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Tom tossed his latex gloves into a hazardous substance bin. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Fiona frowned. She’d have preferred to go alone, to take a break from Tom’s questioning scrutiny. ‘I’m sure Sophie and her father will be glad to see you.’
Tom shrugged. ‘Look, this is how I do things around here. These are my patients.’
‘Fair enough.’ She’d presumed he’d leave alone the specialists he brought in, only helping where needed. But this way he had first-hand knowledge of everything being done. She had to admit she liked that.
His hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged at her gently, until she jerked her head up to meet his level gaze. ‘I’m glad you understand.’
His fingers warmed her, sending unexpected shockwaves throughout her body, reminding her how his touch had so easily turned her on. But memories were dangerous territory. They could do untold damage to her heart, and create havoc with her hard-earned peace of mind.
‘Sure.’ She pulled her arm away, rubbing where he’d touched. ‘How long have we got before our next patient?’
Tom had assisted in Theatre all morning. He’d been very professional and competent. No surprise there. Tom was a highly skilled doctor. But to Fiona his greatest asset had to be his interest in his patients and his willingness to listen to them. Odd how he could listen to a patient describing their ailments but he hadn’t been able to hear his own wife when she’d wanted to talk to him.
He said, ‘Nearly an hour’s break. Maybe we should grab a bite of lunch first, then go check up on your post-op patients.’
Her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Last night’s dinner seemed an age ago, and she’d had nothing for breakfast this morning as she’d been too nervous about working with Tom. No wonder she was ravenous. ‘Hope someone killed a horse for lunch.’
‘Don’t mention eating horse meat around here. You’ll be run out of town, exceptional plastic surgeon or not.’ Tom smiled at her.
Exceptional, huh? Warmth flooded her, lightened her step. Another compliment that she’d treasure. ‘Okay, I’ll settle for a loaf of bread and a hunk of ham.’
‘I hope the kitchen staff can cope while you’re here. I haven’t forgotten your phenomenal appetite.’
‘For what?’ she blurted, and instantly coloured. Sex had come to her mind straight away.
‘Food.’ Tom scowled, but in his eyes she saw him register her meaning. His stride lengthened, and once again she had to trot to keep up.
‘Right, food,’ she muttered. Not sex. The one area of their relationship they’d never had trouble with. Her thumb flicked her fingers. Her mind had developed an unnerving habit of throwing her off balance. Think sandwich, not hot skin. Think ham, not slick tongues.
Don’t think at all.
After a quick lunch with Tom and Kerry, Fiona headed for Sophie’s room. With Tom beside her, of course.
‘Sophie’s awake and asking questions of any medical staff looking in on her,’ the girl’s nurse informed them.
‘Hey, young lady, how’re you doing?’ Fiona asked as she approached the bed.
Sophie was pale, and there were dark shadows under her apprehensive eyes, but she was awake enough to be aware of everything going on around her. ‘How did it go? Am I going to look better than I did before?’
‘You were a perfect patient, sleeping right through everything.’ Fiona sat down on the edge of the bed and winked. ‘Seriously, I’m very pleased with the operation. I did warn you that your scar will look worse before it heals. Be patient, if you can. You’re going to look fantastic. Remember, you’re a beautiful girl.’
Seated on the other side of the bed, Jacob Clark smiled wearily. ‘You’re asking a teenager to be patient? You can’t have any children of your own.’
She closed her eyes as her stomach curled around the permanent knot of pain. Just because Liam wasn’t here now it didn’t mean she wasn’t a mother. But it was easier to go along with Jacob’s assumption. ‘No, I haven’t.’
When she opened her eyes she found Tom’s gaze on her, deep sadness etched in the lines of his face. His eyes were dark, the caution that had mostly been there since she arrived replaced with sorrow. In the depths of his eyes she found a mirror image of her pain. She still wondered how he managed, surrounded by children every day. Surely that ate away at him sometimes?
Shame gripped her. By coming here she’d made everything that much harder for Tom to live with. He probably managed relatively well, but her arrival would have dragged up as much hurt for him as it had for her.
She hoped she’d survive the onslaught of emotions that had been battering her since her arrival.
Tom made an instant decision. He mightn’t be great shakes at talking about personal things, but he could certainly show Fiona what he’d achieved since they’d broken up, and she’d be able to see what it all meant to him. ‘Come on, we’ve got plenty of time before surgery. I’ll give you the grand tour of my hospital.’
‘I’d love that. Everything I’ve seen so far is amazing.’
Warmth unfurled in his belly at her simple but genuine words. ‘I’m afraid the rest of the building hasn’t been modernised like the operating theatre.’
Of course his earlier intention of keeping his distance from Fiona had gone down the drain. For some reason it wasn’t as easy to stick to as he’d believed. After her dig last night about him always working he’d thought he might have been cured of whatever was drawing him closer to her. He’d been wrong. All morning he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her as she operated. Watching her perform intricate surgery had been a revelation. No doubt about it. Fiona’s skill level was impressive. He’d enjoyed assisting her. His patients were lucky to have her.
And he was beginning to understand how she’d coped over the years since she’d left. She must have focused entirely on her surgical work, continuously expanding her knowledge and practical skills while pushing aside the hurt and anger at what had happened to them. Being around people who desperately needed her, being able to give them not just good care but superb care, would have been good for her soul.
She was speaking.
‘New paint and equipment go a long way towards instilling confidence in your patients. But really they come here for your expertise as a paediatrician.’
‘You’re right, of course.’ As Tom held a do
or open for Fiona her perfume scented the air around him, teasing him and causing him to stop to take a good long look at her. Her once bouncy step was now more measured, the jaunty angle of her head not so apparent, but the woman before him was still the Fi he remembered. Her enquiring eyes took in everything around her; her quick mind noted all the little things about her patients that were so important to a full and quick recovery.
‘Tom?’ Fiona had turned back, those blue eyes asking why the delay?
‘Coming. Reception is through here.’ They were on the ground floor, where the operating theatre and staffrooms were. ‘Then in the west wing we have the consultation rooms. Except for mine. I like having a view, which is why my offices are on the next floor.’
‘Boss’s privilege.’ Fiona gazed around the reception area that had been positioned around the main entrance and a sweeping staircase. ‘Those are gorgeous.’ She pointed to the stained-glass front doors.
The second floor held the wards. ‘Two: one for the boys and one for the girls, with the nurses’ station between them.’
Tom tried to stifle a yawn and failed. Thankfully Fiona’s attention was taken up with looking around, so she didn’t notice.
A sleepless night hadn’t helped his unsettled mood. Staying up until after midnight working on the next six months of patient figures hadn’t tired him as much as he’d hoped.
‘We’ll carry on to the top floor first. You can take a good look around the wards on the way down if you want to.’
‘Of course I want to. Tom.’ She spun around to face him, walking backwards as she waved her hands in the air, talking fast. ‘This is astonishing. You’ve achieved so much here in a relatively short time. You must be so proud.’
‘I am a bit.’
‘A bit?’ Her eyes widened and her mouth split into a wide grin. She shrugged her shoulders and deepened her voice. ‘He’s a little bit proud. That’s all.’
He laughed. As he was meant to. ‘Come on. Top floor is waiting.’
