by Leah Martyn
Nikki’s last patient for the day was Sonia Reed. ‘We’re just passing through,’ the young woman said a bit awkwardly. ‘My family owns a small circus.’
Nikki smiled. ‘What an interesting lifestyle.’
‘Most of the time.’ Sonia’s blue eyes clouded momentarily. ‘But I have a three-year-old now and it does get a bit hectic trying to keep her amused while we’re on the road.’
‘I’m sure it does.’ Nikki waited, realising it was going to take time for Sonia Reed to get to the reason for her visit.
‘The thing is, Dr Barrett…’ Nervously, Sonia interlinked her fingers and held them against her chest. ‘I, uh, was at the local laundrette yesterday and I got talking to a couple of other mums there…’
‘As you do,’ Nikki came in with a twinkle.
Sonia nodded. ‘We got talking about our kids. And about their health.’ She swallowed and then said with a rush, ‘They said you were very tuned in to your patients.’
‘Well, thank you for the compliment.’ Nikki gave a slight smile. ‘So, is there something I can help you with today?’
‘It’s my daughter—Emily.’ Sonia met Nikki’s gaze uncertainly. ‘She’s been diagnosed with atopic eczema. She was prescribed a steroid cream.’
‘And was there a problem with that?’ Nikki wanted to know. It was the standard treatment after all.
‘It doesn’t seem to be getting any better and I wondered if there was anything new on the market I could try.’
Nikki stifled a sigh. She didn’t like diagnosing off the cuff like this. ‘Was there a reason you didn’t bring Emily with you today?’
Sonia looked uncomfortable. ‘I…just thought I’d ask while we were here in Wirilda. Em’s been so scratchy and irritable with the rash. She finally dropped off to sleep so I just thought while I had a spare minute I’d come in and ask. It’ll be ages before we get back to one of the big towns again.’
Nikki sensed the young mother’s anguish, sympathising with her dilemma. It must be disconcerting to be forever on the move with no family doctor nearby, no place to really call home. ‘Well, as far as atopic eczema is concerned, its presence is usually related to allergies,’ she said carefully. ‘Diet also plays a part. So it follows that any food that may be aggravating Emily’s condition should be avoided. Did you see a dietitian somewhere along the line?’
Sonia shook her head. ‘It was just a little rural hospital where I took her initially. The doctor did suggest I see someone when I got back to the city…’
Nikki’s gaze widened in query. ‘When do you leave Wirilda?’
‘Probably midmorning tomorrow. We’ve a show tonight.’
‘Could you pop Emily in to see me before you leave, do you think? I’ll check her over and make sure there’s nothing else beside the eczema worrying her.’
‘Yes, I can do that.’ Sonia leaned forward earnestly. ‘And you mentioned diet, Dr Barrett. Is there something I could be doing to help her? Anything?’
‘Well, you could certainly note if there are any foods that seem to make Emily’s eczema worse.’ Nikki pulled her pad towards her and began writing. ‘The culprits are sometimes milk, wheat and maybe orange juice. If there is a likely suspect, avoid it for a week or two and see if Emily’s condition improves.’
‘That sounds simple enough.’
‘It is, Sonia, but this is where the advice of a dietitian is essential. If you take Emily off one food, you should be supplementing it with another more suitable one. If you don’t, she could become deficient in some nutrient by avoiding that food. Does that make sense?’
Sonia bit her lips together and nodded. ‘Maybe it’s time Marcus and I left the circus and settled somewhere…’
And that was one minefield she had no intention of accompanying her patient through, Nikki thought grimly. Lord knew, she had enough of her own lying in wait. Instead, she tried to lighten the atmosphere.
‘There are a few old-fashioned methods that still work for eczema, you know. For instance, getting rid of the soap often helps. Instead, use an oat sock.’
‘Sorry?’ Sonia blinked.
Nikki grinned. ‘It’s very simple. Just cut off the foot from an old pair of your tights and fill it with a couple of handfuls of rolled oats. Use it instead of soap when you bathe Emily.’
‘And that’ll help?’
‘It’s very good for the skin in general. Much more economical too.’ Nikki got to her feet, signalling the consultation was at an end. There was nothing more she cared to add until she’d examined the child. ‘Make an appointment for tomorrow with Grace as you leave.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘I’ll check Emily over and we’ll go from there.’
Liam drove back into the town centre. It was late and he was tired. All the way home his thoughts had been pulling him every which way.
He wondered what kind of day Nikki had had. Had there been any emergencies? Would she have coped? His mouth tightened. Silly question. Her coping skills these days continued to amaze him.
And intimidate him.
When she’d first arrived in Wirilda, he’d entertained vague thoughts she might have needed him. In his innermost heart he admitted he’d wanted her to. But, within the practice at least, she’d proved beyond any shadow of doubt that those days were gone. Nikki Barrett was her own person. And it appeared that was how she preferred it.
‘Oh, hell!’
He called in briefly at the surgery in case there was anything needing his attention. Apart from a few e-mails Grace had printed out and left for him, there was nothing urgent.
Unloading the patient files he’d taken with him for his outlying clinic, he made a cursory security check throughout the building. Everything was spot on. He blew out a short sigh and turned, making his way out through the front door to the car port.
Nikki’s nerves were shredding. She’d heard the subdued phut-phut of the Land Rover as Liam had come up the drive and slid into the carport.
He was home at last.
The reality sent her heart swooping like a drunken butterfly, the sweet sting of anticipation slithering up her spine. Agitatedly, she touched a hand to the silky fabric of her skirt, wondering belatedly whether she’d gone over the top.
But this evening, for reasons she couldn’t even begin to fathom, she’d wanted to look special for Liam. Instead of her usual shorts and T-shirt, she’d pulled out one of the only two dresses she’d brought with her, slipping it on quickly before she could change her mind.
What she’d chosen was a new-look summer creation she’d bought at the Coast. The top, what there was of it, was held up with tiny shoestring straps while the frilly hemline of the skirt bounced sexily around her calves.
Looking in the mirror, she’d decided she loved the saffron colour, its vibrancy showing off her tanned complexion. And just wearing such a dress made her feel cool and feminine—and something else. Desirable?
Almost mechanically, Liam hitched up his medical case from the passenger seat and swung out of the Land Rover, wishing he could slough off the dismal mood that seemed to have settled on him.
Making his way through the courtyard, he brought his head up sharply, sniffing the air. Something smelt good and the aroma was coming from the kitchen.
Suddenly he felt a lightness in his step, a twist of excitement ambushing him out of nowhere. At the top of the steps he paused and looked around him. His jaw dropped.
This had to be Nikki’s doing.
The wooden outdoor table was set elegantly for dinner, white cloth, cutlery and glasses sparkling in the subdued lamplight, the scent of a potted jasmine lending an almost sensual pleasure to the atmosphere.
He stared past the cacti in their bright pots to the tall candles waiting to be lit. And drew in a sharp breath. Just what kind of statement was his former wife making? What kind of response did she want from him? Strands of emotion unravelled, knotting his gut, intermingling with the oddest kind of pain he couldn’t account for.
Oh, damn. Blinking,
he turned up his head and the ceiling blurred and momentarily went out of focus. Double damn. So many dreams lost. So much of their lives thrown away…
He blew out a huge controlling breath and squared his shoulders. He couldn’t stand here all night. Swallowing convulsively, he made his way slowly across the deck towards the kitchen.
‘Nikki?’
‘In here.’ Nikki’s throat was so dry she could hardly speak.
‘Hi…’ Liam slid his case into a corner and then straightened, his heart beating so heavily he could feel it thundering inside his chest. ‘Are we having a party?’
Nikki shook her head, the action sending highlights bouncing off her short little bob. ‘You’ve had such a long day…’ She paused and licked her lips. ‘I thought you deserved a treat.’
‘Looking at you is quite a treat in itself.’ His gaze flickered all the way down her body and back again. ‘You look stunning, Nik…’
‘It’s the dress.’ She blushed, her hand flying to her chest to cover the peep of cleavage. ‘Uh, glass of wine or would you like a shower first?’
‘A shower, I think.’ His mouth curled ruefully. ‘I’d kill for a nice long soak.’
‘Wishful thinking, Doctor. I’ve done lamb with rosemary for dinner,’ she tacked on breathlessly.
‘Our rosemary?’ His smile was teasing.
‘Of course.’ Something boiled over on the stove and with a little gasp she turned to rescue it, her concentration shot to pieces.
‘Did you burn yourself?’ Liam was right behind her.
‘I’m fine.’ She flapped her fingers for a second, before quickly turning the heat down.
‘Show me.’ His hand reached out to circle her wrist.
‘Liam, it’s fine,’ she protested on a laugh.
‘Let me fix it,’ he countered softly. Lifting her hand, he pressed an achingly slow kiss to the tender underside of her wrist. ‘There you are. All better…’
Nikki took a shallow breath. Suddenly, inexplicably, the atmosphere was charged with danger like the hidden undertow of a giant wave. She made a tiny sound in her throat. Her eyes, wide and slightly startled, met his and her lips parted a fraction.
It was too much for Liam. His throat worked as he rasped her name, drawing her into his arms and lowering his mouth to hers.
Her lips tasted like nectar, so soft, so giving, parting to allow him access. He heard her whimper as she signalled her need, sliding her arms around his waist and urging him closer.
A convulsive shiver ran through him. The slow-burning heat he’d struggled to contain for the past weeks raged out of control, the feel of her ripe, warm body pressed against him almost sending him over the edge. All the suppressed passion of the past six years rose up, demanding release.
Nikki. He wanted her, needed her in a way he’d forgotten he could need, and only the dark reminder that she was no longer his wife stopped him from scooping her up and taking her through to the wide double bed.
On a sharp indrawn breath he pulled back, staring down into the liquid depths of her eyes. They were glistening pools of desire. Wanting him.
‘Wow…’ Nikki took a little jagged breath, just resisting the compulsion to slide her hand down the opening of his shirt and feel the contours of his chest with her palm. She stepped back, a residual heat shooting through her leaving her weak and trembling. ‘You OK…?’
He looked at her through half-closed eyes. ‘No.’
‘Um…perhaps a shower will help,’ she said softly, her voice gliding like silk over his nerve ends.
His dark head on an angle, he looked broodingly at her. ‘Perhaps I’d better make it a cold one.’
Liam came out on the deck a little later, showered and dressed in jeans and a soft white shirt.
‘Feeling better?’ Nikki looked up from lighting the last of the candles. ‘Oh, lord.’ Her laugh was fractured, nerves gripping her insides like tentacles. ‘I sound like your doctor.’
‘You are my doctor.’
She swallowed drily. Even in the subdued light she could feel the intensity of his gaze. ‘We’re just about ready.’
‘Like me to open the wine?’
She lifted a hand and held it to her throat. ‘Ah…yes, if you wouldn’t mind. And carve the roast?’
His eyes swept her from head to toe. ‘My pleasure.’
‘This is fantastic, Nik.’ Liam complimented her, as the dessert’s tangy Jaffa flavour slid over his tongue.
Nikki shrugged. ‘These days I enjoy preparing food.’ She didn’t add there was something very sensual about preparing food for one’s lover. Except Liam wasn’t her lover. Not now. Perhaps he never would be again.
‘What happened to us, Nik?’ As if he’d read her thoughts, Liam slowly drew his gaze from his now-empty dessert glass to her.
Nikki took refuge in flippancy. ‘We stuffed up, Liam. Big time.’ With fingers that shook she crushed her serviette and dropped it beside her plate. ‘Cup of tea?’
He ignored her question. Instead, he reached out and stilled her hand. ‘We could have had a child by now…’ His thumb began smoothing gently over her knuckles. ‘A sassy little girl like her mother. I look at you and still want you like crazy, Nik.’
Her throat lumped. ‘Yes, well…’
‘I think I get to you too,’ he murmured. ‘And it’s not the same. It’s better. So much better.’
‘Liam…’ She swallowed again, harder. His thumb was sending shivers through her arm.
‘Do you want me, Nikki?’
A quiet desperation settled over her. She pulled her hand away. ‘I never did get over you. No one else has ever made me feel the way you do—did.’
‘Have you had many lovers?’
Her heart kicked and she swallowed. ‘Don’t ask those kinds of question, Liam. I’m not answering them. Once the divorce was made absolute, to all intents and purposes we were single again. Anyway, I’ve been too busy working to have any time for lovers.’
His fist clenched on the tablecloth. ‘I almost got engaged once.’
‘You did?’ Nikki was alarmed at the stab of jealousy she felt. ‘What happened?’
He jerked a shoulder self-deprecatingly. ‘We were both carrying baggage. What we had was a kind of clutching-at-straws scenario. Thank heaven, we woke up and decided to end it. It was pretty soon after that I came to Wirilda.’
In the short silence that followed, Nikki’s thoughts flew back to when she and Liam had first met. Pictures flashed quickly, randomly through her mind. The way he’d kept glancing at her when they’d sat across from each other at one of the long tables in the university library.
And he’d cleared his throat and asked her opinion about something. And she’d given it and he’d listened as if every word she’d uttered had been edged with gold. And when, finally, they’d left the library and gone for a coffee together, she’d felt as though she’d known him for ever. But how wrong she’d been. As later events had proved, she hadn’t really known him at all…
‘So…why did you really come to Wirilda, Nikki?’
She swooped back to the present with a ragged sigh. Why had she come? She hardly knew any more. ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. After MSF, my skills were hardly being stretched in a state-of-the-art city practice.’
‘I could have been married again.’ His eyes never left her face. ‘Would you have still wanted to come?’
‘I knew you weren’t.’
He looked taken aback. And then his dark brows kicked together in a frown. ‘I suppose you had your father check me out.’
Her heart twisted painfully. ‘My father has no influence over my life these days.’
He laughed shortly. ‘Until it suits him.’
‘Just leave my father out of this!’ Nikki felt her nerve-ends stretching to their fragile limits. ‘If you must know, I’ve kept in touch with Clare. She told me.’
‘My mother?’ he rasped. ‘Good grief!’ He rocked back in his chair and thrust his gaze up towards the
ceiling.
‘We’ve always got on together,’ Nikki justified, picking up her serviette again and twisting it through her fingers. A tiny smile activated the dimple in her cheek. ‘Clare still sends me a card on my birthday.’
‘The two of you.’ Liam sounded as though he still couldn’t believe it. ‘In cahoots.’
Nikki gave an impatient little tsk. ‘You’re acting as though there’s something odd about keeping in touch. Clare and I were once related by marriage.’
Liam scrubbed lean fingers across his cheekbones. ‘I’m well aware of that. Do you want to be again?’ he tacked on softly. ‘Is that why you came to Wirilda, Nikki? To give us another shot at being married?’
‘I…’ She bit down on her bottom lip. ‘I did really want to help you in the practice. And…I thought perhaps if we got to know each other again…’ She found her eyes drawn helplessly to his.
‘I’d never let you walk away a second time, Nikki.’
‘You were the one who walked,’ she pointed out, her voice raw with emotion.
‘Semantics.’ He rocked his hand dismissively and a bleak kind of silence settled over them.
When the phone rang, it took several seconds for either of them to register the fact. Then they both went to move but Liam got to his feet first. ‘I’ll get it.’
‘You just want to stick me with the washing-up.’ Nikki tried for lightness, somehow grateful for the interruption.
‘That was Brett Gilroy.’ Liam strode back into the kitchen a little later, his expression serious.
‘The sergeant?’ Nikki placed the tray of washing-up on the sink.
‘What’s up?’
‘Couple of tourists in strife—well, one is. He’s fallen down a disused well. His mate walked about five kilometres back to get help.’
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Nikki glanced at her watch. ‘When did all this happen?’
‘Some time this afternoon, it seems.’
She gazed at Liam in disbelief. ‘Didn’t they have a mobile?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘When will tourists realise the vastness of this country?’ Nikki snapped her disapproval. ‘Some of them are totally ill-prepared for emergencies. They wander off as though they’re going for a stroll through the Botanic Gardens!’