by Lucy Clark
‘Perhaps you should head home and get some rest. If Rosie’s anything like my nieces, she wakes up early.’
‘That she does—and she loves coming into Daddy’s bed to cuddle him for a few minutes and then jump on him for half an hour in an effort to ensure he’s really awake.’
Clara laughed. He liked seeing her smile.
‘Listen, are you free tomorrow afternoon? I know you’ll be here until the morning shift arrives, and then you’ll need to sleep, but after that—’
Clara shook her head. ‘I’m looking after the girls tomorrow afternoon and evening. Maybelle has a shift, and Arthur’s away this weekend in Sydney at a conference.’
‘How about next weekend?’
She hesitated. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Perhaps a picnic in the park. You, me and Rosie.’
‘Can I bring my dog? Fuzzy-Juzzy loves the park.’
Virgil grinned, realising she couldn’t have given him a better response to his invitation. ‘I’d love to meet your dog—as, I’m sure, would Rosie.’
‘OK, well—emergencies permitting—it’s a date.’
Virgil reached for her hand, giving it a little squeeze. ‘It’s a date,’ he reiterated, more than delighted that she was accepting this new level of their relationship.
As he headed home he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He’d told Clara about his marriage, not hiding from her his own faults in the scenario, and she’d accepted him. He could still feel the burning heat on his lips where hers had brushed his—oh, so gently and filled with compassion.
Yes, they’d both been through a lot, and he knew that whilst Clara had told him she’d been in an accident, she hadn’t talked about it further. The fact that she’d been in hospital and rehabilitation for so long could only mean the accident had been quite horrific. The patient he’d operated on earlier tonight would require future surgery, and it made him wonder exactly what Clara’s injuries had been.
She might be willing to spend time with him, to get to know his daughter, introduce him to her dog, but that didn’t mean she was willing to trust him. He had so much at stake here, and he wanted to do whatever he could to ensure they had the opportunity of a future. But with one wrong move Clara might reject him for ever.
Sure, he’d go on with his life—working, parenting, existing—but without Clara by his side, sharing, laughing, loving, his world would feel like an empty shell. He’d lived that sort of life with Diana, appearing happy on the outside but feeling hollow and broken on the inside. Clara was the only one who could fix him, make him whole again.
He had to continue to hope. Hope that everything would turn out all right in the end and that he and Clara would get their happily-ever-after. Because if they didn’t, he knew he’d end up in the pit of despair—and he really didn’t want to go back there again.
* * *
To say Fuzzy-Juzzy was excited to be going out with her mistress was an understatement.
‘I need to take you out more,’ she told the dog.
Yes, they went for their daily walks, and if Clara wasn’t able to take Juzzy then Maybelle and Arthur would take the Pomeranian whenever they took their own dogs for a walk. Still, having time to take Juzzy to the park was a luxury they were both going to enjoy.
When she arrived at the park, late Saturday afternoon, her clinic and house-calls completed for another week, she saw Virgil pushing Rosie on the swings and couldn’t help the instant smile which beamed on her face. She parked her car and came around to the passenger side to get the excited Fuzzy-Juzzy from the back seat. She clipped the leash to Juzzy’s collar and headed towards Rosie and Virgil.
‘Higher, Daddy!’ Rosie was calling.
‘Well, well, well. Don’t you look lovely?’ Virgil stated as Clara walked up to him, reining Juzzy in a little closer to her side. ‘Hey, Rosie, look who’s here!’ Virgil reached out and carefully grabbed the swing, gently slowing it down. ‘It’s Clara, and she’s brought someone new for you to meet.’
When Rosie saw the dog she clapped her hands with delight, and found it difficult to sit still long enough for Virgil to unclip the restraints which had held the little girl firmly in the swing.
‘There you go, wriggle-pot,’ he said, and helped her to the ground.
Rosie instantly raced over to Clara and Juzzy, running both her small chubby hands through the dog’s fur. Juzzy yapped excitedly at this new undivided attention from a little girl. Then the dog was tugging on her leash, as though eager to go for a walk.
‘Why don’t we take Juzzy for a walk? We have quite a few hours before the sun starts to set.’
‘True—and Gwenda made Rosie have a sleep earlier, so my daughter is well rested and can stay up past her bedtime.’
‘Yay!’ Rosie had clearly overheard the last bit.
‘Just for tonight, sweetheart,’ he warned as they started walking along the waterfront.
Rosie wanted to have a go at holding Juzzy’s leash, and after giving her a lesson in how to hold it, so it didn’t hurt her hand, Rosie and Juzzy ran off. Juzzy stopped every now and then to sniff out all sorts of nooks and crannies. It was funny to watch as the dog took the toddler for a walk!
Virgil held out his hand to her. ‘May I hold your hand whilst we stroll, ma’am?’ he asked, and Clara couldn’t help but giggle at his proper, gentlemanly behaviour.
She nodded eagerly and a moment later his soft fingers were laced with her own, the warmth from his touch spreading up her arm to burst throughout her body with delight. They strolled along hand in hand for a while, with Rosie very content to be in charge of the dog but often having a disagreement with Juzzy as to which way they should head next.
Clara knew that if Juzzy started leading Rosie off towards a dangerous path—perhaps towards the lake they were walking around—then all Clara needed to do was give a little whistle and the dog would turn and come straight to her. Years of puppy school were finally paying off.
When it looked as though Rosie was starting to get tired they decided to head back towards the car, where Virgil had left the picnic basket and a rug.
‘It is so nice to get away from the hospital and the clinic,’ Clara remarked as they started tucking into the picnic Gwenda had packed.
Clara had brought some food for Juzzy and the dog was more than happy to sit near them and eat up.
‘And this cold chicken and salad is yummy.’
‘Yummy,’ Rosie repeated, before Virgil once again told his daughter not to give the dog her lettuce.
Virgil picked up the bottle of wine and gestured to Clara’s glass. ‘More?’
‘Just half a glass, please.’ Clara lazed back on the rug and joined him in watching the child eat as though she’d never been fed before. ‘Rosie certainly likes her food. It’s not always easy to get children to eat.’
‘She has her days. A few months ago she would only eat breakfast, so Gwenda made sure it was a breakfast packed with as many of the five food groups as she could. Besides, as long as they drink enough fluids, they won’t waste away.’
Clara sighed. ‘She really is adorable, Virgil. You are a lucky man.’
‘She’s not always such an angel.’ He chuckled. ‘Sometimes there are smiles all round—the next it’s tantrum after tantrum.’
‘Rosie?’ Clara joked. ‘Have a tantrum?’
Virgil grinned. ‘Generally she’s a happy little princess, and one thing I know for sure: she’s my little girl and I wouldn’t be without her. I know I finally have my priorities right.’
They sat in a companionable silence as the pressures of life seemed to ebb away. ‘It’s so peaceful here,’ Clara murmured as Juzzy snuggled up next to her.
A moment later, Rosie decided she wanted to be a dog, like Juzzy, and settled herself down on Clara’s lap. Rosie pretended to bark and s
tick her tongue out, breathing fast like she’d seen Juzzy do.
‘Good doggie,’ Clara praised, and patted Rosie on the head.
Snuggling in closer, Rosie leaned against Clara, yawning and sighing, clearly displaying her contentment. Clara absorbed the gorgeousness of the child, knowing she would love nothing more than to become a mother to the precious little moppet. The child and her daddy were proving far too hard to resist.
‘I think she likes you,’ Virgil remarked softly as he sipped his wine.
‘You think so? Or is she just tired and I was the closest lap for a nap?’
He chuckled. ‘Children are honest.’
‘And usually have no filter whatsoever,’ she added, smiling at him.
It was nice to sit here so content, so relaxed with Virgil and his daughter. If she’d told herself two months ago that she’d be sitting in the park enjoying an evening picnic with Virgil Arterton she never would have believed it. Two months ago she’d been busy going over various scenarios to ensure she and her team were ready for the up and coming retrieval examinations. So much had changed since Virgil had re-entered her life, and she had to admit that she liked spending time with him.
‘You look quite content there, with Rosie snuggled against you.’
Clara glanced across at him, his long legs sprawled out in front of him as he propped himself up on his elbow. He was relaxed, charming and sexy.
‘Is she falling asleep?’
‘Her eyes are closed. She’ll become a bit of a dead weight soon.’
‘Oh. Do you want her to go to sleep?’
He shrugged. ‘It’ll make putting her in the car a whole lot easier.’ He shook his head. ‘The other day she went as stiff as a board. It was like she didn’t bend any more. Took me almost five minutes to get her arms into the straps and buckle her in safely.’
Clara chuckled. ‘They’re so funny, these toddlers.’ She ran her fingers gently through Rosie’s hair.
‘Do you want to have any?’
‘Toddlers?’ she queried, unsure that was what he’d meant.
‘Yeah. Babies of your own.’
At his words she looked away, dipping her head down to drop a kiss to the top of Rosie’s head, allowing her hair to slide forward and shield her face from his view.
‘I mean, I know we talked about getting married and having a family all those years ago, but is that what you still want?’
Clara’s mind was starting to slip into panic mode, telling her that she should get out of there as soon as possible, because Virgil was entering dangerous territory. Just tell him. Just tell him, her logical side was pushing. Tell him about your injuries. Tell him about your heartbreak. Tell him—
‘Clara?’ There was a hint of confusion in his tone. ‘Do you not want to have children any more?’
She lifted her head, opened her eyes and tucked her hair behind her ear, knowing she needed to address this with him—but she couldn’t do it now.
When they’d first gone out to dinner he’d declared his intentions, which were to woo her back, to spend the rest of his life with her. At the time she’d dismissed it, because she’d thought she’d be able to resist him. She’d been wrong. She’d forgotten how charming he could be. And that was the problem. He’d made her want again. He’d made her want to spend the rest of her life with him—with him and Rosie.
And no other children. Because she couldn’t give that to him. Yes, they could adopt, but would he want to? Would he be able to love a child that wasn’t biologically his? She didn’t know, and right now, after the most perfect afternoon, when they’d been happy and relaxed with each other, when they’d laughed and held hands and connected in a way they never had before, she didn’t want to ruin it.
‘Ugh—you were right about the dead weight part.’ She tried to shift. ‘I think my legs are lacking blood.’
Clara chuckled, trying to cover up her nervousness. Virgil obliged by kneeling up and lifting Rosie off Clara and into his arms, so the child rested her head on her father’s shoulder. Juzzy was also disturbed, and as Clara quickly stood, patting both her legs which were now developing pins and needles, she made sure she had hold of Juzzy’s leash.
‘I’d better get her home,’ said Virgil.
‘OK. You carry her to the car. I’ll pack up here.’
Thankfully Virgil did as she suggested, but Clara couldn’t help but feel as though she’d firmly shut the door on any hope of rekindling a deep and abiding relationship with him for ever. It was clear he knew she’d just brushed him off. That because she hadn’t answered his question—hadn’t told him that, whether or not she wanted to have children, she was physically incapable of doing so—he’d gathered his daughter up and was leaving her. Again.
This time, though, it really was her fault.
Biting her lips, to stop the tears from springing to her eyes as she quickly packed everything into the picnic basket and gathered up the rug whilst trying to ensure Juzzy didn’t run away, Clara managed to get things neat and tidy before she dragged in a soothing breath and walked on shaky legs towards Virgil’s car.
This would be over soon. He’d bid her a polite farewell, get in his car, take his daughter home, put her to bed and then figure out a way to extract himself from Clara’s life. It would happen gradually. He’d see her now and then, but whenever she would suggest getting together he’d tell her how much work he had to do, or say that Rosie needed to spend time with him and—
She stopped the negative hamster wheel from spinning in her mind. She was overthinking things again. She was borrowing trouble. She was selling Virgil short—or at least she hoped she was.
When she reached his car, she placed the basket and rug on the ground as he closed the door, Rosie safely secured inside.
‘Did she wake up?’ Clara bent to pick up Juzzy, who was starting to weave in and out of her legs, winding the leash into a knot.
‘No.’
His one-word answer pierced her heart. Short and to the point.
He collected the picnic basket and rug and stowed them in the boot of his car before jangling the keys from his finger, a sure sign that he was ready to leave her. Well, if this was it—if this was the end of any new beginning for herself and Virgil—she was going to behave with as much dignity as she could muster.
‘Thank you for suggesting this.’ She gestured to the park, the sky behind them now a lovely mix of pinks, purples and yellows. ‘Both Juzzy and I had a lovely time.’
Clara stroked Juzzy’s head as she spoke, then jerked her thumb towards her car.
‘I’m parked over there, so I’ll let you go and see you around the Specialist Centre some time.’
She turned, promising herself she could cry as much as she wanted when she arrived home.
‘Clara—wait.’ He put his hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving.
She wasn’t sure she wanted him to say the words that would bring these wonderful past weeks to an end.
‘Could you put Juzzy down on the ground for a moment?’
‘Why?’
Virgil quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘Because I don’t want the dog to get squashed when I kiss you goodnight.’
His perfect lips curved into a half-smile as he took the dog from her arms and placed the Pomeranian on the ground, putting the leash under his shoe to ensure Juzzy remained safely nearby.
A short laugh of disbelief erupted from her before she could stop it. ‘Kiss me?’
‘Yes.’ He chuckled. ‘What did you think I was going to do?’ As he spoke, he reached for her, drawing her close, sliding his arms around her waist. ‘A perfect afternoon deserves the perfect ending, and I can think of no better ending than kissing you.’
‘But—’ Clara frowned, completely thrown by his behaviour. ‘But before, when you—’
&nbs
p; It didn’t matter what she’d been about to say because it appeared Virgil could wait no longer, and he was pressing his lips to hers.
Memories flooded back at his touch—familiarity, acceptance, delight. Virgil was kissing her! Her heart sang with utter excitement. The kiss was soft and questioning, as though he was testing the waters. Slowly—ever so slowly—he moved his lips over hers, tenderly caressing and filling the emptiness she’d tried to lock away for almost six years.
For a brief moment she was certain she could feel raw passion surge through him, but in the next instant his mouth was gently exploring, gently coaxing, to ensure she was right there with him, side by side on this journey into the familiar.
This was Virgil—her Virgil—and the love she’d banished all those years ago flooded her like a raging torrent of emotions.
With ardent desire Clara leaned closer to Virgil, thinking how great it felt to feel this way again. She’d thought he would end their budding relationship tonight, but she’d been completely wrong, and it once again proved to her just how much he’d changed. He wasn’t her friend from medical school, and he wasn’t the focused surgeon eager to make a name for himself. No, the man who was presently making her feel as though she could fly, was someone with wisdom, experience and a clear direction of what he wanted out of life.
She lifted her hands to his head, lacing her fingers in his hair, ensuring his head remained in place so he would continue this sweet, sweet delight upon her senses. Her body was zinging to life, reigniting the spark from so long ago, and their pheromones were combining together to make a heady combination.
Never had she been kissed so tenderly—as though he really did cherish her. It was as though he was trying to show her that she didn’t need to be afraid of the electrifying attraction which seemed to hum every time they were near each other. He gently nipped at her lips, causing her eyelids to flutter closed with longing. She wanted to savour every aspect of his kisses, wanted to show him without saying the words just how much she loved being with him.
Eventually it was the need for air which made her tip her head back, unwillingly breaking their connection. As they both dragged air into their lungs, he pressed a smattering of light, feathery kisses to her cheeks, stopping momentarily in the middle to cover her lips with his once more.