a clean suit. I’ll meet you in the theatre block.’ He could at least have a shower and change there. He disconnected the call then headed to the kitchen, his stomach grumbling as he checked the contents of Melody’s fridge.

  A few minutes later she came rushing into the kitchen while he finished his orange juice and bit into an apple. ‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. Get out of my apartment!’

  ‘Not a problem. Which way is your car?’

  ‘What?’ Melody exploded. ‘You can’t come to work with me.’

  ‘Why not? I need to go to the hospital. You’re going there. What’s the problem?’

  She looked at him as though he’d grown an extra head. ‘The problem, Professor, is that everyone will see you coming to work in my car and as you’re dressed in casual clothes, they’ll put two and two together and make four!’

  ‘So?’

  Melody threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘Typical of you. You’ll be gone tomorrow and I’ll have to live with the rumours and gossip—again.’ She didn’t have time for this. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a banana before storming from the kitchen, George hard on her heels.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she continued to mutter. ‘Not to my emotions, not to my neurotic thought processes and not to my anxiety, all of which are flaring right now and blending themselves in a fine state.’ Her voice broke at the end and she sniffed, doing her best to keep herself under control. She needed to drive. She needed a clear head and yet with George being so close to her, being so insistent, she was finding it difficult to get her thoughts in order. Of course, what he said made perfect, logical sense but emotionally being in the car with him and driving to the hospital first thing in the morning was increasing her irrational levels to maximum.

  ‘This is different and you know it. Nothing happened last night.’

  ‘You know that and I know that but the fact remains that we’ll be seen arriving together and you’ll be leaving tomorrow.’

  ‘What am I supposed to do?’

  ‘Call a taxi and wait.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m lecturing at eight.’

  ‘Then you’re going to be late, no matter what you do.’ She stormed towards her car, which was located in the communal garage. ‘Look, George, I’ve spent a lot of time picking up the pieces of my life since Emir left and I’m not about to give the people at St Aloysius the chance to give me pitying looks accompanied by not-so-quiet whispers behind my back as I walk past them.’

  ‘Melody, you’re overreacting. Besides, what does it matter what people say about you? Surely you’re above all that.’

  Melody was filled with temper and frustration, and at his comment she wanted to throw something at him. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? I don’t care what people think. They respect me as a surgeon and a professional, but there’s only so much gossip and speculation a girl can take, George, and right at the moment I don’t choose to take any more.’ She’d unlocked her car and noticed that George was determined to get in. He sat beside her as she revved the engine and reversed.

  ‘Drop me a block before the hospital and I’ll walk the rest of the way,’ he told her quietly, and she started to feel silly about her tirade.

  She sighed with resignation. ‘Listen, I’m sor—’

  ‘No.’ He held up his hand. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to apologise.’

  Although his words sounded sincere, the strained silence that followed made Melody realise that things had just changed—again. She shook her head as she pulled to the kerb a block away from the hospital. His smile was forced when he climbed out and started walking. This week had been a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration and as she drove away from him, glancing at him in her rear-vision mirror, she felt a sense of loss.

  ‘What is wrong with you? You’re behaving like a complete nut case and all because he needed a lift and you didn’t want to be gossiped about.’ She reached her designated parking spot. ‘It’s not as though George is anything special, just a holiday romance, an interlude. Nothing more, yet you’re behaving as though you’re completely smitten with him.’ As she spoke the words out loud to her empty car she gasped. Turning off the engine, she covered her hands with her face and shook her head. ‘No. No, no, no, no, no. You are not.’

  She shoved the thoughts away, but they refused to budge. ‘No. You are not in love with him. You are not.’ But even as she denied it to herself, the truth seemed to slap her in the face. She didn’t want to be in love with George Wilmont. ‘Nope. I refuse.’ She dropped her hands, straightened her shoulders and climbed from the car.

  After locking it, she headed towards her office on legs that felt all stiff and uncooperative. You’re in love, you’re in love, you’re in love, the rhythm of her steps seemed to state. ‘No, I’m not, no, I’m not, no, I’m not,’ she mumbled softly to herself, but even w
hen she denied it, she knew it was true.

  She was in love with George and not in the way she’d been in love before. Oh, no. This was the real thing. With Emir she’d felt secure and safe, yet with George she needed him just as she needed oxygen to breathe. He’d become a part of her. A vital, desperate part and one she couldn’t bear to be without—yet she had to.

  Somehow she managed to pull herself together and concentrate on work. She managed to make it in time for ward round and then headed to Theatre. The second part of the hand reconstruction went extremely well and the success of the operation did much to bolster her failing spirits.

  She didn’t get time to see George as between an emergency case and a full clinic she was swamped for the rest of the day. That night she dressed carefully in the last outfit she’d bought for her week as host to the visiting orthopaedic surgeon. It was his official farewell dinner and she wanted to look perfect. She was desperate to see that spark of desire in his eyes again, at the same time dreading the thought of seeing that blank, professional look he reserved for people he didn’t know well.

  Her dress was two-tone, the bodice made from navy velvet and the skirt from pale blue silk. A wide band of navy velvet circled the base of the skirt and Melody had never felt more pretty in a dress than she did in this one. She was glad she’d saved it for last.

  She took time with her hair, piling half of it up and leaving the other half to swirl around her shoulders. There was no need for a necklace as the dress had a high neckline. Finally, pleased with her appearance, she drove to the venue. Once again, she noted she was seated at George’s table and called on every last ounce of determination she had, knowing she would need it to get through the night.

  The instant she saw him across the crowded room her stomach began to churn and her knees went weak. She propped her elbow up on the bar for support and as her mouth went dry she reached, with a not-so-steady hand, for her drink. It was true. It was really true. She hadn’t been imagining it after all. She really was in love with George Wilmont.

  He spotted her and, just as she’d known, his brown eyes darkened momentarily with repressed desire. He quickly returned his attention to the person talking to him but she could see his impatience in the way he stood, the way he smiled politely and the way his gaze flicked to her another three times in under thirty seconds.

  ‘Wow, boss,’ Andy remarked from beside her. ‘You look great.’

  ‘Thank you, Andy,’ she responded, smiling at her registrar as they were called into dinner. ‘As do you.’ He offered her his arm and she took it. She wanted to walk in with George, to talk with him, listen to him, soak up everything about him—but at the same time she wanted to keep as far away from him as possible.

  It was just too soon. She’d only realised that morning that she was in love with the man and, quite frankly, she needed some time to adjust. Melody wasn’t sitting next to George this time, which brought more mixed emotions. She wanted to be next to him, feel his body close to hers, breathe in the irresistible scent of him, fight the pull of his hypnotic gaze, and at the same moment she was glad of the reprieve.

  Andy sat on one side of her, with Mr Okanadu on the other, his wife next to him. Mrs Okanadu spoke animatedly about her grandchildren and although Melody smiled and nodded in the right places, she was always conscious of every move George made.

  He was seated almost directly opposite her and their gazes clashed several times across the large round table. Just after the main meal Melody excused herself and headed to the rest rooms. Once there, she leaned against the wall for support and closed her eyes. He was gorgeous, sexy and far too close. It pained her that he would leave tomorrow and right now, when she should be making the most of the time they had left together, she was keeping as far away as she possibly could.

  ‘Hi, there.’

  Melody’s eyes snapped open at the other woman’s voice and she found herself face to face with Hilary, one of the theatre nurses. ‘Feeling all right?’ she asked as she repaired her bright red lipstick.

  ‘Sure,’ Melody replied. ‘Just a bit tired.’

  ‘I hear the hand reconstruction went well.’

  ‘Yes.’ Melody nodded quickly. ‘Very well.’

  Hilary paused and looked over her shoulder before saying, ‘I also hear that you and a certain visiting surgeon have been spending quite a bit of time together.’

  Melody didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that the colour had just drained from her face. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’

  ‘I mean the fact that I saw him get out of your car this morning a block away from the hospital, and I wasn’t the only one.’ She grinned wildly at Melody. ‘So—what’s he like?’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘You know, to kiss? To cuddle? In bed?’

  Melody’s jaw dropped open in shock. ‘That’s none of your business.’ The instant the words were out of her mouth, she realised she’d incriminated herself.

  ‘So you are involved. How romantic! Was I right? Is he divorced or is he just…lonely?’

  ‘Oh, this isn’t happening,’ Melody mumbled as she turned on the cold tap and ran her hands beneath the water. Taking a deep breath and calling on every ounce of professionalism she could muster, she turned off the tap and dried her hands before answering. ‘Look, George is a nice man.’

  ‘No kidding.’

  ‘We’re colleagues. That’s all.’

  ‘Yeah, right. I saw him get out of your car at eight o’clock in the morning. I know which hotel he’s staying at, and you were coming from the opposite direction. I was also at his lecture, which started late, and when he finally arrived he was dressed in a suit and his hair was wet, as though he’d just had a shower.’

  Melody gulped over the hard lump in her throat. She hated being the subject of hospital gossip and she knew that losing her temper and giving the nurse a piece of her mind would do no good. She was caught between a rock and a hard place—again—and, as usual, the guy walked away with no repercussions. Hilary was waiting for her answer and Melody smiled politely.

  ‘You’re a great theatre nurse.’

  The other woman frowned. ‘As opposed to what?’

  ‘A private eye.’ Melody turned on her heel and walked out. Inside, she was shaking like a leaf and thanked her training for making her appear outwardly composed. She tried telling herself she didn’t care about the rumours and gossip but it didn’t work. She should have made him take a taxi. She should have known that one block from the hospital wouldn’t have been sufficient distance for people not to see them together.

  ‘Shoulda, coulda, woulda…’ she muttered as she walked over to the now deserted bar and leaned against it. What was she going to do? The pitying glances, the sorrowful looks. They were all going to come again, along with the ‘poor Melody’ sighs. This time, though, it would tear her heart to shreds and she doubted she’d ever recover.

  Tears started to well in her eyes and she willed them away, massaging her temples, trying desperately to get herself under control. She sniffed and realised she was fighting a losing battle. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, tears falling onto her cheeks that she gently brushed away as she concentrated on some deep breaths.

  ‘There you are.’ George’s deep voice washed over her. ‘I’ve been worried.’

  Her heart lunged with happiness at his words, making her feel as though everything would turn out right. He’d been worried about her. He’d been conscious of the time she’d been away from the table. Here was the man she loved, being so—so—darn sweet and yet, as she stared into his face, she couldn’t help be swamped with overwhelming anger.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked when he saw she was upset. George went to place a hand on her shoulder but she quickly stopped him.

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he repeated, his tone more cautious than before.

  ‘People saw you getting out of my car this morning.’

  ‘What?’ His eyes were wide with shock.
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  Melody shook her head. ‘I knew I should have made you take a taxi.’

  ‘So this is all my fault?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you figure that?’

  ‘Because you’ll be gone tomorrow.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So I’m the one who’s going to be left with the rumours, gossip and pitying looks.’

  ‘And you think you’re the only person who’s ever been gossiped about in hospitals?’ George shoved both hands into his trouser pockets and looked down at his shoes for a moment. Slowly he lifted his head. ‘I had to endure everything and more when Veronique died. She was an admin assistant there, so not only did I get pitying looks and sympathy, left, right and centre, I also had to deal with people avoiding me because they didn’t know what to say. For six months, until I left to come away on the VOS, people avoided me. I didn’t have normal conversations with my theatre staff except for “Pass me that retractor”!’ He spoke in a harsh whisper, one that cut through Melody’s self-indulgence like a scalpel.

  ‘In some ways it was a relief to leave. I could concentrate on work, forget my pain and not have to put up with the quiet whispers in the hospital corridors. So, Dr Janeway, you are not the only one to have encountered the horrible hospital grapevine.’

  Melody nodded once, acknowledging his words. ‘But I can’t escape,’ she said softly. ‘This is where I’m employed and although I plan to focus on my research, I still have to be Acting Director until the hospital appoints a successor. This is the hospital where I’ve been gossiped about before. It may not have been of the magnitude of yours but, still, the words, the looks—they can really hurt and I’m sick of it happening.’ Her words were calm as she gazed up at him. She dabbed the tears from her eyes.

  ‘Melody, I—’

  ‘I’m going home now.’

  He gazed at her for a long, drawn out moment and the whole world seemed to slip away, leaving the two of them the only people on earth. They’d connected. In five long, hectic days they’d made a dramatic connection and one where Melody had fallen madly in love with the man in front of her.

 

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