The Family She's Longed For

by Lucy Clark

  ‘I think we both have,’ he added. ‘The question is, where do we go from here?’

  He couldn’t help but look at her lips as he spoke, remembering all too vividly just how incredible it had been to kiss that mouth. In the past, their lips had meshed with perfect synchronicity. Would it be the same now?

  When she looked at him again, he was positive he saw repressed desire in her eyes. Was that possible? Did Clara want him to kiss her? When she stared at his lips before meeting his gaze once more, he was certain those were the signals she was sending.

  ‘I—I don’t know.’

  The words were barely a whisper, but he heard them. Virgil cleared his throat, needing to break this moment, needing to take things slowly even though he wanted nothing more than to follow through on that urge. Clara followed suit, both of them turning their attention to the little girl still enjoying playing with her toys in the bath.

  ‘Rosie means the world to me, Clara. I’ve cut my workload in half so we can have more time together. It was one of the major reasons for moving back to Loggeen. I loved growing up here, and I know it’s the best thing for Rosie. She’ll make close friends, have people watching out for her, caring about her. It will make a vast difference to her life,’ Virgil continued.

  Rosie looked across at both of them, standing outside the bathroom, and held out her hands to them. ‘Look! Look!’

  Both adults went into the bathroom and over to the tub. Clara crouched down and looked at the toy Rosie was holding out to her.

  ‘Oooh! A turtle. What’s his name?’

  ‘Mr Turtle,’ Rosie said, as though that was completely obvious.

  While Clara was inspecting Mr Turtle, Rosie took great delight in bringing one hand firmly down onto the surface of the water.

  Splash!

  With one single motion they were thoroughly wet. They both laughed, which made Rosie think she should do it again.

  ‘Funny!’ She giggled before splashing once more.

  ‘I think that’s enough, scallywag.’ Virgil smiled but spoke firmly, so the child understood he wasn’t playing games.

  ‘She’d get along so well with my nieces. Mischief. All three of them are pure mischief.’

  ‘It would be great to meet them,’ Virgil said as he reached into the bath for a washcloth and began quickly washing his daughter. ‘Gwenda’s enrolled Rosie in a playgroup, but that’s only one day a week. Meeting other children would be really good.’

  ‘I’ll call Maybelle and get her to set up a play date.’

  ‘Sounds fun—I think?’

  ‘What? Three little girls aged three and under? Sounds like madness to me!’

  She laughed, and the sound washed over him like the breeze on a fresh summer’s day. He marvelled at how natural Clara was with his daughter. He watched the way she scooped his daughter carefully out of the bath and wrapped her in the waiting towel before drawing Rosie closer.

  ‘Cuddle this little girl dry!’

  She wriggled Rosie from side to side, making the child laugh. The sound was music to his heart.

  ‘Come on—let’s get you to your room and dressed for bed.’

  Gwenda was ready and waiting to take over. Rosie’s arms went out to her and she smiled gleefully. Clara watched as Gwenda quickly dried and dressed the wriggling toddler, amazed at the other woman’s speed at performing the task.

  ‘Give Daddy a kiss goodnight,’ Gwenda instructed, and Rosie instantly puckered her little lips for her father. ‘And a cuddle and kiss for Clara.’ That was Gwenda’s next order.

  Rosie eyed Clara briefly, before holding out her arms for a cuddle. A lump caught in Clara’s throat as she held the child tenderly, closing her eyes to savour the moment.

  A kiss was placed on her cheek, then Rosie marched back into the bathroom proclaiming, ‘Teef time,’ and waited patiently for Gwenda to hand her the toothbrush.

  ‘Goodnight, darling.’ Virgil kissed her again and motioned for Clara to leave.

  ‘Don’t you put her to bed?’ Clara asked as they walked downstairs.

  ‘Usually—but tonight, considering you’re here, Gwenda will do it.’

  ‘Please,’ Clara implored, ‘I don’t want to disrupt the routine. You go back up and I’ll let myself out.’

  ‘Just like that—you’re leaving?’ He quirked an eyebrow at her.

  Clara shrugged and looked down at her hands. ‘I think I should.’

  There had already been several moments tonight when she’d fallen in thrall to Virgil Arterton once again. Hadn’t she given herself a stern lecture before she’d arrived? Hadn’t she told herself to keep her distance and not let his natural boyish charm infect her? Yet when they’d been standing in the hallway outside the bathroom, all she’d wanted was to feel the touch of his lips on hers, to taste the delight only he had been able to give her, to breathe in his scent and allow herself to drown in it.

  Virgil really was as dangerous to her sense of self-preservation as she’d expected. The fact that after all this time, she’d only tonight realised she still wasn’t over him, was perhaps the revelation she’d needed in order to find the strength to leave his presence.

  ‘But why? Why do you need to rush off?’ He reached out and took her hand gently in his own.

  Clara bit her lip. If she told him the truth he would know she wasn’t over him. He would know that the instant she’d seen him again, her heart had leapt with joy and delight but she’d quashed it. It was true things hadn’t turned out the way either of them had wanted, but the past was the past and the present was the present—and hopefully the present might lead to a future she’d often dreamed about.

  Was it possible? Was it really possible that she and Virgil could have a fresh start?

  Everything he’d done and said since returning to Loggeen—the way he treated the staff he worked with, the way he was thoughtful and considerate of his patients, not to mention his doting daddy routine with Rosie—all of it, every aspect of his personality, was showing her that he had changed.

  Even the way he was now holding her hand, stroking her skin while gazing into her eyes as though he really couldn’t get enough of her, rather than just taking charge of the situation, was different. He was letting her choose whether this was the road she wanted to take. He was proving that he’d listened to her when she’d said she just wanted to be friends.

  She did want to be friends, but was it wrong for her to want more? If they changed the nature of their friendship wouldn’t history simply repeat itself?

  Clara swallowed, looking at those blue eyes she’d always loved to stare into. Her mind was in turmoil, her body betraying every rational thought she had, in its need for the man before her.

  ‘Virgil...’ His name was a whispered caress and her heart began to pound even more wildly against her chest as he closed the distance between them.

  They were standing at the bottom of the stairs, the lounge room in one direction, the front door in the other. She should leave. She knew she should leave. But that was her head talking, not her heart. Her heart was hammering out a rhythm which wanted to urge him closer, urge him to lower his head, urge him to kiss her just as he had so many times in the past.

  ‘Clara?’

  Her name was a question upon his lips, and she knew Virgil was offering her a way out of this bubble filled with desire and need, which seemed to have captured both of them.

  She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to. She wanted this. She wanted to kiss him. And, if she was honest with herself, she was curious to see whether the magic which had flared between them so many years ago, was still present.

  ‘Clara...’ He murmured her name again. ‘If you keep standing here I’m not going to be able to resist you.’

  His words only fuelled the fire within her.

  �
��There are too many...’ She paused, her words breathless, her tone filled with repressed desire as she gazed longingly at his mouth once more.

  He was her Virgil. He’d burst back into her life and turned her contented world upside down. How was she supposed to resist him when he looked so perfect? When he smelled so good? When he was being the perfect gentleman and allowing her to choose what happened next? What would happen if she did kiss him now? What would it change?

  The answer came hard and fast after the question. It would change everything—and Clara wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

  ‘Virgil...’ She breathed his name again, then closed her eyes and found the superhuman strength from somewhere to edge backwards. Swallowing, she looked into his handsome face, shaking her head. ‘I need—’ She licked her dry lips. ‘I need more time.’

  His gaze dropped to encompass her lips one last time before he nodded and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a long, tender kiss to her knuckles.

  ‘Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘WHY AREN’T YOU in your bed? You’re supposed to be sleeping by now.’ Clara spoke lovingly to her dog as she entered her apartment.

  Darling Juzzy always insisted on greeting her whenever she came home, and tonight Clara really needed it.

  ‘I’m so confused, Juzzy,’ she told the dog as she checked Juzzy’s automatic food, and bubbling water dispensers. Yes, Juzzy had enough food and fresh water. As Clara continued to talk, the dog followed her around the apartment. ‘One minute I think everything is going great between myself and Virgil, and the next I just don’t know.’

  As Clara prepared for bed she thought back to those intense moments she’d shared with Virgil at the bottom of the staircase. How was it possible that the man could still get her all hot and bothered with only one look?

  It was a look that said, I want you, Clara. I need you, Clara. I adore you, Clara. How could one glance say so much and cause her to forget her resolve to remain as friends? She couldn’t believe how tempted she’d been to close the distance between them and press her lips to his. He had been waiting for her to do just that, but when she’d moved back, deciding not to follow through on the impulse, he hadn’t made any effort to talk her round as he would have in the past. He’d let her take control of the situation and it had only made her appreciate him more.

  Getting involved in a romantic relationship with him would make her life way more complicated than it needed to be. Wasn’t she in a good place with her life? Wasn’t she happy? She’d told Virgil only a few weeks ago that she was more than content with her life, but now here she was questioning that decision. Yes, she was pleased with how she’d managed to pull her life back together, but what if there was more happiness just waiting for her to claim it? What if being with Virgil was her destiny?

  Then there was Rosie. Virgil’s gorgeous daughter had stolen her heart, so what would happen if things progressed between them and Rosie became attached? That would be all well and good if everything worked out between herself and Virgil, but given their history there was no guarantee.

  The last thing Clara wanted to do was to hurt the child, but the real question was, could she completely trust Virgil again? Would he turn on her as he had in the past? If she made a decision he didn’t agree with, would he try persuading her to change her mind? She’d stood her ground last time, and she’d do it again, but would she be able to cope with yet another heartbreak? She wasn’t so sure.

  ‘Am I overreacting?’ she asked the dog as she finished brushing her teeth and climbed beneath the covers.

  Juzzy looked up at her expectantly, and when Clara gave in and patted the bedcovers beside her, the dog climbed up the little step stool and jumped up onto the bed, snuggling next to Clara.

  She stroked the dog, the rhythmic movements helping her to relax. ‘I like him, Juzzy. I like this new and improved version of Virgil. And if this is our second chance—well, I don’t want to blow it.’

  There was still a long way to go—a lot of things which needed to be discussed. She needed to tell him about the outcome of her devastating accident and just how it had changed the course of her life. Yes, it had taken a lot of rehabilitation to put herself back together, but with the help of her family and close friends she’d managed it. Yes, there were lasting devastating repercussions, and, yes, those issues might be detrimental to the rekindling of the frighteningly natural chemistry which seemed to exist between herself and Virgil.

  If things were going to get permanently serious between them, she needed to know how he felt about having more children. She wanted children. She really did, but due to the accident her badly crushed pelvis and subsequent surgeries had put paid to any possibility of her ever carrying a child. Clara had endured several years of both physical and psychological therapy in order to recover from the effects of the accident—the main one being that to start with, she’d felt less of a woman simply because she’d never have children.

  ‘You don’t need to carry a child inside you and give birth just to prove you’re a woman,’ her psychologist had told her. ‘Many women don’t go through the trauma you’ve endured—women who, medically, have nothing wrong with them—and yet they still can’t conceive naturally. You’re not alone in the way you feel, Clara. In fact, given the extent of your injuries, it’s a miracle you’re walking. Perhaps you need to cut yourself some slack...be a bit kinder to yourself. Not all women need children to complete their lives.’

  The problem was she did, and spending time with her nieces and Rosie only intensified that sensation. Being with Virgil’s little girl, hearing her giggle, seeing the way she wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and pressed wet and sloppy kisses to his cheek, had only made her yearn to have a little mischief-maker of her own—hers and Virgil’s.

  That had always been the plan. The two of them together. The two of them getting married and raising a family. That had been all she’d wanted for so long, and now—now that there was the slightest possibility it might happen—she was scared that should Virgil learn the truth, learn that she could never have children, he might reject her for a second time.

  ‘You’re borrowing trouble,’ she told herself aloud as she switched on the radio, allowing the soothing classical music being played to calm her mind.

  She needed to sleep, and in order to do that she needed to shut her mind down—and that meant she needed to stop worrying about what might or might not happen with Virgil.

  ‘Easier said than done,’ she whispered to Juzzy.

  * * *

  For the next week Clara made sure she was polite and professional every time she came into contact with Virgil. It wasn’t that she was trying to avoid him, but rather she was trying to come to terms with the numerous events which had happened since he’d re-entered her life. She’d tried not to overthink the time they’d already spent together, which was difficult for her as her family had used to joke that she should hold a degree in overthinking things.

  If things were going to move smoothly between herself and the gorgeous man working alongside her, then Clara knew she needed to relax more.

  It wasn’t until she was doing her second Saturday night shift at the hospital that he caught up with her. It was just after eleven p.m., and he’d been in Theatre for the past five hours with a motor vehicle accident patient. He was still in scrubs as he walked over to the nurses’ station, where she was busy typing information into the computer, and slumped down into the chair beside her.

  ‘So, have you been avoiding me or have we both just been insanely busy this past week?’

  ‘Definitely busy—although I have enjoyed our game of voicemail tag.’

  He chuckled at her words, then looked around the ED. ‘Slow night?’

  ‘Shh.’ She frowned. ‘Don’t ever say that. Saying that is l
ike begging for a horde of patients to come bursting through the doors.’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t exactly burst,’ he pointed out. ‘They’d have to go through triage first, and then sit in the waiting room for—’

  ‘Stop being so pedantic,’ she interrupted. ‘How’s Rosie?’

  Changing the subject to his daughter was a good distraction. Clara was able to finish entering the information into the computer before saving the files. Once that was done she began clearing up the desk in front of her, needing to do something to distract her from Virgil’s close proximity. How could the man still smell so sexy after such a long stint in Theatre?

  ‘She’s settling in well. Your sister-in-law got in touch with Gwenda, and I think they’ve arranged a play date for tomorrow. Thanks for mentioning it to Maybelle. The more little friends Rosie can make, the better—and, besides, I’m looking forward to meeting them.’

  He passed Clara a few paperclips which were on the long desk, close to where he was sitting. She accepted them with a nod and put them into the paperclip container, ensuring their hands didn’t touch so she wouldn’t have to endure that overpowering zing of awareness which occurred every time Virgil’s fingers came into contact with hers.

  ‘Is Rosie excited to meet the twins?’

  ‘She is—and it’ll do her good to learn to share her toys.’

  ‘Is she enjoying the clock?’

  ‘Oh, she loves it. You chose a winner there. Although both those songs have become permanently lodged in my psyche and I’ve found myself humming Brahms’ “Lullaby” several times of a morning.’ He tapped the side of head with the heel of his hand, as though trying to dislodge the ear worm.

  ‘Glad to be of service!’ She laughed.

  The desk was now shipshape and everything was tidied away. What could she do next to distract her? His nearness was already creating havoc with her senses, and it was all she could do not to stop herself from leaning close to him and doing the one thing she’d been dreaming about for the past week—pressing a kiss to his lips. Didn’t the man realise just how addictive he could be?