by Kate Hardy
‘Thanks. That’s kind.’ She smiled at him, and he had to damp down the urge to lace his fingers through hers and suggest something more personal than simply exam revision.
This was ridiculous. They’d both said that they weren’t in the market for a relationship. After Georgia, he’d lost his capacity to trust.
Yet something about Jenna Harris drew him. Her warmth, her verve, her kindness.
He was going to have to be careful about this. Really careful.
Because he really didn’t want to risk his heart again.
CHAPTER THREE
BY THE END of Lorenzo’s first two weeks at Muswell Hill Memorial, he’d completely settled in to his new role. As Jenna had told him on the first day, the team on the ward was good to work with, and they were like a family. He’d already been to a team pizza night out, a weekend game of football in the park, and joined the ward’s quiz team—and the danceathon was happening at the weekend. It felt as if he’d been working at Muswell Hill for months rather than a matter of a few days.
The only thing he needed to deal with now was his inappropriate feelings towards Jenna.
Every time his hand brushed against hers at work, he felt a tingle all the way down his arm. When she smiled, it made his heart feel as if it had just skipped a beat. And this was crazy. He didn’t want to get involved and he knew that she didn’t, either.
He really didn’t understand why he was reacting to her in this way. It would be easier if she’d turned out to be a gossip, or an ambition-driven bitch who trampled on her colleagues to get a promotion—the kind of person he wouldn’t want to be within a mile of. But she was warm, sweet, great with their patients and parents, and he’d seen her patiently explaining something to one of the junior doctors.
* * *
And he had to admit he was attracted to her. Physically as well as intellectually. The problem was, he’d been here before with Georgia. He’d fallen in love with someone he thought loved him back—and she’d let him down in the worst possible way. He’d pretty much come to terms with the fact that Georgia had left him for someone else; although it had hurt, he could understand that if you loved someone that much it just took you over and you couldn’t help your feelings. But taking their daughter away had hurt him more deeply than anything he’d ever known. He had no intention of risking that sort of pain again.
Besides, for someone as nice as Jenna to be single and adamant that she wasn’t looking for a relationship, he’d guess that she’d been let down by someone in the past. Something to do with her year off work, perhaps. Not that he could be intrusive and ask.
So he’d have to keep his feelings under control. Remind himself that relationships weren’t for him, and he was Jenna’s colleague. Maybe they could become friends—but he wasn’t sure he could even handle that.
Strictly professional was the order of the day.
On Saturday afternoon, Lorenzo walked to the local high school and signed in, then followed the signs to the sports hall. Jenna was already there. He noticed that her hair was caught back in a scrunchie, the way it was at work, and he wondered what it would be like if she took the scrunchie out. Would her hair fall over her shoulders in wild curls?
Worst of all, he found himself wondering what her hair would look like spread over his pillow...
Oh, for pity’s sake. This was a charity danceathon. This wasn’t the time or the place to start fantasising about Jenna Harris. She was off limits and they had work to do. He shook himself mentally, then went over to her. ‘Reporting for duty, as promised,’ he said with a smile. ‘What do you need me to do?’
* * *
Jenna looked up at Lorenzo and her heart skipped a beat. Instead of the formal shirt, tie and dark trousers he always wore on the ward beneath his white coat, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It made him look younger and more approachable; and she was horrified to find that she was actually reaching out to put her hand on his arm.
Absolutely not.
This wasn’t the deal. He was helping out. He was here as a new colleague and nothing more. She needed to keep this strictly professional.
She shook herself. ‘Hi. Thanks for coming to help.’ He’d asked her what she wanted him to do. Her head was suddenly full of all sorts of inappropriate phrases. She managed to get a grip on herself—just—and said, ‘There’s a table over there with all the raffle prizes on it. If you wouldn’t mind taping raffle ticket numbers to the prizes, and then folding the rest of the raffle tickets for the box, that would be great.’ She handed him a book of raffle tickets and a roll of sticky tape; her fingers brushed against his and a shiver ran down her spine.
Was it her imagination, or had his eyes just widened slightly?
Or was she reading too much into it?
This really wasn’t the time or the place.
Tickets, she reminded herself sharply. ‘We’re just using the ones on the right-hand side of the ticket page that end in a zero to stick on the prizes, but all the left-hand tickets go in the box, folded so you can’t see the number.’
‘Which means there’s a one in ten chance of winning a prize. That sounds reasonable,’ he said, and went off to sort out the raffle table.
Nathan from the Emergency Department was helping the members of Maybe Baby to set up the stage and wire up the sound system ready for the sound check; the local pub was setting up the bar to one side of the hall; and a stream of parents of their former patients came over to her to check where she wanted the food set out.
All the time, Jenna was incredibly aware of Lorenzo’s presence. This was crazy. The last thing she needed in her life right now was any kind of complication. She was busy at work and with her studies, and she liked her life just as it was.
Yet a little voice kept echoing in her head. What if...?
What if she could have what Lucy had? Someone who loved her and a family of her own?
She shoved the thought away. Apart from anything else, she had the strongest feeling that Lorenzo had been hurt in the past—hence his insistence on not wanting a relationship. And, given the way her judgement had let her down so badly over Danny, how could she be sure that she wouldn’t be making just as much of a mistake with Lorenzo?
She was just going to have to ignore that little voice and listen to her common sense instead.
* * *
Once Lorenzo had sorted out the raffle tickets, he joined another team in setting out chairs for the people who’d just come to watch the dancing or who needed a break from the dance floor.
‘It’s really good of you to do this,’ Jenna said, coming over to him. ‘I feel a bit guilty, roping you in to help when you’ve been working at the hospital for barely a couple of weeks.’
‘It’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything special at the weekend anyway—plus it’s a nice way to get to know the team outside work,’ he pointed out.
‘It’s still appreciated,’ she said.
He had to muster every gram of professionalism when she smiled at him. What on earth was the matter with him? It was anatomically impossible for your heart to do a somersault, so feeling that it had just happened was utterly ridiculous. He needed to get a grip.
‘Is there anything else you need me to do?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’m just handing out the cash floats to the hospital-run stalls, and then I’m going to change into my dancing shoes.’
‘Then I’ll do my best to sell raffle tickets,’ Lorenzo said.
When the danceathon started, Lorenzo was surprised to discover just how good the band was. Keely, one of the senior nurses in their department, had a beautiful voice and could easily have made a career out of singing. Nathan, one of the porters in the Emergency Department, was the DJ who did an hour’s slot between each set the band played; and, in between sorting out the music, the band and the DJ all joined in with the dancing.
‘You’ve done more than your fair share on the raffle, Renzo. I’ll take over while you take a break. Go and have a dance,’ Laney, one of the nurses on their ward, said with a smile, taking the box of tickets and the cash box from him.
It looked as if he didn’t have much choice, even though dancing really wasn’t his thing. He stood on the edge of the dance floor, moving awkwardly to the music and wondering how long he’d have to be there before he could justifiably go back to the raffle table, and then Jenna was there beside him.
‘Hey. You’ve finally come to join us on the dance floor?’ she asked.
‘Laney bullied me into it. I did warn you that not all Italian men could dance and I have two left feet,’ he said with a rueful smile.
‘Everyone can dance. You just need someone to show you how,’ she said with a grin. ‘This is salsa, and it’s fun.’
No, it wasn’t. He felt like a fish out of water. ‘Can’t I just move my feet any old how?’ he asked plaintively.
She smiled. ‘Not to salsa, but I promise the steps aren’t so bad. Stand opposite me, and I’ll show you. I’ll slow it down for you so we do it at half the speed until you get the hang of it. This is the first step they teach you in class—the side basic.’
He stood opposite her, knowing he was just about to make a colossal idiot of himself.
‘Now, you’re going to mirror everything I do,’ she said.
Mirror everything.
He noticed that she’d changed more than just her shoes, as she’d suggested earlier: the faded jeans and ancient T-shirt she’d worn while setting things up had been replaced by black trousers and a strappy top. And her shoes were clearly proper dance shoes, red and glittery. Somehow he wasn’t surprised that Jenna had chosen such a bright, sparkly colour. They went perfectly with her personality.
‘Stand with your left leg bent, and keep your right leg straight,’ she instructed. ‘Shift your weight to your right leg.’
Just the same as she was when she gave instructions at work, he noticed: clear, concise and making things easy to follow.
He really liked that about her; yet, at the same time, he was wary. He didn’t think she was the sort to hurt other people; but then again he’d believed that about Georgia, and how wrong he’d been there. He’d kept all his relationships strictly platonic, ever since, to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt again. But Jenna tempted him more than anyone he’d ever met. Her warmth, her sweetness...
Yet he was pretty sure that she, too, had been hurt in the past. The way she’d avoided talking about her sabbatical was a big clue.
Maybe they could help each other.
Or maybe they’d just make things worse and he should just leave it.
He shook himself, realising that she’d spoken to him. ‘Sorry. I missed that. Would you mind running through it again?’
‘Sure. Take a step to the left with your left leg,’ she said, ‘rock back so your weight’s on your right leg again, and close your feet. The beat’s one, two, three-and-hold.’
Mirroring what she did, he managed to do it without tripping over.
‘Now repeat it the other way,’ she said. Again, she talked him through it and slowed it down so he could follow.
‘Brilliant. Now we put them both together—in dancing everything’s a count of eight. So it’s one, two, three, hold, five, six, seven, hold.’
He couldn’t quite follow her arm movements, but he managed the feet, and she seemed pleased.
‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘We’ll make a dancer of you yet. There’s a back-and-forward one as well.’
Which sounded a bit too much for his confidence level. ‘Let’s just leave it at the side one,’ he said.
‘No problem. We’ll stick to the side basic,’ she said with a smile. ‘Ready?’
He counted the beats. One, two, three, hold... And then somehow he was dancing with her. Really dancing, not just moving randomly and hoping he didn’t look too much of an idiot on the dance floor. She was right: it was fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much.
Jenna had taken the scrunchie out of her hair, too, so her curls were free and wild; she was laughing and her blue eyes were sparkling, and she looked utterly beautiful—like a Pre-Raphaelite goddess. He hadn’t felt this kind of pull towards someone since he’d first started dating Georgia.
The thought was enough to haul him up short and he missed the beat, stumbled and stopped.
‘Are you OK?’ Jenna asked.
‘Sure.’ He smiled at her, not wanting to tell her what was really wrong. ‘I’ve just got two left feet, that’s all.’
She smiled back. ‘A couple of the guys at our salsa class just couldn’t work out which feet to move, so our teacher got them to wear a band on each wrist—lemon for left and red for right—to give them a visual cue, and it really helped.’ She shrugged. ‘Though I guess this isn’t really the place for it.’
She slowed her movements down and talked him through the steps until he was moving confidently again. Jenna was just the same outside work as she was on the ward, kind and considerate without making a big deal of things; Lorenzo really liked that about her.
He danced with her to the rest of the song, then said, ‘It’s time for me to go and sell raffle tickets among the crowd.’
Her glance said very clearly that she knew he was chickening out of the dancing; he wondered if she realised why, and that it was her nearness rather than the actual dancing that spooked him.
Did she feel the same pull towards him that he felt towards her? And, if so, what were they going to do about it? Could he take a risk with her?
Even though Lorenzo was officially walking round the seated audience, sweet-talking them into buying more raffle tickets, he still couldn’t take his eyes off Jenna. She was dancing a much faster and more complicated salsa with three or four people he guessed might be from her class, because they were keeping up with her and doing all the dipping and swaying and turns—things he was very glad she hadn’t suggested that he tried doing, because they were way above his pay grade.
The way she moved was stunning, all sinuous and sensual. He wanted to walk over there, dance with her and then kiss her until they were both dizzy. Which would be a really stupid thing to do. He worked with Jenna, and they’d agreed to be colleagues and friends. Anything else would just lead to heartache.
He concentrated on selling the raffle tickets until all the prizes had been won, then took Jenna a glass of water.
‘Thanks, that’s so kind of you.’ She drank all the water in one go, and then smiled at him.
And how crazy was it that his heart felt as if it had just done a backward somersault?
He managed to pull himself together. Just. ‘All the prizes have been won, so Laney and I are going to count up the money; and she said we need to take off the float.’
‘The float was ten pounds. Thank you. There’s a box under the table with bags for the coins and rubber bands for the notes, plus a big padded bag to put the whole lot in,’ she said.
Clearly Jenna had done this sort of thing before, he thought, because she was perfectly organised.
As if his thoughts had shown on his face, she added, ‘With my sister being a teacher, I’ve helped out at a lot of school events in my time and counted up a lot of takings, so I know the most efficient way to deal with the money afterwards.’
‘Got you,’ he said.
Between them, he and Laney totted up the takings and wrote them on the outside of the padded bag. And, when Maybe Baby had played the last song of the danceathon, Keely called Jenna on to the stage to round up the evening.
‘Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight,’ Jenna said. ‘And I’d like to thank everyone who’s helped at a stall, donated a prize, sponsored a dancer, danced here on the floor tonight or come along for support and bought things. Thank
you to all the parents and local businesses who’ve helped us with food and drink and prizes. We’ll total everything up over the weekend and I’ll make sure how much we’ve raised is posted on the ward’s website and social media page. And thank you, too, on behalf of our patients, because the toys your money’s going to buy will help them settle on the ward and distract them from some of their worries. That really makes a difference and it means that treatment is less stressful for them. Thank you—all of you.’
There was a round of applause, and then the clearing away started. Everyone worked together, moving tables, chairs and the few bits of unsold stock. The band and the DJ cleared away the sound systems and their equipment, and then Jenna wielded a mop and bucket to make sure that the school’s sports hall was left spotless.
‘Thanks, everyone,’ she said when it was all done. ‘I’ve really appreciated your help tonight.’
‘Can I give you a hand taking that home?’ Lorenzo asked, gesturing to the box that contained all the proceeds from the night.
‘I’m definitely not walking about with all this money. I’ve booked a taxi,’ she said. ‘You’re very welcome to a lift, if you’re on my way home.’
This was his get-out, Lorenzo thought. Even if they were going in the same direction, he could say no.
‘Actually, come along anyway. I owe you a drink for giving up most of your day and all of your evening,’ she added.
‘It was my pleasure. You don’t owe me anything,’ he said. But then his mouth seemed to be working to a different script to the one in his head, and he heard himself saying, ‘Though I’ll wait with you until the taxi arrives. I know you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself, but you’ve got tonight’s takings with you.’
‘And you’re right—I’d rather not be on my own with that sort of money,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
It was only a few minutes’ wait; and then somehow he found himself seeing Jenna home in the taxi anyway.
‘Come in for a glass of wine,’ she said.
And his mouth was really on a roll, because instead of making a polite excuse he found himself agreeing.