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Melody decided to take pity on him. ‘Go and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, and turned away from him. It was either that or throw herself into his arms. He looked so gorgeous, standing there in his faded denims, his brown eyes telling of his exhaustion. It had been hard to resist but with every step she took away from him, she grew more proud of her success.
‘Melody,’ he called softly, and she turned around, gazing at him expectantly.
‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For talking to me.’
Was he trying to make her feel guilty? Emir had often used that tactic and she’d fallen for it every time. His next words, however, made her rethink.
‘I know it wasn’t easy for you and I appreciate it.’ His gaze bored into hers and she felt that familiar stirring sensation in her stomach. ‘Drive carefully.’ With that, he turned and hobbled over to the lift. Melody watched him, torn between amusement at the sight he made and the urge to assist him.
‘Your car is here, ma’am.’
Melody forced herself to look away and walked out of the hotel. George pressed the button for the lift and glanced her way. She was magnificent, and she had become far too important to him, far too quickly.
The lift bell chimed and George hobbled in, recalling the way he’d felt as she’d cradled his foot in her hand. As she’d been angry with him, he’d half expected her to be rough with her examination but, instead, she’d been extremely gentle. Her skin had been soft against his and although she’d touched him in a professional, medical way, George hadn’t been able to stop the stirring of excitement that had shot through him.
At the fourth floor, he walked to his door and reached into his back pocket for the key card. Once inside, he opened the curtains and turned off the lights before settling back on the bed, propping his foot up on a few pillows.
He’d come so close to kissing her—so agonisingly close. Ever since they’d met, George had wanted to sample her mouth and the longer he waited, the more urgent the desire grew.
He knew the score. He knew she didn’t want to get hurt and he had no desire to hurt her. He raked an unsteady hand though his hair and groaned in confusion. What about Veronique? Would she mind if he kissed another woman? The feelings of betrayal hit him forcefully but it still didn’t stop him from making a decision. He’d be leaving at the end of the week and, regardless of the war taking place inside him, he knew one thing for sure.
Despite everything—he needed to kiss Melody.
CHAPTER TEN
MELODY DIDN’T SLEEP at all well that night and when she did manage to drift off sometime before dawn, she dreamt she was anxiously trying to glue a vase back together. The pieces were tiny and the tears she was crying kept blurring her vision. She stood and looked down at the mess and only then did she realise that the vase was heart-shaped.
The realisation only increased the urgency as she was expecting a new delivery of flowers at any minute. Working frantically, Melody managed to piece the heart-shaped vase back together. The doorbell rang and she hurried to open it. There stood George, holding a bunch of roses. Melody stared aghast at the vase. She couldn’t accept the flowers from George because the vase was still drying.
She wanted the flowers but where was she going to put them? Anxiousness and fear gripped Melody’s heart as George held the flowers out to her. What was she going to do?
She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding fiercely against her ribs. ‘Just a dream,’ she whispered to herself. She lay back and sighed, breathing deeply. She glanced at the clock and realised it was one minute before her alarm was due to go off. ‘So much for a good night’s sleep,’ she muttered, and clambered out of bed.
She glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked horrible. ‘Perhaps a little make-up might be in order today.’ Melody finished getting dressed, deciding that she wouldn’t chance breakfast as her stomach didn’t feel settled.
She arrived at the hospital and went straight to the ward. All through the round, she kept anxiously glancing at the door in case George decided to join them again. He didn’t. Feeling a bit flat, she returned to her office, hoping to catch up on paperwork before her theatre list began in half an hour.
Sitting at her desk, it wasn’t long before further thoughts of George intruded and, instead of fighting them, she gave in. She was exhausted from fighting her emotions, as well as lack of sleep. She thought about her dream, reflecting on the symbolism of the heart-shaped vase. It was true that Emir had broken her heart but she’d managed to mend it.
With George, her feelings for him were so out of proportion in comparison to what she’d previously felt. She’d been committed to marrying Emir, to spending the rest of her life with him. He’d been a charmer, just like George. He’d been a gentleman, just like George. He’d been a dashingly handsome man, just like George. He’d wooed her, made her feel special, made her feel as though she was valued.
