Secrets (Hope Bay)

by Angela Verdenius

  “No, you’re the big boy who steals cakes from the table even when she is watching.” Doc wagged a finger at him. “Do. Not. Touch.” With that, he walked to the kitchen.

  Grinning, Shane watched him go to the kitchen bearing the prized cake proudly. He was still grinning when Emma appeared from the treatment room with a handful of packaged instruments, no doubt heading for the sterilizer.

  She caught sight of him. “Good morning.”

  “”Morning, Em.” He managed to take the whole of her in visually while keeping his eyes locked with hers.

  Man, she was so sweet and curvy, that wavy hair caught up in one of those torture-device looking things, a few little tendrils dancing around those cute apple cheeks. Looking so professional yet friendly in her uniform top and pants. Geez, she even wore black Mary Janes on her feet. Cute just did not begin to describe her.

  He wondered fleetingly what she’d look like in a nightie. A short nightie. With a low neckline.

  Emma laughed. “You look hungry.”

  “What?” He blinked, horrified at being caught out drinking in the sight of her. “Sorry, I-”

  “I swear I’ll guard that cake with my life.” She nodded towards the kitchen. “Your Mum makes the best cakes and whenever Doc brings them in, it’s gone by lunchtime. Every piece. But I’ll make sure a piece is saved for you.”

  He almost sagged in relief. She’d misunderstood the hungry look. Well, not really misunderstood it, he was hungry but not for cake. For her.

  Awkward moment averted, Shane relaxed. “Thanks, Em. I’ll hold you to that.”

  “No worries.” She turned to head towards the back of the clinic.

  “I’ll make sure you get some as well,” he called out cheerfully. “A really big slice.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, only this time her mouth was a little tight and her eyes not so friendly. Her expression changed swiftly into a smile. A very tight, small smile. “Thank you.” With that, she turned into the little room holding the steriliser and spare instruments.

  Well, what was that about? Shane scratched the back of his head in bewilderment. Just what had he done wrong? What had he - uh-oh. Shane stilled. He’d mentioned saving cake for her. That was when she’d gone all weird. Don’t tell me you have an issue with food. He scowled. Shit, he knew there was pressure on women these days to fit a certain mould. Even men were feeling the pressure. Was he right? Was she skipping food to lose weight? His expression went grim. Not on his watch, thank you very much. No way was Emma going down the road he’d seen others go. No way. No way.

  “What’s your problem?”

  Harriet’s voice at his elbow made him jump, and he looked down to see her watching him curiously.

  “Nothing,” he assured her. “Just thinking.”

  “Not pleasant thoughts. Anything I can help with?”

  “Just thinking about Ben,” he improvised quickly. “Wondering how he’s going, that kind of thing.”

  “Why don’t you give the city hospital a ring?”

  “Good suggestion.” He turned back to the doorway leading into his room. “I’ll do that.”

  Harriet followed him. “Your concern for your patients is commendable, Shane, but you don’t want to let it rule you, okay? I’ve seen doctors burn out from getting too involved, and in a small town where everyone knows everyone, well…” She flapped a hand.

  “I know.” He picked up the phone receiver. “Hey, Harriet?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve got a patient in about two minutes, but I’ll just put this call through first, okay? I shouldn’t be long.”

  “No worries.” She backed out, then popped her head back in to add, “Just remember what I said.”

  “I will.” He caught her expression, smiled reassuringly. “I promise. This isn’t my first stint in a rural area.”

  “Yeah, well.” Shaking her head, Harriet left.

  Now that he’d committed himself, and really wanting to know anyway, Shane rang the city hospital where Ben had been taken and after several minutes of being bounced to a couple of different departments, finally spoke to the doctor of the team taking care of Ben. After being told that Ben was stable and his recovery stood a good chance, he thanked the doctor and rang off.

  Leaning back in the chair, he contemplated the computer screen. Ben’s condition was good news, but whatever happened now was out of his hands. Had been out of his hands, in fact, since the RFDS took over his patient. He scanned the list of patients waiting for him. Now he better get to work and see what he could do to help others.

  ~*~

  Sitting opposite Shane in Daz’s café, Emma seethed inside. The fact he’d dragged her here against her will was testament to the fact that he was affecting her work life. And interfering in her personal life.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Warring with this was the fear that she’d have to resign from her job and seek employment elsewhere. That almost had her tearing up, but she took refuge in anger.

  She should have told him a flat ‘no’ when he’d reminded her he was buying her lunch today. She’d started protesting but he’d waved it away, and backed up by Doc and Harriet, there wasn’t any way she could back-out graciously. So here she was, stuck at the same table as the good-looking doctor with a huge ego problem.

  She so wanted to kick him in the balls right now. And she wasn’t even a violent person.

  Daz had placed them at a table on the far side of the room in a nice cosy little corner with a bit of privacy given by a tall pot plant. Other people greeted her and Shane happily as they’d walked through and she’d returned the greetings with a smile. One thing she was good at was hiding her feelings, she’d had plenty of practice with that.

  Catching Shane studying her across the table, however, she had no doubt he could see beneath her pleasant veneer.

  That was confirmed when he asked quietly, “Okay, what have I done wrong?”

  “Wrong?” Not wanting to voice her real feelings, she plucked a paper napkin from the holder, flicked it open and draped it across her lap.

  “Yes, wrong. What have I done wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Picking up the menu, she busied herself perusing the contents. “Hungry? Daz has some delicious food here.” There you go, now you can say something snide about my eating habits. She steeled herself for yet another comment.

  When the silence grew uncomfortably long, she peeked over the menu to find him frowning at his own menu. He glanced up at her, still frowning, before dropping his gaze back to the menu.

  Well whoopee-ding, the doctor was annoyed. Whoop-dee-doo. If anyone had the right to be annoyed, it was her. He had the power to disrupt her whole life - her whole new life, her new beginning - so he had no right to be annoyed.

  She glanced at the clock. Another forty minutes until freedom, aka back to the clinic then home.

  Daz appeared at their table, pad and pen in hand. “What’ll it be?”

  Shane indicated that Emma go first.

  She handed the menu to Daz. “Diet Coke and a slice of your delicious bacon and cheese quiche with some salad, thanks, Daz.”

  Holding the menu beneath his pad, he waited for Shane.

  “I’ll have the same,” Shane said. “But I’ll have your cold coffee with cream to drink.”

  “Won’t be long.” Daz took his menu and left them.

  Emma leaned back in the chair, legs crossed at the knees, hands hidden beneath the table so she could fiddle with the napkin while maintaining a serene appearance.

  “Okay, Emma.” Shane broke the silence. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” She kept her expression pleasantly bland which, going by his expression, irritated him no end. “You?”

  Well, didn’t he leap upon that like a flea on a dog. “I have a big problem.”

  She arched an eye brow in feigned interest.

  “It’s you,” he stated bluntly.

  If he’d spoken loudly, they’d have h
ad everyone’s attention on them. However, Shane’s quiet voice only reached her ears. She had to give him credit for that.

  Damn it.

  She continued to keep her eyebrow arched in silent invitation. Okay, she should have crept around the outside of the query and assured him she was fine, been nicer, but her inner self somehow just wanted to needle him.

  She had no idea why. It was foolish. He was her employer, for God’s sake.

  Oh shit. He was her employer! How the hell could she have forgotten that?

  Mind scrambling, she lowered her eyebrow and attempted a surprised expression. “Me? What have I done? Did I do something wrong at work?”

  “Yes.”

  Okay, that was unfair. She always did her job properly. What could she possibly have done? “What was it?”

  “That look you gave me.”

  “Huh?”

  He regarded her intently. “That look you gave me in the hallway this morning.” She must have looked as confused as she felt, because he added, “Right after I mentioned the cake.”

  “Ah. The cake.” There went her anger, bubbling up to the surface. She stomped it down ruthlessly. “What about the cake?”

  “I just told you. I mentioned saving you some cake and your expression was distinctly unfriendly.”

  “Odd. I’m sure I smiled at you.”

  “Not with your eyes.”

  “My eyes?”

  “Emma, you have the warmest eyes of any woman I’ve ever known. They smile all the time. Except then.”

  “Gee, I wonder why.” The sarcasm spilled out before she could bite it back.

  “And now. So what did I say wrong?”

  They both stopped talking as Daz appeared with two plates. His face maintained a polite expression as he set the plates down before them. “I’ll bring your drinks.”

  Emma picked up her fork and took a bite of quiche, mentally moaning in appreciation as the flavour burst upon her tongue. A bite of salad was fresh, crisp, and she took another piece of tomato.

  Shane busied himself with his own food so they remained silent during the short time it took Daz to return with their drinks. They thanked him at the same time and he left.

  As soon as they were alone, Shane pointed his fork at her. “I’m going to overstep my boundaries here, Emma.”

  “Well, you are the boss,” she replied, only to bite her lip in horror. What was she doing? Yes, she was angry, even hurt, but oh God, was she trying to get sacked as well? No! “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

  “Let’s clear that up right now.” He scowled. “I do not fire people who argue with me, okay? Sacking someone for speaking their mind is not something Dad and I do, as long as it isn’t repeatedly contradicting us in front of patients or blatant disrespect. Okay?”

  Emma had no way of knowing if he spoke the truth or not, so all she could do was nod.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated. “Thanks.”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t believe me.”

  “Of course I do, I-”

  “Emma, at least give me the courtesy of being truthful.”

  Oh yeah, like that was going to save her arse from being slung on the unemployment heap. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Emma.”

  She took refuge in a big bite of quiche.

  Shane sighed. Heavily. “I guess that was to be expected.”

  Oh, that hurt. It also nudged her anger, which had been simmering since the previous day, and which she’d thought she’d managed to discard until that little comment this morning had flared it up again.

  Obviously the anger showed in her eyes because his narrowed immediately. “There it is. I’ve pissed you off again and yet I have no idea how I did it.”

  Dropping her gaze, she gripped her fork tighter.

  “Don’t look away. Look at me.”

  She swallowed.

  “Emma.”

  At the quiet demand in his tone, she threw caution to the wind and glared at him.

  Shane watched her, waiting.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced the anger down. Or tried to.

  “Talk to me,” he requested in a perfectly reasonable voice.

  Oh, she hated that. Hated someone being so reasonable when all she wanted to do was conk him on the noggin with the fork she gripped between her fingers. A nice thwack to the forehead would have gone a long way to soothing her hurt and anger.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t believe in hitting anyone, so all she could do was lay the fork down and lean forward.

  Shane followed her movement.

  Thankful for the potted plant hiding them from most of the room, Emma gritted out, “The next time you think to comment on my weight, Dr Armand, I’ll thank you to keep your opinion to yourself.”

  He actually had the audacity to look blank, then surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard. I’m happy with who I am, I don’t need you or anyone else to watch my weight, make cracks about food, or presume to tell me what to do.”

  His eyes widened. “Jesus, Em, I didn’t-”

  “Oh, you did.” He did the feigned shock really well. Bastard really did deserve to be smacked on the forehead with something hard. “Several times, in fact.”

  Rallying quickly, a frown creased his forehead, his handsome features puzzled. “When? When did I ever do that?”

  Ohhh, look, and a little outraged! Don’t you just do that expression so well?

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to tell herself this was a bad idea, she shouldn’t-

  “Don’t stop now, Emma. You accused me of something, I have the right to know what it is.”

  Weighing the wisdom of going any further with this conversation, she stared at him for several seconds.

  Shane’s gaze remained locked on her.

  Well, hell, it was too late to back down now. She’d let the proverbial cat out of the bag, the damage was already done.

  “Yesterday you told me I didn’t need to lose weight, that I shouldn’t skip meals, you basically ordered me to never do it.” When he opened his mouth to reply, she added, “Then the crack this morning about saving me a slice of cake - a big slice - that was uncalled for.” When he opened his mouth again, she finished with, “I don’t want you to ever comment on my weight again. I don’t want you presuming that you can tell me what to eat or how to eat. I don’t want you thinking you can tell me to do anything with my body. Understand?” Sitting back in the chair, she picked up the Diet Coke and took several fortifying mouthfuls.

  Mostly to try and hide the fact that she was shaking inside. Not just from what she’d said, but who she’d said it to. But afraid or not, she wasn’t going to let anyone affect her life negatively again. Ever.

  Lowering the glass back to the table, she looked Shane square in the eyes, picked up her fork, speared some cucumber and popped it into her mouth, chewing with outward bravado and inner determination.

  With what she hoped was dignified silence, she waited for his response.

  Chapter 5

  Slowly, Shane leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her face. His expression had gone a little quizzical, his eyes scanning her features as though he was trying to read her innermost thoughts.

  Not really sure how he was going to respond, she was a little taken aback when he picked up the cold coffee and took several leisurely sips from it without removing his attention from her.

  If he was trying to unnerve her, he was doing a good job of it, but she refused to back down or look away. She’d keep watching him until her eyes fell out of her head.

  “Hmmm.” Thoughtfully, he picked up his fork and tapped the tines against his chin before letting the handle twist in his grip so that the fork hung upside down from his fingertips. Leaning his chin on the back of his hand, elbow on the table, he scrutinized her intently.

  Cripes, she could swear she could feel him mentally probing her brain. Fanciful th
inking, but he had a way of looking at her. Seeing her. Really seeing her. But just who - or what - was he seeing?

  Not liking his continued silent study, feeling unnerved, she lowered her fork to the table. “This was a mistake. Forget I said anything. I-”

  Shane didn’t bat an eyelid. “Emma.”

  She reached for her handbag at her feet. “I better get back to wo-”

  “And leave me without a chance to defend myself? No.” When she glanced up from opening her handbag to retrieve her purse, he said, “I’ve hurt you without meaning to, and I need to explain my point of view.”

  She sighed. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything, okay? Let’s just forget about it.”

  “You had every right to say what you did, and you have every right to an apology. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay.” She managed a small smile. “I’ll see you back at the clinic.”

  “Just as I have every right to ask you to listen to my explanation.” Shane leaned his folded arms on the smooth wooden surface. “Please, Em. I never meant to offend you, I’d sooner cut out my own tongue than ever hurt you. Please, just listen to me.”

  She hesitated.

  “Please, Emma. Grant me the courtesy of explaining a few things.”

  His expression was earnest. And he wasn’t ordering her. He wasn’t yelling or making a scene, nor storming out of the café. She searched his expression for any sign of insincerity, but he’d been nothing but friendly since he’d arrived, and she had to work with him, for him. After what she’d revealed, it was probably wiser to sit and listen. That way she could at least keep her job. All she had to do in future was hold her tongue.

  Just listen to him, make the appropriate noises, and go back to work.

  Replacing the handbag at her feet, she nodded. “I’m listening.”

  There was a definite easing of tension in his shoulders, a slight slouch to his posture as he kept his folded forearms on the table.

  “I never meant to sound as though I was ordering you to do anything.” Shane shook his head. “I’m not the kind of bloke to tell a woman what she should do with her body. I have to do it as a doctor, tell my patients things they don’t want to hear, suggest things, but…” He scratched his head. “Ahhh…let’s see.” He squinted into the air for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. Finding his train of thought, he nodded again and returned his attention to her.