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If he was tired—how was she?
When was the last time Arissa Cotter had been pampered? Taken out for dinner? Looked after?
There was something behind those eyes that he hadn’t got to the bottom of. And after only a couple of days he couldn’t expect to. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t curious.
She hadn’t taken his hand yet. ‘Do you really want to go back home and eat barbecue snack noodles?’ he teased.
She sighed, then laughed. ‘Actually I planned to have frozen pizza and some candy bars.’
He put one hand on his hip, leaving his other hand deliberately still extended. ‘Oh, it was one of those kind of nights.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe. I hadn’t quite decided yet.’
‘Well, I have. I spotted a restaurant in the next street over I want to try.’
Her tired eyes twinkled. ‘Which one?’
He looked directly at his outstretched hand. ‘You have to agree to come before I tell you.’
It was almost like a stand-off. She reached for her denim jacket and put her hand in his. ‘How about you let me pick your dinner?’
Right now, he’d agree to any terms. ‘What, you know the boss? You get a discount?’ he joked.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Like you need one.’
His stomach gave a tiny twist. Maybe he wasn’t as incognito as he’d thought.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later she’d ordered all her favourites. Homemade roti canai, roti telor and curry chicken, Indonesian fried rice and seafood soup. The aroma made her stomach rumble loudly and he turned towards her and laughed.
She gestured towards the array of dishes on the table. ‘You asked for recommendations.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘All of them?’
‘Absolutely. Dig in. The food here is the best around.’
Philippe didn’t hang around, he filled up his plate and sampled everything.
She couldn’t help but watch him. He’d changed just before they came here and the black polo shirt made his eyes seem even darker. He signalled to the waiter for some wine and waited until they both had a glass.
She took a sip and leaned back in her chair.
‘When was the last time you actually relaxed?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can practically see the knots in your shoulders.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you can’t. And I told you, this is what I like to do on my holidays.’
‘But then you’re never really not working.’
She took in a deep breath. ‘I know. But it’s what I do. And it’s not just me. There are others too.’ She ran her fingers up and down the stem of the wine glass. ‘It’s called giving back. I guess in a world of non-stop technology and the search for perfection it’s kind of been forgotten along the way.’
He set down his knife and fork and smiled at her. ‘You’ve no idea how good that is to hear.’
She met his gaze and gave a sad kind of smile. ‘I sometimes feel as if life is rushing past.’ She held out her hand and looked out of the window to the street outside. Even though it was late at night the streets in Temur Sapora were still vibrant with life. The street markets lasted until late in the evening, packed stalls with brightly coloured strips of red and yellow forming the roofs. Business was brisk and the chatter lively.
‘I love this place,’ she said quietly. ‘I love coming back here.’ She took a deep breath then met his watchful gaze. ‘But I love my work too.’
‘Where are you based now?’
‘In Washington. It’s great. The team I work with is special. The patients—even more so. I’ve learned so much.’ She kept talking. ‘When I come back here I work as a generalist. That’s important. I like it. Sometimes, when we specialise, we lose sight of everything else.’
He sat back and looked at her with interest. ‘But, when you love something so much, how can you give it up?’
It was the way he said the words, the tiny edge to them that made something inside stand to attention. ‘I’m not giving it up,’ she said carefully. ‘It’s still in my heart. I’m just compromising for a few weeks.’
His eyes fixed on his hands on the table. She could tell he was thinking about something else. ‘Sometimes we have to do things for other people.’ She put her hand on her heart. ‘I like that I do that. It keeps me sane. Stops me getting wrapped up in the whirlwind of the world.’
He looked back up to meet her gaze again. Her heart was thudding against her chest. What was it she didn’t know about this guy?
It was weird. It was almost as if he had some kind of aura around him. Something weighing him down.
Her fingers drummed lightly on the table. ‘I have to do this. I get so wrapped up in my patients that this is the equivalent of a break for me.’ She picked up her napkin and twisted it between her fingers. ‘When you’re dealing with kids with a potentially terminal condition, it’s so easy to let it take over. To search everywhere for the possibility of a new treatment or cure. I get so focused on my work that I forget what else is out there sometimes.’
‘Isn’t that what everyone wants? A doctor who is committed and dedicated?’
She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. ‘But what if you can’t let go? What if you miss something important because you can’t see outside your own little box?’ She twisted the napkin again. ‘I learned a few years ago, to take time to take a breath—to take stock. Some people go skiing. Some people go to the beach—like the resort you were staying at. Some people hire a cabin in the mountains to hide out in. Some people turn off the Internet, the phone and read books.’
A hand reached over and covered hers. She hadn’t even realised that her hands were trembling. His warm touch encompassed both of her hands and made her suck in a deep, steadying breath.
Here was she worrying about what he wasn’t telling her, but wearing her heart on her sleeve instead. He spoke in a low voice. ‘But sometimes you come to a place expecting nothing, and get a whole lot more than you bargained for. Sometimes you don’t know what you were looking for until it jumps out and finds you.’
She closed her eyes for a second, her heart rate increasing. Was he talking about work, or something else? It seemed ridiculous to imagine that he could be talking about her—they barely knew each other.
But something was in the air between them. She knew it. And she thought he did too.
He just sat for a few minutes, his hand still over hers. When she opened her eyes again he wasn’t staring at her. He was looking at the dark sky outside, his mind obviously someplace else.
Instantly she felt embarrassed, pushing any stray imaginary thoughts aside.
But when Philippe met her gaze he just said simply, ‘How about we take a walk? I haven’t been on the beach yet in Temur Sapora and I hear it’s one of your biggest tourist attractions.’
She was glad of the easy diversion. ‘Sure, as a resident it’s my duty to show you around. A walk on the beach at this time of night will be perfect.’
The restaurant was only a few minutes’ stroll from the beach. Arissa bent to unfasten her sandals as they got there. He stopped for a few seconds to watch. She grabbed hold of her dress as it fluttered in the ocean wind.
The edge of the beach was lined with thick green foliage. Philippe brushed against some, sending a host of pink butterflies into the dark purple sky. Arissa let out a little yelp, then stood laughing with her hands wide, letting them flutter against her skin.
Philippe stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was the most relaxed he’d looked since he’d got there. They strolled down next to the rippling ocean. There were a few other couples quietly walking on the beach.
‘What happens when you go back?’ asked Philippe. ‘Do you have someone else lined up to work here?’
She nodded as she kick
ed at the sand with her bare toes. ‘I have a colleague who is a surgeon in Texas. He’ll cover the two weeks after I leave.’
‘And he’ll pick up the research study?’
She bit her bottom lip. ‘Yes, well, he should. He’s the lead researcher. When the study gets published it will be under his name.’
Philippe stopped walking and turned to face her. ‘Why would the study be under his name? I’ve seen all the files on the computer. This is your study. You made the discovery. You applied for the research ethics and grant. You arranged the protocols. Why on earth wouldn’t you publish as the lead researcher?’
She sighed and looked out across the dark ocean. The night sky was littered with sparkling stars, reflecting on the midnight-blue rippling water. She ran her fingers through her hair. She was stalling. She knew that. She wasn’t exactly sure how to put this into words.
‘This study is going well. It’s going better than well. I didn’t discover this ointment. It’s made from natural products found on Temur Sapora. This ointment was something my grandmother used when I was a child, and her grandmother before her. I just decided to do official research to see how well it actually works.’
