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He shook his head slowly and glanced at Melody, watching her chat animatedly with her registrar. He wasn’t that man any more. While the tour had indeed been gruelling, it had helped him find perspective in his grief. He’d been to so many different hospitals, met so many different people from all walks of life. Veronique hadn’t wanted this tour to take place in only large teaching hospitals, she’d wanted George to give instruction and hope to surgeons in small hospitals in the developing world where the facilities might not have been state of the art but where the care for patients had been paramount.
He’d done all that. He’d helped people, providing those developing countries not only with new surgical techniques but leaving behind the gift of the device he’d invented, which could cut surgical time in half. He’d done all of those things, provided a lasting legacy for his wife, but what was he supposed to do on his return to Melbourne?
Melody’s laughter floated over him and he breathed in a calming breath. That sound, the brightness in her eyes, the way her lips curved—he liked them all. They made him feel alive again, not just a man who was trudging his way through the wilderness. His attraction to Melody may have been instant, it may have knocked him for six, but it had made him feel again, and for that he would be grateful for ever.
Still, until he figured out exactly what he wanted to do with his life, he was better off distancing himself. It wasn’t fair—to either of them—to trifle with their emotions. He looked at his empty plate, frowning unseeingly at it. He didn’t want to stop experiencing these emotions, he liked feeling alive again, but he also knew it was the right thing to do and he prided himself on always being the type of man to do what was right.
‘Are you OK?’ Melody’s soft words cut into his thoughts and he quickly pasted on a smile.
‘Yes.’
‘You were concentrating so hard on your empty plate that I thought you might be performing a secret male bonding ritual with it.’
George chuckled, feeling instantly better. ‘Close but no cigar.’
Melody’s mobile phone rang, bringing her back to reality. She quickly connected the call, frowning as she listened to the information. ‘I’ll be right there,’ she replied.
‘You don’t seem to be able to get through a complete dinner. It’s either the beginning or the end,’ George jested.
‘Anything wrong, Melody?’ Andy asked.
‘Not really. They want to transfer a patient out of the hospital.’
‘Now?’ Andy glanced at his watch. ‘It’s almost midnight.’
‘Makes sense,’ George replied with a nod. ‘They want you to check he’s all right to be moved?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who’s the patient?’ Andy asked, completely baffled.
‘Rudy Carlew,’ Melody replied as she stood and collected her bag.
‘Rudy Carlew! You operated on Rudy Carlew and you didn’t tell me?’ Andy asked incredulously.
‘Oh, not you too.’ Melody laughed. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well you weren’t in Theatre, Andy. We had enough trouble with the theatre nurses drooling over him. I’d better get going. Goodnight,’ she said, her gaze encompassing the table in general.
‘I’ll walk you out,’ George offered.
‘It’s all right, George,’ Andy said, quickly gulping his coffee and standing. ‘I’ll go with her. I’m not going to miss the opportunity of meeting one of my favourite movie stars.’
Melody met George’s gaze, a small smile on her lips. He returned the smile and shrugged one shoulder. Again, it appeared they were completely in sync with each other, having an unspoken conversation, but this conversation was one filled with regret at not being able to spend more time together. Even though they knew they shouldn’t, what they knew and what was continuing to develop between them were two very different things. ‘See you tomorrow, then.’
‘Of course.’ She took a few steps away, then turned and fixed him with a cheeky stare. ‘Uh—will you be there for ward round? I’m just asking—’ she hurried on, a teasing glint in her eyes ‘—so I know whether to start without you.’
George laughed. ‘Oh, you’re funny. I don’t think we’re scheduled for ward round but if there’s a change, we’ll let you know.’
‘Just so long as you do it before eight-thirty, otherwise you’ll have to join in whenever you get there.’ A few of the other people at their table laughed, knowing what had happened that morning.
‘We’ll do our best,’ George responded, and held out his hand to Melody. Deprived of spending a few minutes alone with her, he felt the need to touch her at least. Melody slowly slid her hand into his and held it firmly. Her skin was soft and smooth and George couldn’t resist stroking it gently with his thumb.
